Title: Just Your Typical Japanese Family
Keywords: mF, mat, teen, cheat, inc, mom, son, anal, nc, mdom, voy, MF
Author: Caesar
Summary: Nick recalls his life growing up and how his desire to be more Western only made his life that much more Japanese.
 






There once was a Duchess of Beever
Who slept with her golden retriever.
        Said the potted old Duke :
        "Such tricks make me puke!
Were it not for her money, I'd leave her."


Just Your Typical Japanese Family

by Caesar, copyright 2007

$Revision: 1.4 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

I have been asked by friends on line to put down my story so that
anyone can read it.

My name is Nick.  I am of Japanese descent and I came from, what I
think of as, a typical family.  My father was transferred here just
before I entered high school - so I have been exposed to both worlds.

As a young boy, my friends and I used to think of girls in the West as
being very liberal and so we desired the pale skinned blonds from the
television and magazines.  After moving away from our ancestral home,
I discovered that contrary to the media, the West is very conservative
- much more so than in Japan.  For example, incest is taboo in the
West while you will find the reverse is true in Japan.

I grew up in a household that was traditional - in the sense that the
women in the family are inferior to the men.  This is not particular
about my family only but common in most households my parents age or
older.  In a Japanese family the head of the family is the father, and
then the sons, in descending order.  The mother or her daughters have
little to no say about how the house is run.

So if the head of the family looks outside his marriage for sexual
release, his wife can not utter a word, but to accept her life and the
decisions her husband makes.  Her shame to satisfy and interest her
husband is immaterial.  She is the woman and she does not matter, this
is not bias, this is just fact.  Our society is based on male
dominance.

Oh sure many of the younger female generation in Japan is trying to
change this - but they have long years of tradition to fight.  I only
believe this will truly change after the older generation dies off -
until then, many of the Japanese households are still traditional in
their beliefs.

My home was no different.  Even after moving to the West - at home we
spoke Japanese and we lived as when I was growing up.

An early memory was of my father taking mother into their bedroom and
hearing mother making strange noises in the next room through the
paper walls that separated us.  I heard things that stayed with me
until now - telling mother to do things, sexual things that I didn't
understand at the time but realized they excited me for some reason.

As I grew older these sounds stopped coming from my parents room and
dad would stay out until late in the evenings.  Nothing was said but I
felt mother was shamed in some way.

Not until we transferred to this country did I learn that father had a
mistress - only a few years older than I - that he paid for her move
at the same time we did.  Dad sat with her on the plane - mother
acting as if nothing was wrong, and indeed, giving me more attention
than I would have liked at the time.

I never realized that I was senior to my own mother in our home until
I saw her in just her underwear one day.  It was the turning point in
our relationship.  No nothing happened between us - just that I strode
from my room just as mother was leaving the shared bathroom on the top
floor - she had her own room separate from fathers - when we both just
stopped surprised at the sudden appearance of the other.  My eyes
drifted down uncontrollably and I saw the hint of darkness where her
nipples lay beneath her bra and her pussy beneath her white cotton
panty.  I must have glared long enough for mother's cheeks to turn red
and she whispered, "Excuse me son."  I watched her walk down the hall
to her room, her ass moving voluptuously, with a nervous over the
shoulder glance in my direction.

 -*-

Up until that day mother was not even considered a woman in my eyes if
you understand?  I never looked at her like I looked at girls my own
age - she was just, you know, my mother.  But that incident convinced
me that mother had these gorgeous curves that many of my peers were
lacking.  That she was beneath me within the peaking order of our
home, did not hit me until late that same night.

Instead of the blond big breasted girl in my class, I thought of my
own mother as I stroked myself.  As I did that act my fantasies
conjured up some wild images that easily helped me to ejaculate.  It
was after, catching my breath, that I realized mom was a woman.  One
that dad seemed to enjoy ignoring - so her destiny could fall upon my
guiding shoulders.  Thinking back, it was a very strange feeling -
realizing mother had to do what I told her.  And as long as dad did
not find out, or object, more because it would embarrass him and cause
him to loose face, I could do whatever I wished.

Don't think I lost all interest in blond haired white girls - on the
contrary, this was more of a convenient and obtainable outlet for my
growing sexual frustration at that time in my life.  It felt like I
was never going to loose my virginity back then, especially to a blond
haired white girl.

So I strode into the bathroom as mother showered one day - she was
just stepping out of the tub when she froze looking at me - then her
eyes looked for a towel and found only the one in my hand.  She stood
naked and dripping outside the tub, with her hands trying
unsuccessfully to cover her abundant curves and female secrets.

I was in heaven - the first woman I had ever seen naked.  The wide
nipples, the oh so smooth flesh of her heavy breasts, the way her
waist tapered and then flared out to her hips, the silky darkness of
her pubic hair - she was perfect in my eyes.  Only when I reached her
face, and I am a little ashamed that I had started from the bottom and
worked my way up, did I see her tears, her fear and her humiliation.
She could do nothing and we both knew it.

Father did not want her and we both knew it.

I dropped the towel onto the floor and turned to leave - feeling like
a jerk, that I had discredited the family honour.  When supper came
around and we sat to eat, nothing was said, she acted towards me as
she always had.  This calmed my self-loathing more than a little.

