



                                           A MUM'S SEDUCTION

                                               by John P
                                            Copyright© 2011


Chapter 1

He looked just like Daddy. Well he would, wouldn't he? Daddy had
made me pregnant and I had given birth to our beautiful son when
I was 13. Daddy had always made me feel good when he had taught
me to make love when I was 12. Was it my duty to teach my son
about making love too? Should I be sliding into bed with my son
and teaching him like Daddy did with me? I wanted to but I
remembered what happened to Daddy when Mum found out that I was
pregnant. She had called the police and Daddy had ended up in
court and was taken away to prison all those years ago. I had
never forgiven her for that and I was happy when she left just
after I turned 18, leaving me and 5-year-old Jimmy on our own.

Bringing Jimmy up on my own had been hard then but as he grew, he
became partly independent, but when I suggested he could bath
himself when he turned 8, he resisted, telling me how nice it
felt when I washed him. What could I say? I spoiled him of course
and continued to wash him until he was 10, sometimes joining him
in the bath myself.

He was used to seeing me naked but he was watching me with more
interest as he got older and I felt kind of naughty that I was
deliberately flashing my tits and cunt at him. He was 11 then and
obviously puberty was making him curious as to the differences
between male and female. He had been overtly playing with his
dick in the bath as I washed myself and I didn't have the heart
to stop him. He was be so intent on watching my tits as I washed
them that he didn't see me watching his face, seeing the look of
young lust in his eyes. He fancied my 24-year-old body and I
swelled with pride that a handsome young boy could find me so
attractive. When he finally looked into my face, I always turned
away so that I would not betray the fact that I had seen him
touching his stiffening dick. I tried not to watch him doing it
but I couldn't deny that it was turning me on.

When we had finished bathing, I would adopt a business-like
attitude and we would step out to dry ourselves. When he said
that he wanted to dry me that first time, I couldn't immediately
conjure up a reason to say no so I handed him the towel and he
dried me, concentrating mostly on my tits, pussy and bum. It had
been so long since I had enjoyed Daddy's hands and fingers on me
and I was transported back to the happy days of Daddy's "abuse".
Oh how I missed those days when Daddy made me cum with his hands
and fingers... and tongue.

As my turn came to dry my son, I tried not to stare at the stiff
dick which waved at me from his groin. He was growing fast and
some girl was going to be delighted by his size when he started
to date them. When I dried him, my pussy became moist as I
touched his most intimate places. His dick was always hard,
pulsing with his heartbeat, and as I gently dried his balls with
the towel, there always came a sharp intake of breath from him.
When he turned around for me to dry his back, he would open his
legs and I would stare at his anus, wanting to excite him as I
did with Daddy by inserting a wet finger into it. I didn't dare
risk it, not yet anyway. I wanted to teach my son about making
love but I was scared. I didn't want to go to prison for
"abusing" him.

Before we dressed, we always hugged a little after these
bath-times. Being only 11, his height meant that his head came up
against my breasts. I wanted to press my nipple to his lips, to
feel his mouth on me again like when he was a baby. I could feel
too his stiff dick against my thigh and I resisted as best I
could the urge to touch it, to play with it.

Since then, he had grown more and now, at 13, he was the same
height as me, and when we hugged after bathing, his stiff thick
dick pressed against my naked pussy. I wanted him! I wanted his
dick! 'Love me, Jimmy! Love Mummy!' I begged silently but I
hadn't the courage to do anything sexual to him. Instead, I would
go to my bedroom later and frig myself to the image of Daddy or
Jimmy in bed with me, wanking and sucking them before begging
them to penetrate my soaking wet pussy, moaning my desire that
they fuck me violently so that they make me cum. Each time, I
experienced the most intense orgasm using my fingers and
imagination.



I looked in on him before going to my own bed, as I always did.
There he lay, my 13-year-old son Jimmy, sleeping peacefully in
his innocence, blissfully unaware of his mother's gaze. He had
pushed the covers down in his sleep and I stared for a minute at
the place where his T-shirt had ridden up, displaying his fine
taut belly above his underpants. I wanted to touch his skin, to
feel the muscles, but I didn't want to risk waking him. His face,
so handsome and innocent, was half covered by his black hair that
had flopped down and I pushed the hair aside and smiled to myself
as I looked at him.

