[A Mother's Account of Incest (Part 2)]

[A Mother's Account of Incest (Part 2)]
Author: Attending Physician
Word Count: 7508
Published February 22, 2017
That day, I don't know why, my husband and his card-playing friends suddenly decided to play cards at our house. This
had never happened before. Because 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 card 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 initially thought he'd just
touch me as usual, but to my surprise, after pulling down my pants,
he quickly stripped off his own. His erect penis was throbbing, the head almost touching my stomach. I immediately asked, "What
are you trying to do?" My son feigned a pitiful look and said, "Mom, look, my dick's about to burst
, just let me have a go."
I softened for a moment, but perhaps I also had that need myself, so I turned away, pretending to be an ostrich, and deliberately
walked to the table, pretending to wipe it. My clever son naturally understood my meaning. He
grabbed me from behind, his hard 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 the head of his penis against my vulva a few times, knowing that my vagina was already soaking wet
, and said, "Mom, I'm going to put it in now!" Naturally, I was too 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, shoving his sinful penis inside me.
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 raising my buttocks to make it easier for my son to thrust from behind,
I pretended to be doing housework, occasionally chatting with him about things that happened at his school. My son seemed
to understand my feelings, so he obediently chatted with me about this and that, as if we
hadn't done anything, just having a casual conversation. But his penis wasn't idle either; its erect
shaft, like a drill bit, relentlessly pierced my vagina, the large glans pressing against the inner
walls, making me wet and glistening. His hands, too, were restless, reaching inside my bra and brazenly groping my
breasts.
I was both ashamed and terrified, but an 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, the "plop plop" sound of his penis thrusting rapidly in and out of my wet vagina
—sounds that were both embarrassing and stimulating.
Perhaps because it was broad daylight, my orgasm that time came exceptionally quickly and intensely. When the climax came
, I couldn't help but moan, "Oh...ah..." My son, seeing my horny state,
was also very excited and thrust his big cock into me hard, his mouth becoming unrestrained as he said,
"Mom, does your son's cock feel good?" How could I say yes? I just kept shaking my head,
and he deliberately teased me, saying, "Mom means no! Then I'll pull it out!" I was really afraid he
would pull his cock out all at once, but he didn't. He still cared about my feelings.
That time, my son's performance was really great. His hands seemed to have magic power; when he touched my nipples, they got hard ;
when he touched my clitoris, it got hard. Needless to say, his cock, which I gave him, was as hard as an iron rod, the glans hot
and thick, pressing against my clitoris more comforting than anything else. He didn't do anything special, just the usual thrusting in and
out, but I felt exceptionally comfortable, as if each thrust was a pleasant journey. His adorable
glans slid inside my vagina, bumping 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, like a suction cup tightly gripping
my own son's penis, as if trying to suck it dry. My
son's performance was like that of a seasoned fucker. Sometimes he would slap
my vaginal opening hard with his hard cock, making a slapping sound, and then thrust in forcefully; other times he would pull out his cock and
tease my clitoris with the glans, making me unbearably itchy, but I couldn't ask him for anything, so I could only gently sway my plump buttocks, and
the lustful fluid in my vagina would flow out uncontrollably, only to be pushed back by my son's cock.
In short, during that incestuous sexual encounter in broad daylight, I was wantonly played with by my own son
, reaching three orgasms in a row, while he ejaculated twice inside my vagina. After the first
ejaculation, he only rested for a minute or two, his penis remaining inside me without softening, even saying he would block
my entrance to prevent his semen from leaking out.
Soon, my son regained his strength and continued to have sex with me.
Because my vagina was full of my son's semen, the cavity became even more slippery and
the tender flesh of the vaginal walls became exceptionally sensitive, and every thrust of my son's penis inside me brought
me immense pleasure.
After being ejaculated inside me twice by my son, I reached my third orgasm. At that moment, I felt both
incredibly good and exhausted, my legs trembling so much I could barely stand. Before my son's penis was withdrawn, the mixture of my own
vaginal fluid and my son's semen flowed out from the junction of our genitals, covering my
legs completely. When my son pulled his penis out, even more fluid
gushed out of my vagina like a waterfall, soaking a large area of the floor beneath me.
Exhausted, I forgot all about shame and squatted down, letting the fluid from my vagina flow out like I was urinating.
Semen dripped onto the floor beneath me. It was the first time my son had ever 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 remained silent; the two of us maintained a tacit silence.
Once most of the semen had drained from my vagina, I had mostly regained my strength. I quickly got up and
went to the bathroom to wash myself. I then grabbed a towel to wipe my son's 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 bathroom.
My son followed me in. 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. I 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. Now that that line had been crossed, I
simply let go. However, because of my shyness, I still didn't dare to face
him directly when we had sex.
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. I would only offer slight resistance before he penetrated me.
Each time, he would ejaculate inside me, and afterward, he would make me spread my legs so he could see the semen
flowing out.
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 nonchalant attitude that emboldened my son to have sex 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 after being penetrated by my son,
I would inexplicably feel depressed, sometimes even doubting whether I was normal.