Strangely I never feared that she would tell father about my
indiscretion in the bathroom - she could not embarrass him that way.

When darkness came, mother's naked flesh was in my fantasies as I
stroked myself before sleep.

 -*-

The next day, with dad gone, she seemed nervous near me - as if
forcing her normalcy within our relationship was impossible when
alone.  Was she scared of me now?  Why?

As crazy as this sounds, the way my mother was acting towards me was
turning me on.  I have a hard time realizing why this is but guess
that it is based upon feeling like a man for the first time in my
life.  I felt like I could grunt at her to come into my room and I
would give her a command like dad used to do back when we lived in
Japan when I was younger.  "Take me into your mouth...", "... on your
knees woman...", "... move that ass faster..."!  She would do it -
that was the realization in my head - that I could do it with her at
any time.

These thoughts scared me.  Rather than take her up to my room and
loose myself in her submissiveness, I rushed from the house to meet my
friends.

That was the night I stole a still-warm panty from her dirty laundry
and used it to masturbate too before bed.  The thing was, the next day
when I got home after school and found it was missing from where I had
left it on the floor by my bed.  I did a search and found it folded in
the clean clothing on top of the drier - mother never said a word.

 -*-

I am not sure how long it was that mother and I lived our awkwardness
whenever near the other - but I could not help but look upon her as a
willing concubine and she looked upon me as if she was the deer living
with a hungry lion.  The next direct act by me may seem rather tame to
you, but to a virgin teenager with a never-ending libido, it was a
passionate encounter.  Dad sat on the couch laughing at some
television show while mother sat next to him knitting, smiling
politely but probably paying the show no attention.  I had been
sitting on the floor before the couch, my back against it, when mother
sat down to be with dad and I.  The couch itself was another act by
dad that we should life like Westerners did - we even sat in chairs at
a table for our meals.

I immediately realized how close we were, her knees and calves nearly
couching my upper arm and shoulder.  Trying to keep my head faced
forwards, in case dad should look down, I strained my eyes to see that
mothers legs were bare of her normal nylons.  Since that day I had
caught her in her underwear and only reinforced by witnessing her
nudity, mothers legs were beautiful - strong, smooth and curvy.

Wearing skirts and never slacks at any time, her lower legs were
always visible.  I have noticed how they bunched up when she stretched
upon her toes, or how they reshaped when she squatted - I have noticed
so much about her those last weeks.

The act was not proceeded by a conscious thought, I just stretched out
my hand and laid it with my paw grasping her thick calf.  I heard her
knitting needles become silent - but dad broke out laughing at another
joke on the television and I realized how brazen I was doing this.
That didn't cause me to retreat, instead I became aggressive in my
mauling - feeling one calf and then the other, moving from just the
back of her knee to her ankles.  Her flesh was smooth but firm, she
tensing at my touch, and it was so warm.

It is hard to imagine, now years later, just how erotic it was to
touch the smooth soft warm flesh of a woman's calf.  How innocent was
I?  Or perhaps I was simply less demanding in my pleasures back then.

The television program was over way too quickly though I must have
pawed my mother's legs for several minutes at least, when father sat
up to shut off the television.  I realized too late that he could see
me groping his wife, my mother, as he moved to stand up - when
mother's half finished knitted sweater dropped suddenly over her legs,
effectively hiding my sin from her husbands eyes.

 -*-

Less than twenty minutes later I stood before the mirror of the
bathroom brushing my teeth when mom slipped in the door soundlessly.
She looked furious, "How dare you?", she hissed.

I rinsed and spit, saw that her humiliation was hidden behind her
anger - at least for now.

"Do you want to hurt your father - is that it?"

This line of thought had never entered my mind - purposely touching my
mom to get at my father.  How atrocious.  I did not have time to
conjure up a reason why mother may have thought this when I heard
dad's footsteps approach from down the hallway.

Mother and I froze.

"Are you there?"  His voice always so deep and commanding - so unlike
men from the West.

Mother looked horrified that he may know she was there in the bathroom
with me.  Of course nothing was going on but it was certainly
inappropriate.  "I am just getting ready for bed."

And the oddest thing happened at that moment in time - I noticed how
her fear caused her chest to heave, her breasts raising and falling so
expressively.  So with trembling hands I reached out and before mother
realized what I was doing, grasped both her meaty breasts in my big
paws.  Her eyes shot to me in horror and shock but otherwise did not
move.

But I did not care, I held the first female breasts in my life and
they were glorious.  Mother swayed as if she were going to faint and
could not look at me after that single emotion-filled gaze.

"Have you ironed my white shirts?"

Mother swallowed thickly, my hands moving aggressively all over her
chest.  "Yes, but they are still hanging up in the laundry room."  Her
voice failed her at that point with a small squeak that I knew dad
could not have heard.

Tears were rolling down her eyes now.

Father sighed to great effect, "I shall move them to my room as I will
need one tomorrow morning."

We heard his footsteps recede down the hallways.

Mother just stood there for another minute, head hung low, as her son
mauled her bosoms.  I was in heaven.