I couldn't help it but I was checking out the bulge in his
underpants. I could see that he was soft but I couldn't forget
the sight of his naked stiff 4" long dick each time we took a
bath together. It had become quite thick now; he had obviously
taken after Daddy in the cock department. The desire to slide
into his bed was overwhelming but I knew that I had to resist it.
I replaced his covers and softly kissed his face, smelling the
perfumed soap on his skin, and then I closed the door and went to
my own room to sleep.

Sleep evaded me and soon my fingers were inside my knickers and I
rubbed my clit vigorously with the image of Jimmy in my mind.
With my eyes closed in concentration, I was sucking his dick,
feeling his hardness with my tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum
which came from his pee-slit. 'He's cumming, my Jimmy's cumming
in my mouth!' Suddenly my body stiffened as I came violently on
my fingers. And then I drifted off to sleep.



About 5 weeks before his 14th birthday, I got a phone call at 2
pm from the school's headmaster, telling me there had been an
accident and Jimmy had been taken to the hospital by the gym
teacher. I rushed to the hospital casualty department and found
the doctor examining my little boy. He was in obvious pain and I
got the story from Jimmy as he explained to the doctor what had
happened. A football game, a bad tackle, and 2 other boys had
fallen on my little angel. He still wore his football shirt and
white shorts, and the gym-teacher handed over his regular school
clothes, packed into an ASDA plastic shopping bag.

After being swiftly sent for X-ray, the ulna in his right
fore-arm was discovered to be broken and plaster was applied to
the arm and his arm suspended in a sling. The football boots
which had trampled on Jimmy's left hand had caused no broken
bones but abrasions had to be bandaged before I took my little
soldier home. On the way home, I treated him like a 4-year-old
until he said, "Mom, I'm not a kid!" and then I stopped fussing
over him.

Once at home, I started fussing again and then, realising my
mistake again, I shelved my over-maternal feeling and began
nursing him in an appropriate manner. Feeding and watering Jimmy
was all that was needed and I set about the task, thinking to
myself how he could have died or been paralysed for ever. I got a
grip and made him a meal but then of course, he couldn't use
utensils or hold the glass of milk. Now, I was in my element. He
needed me again, just like when he was young. How good I felt as
I spoon-fed him and held the glass to his lips so that he could
drink! Best of all, he couldn't stop me looking after him because
he knew that it had to be that way.

Something I hadn't previously thought of was suddenly brought to
the fore when he said, "Mum, I need to pee." I stood stock still,
frozen where I stood. The implications hit me and I realised that
I would have to do other things for him too. Hold his dick as he
peed, wipe his bottom and wash him. The prospect of doing all
this for my almost 14-year-old son didn't daunt me but what DID
worry me was the fact that I might do things I shouldn't while
helping him. All the same, I would have to do these things for
him.

With one arm in a sling and the other hand bandaged, he stood
before the toilet and I pulled down his white shorts and reached
for his dick. It felt so hot between my fingers as I drew it out
and I felt it pulse and thicken slightly as I pulled back the
foreskin. He started to pee when I had aimed it at the bowl and I
prayed silently that I would not get carried away and start to
wank him off afterwards. When he had finished, I shook the drops
off, just as I used to do with Daddy all those years ago. As I
pulled up his shorts, I thanked God that my shaking hands had not
started to masturbate him!

While my fingers held his lovely dick, I had not looked up into
his face, fearing that he might see some sign that I was aroused
by it. The image for my masturbation tonight would be that same
dick that I had just handled and my imagination would soar as I
pictured wanking it and perhaps sucking it. It was then that I
felt dampness between my pussy-lips; I was turned on by my son
again!

After helping him back downstairs, I turned on the TV for him,
selected the channel he wanted and retired to the kitchen to
compose myself. I had to get a grip on myself. I couldn't let my
base instincts take over but I also couldn't forget Daddy and all
the wonderful things he had taught me about love-making when I
was 12. He had taught me everything so lovingly and I had enjoyed
it all. Oral sex, masturbation, anal sex; it had all felt so
good. His stories too of sex with men excited me and he would
often show me what they did together. Daddy had even bought a
strap-on dildo and taught me how to strap it onto my hips and
fuck his bum with it. It was then that I confessed to Daddy that
I fancied a girl at school and he made me tell him what we did to
each other. After telling him that, he became insatiable and he
would make me cum several times before I collapsed, worn out from
our vigorous love-making.

