A Mother's Account of Incest (Part 2)

I don't know why, but that day, my husband and his card-playing friends suddenly decided to play cards at our house. This had never happened before. Our house is too small, with only two rooms. They played cards in the living room, while my son and I slept in the bedroom. Even the slightest noise could be heard outside, so we dared not do anything.
The game lasted until after midnight. By the time my husband went to bed, it was almost 1 a.m., and my son had long since fallen asleep.
The next day at noon, my husband went to work. My son, because he hadn't been able to have sex with me the night before, was very impatient. As soon as his father left, he dropped his chopsticks and started pulling down my pants. I thought he would just touch me as usual, but to my surprise, after pulling down my pants, he quickly took off his own. His penis was erect, the glans almost touching my stomach. I hurriedly asked, "What are you trying to do?" My son put on a pitiful look and said, "Mom, look, my dick is about to burst, just let me have a go."
I softened for a moment, but maybe I also had that need myself, so I turned my back and pretended to be an ostrich, even deliberately walking to the table and pretending to wipe it. My clever son naturally understood what I meant. He grabbed me from behind, his hard, large penis pressing directly against my vulva. I didn't say anything, but slightly arched my buttocks back, making it easy for his glans to find the entrance to my vagina. My son rubbed his glans back and forth on my vulva a few times, knowing that my vagina was already wet, and said, "Mom, I'm going to put it in!" I was naturally embarrassed to answer his question, so I deliberately changed the subject, saying, "This table is really old, no matter how much I wipe it, it's never clean." Before I could finish speaking, my son thrust his lower body forward and shoved his sinful penis inside.
That was the first time he had penetrated me in broad daylight.
Although my vagina had been fucked by him countless times, the taboo of incest between mother and son still prevented me from facing this reality. So, while sticking my buttocks up to make it easier for my son to thrust into me from behind, I pretended to be doing housework, occasionally chatting with him about what happened at his school. My son seemed to understand my feelings, so he obediently chatted with me about random things, as if we were just having a casual conversation. But his penis was not idle at all; his erect penis, like a drill bit, rammed into my vagina again and again, the large glans pressing against the inner wall of my vagina, making me wet. His hands were also restless, reaching inside my bra and brazenly touching my breasts.
At that moment, I was both ashamed and scared, but the overwhelming physical desire overcame all fear, making me unable to extricate myself from the pleasure of incest with my own son. I clearly remember the "slap slap slap" sound of my son's abdomen hitting my buttocks, and the "plop plop" sound of his penis thrusting rapidly in and out of my wet vagina. These sounds were both embarrassing and stimulating.
Perhaps because it was broad daylight, my orgasm that time came particularly quickly and intensely. When the orgasm came, I couldn't help but moan, "Oh... ah..." Seeing my slutty appearance, my son was also very excited, and he fucked me hard with his big penis, becoming more unrestrained, saying between thrusts, "Mom, does your son's penis feel good?" How could I say yes? I just kept shaking my head, and he deliberately teased me, saying, "Mom means it's not good! Then I'll pull it out!" I was really afraid that he would pull his penis out suddenly, but he didn't. He still cared about my feelings. My
son's performance that time was really great. His hands seemed to have magic power, touching my nipples and making them hard, touching my clitoris and making it hard. Needless to say, his penis, the one I gave birth to, was as hard as an iron rod, its head hot and thick, pressing against my clitoris with a pleasure that surpassed anything else. He didn't do anything special, just the usual thrusting and withdrawing, but I felt exceptionally comfortable, as if each thrust was a pleasurable journey. His adorable big glans slid inside my vagina, thrusting against my clitoris again and again, making my breasts and buttocks ripple, and causing me to pant heavily; making my clitoris tremble wildly, my vagina tightening and loosening at times, like a suction cup tightly gripping my own son's penis, as if trying to suck it dry.