And then it was over and for the life of me, I could not tell you if
she or I had broke apart first.  But I blinked and I saw her rush from
the bathroom leaving me alone with my thoughts, looking down at my
hands imagining how those soft flesh globes felt.

 -*-

After that encounter with mother, if there had been any doubt or guilt
on my part, it had disintegrated with the touch of my firsts breasts.
You should realize that I spent long hours fantasizing about blond
haired girls with big pale fleshy bosoms - so unlike the girls I had
known in Japan.  I had become a boob man since arriving in the West.
Mom's were larger than the average Japanese girl my age, but she had
extra meat that just seemed to acute her curves.

Just the next day I strode up behind her as she dried the dishes in
the sink to wrap my arms about her torso, each of my hands filled with
tit flesh.  She froze and hissed but otherwise did not move.  What
else could she do - dad was not here and I was the man of the house?

When I started to fumble with the buttons on the front of her dress
she finally started to resist, whimpering 'no' as her hands fought
with my own.  I ignored her, simply focusing on those big meaty
breasts.  Her dress was pulled to either side of her chest and I
yanked and tore at her underwear to release those fleshy globes,
possibly hurting her in the process, and then I had my hands full of
soft warm inviting flesh.  Mother stopped fighting me at that point
and sobbed as I enjoyed a pregnant moment alone with her chest.

While this had been going on I was rhythmically shoving the hardness
in my pants into the soft crack of her ass, pressing her hips against
the edge of the counter.  So innocent in the ways of women was I back
then, that I never recognized how mother's sobs had turned to deep
laboured breathing, how her buttocks pressed back into my groin or how
her nipples hardened almost to diamond-like points.

No, when the moment became almost too much for me to bear, I pulled
myself away from my mother and rushed up to my room and flung myself
into my bed.  I orgasmed in seconds, panting while smiling at the
power I had over my own mother.

 -*-

Mother, I should explain, was a typical middle-aged Japanese woman of
the time.  She was short with a round and cute face.  As she had aged
she had gained weight, much of it going into her breasts and ass - so
that both caused her to have this exaggerated curved figure.  She had
tiny ankles and feet, wide strong calves from being on her feet so
much and shoulder length straight black hair that she wore tucked
behind her ears.

She was as far from the blond-haired girls of my fantasies as I could
get.  But that just did not seem to matter to my lust.

So just one of my school days not long after the kitchen incident, it
was particularly difficult as I had continually been assaulted by
beautiful blond haired girls in my school.  They seemed to be
constantly around me - one even talking to me.  I walked around half
the day with a hard penis behind my school bag.  I was practically in
a trance as I finally strode through the door to our home and found
mother standing surprised with an arm full of clothing.

"Is father home?"

Her head nervously replied in the negative.

My school bag dropped and I rushed as if half-insane.  The clean
clothing fell to the floor and I wrapped my arms about my short cute
curvy mom, my lips attacking her neck and cheek and jaw even as I
humped my painfully hard penis into her soft stomach.  She did not
resist but I felt her move her face so that we were facing and then
our lips touched, opened and I tasted her kisses.  It just made me
hotter so that I was whimpering as if in pain.

Hands fumbled between us, with my belt and zipper.  Was it my own?  My
whole consciousness focused on my penis as that strong tiny hand
wrapped around my hardness and held it.  Mother slipped her tongue
into my mouth and kissed me passionately as her hand began to move
slowly up and down.

I was putty in her hands, no longer the ravaging animal but the
whimpering child.  It took literally seconds for me to start pumping
my seed upon my mothers hip and thighs, soiling her flower patterned
dress, her nylons.  I came in copious amounts which left me panting
with exhaustion.

Then it was over and I stepped back to look at my mother - something
had changed in her, she did not look horrified at my touch, at the
sperm dripping from her clothing.

"Go up to your room and leave me to tidy up?"  It wasn't an order but
I could see that she will need to change her clothing, refold the
laundry strewn over the floor and do at least another load of wash.  I
remember nodding dumbly and moving up to my room after retrieving my
bag - her eyes following me the whole time.

Only after I changed my own pants, which had a few marks of evidence
of my earlier ejaculation, did I realize that I had just gotten my
first hand job.

 -*-

A Japanese lady is often a quiet polite woman that always defers to
the man of the house.  It practically trains the men in her life to
become more dominant, controlled.  When I listened to my parents have
sex when I was younger, listening to dad order his wife to pleasure
him - it was the natural role in their marriage.  With his abandonment
of their marriage bed for another, humiliating his polite and silent
wife, did that her possibilities of a lover, the next male in the
house - me?

I had to be careful of course - dad could never discover what I did
with his wife else he would loose face.  He was the head of our family
and I deferred to him as much as my own mother did.

The opportunities to be alone for any amount of time in our home was
not as frequent as I would have liked.  I had to wait until Saturday
until my father went golfing that I knew I had hours with mother.

Finding her dressing to go out, she explained that she was going
shopping for new clothing.  I was disappointed and told her I wanted
her to stay home.  She looked sheepishly at me and then took her
jacket off.  My heart began to thump faster at that moment.