I began to analyse my motives then, wondering if it was Jimmy's
love-making education that I cared about or was it perhaps my own
sexual hunger that needed satisfying. Guilt was overwhelming me
and I was doing my best to cope with it. Girls his own age would
educate him, or at least he would practice on them, I told
myself. Suddenly I thought, 'Or will it be boys that he wants?'
It didn't worry me; in fact suddenly I felt my pussy become moist
again as I pictured him bent over the settee arm with Daddy's
long thick cock fucking his lovely young bottom. 'Oh God, please
stop me thinking about this!'

I left the kitchen, hoping that these filthy thoughts would go
away and I sat in the chair next to the settee where Jimmy lay.
We watched TV but I began to think about bath-time and bed-time.
I would wash his body, my soapy fingers running over his skin,
running between his legs and touching his sex. Then I realised
that the painkillers I had been given for him were not for oral
use but to be pushed up inside his bottom with my finger. God,
suddenly I thought of Daddy again and what I used to do with his
bottom before pushing my strap-on dildo deep inside him and
fucking him.

"Are you ready for a bath yet, Jimmy?" I asked, a slight tremble
in my voice. He still had patches of mud on his legs from the
football pitch he had been playing on and it needed washing off
before bed.

"Sure, Mum," he said, his soft eyes resting once more on my
T-shirt. My lack of bra must have allowed my rigid nipples to
poke out and Jimmy tried to pretend that he wasn't gazing at
them. I had to pretend too that I wasn't aware of my nipples
being visible but neither of us was successful.

I helped him upstairs, holding him from behind in case he
over-balanced, and we headed for the bathroom. On the way up, I
watched his muscular legs and I could see the hairs which covered
them, many more now than a year ago and much darker; not a
child's legs any more but those of a young adult. In the
bathroom, I stripped off Jimmy's shorts, his sling, and finally
his shirt so that he stood naked once more before me.

Once I had turned on the taps to fill the bath, I stood next to
my son again, my fingers and thumb aiming his dick into the
toilet bowl so that he could pee. His foreskin covered his knob
and I had to pull it back so that his pee-slit was uncovered and
I watched the urine being forced out, impressed by the flow. When
the flow stopped, I shook the drops off and I felt the dick begin
to thicken again. I coughed nervously, let go of his dick and
said, "I think the bath's ready."

While helping him into the bath, my eyes were drawn to his sturdy
thighs and his taut buttocks. As he settled himself in the 18" of
water, my eyes swept over his chest and his face with his
laughing eyes and the sensual mouth which just invited kisses.
Some girl, or maybe some boy, would press their mouth to my son's
lips and I began to picture his tongue forcing its way into the
mouth of another, taking their lips between his own and licking
them. 'Stop it, Helen!' I told myself and decided to force myself
into dealing with reality.

This time, I didn't join him in the bath but knelt beside it and
began to rub shampoo into his dark hair. I'm sure that his eyes
were open and watching my nipples through my T-shirt as I bent
forward to wash his hair and I was fairly sure that they were
hardening with arousal. He had laid his arms on each side of the
bath to keep the plaster and bandage dry and it meant that my
breasts kept touching his naked upper arm, above where the
plaster encased him. Was I deliberately rubbing my tits against
my son?

It was time to rinse his hair and I helped him to lie down,
ensuring that his arms could not be made wet and as he closed his
eyes, I splashed water to remove the shampoo. When it was done, I
helped him to stand and I began to wash him, first his face and
neck and then his chest. His nipples hardened as my fingertips
passed over them and as I headed south, I stopped when I got to
his sparse pubic hair, using my hands to turn him around so that
I could begin washing his back.

My soapy hands caressed Jimmy's shoulders and I moved south down
his back, ending up at his buttocks, taut in their youth. He
automatically opened his legs and bent forward so that I could
reach between his legs. His rosebud, so pink and cute, looked so
inviting and I took one soapy finger and began to press against
the pucker. As my fingertip entered him, he sucked in his breath
but I knew that it wasn't from pain. Although I shouldn't have
done it, I pushed inside him until my whole finger was buried in
his young bum-hole. I pulled out a couple of inches and then
plunged it back in and I swear that he pushed back towards me. I
did it twice more but my courage was failing me and I withdrew it
completely, washing all around the outside of his hole.

