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 My mother and I;

Mom had invited me to go to Martinique with her for the Christmas
holiday.

I knew it was just because she had already bought the tickets before
splitting up with her latest toy boy, but the thought of getting away
from the snowbound university was terribly appealing.  And it would be
good to spend some time with my mother.  I didn't see her enough since
she split up with my father 10 years ago.

Everything is completely booked down there in that season, so we
couldn't get a second room.  Nonetheless, we both had a great time.
For the first week I was enjoying myself with an Italian housewife on
"A holiday from her husband and children".  Mom had picked up a very
nice looking man in his early 30s. I found it slightly kinky that my
girlfriend was older than Mom's boyfriend.

It was all perfect until the plane that should've carried us back home
failed on the runway.

By the time the airline finally admitted defeat we'd been cooped up in
there for hours.  There was a shortage of hotels on the island, and by
the time we got to the one they had found for us we were completely
exhausted.

When the hotel clerk announced "Mr. and Mrs. James; room 108."  We
didn't bother to correct him; we just took the key and went up.

It was a small room, with a double bed.  Not a huge double bed,
either.

My mom was never one to be too uptight about things; we both stripped
down to our underwear, climbed in, and fell asleep in short order.

That's when the trouble started.

I'm not going to pretend that I didn't feel very self-conscious about
being in bed with my mother. I should probably say here at my mother
is a very sexy woman of about 45 years.  To be in close proximity with
her was to feel her sexual aura; that can be a little bit disturbing
if you happen to be her son. It had never been a problem before, but
I'm not going to pretend that forbidden thoughts and images had never
come to my mind.

I had a dream; I was kissing my mother, romantically.  Her hands were
all over my body, she was pulling on my penis; she was giving me head.
Even in my dream, I was conflicted about it all.  But like you do in
dreams, I went ahead with it anyway.

My mother is an aerobics nut, and her slim muscular body shows the
benefit; I was holding her tightly, kissing the nipples of her small
but still full breasts.

I woke up.  I was lying on my back; my cock was hard as a rock, half
of it sticking up through the waistband of my underwear.

Mom was snoring loudly, her head in the crook of my right arm, her
right thigh hooked over mine, and her hand on my penis.  For real.

It was pretty confusing; the realization that this was actually
happening.  I was afraid if I moved she would wake up, and that would
be incredibly embarrassing to us both.  Not just because her hand had
found her own son's cock; but because her son's cock was achingly hard
at her touch.

So I lay silent and still, enjoying the sexual stimulation and trying
to figure out a way to stop enjoying it.  I supposed she would just
roll over after a while, and I could consign this little episode to
the deepest, most secret sexual fantasy area of my memory.

"How long have you been awake?"  My mother asked me suddenly.  I
hadn't even realized that the snoring had stopped.

I didn't move, and neither did she.  Her hand was still on my penis.
My penis was still erect.

"A few minutes."  I answered her.

"This is interesting."  Mom observed.

"You think so?" I asked.

"Definitely."  She replied.

Jesus, I couldn't believe it.  Mom had had a lot of boyfriends, some
of them much younger than herself.  She always dressed and looked
perfect; she never had any trouble picking up any man she chose.  It
had bothered me sometimes, but I'd become used to it.  But this; I
never expected anything like this.

"The last taboo."  She said; "incest.  Far out."

"Maybe you'd better let go, mom."  I suggested.

"Really?  Why?  It seems to me you're enjoying it."  She said.

"Are you?"  I asked.

"Yes."  She replied, "I didn't plan this, Marty."

"I know you're pretty devious, mom, but I didn't think you could
arrange for a plane to break down."

"Do you think we should do it?"  She asked me.

"God damn, mom; you're a shrink.  How can you ask me a question like
that?"

"Psychologist, dear.  I'm a psychologist.  And that's exactly how I
can ask you a question like that."  Her hand was no longer static; she
was pulling my prick gently between her thumb and fingers, rolling it
and stimulating it, testing it for firmness.

"Do you know of any reason why we shouldn't?"  She continued, "It's
all just dogma, this idea about incest.  As long as we don't make
babies, what harm does it do?"

"I-I don't know.  But it couldn't be healthy."  I said.

"But it could be great fun."  Mom continued, "You sure seem to like
it.  No one would ever know, never."

My mother's mouth while speaking these words was coming closer and
closer to mine; as her sentence finished, there was contact; it was
somehow more intimate, more final, than her hand that was still
sliding around on my sexual organ.