I took her into the living room and sat beside her.  We began kissing
passionately, saliva soon dripping from our chins as our tongues
duelled.  Mother whimpered as I mauled her beautiful breasts.  Her
hands again had withdrawn my penis, stroking me steadily as we necked.
One of my hands landed on her nylon covered thigh, slipping up beneath
the hem of her skirt.  Mother spread her knees without any direction,
my hand cupping her covered crotch - finding it warm thought the two
layers of undergarments as well as decidedly moist.  She was soon
humping into my hand as I stroked that part of her, my own cock
speeding up in her aggressive fisting.  I let out a loud bear growl as
my seed pumped from my cock, splatting and dribbling down her fist,
onto her arm and onto my tee-shirt covered stomach.

We both fell back onto the couch, her thighs still spread with her
skirt to her navel, me with my half hard penis hanging from my jeans.
We both appraised the other, her eyes devouring my drooling prick.

When mother started to close her legs, to retreat from the couch, I
stopped her with a but a wave of my hand.  She looked surprised but
not hurt by my silent command.  Leaning over I slowly unbuttoned her
flowered patterned dress, from neck to naval, spreading it wide to
expose her lace white bra.  For the life of me I could not see how to
remove this undergarment and instead hefted out her soft pliable flesh
so that they hung above the bra high up on her chest.  The pale flesh,
for a Japanese person, was capped with a dark brown wide nipple -
wrinkled to a point.  I took one nipple into my mouth while twisting
the other between thumb and forefinger.

Mother gasped in surprise and perhaps delight, one hand stroking the
back of my head as I ate from her flesh.  For long minutes did I suck
from her teats, as if hungry for the milk I had received as a baby.
She was mewing in pleasure, clenching her thighs together while
wiggling her ass beneath me.  Looking up from her chest, I could see
my mothers round mature face clenched tight, her mouth open as she
gasped with pleasure of my touch.  It was an empowering moment.

As I had sucked upon her flesh, I had been humping my renewed hardness
into her nylon covered thigh.  The intensity of my second explosion
left me dizzy and almost without strength in my limbs.  I pumped my
seed all over her thighs while distantly realizing mother was
thrashing beneath me while making some pretty intense noises of her
own.

We lay intertwined for a good long while before she stood to leave.  I
followed and she smiled over her shoulder as I followed her to her
small room, smaller even than my own.  I sat on the edge of her bed
and watched her strip down her wrinkled soiled clothing to her plain
white cotton panty.  I saw with pleasure that the front gusset of the
panty was dark with wetness and only then did I realize the new smell
coming from her body.

I could have fucked my mother right there and then - she would never
have denied me.

Instead, seeing her son's penis again hard and lewdly thrusting from
her open soiled jeans, she knelt before me submissively.  I enjoyed
the seconds in this position before her hands rose and both enclosed
my penis yet again.  I watched her work at my hardness, patiently
stroking me up and down - her big bare breasts swaying hypnotically
side to side.

It was when she leaned in closer to rubbed her hard nipples and soft
breast flesh over my hard drooling cock did I really get into it - my
passion rising like the mercury thermometer.  So that in another
moment I was panting, watching as if delirious with a temperature as
my seed pumped for the last time that day over the delicious flesh of
her breasts.

Mother knelt there smiling at me softly as I was finally sexually
sated for the day.
 
 -*-

Back then there was no email and the way we communicated from afar was
through hand written letters.  Leaving Japan I had left several
friends - and had exchanged letters with all of these for a long while
until only one friend lasted the extended separation.  We spoke about
what teenagers talk about - usually girls.

Months before my friend, Saito, had noticeably stopped discussing
girls - wanting to hear about all those strange and wonderful things
that he can not experience back in Japan.  My comments about blond
girls with big boobs went unchallenged, no comments forthcoming.  Only
after seeing my mother come from the bathroom naked did I notice this
admission on his part.  I wrote a long letter about my confusion,
about my strange attraction to my parent, about my parents separated
and cold relationship - it was confusing and disjointed.  I did not
want to look like a pathetic fool but I needed someone to discuss this
strange occurrence in my life.

So after that eventful Saturday I received Saito's return letter and
read it with surprise and exhilaration.  Almost as if it was a normal
occurrence, and years later did I realize that it may just be, he
explained that he and his mother have been lovers for several months.
It was kept from his father, of course, but as long as he concentrated
on his studies and not date other girls, his mother would be available
for him.  He also said that given my parents relationship that he was
surprised I had not moved into this role with her yet.

At that age, I reacted stupidly to this comment and resolved that my
next reply would include a more correct response.

 -*-

Being the good company man that he was, father attended numerous
functions.  Infrequently this included mother - normally to his peers
or superiors dinner parties.  At one such, less than a week from our
intense Saturday encounter and after I had received Saito's response,
I went into mother's bedroom after I heard father go out to the garage
to get the car ready for their short trip.

Mother looked up in surprise at my unannounced entrance and started to
look worried until I explained where father was.  We would be able to
hear him enter the house if he returned and had little fear of being
caught together.