When I got him to turn around and face me, he revealed a
wonderful hard-on. More than 4" of thick boy-cock pulsed with his
heartbeat and I was mesmerised by the sight. I looked up into his
face and I saw those soft eyes of his looking down at me. We
stayed like that for a few seconds, each watching the other for a
sign, I suppose. But a sign of what? Should I take his stiffness
in my hand? Was it right? Would he be horrified if I touched him
in that way? My conscience kicked in about then and I pretended
that nothing was amiss.

"Let's get the rest of you clean," I said brightly but it was not
at all how I felt. Taking up the soap again, I worked up a lather
and then began to wash around the root his dick, and although I
tried to avoid direct contact with his hard-on, it just wasn't
possible and I brushed against it frequently. Then I could not
put it off any longer. I put my hands between his legs and
fondled his ball-sac with my fingertips, spreading the soap
around and feeling his sperm-laden balls. He shuddered at my
touch and his cock lurched as my fingers continued. Behind his
balls, I could feel his perineum and I was conscious of that part
of his dick which was hidden between his legs.

My knickers became moist again as I became more aroused; touching
my son like this was turning me on considerably as I gazed
fixedly at his genitals. It was time for his dick. I pulled back
his foreskin and his large knob appeared, deep red and leaking.
'God! He's making pre-cum!' I thought and, for some reason, my
mind went into confusion. He was almost 14, I rationalised, and
able to father a child. Why had I not realised this before now?
Or was it that I deliberately ignored the fact that he wasn't
really a child any more?

I had to go on with washing him and, pulling back his foreskin
carefully, I held it with my fingers against his groin. The full
length of his shaft was on show then and I took my other hand and
used a masturbating action with my closed hand to spread the soap
along it's length. His eyes closed and I could hear his breathing
change as I moved my hand backwards and forwards. The soap in my
palm worked as a lubricant and I knew that he was getting immense
satisfaction and arousal from my hand which was effectively
wanking him off.

'Oh God! I'm wanking my son! I'm trying to make him cum!' No, I
mustn't! I stopped at once and, with trembling hand, I scooped
water from the bath to rinse his dick before I became carried
away and made him cum. When I looked up into his face, I'm sure
that I detected disappointment but I was determined not to allow
my feelings to get out of hand again.

Taking up the soap quickly, I made some lather and started
immediately on his legs, washing briskly so that this job would
be finished as soon as possible and I could escape from this
situation. I finished washing him and helped him out of the bath,
beginning immediately to dry him and thinking about anything
other than the attraction I felt for my Jimmy. As I used the
towel on him, I avoided looking at his dick but I couldn't avoid
touching him though and soon I felt my knickers becoming wet
again as I felt his dick and balls through the thick fabric of
the towel.

His plaster and bandage had remained dry so I put his sling back
on him and threw a bathrobe over his naked body and we went back
downstairs to watch some more TV. As we watched, I had to figure
out about sleeping arrangements. If he wanted the toilet during
the night, I needed to be with him so the only answer was to let
him sleep in my bed with me. I would have to fix a couple of
pillows for him to rest his arm on once the sling had been
removed so that he could sleep. There would be no point in him
wearing underpants or T-shirt so he would sleep naked in my bed.
Oh God! Something more to worry about!

When he became tired, he said he needed to go to bed so I
explained that he would need to sleep in my bed. It was a double
bed so space presented no problem and I would fix a pillow for
his arm. Before then, he would need his medication though and I
explained that it was a suppository and that it had to be pushed
into his bum. He seemed a little taken aback by that but
foolishly, and without thinking, I smiled and blurted out, "Your
dad used to love me pushing my finger up him!"

I was mortified! As soon as I'd said it, I looked into his face,
expecting horror or disgust, but he was grinning.

"You used to do stuff like that?" he asked and my face turned a
deep scarlet.

I rallied my thoughts and reverted to being business-like again.
"Come on, Jimmy. Let's get you fixed up and off to bed."

With the suppository ready, I took off his bath-robe and made him
shuffle down until he was almost lying down with his legs spread
wide. He watched me put my forefinger into my mouth to wet it and
I concentrated on his little rosebud as I pushed my finger inside
him.

"I need to get you wet inside so that the suppository will slide
up easily," I lied. In truth, I wanted to give him pleasure, the
same pleasure that Daddy used to get from my fingers all those
years ago. I took my finger out and this time, I wet 2 fingers
and gently pushed them both together into his lovely bum. His
dick jumped and began to stiffen as a result of my manipulation.
He drew in his breath and I asked, "Am I hurting you, Jimmy?" but
his eyes were closed and there was the hint of a smile on his
face.