My son acted like a seasoned pro at fucking. Sometimes he'd slap his hard cock against my vulva with a loud slapping sound, then thrust it in forcefully. Other times he'd pull out and tease my clitoris with the glans, making me unbearably itchy, but too ashamed to beg him. So I could only gently sway my plump buttocks, my vaginal fluids flowing uncontrollably, only to be pushed back down by my son's cock.
In short, that daytime incestuous act between mother and son, I was wantonly played with by my own son, brought to orgasm three times, and he ejaculated twice inside me. After the first ejaculation, he only rested for a minute or two, his cock remaining inside me, saying he wanted to block my entrance to prevent his semen from leaking out.
Soon, my son was back at it, continuing to fuck me.
Because my vagina was full of my son's semen, the cavity became even more slippery and wet, and the tender flesh of my vaginal walls became exceptionally sensitive. Every thrust of my son's penis inside my vagina brought me immense pleasure.
After being ejaculated inside me twice in a row, I reached my third orgasm. At that moment, I felt both incredibly good and exhausted. My legs trembled so much that I could barely stand. Before my son's penis was even withdrawn, the mixture of my own vaginal fluid and my son's semen flowed out from the point where our genitals met, soaking my legs. When my son withdrew his penis, even more fluid gushed out of my vagina like a waterfall, wetting a large area of the floor beneath me
. Exhausted, I didn't care about being ashamed and squatted down, letting the semen from my vagina flow onto the floor like I was urinating. This was the first time my son had seen me like this. He squatted down in front of me, watching me defecate with great curiosity. He probably wanted to ask me something but held back. I blushed and didn't say anything either. The two of us maintained a tacit silence.
After most of the semen had drained from my vagina, I had basically regained my strength. So I quickly got up and went to the toilet to wash myself. Then I grabbed a towel and helped my son wipe his penis. I always cleaned up after him, so I did it out of habit. It wasn't until my son looked at me with a grin that I realized it was broad daylight. My face flushed, and I hurriedly ran into the toilet.
My son followed me in right after. I deliberately put on a stern face and asked him, "What are you trying to do now?" My son smiled and said, "Mom, I saw you were tired, so I wanted to come in and get the mop to mop the floor. We can't leave those things there for Dad to see when he gets home, right?"
I felt incredibly ashamed and a little annoyed, so I said, "I can mop it myself." My son knew I was shy and didn't argue with me; in the end, he was the one who mopped the floor. Thinking about it now, it's quite embarrassing.
I wonder what he was thinking when he was mopping up that huge puddle of incestuous sexual fluid.
After that completely accidental first time, our incestuous sexual relations completely became unrestrained. Originally, not letting my son penetrate me during the day was a bottom line I had set for myself, but now that line had been crossed, I simply let go. However, because of my shyness, I still didn't dare to face him directly when having sex with him.
From then on, whenever my husband wasn't home, my son would find an opportunity to come up and pull down my pants, then have sex with me anywhere in the room, and I would only offer slight resistance before he penetrated me. My son always ejaculates inside my vagina, and after he finishes, he wants me to spread my legs so he can see the semen flowing out of my vagina.
Actually, I'm a rather traditional woman. I usually dress very simply and conservatively. The reason I ended up having incestuous sex with my own son is all my husband's fault. It was his indifferent attitude that emboldened our son to dare to sleep with his mother; it also meant that I didn't bear much psychological burden after being raped by him. However, it's unrealistic to say I had no psychological burden at all, since I was having sex with my own son! So every time my son penetrated me, I would inexplicably feel depressed, sometimes even doubting my own sanity.
To be honest, I've secretly resolved to end this abnormal mother-son relationship with my son, but when he comes at me, I can't bring myself to refuse him. I think deep down, I actually crave incestuous sex with my son, but I've never dared to admit it or face it. To maintain my image as a mother in front of my son, I can only bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. At night, it's easy; I just have to pretend to be asleep. During the day, I have to pretend to do this and that. Sometimes I even find it quite ridiculous. My son is clearly pulling down my pants and using his erect penis to find my vagina, but I have to pretend to be nonchalant and keep wiping a perfectly clean piece of furniture over and over. What's even more ridiculous is that while doing these things, I have to stick my butt out or spread my legs to make it easier for my son to fuck me.