I sat on the edge of her bed that I had sat on when mother had used
her hands to pump my seed all over her pale breasts the other day.  I
watched as she sat at her cosmetic table applying the final touches to
her makeup.  Her eyes nervously looking at me in the reflection.  She
looked very nice, in a dark dress with black sheer nylons and black
heels.  She never wore makeup around the house and I was pleased to
see that she used it conservatively now.

When she finally laid the odd looking instrument back to the top of
her table, I knew she was ready to follow father out to the car.

"Come to me tonight mother."

She turned in her chair and looked at me sharply for a good couple
seconds.  "Your father?"

"After he is asleep."

We looked into each others eyes and I knew she understood what I
wanted.

 -*-

The moon was full and allowed enough light into my room to make
everything glow with an odd gray effect.  Mother's white bathrobe
slipped soundlessly into my room and she froze at the end of my bed
looking down at me.  She was breathing heavily, almost panting and I
wondered if her nipples were hard yet.  The robe fell without any
forewarning and mother stood wearing only white cotton panties - the
rest of her flesh glowing eerily in the moonlight.

My blanket was thrown to the side and mother gasped to see me already
naked, already hard.  As if in a dream she stepped around to the edge
of the bed and looked down at her son.  My hand slipped up and stroked
the outside of her panty, finding it hot and already saturated with
her excitement.

Mother hooked her thumbs into her panties and slipped them down her
curves to step out of them.  I indicated with a hand that she should
pass her panty to me, and almost embarrassed she did, standing
watching as her son put the soiled garment to his nose and inhaled
deeply.  Again that distinctive scent I had smelt in her room the
weekend before, but much more potent.

Like a dream things quickly altered, so that mother climbed over her
son to straddle his thin hips with her knees, she held my hard cock
straight up and positioned herself above.  I felt the hot wet kiss of
her sex before she descended and life would never be the same.

Mother moved with long slow movements of her hips, fucking herself
slowly upon my hard cock.  Her fat beautiful breasts hanging and
swaying above me so that I watched them hypnotically.  My hands had
reached around and grasped her full soft round ass.

I was experiencing and thrilled all at the same time.  Surprised at
how intense the feeling of her sex wrapped about my cock was - how
strong the inner muscles seemed to clench me possessively,
deliciously.

Mother was making these small whimpering noises as if she were hurt,
her eyes clenched tightly, her body quickly breaking out in a sweat,
her muscles already trembling uncontrollably.

She suddenly collapsed onto my chest and locked her lips to my own as
she let out a muffled scream as her cunt muscles danced upon my
instrument.  Her body jerked and I was too stunned and pleased at the
realization that my mother had orgasmed while fucking me that I did
not take my own selfish pleasure at that time.

My mother rolled like a rag doll off me and lay there, panting and
catching her breath.  Her dark eyes open and starring at me almost in
awe.  Eventually her hand slipped down to find me hard and smile
spreading on her lips at the treasure found.

Mother moved with more energy than I would have expected, climbing
onto her knees and elbows, her face into the pillow with her ass high.
A seconds confusion as I lay on my side as she waited patiently.
Realization came to me as if a light turned on in my head and I
climbed up behind her.

Even in that dim gray light I could see everything at an angle never
before appreciated.  The asterisk of her anus, the mysterious folds of
her sex spread out like a flower moving as if panting or throbbing.
Though my cock was almost painfully hard, I took my time and touched
all that I could see - treasuring the sight for all time.  Not just
her vagina but even the long strong lines of her back, the curves of
her soft hips and waist.  From that moment forwards, this would be my
favourite position with any woman I would be with - silently comparing
it to this first time, to my own mother.

My cock fumbled for an entrance and I felt my face flush in shame that
I could not find it.  Mother had not moved to help so I used my
fingers again, allowing them to slip into the hot dripping wet groove
of her sex until they were engulfed in her body.  She moved with
pleasure at the intrusion, pushing her hips back as I started to fuck
her with my fingers.  Next attempt, my cock had better luck - slipping
deeply where my fingers had been.

Mother stuffed a pillow into her mouth and scream with pleasure as I
seated within her for the first time in this position.  It was the
most natural of acts to grasp her soft hips and start to move my hips
back and forth - my pale cock moving dominantly in and out of the
willing wet cunt before it.

Soon her whole body was rocking back and forth, our sexual organs
slamming together loudly, with delicious juicy sounds.  Her body was
glistening in the gray light, sweat pooling on the low points upon her
strong back - dripping down to her shoulders or rolling past her meaty
breasts to the top of my messy bed.

Then I clenched my jaws tight and growled like an animal, shoving
myself as deep as I could into my parents body as my cock jerked and
spit its seed into my mothers body.

It was my turn to collapse, mother falling to her side with me so that
we lay spooned as if made for the other.  I soon fell asleep, images
of mother's naked body in my head.

 -*-

My parent changed after that eventual night together.

I had awoke alone but with the memory.  I found her soiled panty
forgotten beside my bed and I held it to my face with pleasure.

Later, father sat at the table eating his breakfast and reading his
paper as normal, mother placing my own meal before me as I sat.
Nothing was different - at least, until father eventually left the
house.