It was hesitant and unsure, that first kiss. But as no thunder
sounded, no lightning struck, it continued to grow in its confidence;
soon my mother's lips were sliding across mine, her teeth were griping
the edges of my mouth.

It was a normal thing for me to hug and kiss my mother; but not on the
lips, not in bed, and not with her tongue sneaking into my mouth and
her hand on my cock.

"My God, this is incredible."  Mom said, "I haven't been this excited
in years. What are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure. This is really weird." I said.

Her thin but strong body was against mine, her full breasts were
pressing into my chest; her free hand was behind my neck, and her
mouth came to mine again.  Of their own accord, my hands slid over her
body; her slim curvy hips, her well toned little ass. Mom's skin was
smooth, silky to the touch.

"We're so dirty."  She said.

"Then perhaps we should stop."  I suggested again.

"Let's have a bath."  She said, "It's been a hot and sweaty 24 hours.
Let's have a bath and fool around."

There wasn't much I could do to eliminate my raging hard on.  While
the bath filled, my mother kneeled between my spread legs, toying with
my genitals.

"What do you feel?"  She asked me again.

"Conflict."  I replied.

"Go on."

"I'm turned on, but everything I've ever been taught is screaming at
me that I shouldn't be."

"Let's see if we can throw away all that Christian guilt culture."  My
mother suggested. "Let's just be natural."

"You think this is natural?"  I asked.

"I don't know.  There's lots of debate about what's natural."  My
mother said, before lowering her head over my penis.

Natural or not, it was impossible to deny how good it felt; a warm
friendly mouth on my dick is the most wonderful thing; I wondered if
it being my mother made the sensation better or worse.

"Yuck, that's disgusting."  My mother said, and I thought that perhaps
this little experiment was at an end. "You're all sticky. Let's have
that bath, then try it again."  She said.

We lay together in the bathtub, our asses in contact, her feet on my
shoulders, and mine against her breasts.  The hot water did nothing to
lower my libido, and neither did my mother's continuing manual
stimulation to my cock and balls.

"It's been a long time since we've had a bath together, Marty."  Mom
laughed, as my toes scraped over her stiff nipple. So strange to think
that I'd been nourished by that nipple once.

It was unbelievable that a person, a mother, would want to do
something like this.  Well, it was unbelievable that a person would
ADMIT to wanting to do something like this.  And yet, somehow here we
were; calmly heading towards sex.  Indeed, it was sex already.  I
hadn't put it in her yet, but if this wasn't sex, then I don't know
what it was.

"This is pretty perverse." I observed.

"You're right, darling, it definitely is. But perversion's all the
rage these days; why, in some places they're letting gay people get
married."

"Homosexuality isn't considered perversion these days, Mom."

"My point exactly. Today gay is good; tomorrow incest is okay."

There was a great sloshing and splashing as mom shifted forward, and
lay against me. Her breasts in soft contact, her hands behind my head,
her pubic hairs were tickling the shaft of my dick that was like a hot
steel rod jutting up between her thighs. Her lips met mine again;
softly at first, as we carefully explored our perverse forbidden lust.
Then her tongue penetrated my weak moral defenses, and the two of us
traveled together down the road of incest.

 Mom does have a sweet ass, I found myself thinking as I ran my hands
over the round fleshy cheeks. So odd that my large body had once lived
inside her small one.

"This has got to be the ultimate, Marty." Mom said, "the ultimate
forbidden fantasy. You're in a naked wet embrace with your own mother.
Dr. Freud, where are you now?"

We kissed some more, as mom continued to squeeze my stiff cock between
her smooth thighs.

We got out of the bath, dried off, and went back to bed.

"Be a good boy, Marty, and lick out your mother." Mom told me,
spreading herself.

Licking my mother's pussy wasn't something that appealed to me, which
I found strange, considering that I was enjoying the rest of this
surreal scene. But she was sucking my dick, and it felt so good that I
decided to do as she asked.

And I was soon enjoying myself. She was fresh and clean from our bath,
and the only taste was her juices as she responded to the stimulation
of my tongue, and I responded to the stimulation of hers. She knew how
to suck cock; she was infinitely better than any of the girls I'd been
with.

I turned. My mother lay naked on her back, her knees up, waiting.
Watching me.

I put the tip of my pecker to her wet entrance; I hesitated.

"Go on, Marty! For God's sake, don't stop now!" My mother said.

For her sake, if not for God's, I pushed my aching dick into my
mother; it slid in there as though it was made for her, and the feel
of her vaginal muscles pulsing in time with my own organ was wonderful
and terrible.