So, whenever my husband is away from home, this absurd and ridiculous farce often unfolds in our house: I'm watching TV or knitting, when suddenly I see my son walking towards me naked. So I get up and go to the kitchen to wash the dishes. While I'm washing the dishes, my son comes up behind me and calmly pulls off my pants, sometimes even stripping me completely naked. And I, as if nothing happened, continue washing my dishes (which are actually very clean and don't need washing). I even bend down, squatting slightly (because my son is shorter than me), letting him thrust his penis against my vulva from behind. Sometimes I even proactively reach down and press his glans against my vaginal opening to help him find the right spot. Everyone knows that squatting while washing dishes is very tiring, but I deliberately choose to suffer, just to make it easier for my son to fuck me from behind.
Fortunately, my son is quite obedient and always cooperates with my performance. We tacitly carried out this incestuous act between mother and son every day, yet outwardly pretended nothing had happened. We'd only indulge ourselves occasionally in moments of intense passion, but most of the time, after intercourse, we'd go back to our own lives.
I remember one evening, my husband went out to play cards after dinner. No sooner had he left than my son came up to me, trying to... well, you know. I said, "You haven't done your homework yet." He replied, "Mom, how can I do my homework if you don't sharpen my pen refill?" I naturally understood what he meant by sharpening the pen refill, so I let him pull down my pants. It was prime time for a TV drama, and I, naked from the waist down, switched the TV to the drama channel, saying, "Don't bother me while I'm watching TV, okay?" My son grunted in agreement, plopped down on the sofa, and then pulled me onto his penis. With my own son's penis inside me, how could I possibly concentrate on watching any drama? But I still had to maintain appearances. I deliberately chatted with my son about the plot of a TV series, while my buttocks moved up and down, stroking his erect penis.
For some reason, my orgasm came exceptionally quickly that day; I ejaculated before even finishing one episode. Afterwards, my body felt weak, and I couldn't even sit up. I said, "Mom's a little tired, I want to rest. Go turn off the TV so it doesn't disturb your homework." My son was considerate; he reluctantly pulled out his still-erect penis and said, "Mom, no need to turn off the TV, just turn the volume down."
Then he put on his clothes and sat down at the dining table to do his homework.
About an hour later, he finished. After tidying up his stationery, my son started taking off his clothes again. I misunderstood, thinking he wasn't satisfied and wanted to fuck me again, so I went to the kitchen to wash the dishes as usual.
A moment later, my son came in. He quickly pulled down my pants, first touching my vulva with his hand, and said, "Mom, let your son help you, okay?" I blushed and shook my head. Then I felt my vagina tighten as a thick, hard penis thrust inside. Although I had just experienced an orgasm not long ago, I still felt pretty good.
My son hugged my waist tightly from behind, thrusting his lower body forcefully. Because of the height difference, his penis couldn't be fully inserted, so I squatted down slightly and stuck my butt out as much as possible to allow his penis to penetrate deeper.
My son thrust his lower body rapidly, his large penis, which had emerged from my vagina, sometimes leaving only half of its glans inside, and sometimes being fully inserted. The movement reminded me of a male and female dog mating. I suddenly felt very shy, so I made conversation by asking my son about his recent studies. My son answered my questions half-heartedly, while his penis vigorously thrust into my vagina, and he even used one hand to touch my clitoris. I only asked him two or three questions before I couldn't hold back any longer, moaning "Oh... Ah..." repeatedly.
This time, my son ejaculated quickly, quite a lot. After he finished, he didn't pull out, but continued to hug me from behind, saying, "Mom, you're so good to me. I thought I'd have to masturbate today!" I said, "Look at you, so impatient. You just finished your homework and you're already taking off your clothes. What can I do?" My son chuckled and said, "Mom, I was just getting ready to take a shower!"