Mother rushed into my arms, seated upon my lap, kissing me
passionately.  When we broke for air, she looked different and it took
me until I was at school to realize that it was the smile she gave me
- a happy unrestrained smile that I had never seen before.  Mother
rarely showed an extravagance of emotion, let alone joy - but that was
what she showed me then.  I had made my mother happy - it was a
strange but pleasant side affect to my actions, one that I did not
regret in the least.

Naturally my hand grasped a covered breast and her smile only widened.
I nodded towards the table and she immediately understood and slipped
from my lap.  I watched as my mother happily reached beneath her skirt
to push her plain cotton white panty down her long legs, stepping out
and leaving the garment forgotten the on the floor.  Mother faced the
table and pushed the soiled plates away before bending over upon it.

I studied my mother bent over before me for a half minute before
reaching over to flip up the edge of her skirt to her waist.  Mother
was bare beneath her skirt, having not worn nylons and having removed
her panty, and I could see that her sex was already looking moist.
She was breathing heavy as my eyes drunk in this vision, my hands
spreading the cheeks of her ass, her upper thighs to get a more
intimate look.  My thumbs spread the meaty hairy outer lips of her
vagina, spreading her inner lips so that I was shown pink glistening
flower.

She gasped when the finger sunk into her sex, pressing the side of her
face against our dinner table - unconsciously accepting any act I
wished to do with her.  Mother was soon panting and clenching her
internal cunt muscles as my finger frigged her aggressively.  When I
thought her ready, I withdrew it and brought the dripping digit to my
face.  I smelt that distinctive scent, I tasted it for the first time
- ignoring the whimpers and wiggles of my anxious parent.

The finger returned and mother mewed with pleasure until she felt it
attempt entrance to her anus.  It was surprisingly resistant to my
invasion and I stopped trying to push into her and instead just
applied firm pressure until it eventually sunk into her to the second
knuckle.

I was surprised to look up to find mother looking over her shoulder,
her eyes wild and glassy, surprised but nervous and very excited.  For
some reason this embarrassed me and my hands withdrew as I stood up.
Her face fell back to the table and she sighed in pleasure as she
wiggled her ass.

My hard cock had little difficulty finding the correct entrance this
time - sinking into her ready body without a pause.

What else was different from the night before was the sounds mother
made, she did not attempt to muffle her excitement - and her whimpers
of pleasure echoed through our house as I moved aggressively in and
out of her body.

I fucked in this position for a good long while, watching and touching
everything I could reach.  Amused that mother was drooling from her
open mouth so that it pooled on the table beneath her.  My thumb had
returned to her anus and as it moved in and out of her second
entrance, I enjoyed the more animal-like response I received from her
when doing so.

I was able to witness my own mother's orgasm and understand it for
what it was.  She was a lonely, typical Japanese housewife - ignored
sexually - she was putty for my attentions.  I returned to my seat and
snapped my fingers and pointed.  With pregnant movements, mother
slipped from the table and knelt between my thighs and then took the
head of my penis into her mouth.  Surprise filled my already
heightened senses - another equally exquisite pleasure had been
discovered.

Mother's head moved steadily up and down until it left me gasping for
breath and tensing the seconds before I began to pump my load into her
willing mouth.  Loudly I heard her swallow my load and forever after I
would love this intimacy between us.

She lifted her face from my shrinking penis, saliva and sperm upon her
lips and chin - she looked at me almost embarrassed but she looked
pleased never the less.  I patted the top of her head as if she were a
pet that had just pleased me - she beamed in pride and mewed in
response.

 -*-

Let me skip ahead nearly two decades.

My wife was my height, taller in heels that I enjoyed her in,
naturally blond haired and had filled out since our marriage to a
voluptuous soft curvy woman.  The three kids that came along filled
her life for the early years of our marriage - she working part time
more recently.

I loved her, I loved my family.  But I still fucked my mother as often
as I could.

It wasn't infatuation, it wasn't obsession of any kind.  I loved my
mother but I also loved to dominate her, to be the man in her bed.

Through all those years together, she had never denied me anything.
She would do any act for me, seemingly enjoying and happy at any
attention I gave her.

She and dad had not had sex since before she had taken my virginity
that magical night.  She was the typical Japanese housewife, expected
to be there for her husband even though he ignored her in nearly all
ways.  Now, much older, he was around more often, having retired, and
he still expected mother to serve him hand and foot.  But they never
shared a bed - I asked my embarrassed and naturally humiliated mother,
and she admitted her shame that her husband did not find her
desirable.  Perhaps it allowed me to have an unrestrained relationship
with her and I should be thankful - but I had always wondered.

My own wife, I should add, even fuller figure and older of face, was
still attractive to me.  I fucked her as frequently as we could -
determined to give her the attention that my mother never received.
So we had a good healthy sex life, even for a couple with grown kids.
My wife never knew about mother and I and I never hinted at any other
relationship than what she saw.  She stepped naturally into the mixed
roll of a white woman married to a Japanese man.  I was in charge,
there was no doubt about that - but, I guess, since there was nothing
she wanted, that our relationship was accepted.