"No, Mum," he panted, "keep going," and I began to realise that
it was pleasure, not pain which was changing his breathing.

I kept finger-fucking him carefully, moving my fingers back and
forth in his rectum. He began moaning and I figured that I'd
better stop before he started to pump his spunk everywhere. So I
took the suppository and placed it into his rosebud and pushed.
It slid in and I used my 2 fingers to push it up as far as I
could. When I took my fingers out of his bottom, he looked
disappointed but not as much as I was. I wanted to see him cum,
to see his dick jerk and the cum splash out onto his belly.

"Time for bed, Jimmy," I said and helped him to get up off the
settee. I threw the bath-robe over his shoulders and helped him
up the stairs and to my bedroom. I pulled back the sheets and
made him lie down, taking off his sling and his bath-robe, and
positioning a pillow for his arm to rest on. When he seemed
comfortable, I covered his naked body, kissed him on the lips and
turned out the light before going back downstairs.

Once back in the living room, my hands went down into my
underwear and I felt the moistness between my pussy-lips and what
had leaked into my knickers. I was still shaking after my
activities with Jimmy and it reminded me of Daddy's shaking hands
when he first started to molest me. He had come to my room and
started touching my little breasts and I'd liked it, encouraging
him to pinch my nipples and use his mouth on them. Once he
realised that I actually wanted him to do sex stuff with me, his
shaking stopped and he would become the one person to whom I
would go every time I felt the need for a man to touch me. Every
time my mother went out, I would take off my knickers and we
would go to bed together or he would spread me out on our settee.
He made me feel so sexy or should I use the word 'horny'? I could
never get enough of the things that he did to me. God, he was
wonderful!

'I'd better take a bath,' I thought. 'I can't have Jimmy smelling
sex on me when I climb in with him.' So I turned out the light
and went upstairs to my room. On my way, I turned the tap on for
the bath and, while it was filling, I stripped naked. I would
need clean knickers from my drawer in the bedroom but I could put
them on when I got there after my bath.

I lay in the bath, thinking of the eventful day and all that had
happened since I had brought Jimmy home from the hospital. This
did absolutely nothing to calm my libido; in fact I could not
shake off the image of stroking his stiff dick and his velvety
soft ball-sac as I handled his sex. I washed my wet pussy,
allowing my finger to stroke between the lips and touching my
clitoris. I willed myself to stop it and continued bathing until
I was clean and fresh again.

Dry once more and padding very quietly to the bedroom, I heard
Jimmy moaning softly and went to find out what was wrong.
Illumination from the street lights came through my thin curtains
and I halted in the doorway and beheld my son. The sheets were
pushed down and his bandaged hand was rubbing his now very stiff
dick. He was trying to masturbate with his left bandaged hand! I
ducked back from the doorway and leaned against the wall in the
hallway, gasping. My Jimmy! My poor Jimmy needed to cum! 'I'll do
it, Jimmy! Mummy will make you cum, my precious boy!' I thought.
But how? I couldn't just go barging in there. He would be
mortified if I caught him red-handed, wouldn't he? What should I
do?

I sneaked back to the bathroom and then made a noisy exit,
alerting him to the fact that Mum was heading his way but giving
him time to cover himself before I appeared in the bedroom. When
I got there, he pretended to be sleeping but he forgot about his
stiff dick which was presently tenting the sheets. I'd forgotten
that I was naked myself and when he 'woke' during my entry, he
stared again at my body.

"Can't sleep, Jimmy?" I asked and he shook his head. "I'll cuddle
you then," I said and, forgetting about putting on clean
knickers, I slid into bed with him naked. Our naked bodies
touched, my breast against his arm and his bandaged hand next to
my pussy. "Have you still got pain?" I asked and he shook his
head. "Why can't you sleep then?" I asked softly, even though I
knew the answer.

"I don't know, Mum," he said but he wasn't looking at me as he
answered. I wasn't sure how to broach the subject so I tried some
sex education.

"You know, most boys and men need to 'relax' themselves to get a
good night's sleep. Women and girls do too. We're no different to
you hunky men, you know," and I laughed nervously. "I'll probably
need to 'relax' myself too to get to sleep."

"You mean...?" he started and I whispered, "Yes, of course. What
do you think I do at night when I go to bed? Why not? I've always
taught you that it's natural, haven't I?"