To be honest, I've secretly resolved to end this abnormal mother-
son relationship with my son, but when he comes at me, I just can't bring myself to refuse him. I think
deep down, I actually crave incestuous sex with him, 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 pretend to be asleep. During the day, I just pretend to do this and that. Sometimes I even find it ridiculous
. My son is clearly pulling down my pants, searching for my vagina with his erect penis, while I pretend to be
nonchalant, scrubbing a perfectly clean piece of furniture over and over. What's even more absurd
is that while doing these things, I also 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 washing dishes in that squatting position 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 am I supposed to
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 a 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 a drama? But I still had to maintain appearances. I deliberately chatted with my son about
the plot of a TV drama, 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 and wants 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. 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 little while later, my son came in. He quickly took off my pants and first touched my vulva.
He touched me and said, "Mom, let your son help you, okay?" I blushed and shook my head. Then I felt
a tightening in my vagina as a thick, hard penis thrust inside. Although
I had recently experienced an orgasm, it still felt great.
My son hugged my waist tightly from behind, thrusting his lower body forcefully. Because of our height difference, his
penis couldn't penetrate fully, so I squatted down slightly and raised my buttocks as much as possible to allow
his penis to penetrate deeper.
My son moved his lower body rapidly, his large penis, which had emerged from my vagina, sometimes leaving only half of
its glans inside, and sometimes penetrating fully. The movement reminded me of a male and female dog mating.
I suddenly felt very shy, so I made small talk by asking my son about his recent studies. My son
answered my questions half-heartedly, his penis vigorously thrusting into my vagina, while he used one hand to touch
my clitoris. I only asked him two or three questions before I couldn't hold back any longer, and I kept
moaning "Oh... Ah..."
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 to get rid of this!"
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, and to cover my embarrassment, I quickly replied, "Then why don't you hurry
up and 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 also knew that my husband wouldn't stop playing mahjong
until midnight, so I acquiesced to him.
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 while showering was 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 his 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 him, letting him insert his fingers into my vagina to clean me.
My son and I maintained this incestuous sexual relationship without speaking, and this continued for
over a year. Because we were of one mind, things progressed smoothly.
Perhaps because of my role as a mother, in my memory,
almost every sexual encounter between us was initiated by my son; I, as the mother, only passively received, never actively
seeking sex with him, nor did I ever perform oral sex on him.
Have you noticed that I've rambled on so much, yet barely mentioned my husband's and my
sex life? Actually, my husband has a very high sex drive; we have sex about 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 release his lust,
not much different from an inflatable doll. In all these years of marriage, we've had almost no emotional
communication. He never considers my feelings, whether I'm willing or not, whether
I reach orgasm or not; he only cares about himself. So, I always passively accept it,
and I've come to believe that's just how sex is between men and women. This mindset may have also affected my
sex life with my son, to the point that I rarely express my personal feelings and needs in front of him. For a while, I even
thought that actively seeking love from my own son was unimaginable.
But my son is different from my husband. You might think I'm ridiculous,
comparing things like sex, especially between my son and husband.
Sigh! Well, things are what they are, what else can I hide? To be frank, before
having 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 grown incredibly fast, going from 160cm to 175cm tall
, and his penis is almost as big as his father's—the length and girth are nearly identical, but
his hardness is unmatched. However, the biggest difference between my son and his father is that he respects me. This respect
isn't just in words, but 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 everyone
has listened so patiently. If my story is too disorganized, please forgive me,
because there are so many stories between my son and me over the years, so many trivial details, that
I sometimes can't even tell which came first and which came last.
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
completely 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 a strong itch in my vagina and wanted
my son to come and 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.
I called my son to help me wash the dishes twice: once to roll up my sleeves, and another time
to get me the dish soap. That day, for some reason, he just wouldn't get it. After I finished washing
the dishes and came out of the kitchen, 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 took off all my clothes from the waist down and then asked my son, as if to say, "
Where's the pair of underwear I left here?" My son stared at my lower body with a lecherous look and said,
"Mom, you'll have to take them off again when you shower, 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 bottom, 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 checking 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 that, 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 cooperated by sticking my butt out so he could thrust his penis in.
While my son was fucking me, he said, "Mom, after I hand in your homework, I'll do
the homework the teacher assigned."
I said, "I didn't assign any homework."
My son thrust into me hard and said, "Isn't this the homework Mom assigned to her son?"
I said "Oh," and said, "You, you're so shameless."
Actually, he wasn't the only one shameless; 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 very quickly, probably in less than ten minutes. My legs were weak from my son's fucking
. He asked me what was wrong with me, 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 very considerate. He quickly pulled his big cock 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 and shook his big cock, which was covered in my juices, and said, "It's okay,
I can just feed it again when I go to bed tonight."
I was suddenly very touched, and on impulse, I said, "Little Rascal (my son's nickname),
sit on the sofa, and I'll give you oral sex."
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, you can just wipe it with your underwear."
So, my son wiped the sticky fluid off his cock with his underwear and sat down on the sofa.
I knelt naked in front of my own son, opened my mouth, and took his
large penis, which had just emerged from my vagina, into my mouth. This was the first time I had ever given a man oral sex. 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 actually felt pleasure while giving my son oral sex. 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 sexual intercourse.
It was the first time I had ever sat face-to-face with my son on his penis and had 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 his body rising and falling. 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 great! Then I wouldn't have to carry so much of a burden in my heart.
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 over two years, my son and I tacitly maintained a superficially normal but actually illicit mother-son relationship
, until early last year when the plot took a new turn.
(To be continued)

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