My kids were great - two girls and the boy, he being in the middle for
age.  I gave all three the attention I never received growing up with
my parent.  Never denying them the emotional contact of a father -
being there for any need that I may help.  My eldest daughter moved
away to college - a tall blond beauty with a hint of Asian, she was
the most beautiful thing in my life.  My boy was a handful, just
finishing high school and filled with energy and intelligence - he was
left wanting for nothing.  Then my youngest daughter, my princess, she
was the spoilt one - dark of hair and eyes but with the pale skin and
figure of her younger mother.

My mother was over frequently - being the babysitter and voice of
wisdom in the early years, to being a friend to my wife in the later
ones.  She was the perfect grandparent and my kids loved her - my wife
was thankful for the traditional closeness of my family.  This also
opened up opportunities for secret encounters with my mother, moments
stolen from busy days - she seeming to need the intimacy as much as I.

Life to this point was blissful - perfect and the life that I could
have picked out as that bumbling Japanese teenager forced to integrate
into the foreign Western society that I found myself in.  The wife of
my dreams, the perfect kids and my own mother as an outlet for my bold
Japanese dominance.

Then it was shattered.  Returning into the house from the still
running car, I had forgotten the envelop with the report I had to meet
about.  I found my wife and son kissing passionately in the kitchen,
both his hands grasping her full meaty ass outside her denim shorts,
their tongues exposed as they kissed.  I slipped backwards, out of the
house to my car - horrified and numb - the envelope and meeting
forgotten.

I locked myself in my office and hung my head in my hands, shocked
beyond belief at what I had seen.  How could this happen?  Why did it
happen?

I had given my wife the attention that my father never gave my mother.
Back in the beginning my mother was starved for any attention, her
body on fire at any touch - so much so that her humiliation at her son
using her was so easily forgotten.  My wife could not compare this
with her life - I never sought young willing girls outside my
marriage, I never slept in another room.  And I dare say, with the
practise gained from being my mother's secret lover, I was an
accomplished husband in our marriage bed.

My son and my wife - lovers!

I could still remember the fire in my veins at the realization of
dominating my mother - of having a willing female for my passionate
teenage desires.  I sensed that heat within the vision I had seen - my
son undergoing a similar path as I had taken.  But why had it started
- where else had there been a similar comparison?

My wife was not even Japanese!  She was pale skinned and blond - the
woman of my teenage dreams.  She did not grow up in a household as
restrictive and as structured as I did.  Oh sure she had found that
our marriage became this way by natural means - but she was silent and
accepted it without a word.

I thought our lives were perfect.

The day was lost in misery but I had regained something as my anger
rose.

 -*-

Two nights later my wife slipped silently from my bed when she thought
me asleep.  I waited and then went down the stairs to where my sons
room was, knowing already where to find her.  The muffled noises
within came as no surprise - I could hear her whimpers, the sloppy
slapping of sex, a single groan of desire from him.

I opened the door to find my blond wife on her knees, a mouth full of
pillow, my son kneeling behind her with hands filled with her soft
fleshy hips as he drove himself in and out of his mother's body.  They
were both naked and sweaty - all three of us froze, horror filling my
wife's face, fear in my son.

They broke apart and I saw the hard penis of my son dripping with
juices of his mother as my son hid his nudity behind his blanket.  My
wife rushed to me sobbing and crying with despair, begging me for
forgiveness.

My hand shot out and down without a thought and I struck her hard
across the side of the face so that she was thrown to the floor at my
feet.  My son stood very still, on the other side of the bed.  "Get to
my bed woman!"  Sobbing and whimpering in pain, my wife crawled
quickly to the door and rushed to her feet to run into the darkness -
her voluptuous body bouncing naturally and wildly.  I pointed at my
seventeen year old son, "You, I will talk too later."

I returned to my marriage bed where I tore the newly worn nightgown
from her body, throwing her onto her stomach.  I raped my wife for the
first time - sodomizing her violently so that there would be blood on
our sheets the next day and she would stay in bed for half a week
afterwards.  It was not the first time I had entered her anally, but
the first that I did not prepare the act with love and gentle
attention first.  No - I used her, needing to reminding her who the
man was.

Only after as I lay panting, she laying sobbing next to me, did I
realize that I had lost face by my discovery of her and my son rather
than letting it go and ignoring it.  Still not sated in my anger, I
retrieved a belt and struck the back of her thighs and ass again and
again until I fell asleep in exhaustion in the chair facing my abused
sobbing wife.

Our relationship changed forever after that night.  I did not fail to
remind her who was the man of our house - who was the head of our
family.  My son was forbidden to be near his mother alone and I
carefully watched them to ensure this directive was followed.  My wife
I used nightly - fucking to punish and not for pleasure.  I wanted to
humiliate her as she had done me - but I was only left feeling angry
and hollowed of emotion.

It was, oddly, my mother who I confessed too - sobbing as she held my
head tenderly as I revealed it all to her.  Then she told me something
that took me completely by surprise - telling me father had known
about us nearly from the beginning.  I was shocked, horrified that it
was known that I was my mothers lover - feeling like a failure to
cause my father to loose face.  She assured me that everything was
fine, that her husband had not lost face or been humiliated because he
no longer desired her, that we had been wise to hide our intimacy.  I
looked up into my parents face and then down to her bare ageing
breasts, the puddles of sperm I had deposited there moments before.