I held myself still, deep within her, as we held each other in our
passionate immoral embrace.  Conflict raged in my consciousness;
desire and lust, disgust and revulsion.

"Go on, Marty."  Mom whispered in my ear, "Go on."

She groaned and gripped my forearms while I started to do her.

"Oh yes, oh yes." She said, and I think she started to come within
seconds.
 I was nearly there myself, but suddenly the thought of coming inside
my own mother seemed abhorrent; I felt my dick wilting.

I came to a stop as her orgasm was subsiding.

"Did you come, sweetie?" she asked me.

"No." I said.

"I didn't think so. Why not? What's wrong?"

"Shit, Mom. everything's wrong."

"Here, lie on top of me and relax." She said, stroking my head and
neck, "It's just the Judeo-Christian guilt complex. Or does this
happen with other women?"

"No. It's never happened before." I told her.

"So. You had no problem with that skinny Italian?"

"No."

"And she was nearly my age, and a married mother of two. Where was
your guilt trip then?"

"I don't know. She was a mother, but not my mother."

"Do you think I'm sexy, Marty?"

"Everyone thinks you're sexy, Mom."

"That's very sweet of you dear, but I wasn't asking that. Do you think
I'm sexy?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever fantasize about me? Sexually, I mean."

"No."

"Come on. Tell the truth."

"Okay, once or twice."

"You were terribly jealous when I went with your friend Amine. That
was when I knew you had the hots for me. I always thought it was
sweet."

"It was embarrassing, Mom. The kids in school all heard that you had
that fling with my buddy, they used to tease me about it."

"I bet there wasn't a single boy there who hadn't had a fantasy of his
own mother at least once."

"I thought you didn't go for that Freudian crap."

"I didn't, but I may have become convinced now. You are, or at least
were, turned on by your old mother. You can't deny that."

"I don't think you're a fair test case. Every guy is turned on by
 you."

"You're such a sweetheart, Marty. Roll over now, and watch me suck
your dick. Go on."

My mother's thick auburn hair tickled my thighs as she sucked my
sticky penis.

"I love your dick, Marty," she paused to say; "you're bigger than your
father."

Her manicured nails were scraping gently at my balls, and I felt the
blood starting to fill my organ again.

"Does that turn you on, Marty? 'Bigger than your father'?  And better
looking, and sexier too.  God, I don't think I've been this turned on,
well; ever.  Relax, Marty.  Let your mind wander free; forget
everything you've learned, everything you know.  Just watch as I put
my mouth over your big gorgeous dick."

I felt my inhibitions start to slide away from me again, as the sight
and sensation of the beautiful woman who happened to be my mother
sucking on my rapidly stiffening penis stimulated the most primitive
part of my brain.

"That's my little boy. A stiff dick is what I want from you, Marty.
MMM. Ok, that's enough of that. I want you in me again, sweetheart."

She'd done it. As I slid my hard dick back into her, I felt hardly a
pang of guilt or disgust; but the sexual energy was still as strong. I
was enjoying it. No, I was reveling in it.

My mother kept coming and coming, it was ridicules.

"Yes baby, yes! Do me, sweetheart. you're so good, Marty, so good."

My own mother; my own mother falling to orgasmic bits as my cock
pounded her, as my lust for her grew and grew.

"This is insane, Marty!  Wonderful and insane!  No wonder this is
forbidden, it's too good.  Oh God, I'm coming again."

By the time I finally shot my load, there was a great build up. Mom
held me tightly, whispering in my ear;

"The best son an open minded mother could hope for; I'm so glad,
sweetie, so glad. I was afraid I'd abused you, but now everything is
fine. It feels good, honey, shoot it in there; oh yeah."

And afterwards, as we lay together in our spaced out post coital
state;

"Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. What about you?"

"I wasn't aware of it, sweetie, I swear. But this is what I've been
longing for, this was my fantasy. After all those years of going with
younger and younger men, now I know it was you I really wanted. Shit,
and I'm supposed to be the shrink."

"Psychologist, Mom."

"I haven't been so well fucked for years. Why don't you leave that
stinky old dorm and move back in with me?"



I've been living at home again for the last year, and it's been fun.
But now I've met a girl I really like, and I don't know how to break
up with my mother. Mom is someone who's used to having things her own
way, it's going to be tough.

Bigby 2001
More Bigby stories at; http://www.asstr.org/~Bigby/
I sure do appreciate getting some mail back; bigbystories@hotmail.com