Only then did I realize that he had taken off his clothes to go to the bathroom to shower.
My face flushed red, and to cover my embarrassment, I quickly replied, "Then why don't you go take a shower!" My son said, "Mom, let's shower together." I said, "No, your dad's coming back soon." He said, "No, there's still more than an hour!" I knew my husband never stopped playing mahjong until midnight, so I acquiesced.
So my son didn't even pull his penis out, and just held me like two conjoined twins as we went to the bathroom to shower and continue having sex. Penetration in the shower is truly a unique experience, but because of our mother-son relationship, I didn't want him to be too unrestrained in front of me, so we didn't have much verbal communication during sex, only topics related to my son's studies.
My son ejaculated inside me again. However, because we were showering, I didn't have to squat down as usual, but stood in front of my son, letting him insert his fingers into my vagina to clean my genitals.
My son and I maintained this incestuous sexual relationship without speaking out for over a year. Because we were both in love, things progressed smoothly.
Perhaps due to my role as a mother, in my memory, almost every sexual encounter between us was initiated by my son; I, as the mother, was merely passively receiving. I never initiated sex with him, nor did I ever perform oral sex on him.
Have you noticed that I've rambled on so much but rarely mentioned my sex life with my husband? Actually, my husband has a very high sex drive, almost every two days, and each time it lasts for ten to twenty minutes. So, from a sexual perspective, I don't have a problem with not being sexually satisfied. However, my husband is very domineering. In his eyes, I'm just a woman for him to vent his desires, not much different from an inflatable doll. In all these years of marriage, there has been almost no emotional communication between us. He never considers my feelings, whether I'm willing or not, whether I've reached orgasm or not; he only cares about himself. So I always passively accepted it, and I thought that's just how sex between men and women is. This idea may have also affected my sexual intercourse with my son, to the point that I rarely expressed my personal feelings and needs in front of him. For a while, I even thought that actively seeking love from my own son was an unthinkable thing.
However, my son and my husband are just different. People might think I'm ridiculous, comparing things like sex, especially between my son and husband.
Sigh! Anyway, things are what they are, what can I hide? To be frank, before I had sex with my son, I always thought I hated sex. Since then, I've gone from passively accepting it to looking forward to it; I've started to see sex not as dirty or vulgar, but as a wonderful exchange of souls and physical pleasure. In the
years since we started dating, my son has developed incredibly fast, growing from 160cm to 175cm, and his penis is almost as big as his father's—the length and girth are nearly identical, but the hardness is unmatched. However, the biggest difference between my son and his father is that he respects me. This respect isn't just verbal, but shown in many small details. For example, the foreplay before intercourse, the caresses after orgasm, and how my son would suppress his desires when I didn't want to, instead of simply using me as an outlet for his pent-up emotions.
It was these many heartwarming actions that made me feel my son's deep love, making me willing to bear the stigma of incest rather than betray him.
Memories are always so painful!
I don't know why I've rambled on like this. I'm very grateful that you've all listened so patiently. If my story is too disorganized, please forgive me, because there are so many fragmented stories between my son and me over the years, and sometimes I can't even tell which things came first and which came later.
I remember once I did a good deed, and my son didn't bother me for several days. On the third day, I was almost clean, but my son didn't know. That evening after dinner, my husband went out to play cards again, and my son sat alone on the sofa watching TV. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I felt an itch in my vagina and wanted my son to have sex with me, but I was too shy to say it.
I finished clearing the dishes from the table and deliberately said to my son, "Mom's going to wash the dishes!"
Unlike usual, my son didn't follow me into the kitchen but instead plopped down at the table and started doing his homework.
While washing the dishes, I called my son to help twice: once to roll up my sleeves and the other time to get me the dish soap. That day, for some reason, my son just wouldn't get it. When I came out of the kitchen after washing the dishes, I was furious with him but had nowhere to vent my anger.