It hit me then, how a Japanese family functions, how it could allow
these incestuous relationships to prosper in secret.  And I felt
better than I had in weeks - even climbing upon my mother for another
fuck.

 -*-

My son sat terrified beside his equally fearful mother in our living
room.  Our youngest daughter would not be home for some hours and I
had staged this after my mother's revelation the day before.

"Do you love your mother boy?"  I was speaking like a Japanese I
realized, loud and sharp - dominant, the uncontested head of his home
and family.  Rarely did I act this way in our home - always trying to
be the 'normal' Western husband and father.

Not knowing where this was going my son nervously nodded positively.

I could not help but lash out, "And you love to fuck her don't you?"
My wife jerked at my aggressive confrontation.

Of course my son sat without moving a muscle - his answer obvious and
I was a bully to ask such a question.

Forcing my voice calmer, "Was she your first?"

He quickly snatched a look beside him to his mother and then nodded
positive to me - embarrassment adding to his fear.

I asked my wife, "When did it start?"

With a quivering fear-filled voice my wife admitted, "Three months
ago."

At my son's age I had been fucking my mother for years and I had
expected a much longer term to their incestuous relationship.

Silence was thick for the minutes after that question.  I knew after I
talked with my mother that I stood to loose my wife - I could not keep
on punishing and hurting her as I had, not if I wanted to keep her.  I
would eventually drive her away, drive her into my son's arms anyways.
She was no Japanese, that was not more evident than now.

It was time to explain to them the new arrangement.  "You will move
into the spare room immediately."  It was my eldest daughters room and
this was effectively banishing my wife from my bed.  She looked up in
surprise, her fear still dominant in her features.  "I am the head of
this house and I shall be obeyed."  Such a Japanese thing to say.
"Now go to your new room, the sight of you makes me angry."

My wife blinked twice until realizing I was dismissing her - she stood
and rushed from the room, doing as I asked.  Did she think I was going
to follow and belt her again or perhaps rape one of her holes.

My son had sat in silence through this, starring carefully at the
floor before his feet.  I softened my voice and spoke earnestly, "In a
typical Japanese family, after the father, the next male child comes
next.  Do you understand what I am saying?"

My son's eyes rose to my own but I could see that he did not
understand.

"I want you to go to your mothers room - be gentle with her because I
had shamefully lost my temper and hurt her - but give her what she
needs."  This time my son blinked his distinctively Asian eyes at me
in confusion and dawning surprise.  "In the secrecy of this house you
have my permission to use your mother."  'Use', not love.  Though I
loved my mother, it was not a romantic love - I used her for sex not
from some misguided emotion.  "I warn you - do not cause me to loose
face again!"

My son's face was slowly showing his surprise and dawning joy and he
nodded positively.  Eventually, "I am sorry dad."

I held back the tear I felt start and nodded.  I waved for him to go,
"Go to your mother boy - enjoy her."  As I had for many years.  I was
suddenly feeling proud of this decision and not so nervous - this was
the right thing to do.

I also felt a little saddened, some part of me that had publicly
denied my heritage by desiring a life so unlike my parents had come
apart.  Without any knowing act of my own, we were more like your
typical Japanese family after all.

My son stopped just before exiting the room, "Thank you dad."  I
nodded as if it was nothing to give your son your wife for his sexual
pleasure.

I saw the question before he asked, answering before it was voiced,
"It is how its done in a Japanese family son."  He nodded as if
understanding - and then I saw the spark of realization form within
in, realizing that I had just admitted an intimate knowledge of his
grandmother, my own parent.

He turned and fled the room - overjoyed at this sudden change of heart
in his father.  I passed my wife's room twenty minutes later and heard
the slow rhythmic movements of the springs of the unused bed - her
sighs.

I left the house as if it were my last day, but it was only the first
of our renewed family life.

Things changed after that.  I found myself a sexy young mistress that
I enjoyed.  Oh, I didn't completely stop fucking my wife - but it was
usually on special occasions, after a party or after drinking.  My son
was overjoyed - probably using his mom day after day, in all ways that
he could imagine.  My wife had become less animated, less emotional -
almost, dare I say it, more Japanese - she rarely smiled, she did her
duty and spoke little.  My father died around that time and I had
mother move to an apartment close to our house - I visited her
frequently and my wife and son understood our relationship was much
like their own - perhaps foretelling their future.

 -*-

It was a couple years later, my son having moved across the country
after college and had gotten married.  Unlike my relationship with my
parent, he had stopped having sex with his mom after meeting his
future bride.  Oh, I think they were intimate on the very rare
occasion that he visited and they found time together - but I knew by
looking at my wife, that it wasn't the same.

After my mother died, I allowed my wife to return to my bedroom but I
did not give up on the pretty young things that seemed to flock to
older men with money.  In the later years of my mother's life, she and
my wife had become fast friends - and I suspected that they had shared
everything about their secret relationships with the men in their
lives.  I guessed that this helped my wife accept her new life - so
Japanese that it surprised even me.

--