"Well, yes, but I'm... well, I can't... you know..." and his
voice trailed off.

"Would you like me to do it for you?" I whispered and my heart
stood still as I waited breathlessly for his answer.

Seconds went by before he answered. "You mean... you'd... you
know...?" His whisper seemed to convey disbelief in what he had
heard. I could almost hear his brain asking, 'Is Mum going to
wank me off?' and my own brain was shouting silently, 'Yes,
Jimmy, let me do it! I want to do it so much!'

"Oh Mum!" he whispered and he turned his head towards me and
kissed me on the lips. I wasn't ready for that but I quickly
responded and kissed him back, not with tongue but more than just
a motherly peck.

As I moved my hand down his chest towards his dick, I whispered,
"If you want me to stop, just tell me." I pushed down the sheets
and saw my son's rigid dick, that dick of which I dreamed often
in my lonely bed. His pre-cum glistened in the light and I used
one of my fingers to delicately spread the slimy stuff around his
knob. His breathing quickened and suddenly his arm closed around
my neck as he pulled me closer to him. I was gazing at my fingers
as I stroked his knob and he began to kiss my cheek, the only
part of my face that he could reach. Then I turned my head and
suddenly my mouth was on his, my tongue licking his lips and then
he opened his mouth!

My fingers stopped for a moment and suddenly my tongue went
between his lips. Even more shocking was when he began to suck on
it! Oh my God! His bandaged hand began to move down my back and
the fingertips which weren't covered by the bandage stroked my
spine. Oh God! Oh God! This was love-making, not just
masturbation! My son was sucking on my tongue and caressing my
back and I was fingering his dick so that he would be certain to
ejaculate!

I grasped his hot erection and began to wank in earnest as his
teeth grasped my tongue gently and his own tongue licked mine. I
was flying, my desire for sex taking me over completely, and I
moaned into his mouth. He forced my tongue back out of his mouth
and he breathed huskily, "Oh Mum!" before looking down his body
at the hand which was now stroking his dick so firmly. "Oh Mum!"
he moaned and I watched his dick too, marvelling at how strong
and sexy it was, so hard and big.

His foreskin kept covering the knob and then uncovering it as I
used my hand to stroke the entire 4" length and although I wanted
to stroke his balls too, I had only one hand available. His hot
shaft was in my palm and I never wanted to relinquish it, not
even to it's owner. I wanted to suck, to put my mouth on my son's
dick and suck all the spunk from it but that would be for another
time, not for now.

"Oh Jimmy!" I moaned as I wanked him. I tore my eyes away and
looked into his. His expression was one of pure lust, the same
lust that I had seen in Daddy's eyes each time I had wanked him
off. There was no smiling now. This was no gentle love-making.
This was just the pure raw lust of a 14-year-old boy with a woman
who was going to make him cum. All that mattered just now was
that he would shoot his spunk.

"I'm cumming, Mum!" he whispered hoarsely and we both looked down
his body to where my hand was moving faster. "Make me cum! Make
me cum!"

This was no little boy now, no snotty-nosed child, but a male
whose urgency could not be ignored. I was part of this, an
important part, and I would have given up none of this, no matter
what I had been offered. I had to see it; I had to see my son
shooting his spunk.

His body went rigid and his hips rose off the bed as the dick in
my hand jerked, and I felt the big tube under his dick pulsing as
gobs of hot spunk were shot out and splattered on his belly.
First one, then another and another. I watched with awe as my
Jimmy's hips began to buck, fucking my hand obscenely. Even after
the spunk had stopped, his hips still bucked and suddenly his
face turned towards me, his eyes shut, and I leant up on one
elbow so that my breast was against his lips. Like a baby, he
searched blindly for the elongated nipple and I made sure that he
found it.

Without opening his eyes, he nursed at my breast and I stopped
wanking him, bringing my hand up to my mouth and licking off the
spunk which my son had made and which had dribbled onto my thumb.
As my son suckled, I put my hand between my legs and touched my
soaking cunt, playing with my clit as I watched his dick begin to
soften. I wanted to taste more of his spunk and I gathered it up
from his belly and put my fingers to my lips and licked them,
savouring my little boy's seed for the first time. Within 30
seconds, I climaxed more strongly than I could ever remember and
when I looked down at my child, he was sleeping soundly, his lips
still sucking at his mother's breast.


All my stories can be found here:
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/John_P/