I watched TV absentmindedly for a while, and suddenly a brilliant idea struck me—I pretended to change clothes in front of him. I stripped naked from the waist down and then pretended to ask my son, "Where did the pair of underwear I left here go?" My son stared at my crotch with lustful eyes and said, "Mom, you'll have to take them off again in the shower anyway, so don't wear them."
With that, he got up from the sofa and came over.
I knew my plan had worked, so I deliberately turned around and pretended to look for my underwear. My son understood and came behind me. He first gently patted my buttocks, then squatted down behind me and spread my buttocks apart with his hands to look inside.
I said, "What are you looking at?"
My son chuckled and said, "Mom, I'm seeing if you've finished your good deed."
I said, "Whether I've finished or not is none of your business!"
My son said, "It's not my business, but it's my business."
Saying this, he pulled down his pants and brought his already erect penis to my crotch.
I said, "You brat, go do your homework."
Although I said that, I obediently bent over and let him insert his penis.
My son, while fucking me, said, "Mom, after I hand in your homework, I'll do the teacher's assignment."
I said, "I didn't assign any homework."
My son thrust into me forcefully and said, "Isn't this the homework Mom assigned to her son?"
I said "Oh," and said, "You're so irresponsible."
Actually, he wasn't the only one who was irresponsible; that day, I, as his mother, was deliberately seducing him. But my son didn't expose me; instead, he tried his best to satisfy me with his penis.
That day, my orgasm came particularly quickly; probably in less than ten minutes, my legs were weak from my son's fucking. My son asked me what was wrong with concern, and I was too embarrassed to say that I had an orgasm, so I said I was a little tired and wanted to rest. My son was quite considerate. He quickly pulled his large penis out of my vagina and said, "Mom, let me help you go inside and sleep for a while!"
I said, "What about you?"
My son chuckled, shaking his penis, which was covered in my vaginal fluid, and said, "It's okay, I can just feed it again tonight."
I was suddenly very touched, and on impulse, I said, "Little Rascal (my son's nickname), sit on the sofa, and I'll help you get it out with my mouth."
My son looked at me with shining eyes and said, "Really?"
I said, "Just this once."
My son said, "Then I'll go wash up first."
I said, "No need, just wipe it with your underwear."
So, my son wiped the fluid off his penis with his underwear and sat down on the sofa. As for me, I knelt naked in front of my own son, opened my mouth, and took the
large penis that had come out of my vagina into my mouth. This was my first time performing oral sex on a man. I imitated what the women in porn movies did, licking my son's penis with my tongue and sucking on his glans. My son looked down at me, his expression one of pure enjoyment.
The entire oral sex session probably only lasted about five or six minutes. I only asked him once, "Does this feel good?" My son didn't say much, just nodded and said, "Yes."
To my surprise, I also felt pleasure while performing oral sex on my son. I quickly felt aroused again, and a stream of vaginal fluid flowed from my vagina, wetting the floor beneath me.
So I softly said, "Mom's mouth is a little sore." After saying that, I got up and straddled him, taking his penis into my vagina and beginning our second round of intercourse.
It was my first time sitting face-to-face on my son's penis and having sex with him like this, so I was inevitably a little shy. I buried my head in my son's shoulder, afraid to look at him. He didn't speak, just gently held me. Just as I was about to have another climax, he suddenly stood up, supporting my buttocks with both hands, and thrusting into me with each rise and fall. This time, we both reached orgasm almost simultaneously. As he screamed and ejaculated deep into my vagina, I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, my lower body thrusting forward with arousal, like a mother animal being nursed by her son, suckling his essence with my lower mouth.
Now, recalling these little things, it's truly both sweet and bitter. Sigh, sometimes I think: if we weren't mother and son, that would be better! Then I wouldn't have to carry so much emotional burden. But then I think: if he weren't my biological son, would I still be so willing to let him fuck me?
No! Probably not!! Of course not!!!
For more than two years, my son and I tacitly maintained a seemingly normal but actually incestuous mother-son relationship until the beginning of last year, when the plot took a new turn.

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A Mother's Account of Incest (Part 2)

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