Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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My mother left my father and me suddenly when I was in my teens. Over the next several years, my father dated a few different women. The one woman who I liked the most was Samantha. My father had introduced me to her after they'd been out a few times. She was a tall, voluptuous woman with wide hips and huge boobs. She and I hit it off immediately. She didn't immediately try to treat me as if I were her son. But she had a gentle, maternal way about her that I found to be very pleasant.
During the time immediately after my high school graduation, I began to feel a strange tension in my house. My father began acting differently. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but there was something happening that I wasn't aware of. Soon afterward, it was announced he would be marrying Samantha. The wedding was put together very quickly and they were wed only 3 months later.
They decided against going on a honeymoon and I quickly learned why. About 5 weeks after they were married, my father and Samantha sat me down and told me my father had been diagnosed with cancer. 6 months later he passed away.
His passing seemed so sudden. I wasn't at all ready for him to leave. But thankfully Samantha was there, we grieved together and that event brought us closer together. She and I spent those terrible months after his death growing extremely close to one another. We cried together, we laughed together, we grieved his passing until it hurt much less on a daily basis.
I put off college indefinitely. I kept the job I'd had through high school and spent my free time at home with Samantha. All my friends had left for college, so I really had no one else to spend time with. Not that I really wanted to, Samantha had proven to be a very good friend and stepmother.
Over time, I learned she was very open about sexuality. We had long talks about hetero, homo, and bisexuality. She loved to talk about fetishes, domination, submission, and exhibitionism were her favorites. She must've known when she began going into details about different fetishes, my mind was absorbing all she said. I used those little talks as fantasies during my alone times at night.
While heading to bed one evening, I stopped and kissed her goodnight. She sat there on the couch and looked up from the show she was watching. She asked if I was going to masturbate. I blushed, nodded my head and in a soft voice, told I was. She smiled and told me to take the box of tissues from the bathroom to clean up. She also told me to go pee afterward so I wouldn't get a bladder infection.
I stumbled out of the room with humiliation burning to my core. Samantha knew I was going to masturbate! She asked and I told her I was going to play with myself! I was so embarrassed. But at the same time, my penis was rock-hard in my pants! I was mortified, but I did move the box of tissues to my bedside before I began. And I followed her instructions about using the bathroom afterward.
The next morning, I walked into the kitchen and while she poured me a glass of juice, she asked if I had a nice orgasm before falling asleep. I blushed and smiled, then told her I had a very nice orgasm. Over breakfast that morning, we had a long talk about masturbation. She reminded me it was a natural thing and I shouldn't be ashamed of it.
That same afternoon, after walking out of the bathroom, she called my name and I found her in the living room watching one of her favorite talk shows. She muted the TV and while I stood right in front of her, she asked why I took so long in the bathroom. I blushed and mumbled something I knew she couldn't hear. She asked if I had gone in there to masturbate. Blushing even deeper, I nodded my head.
She reminded me that I needn't be embarrassed. And as a matter-of-fact, she would like me to begin announcing my intention to masturbate before I left the room. The concept of telling Samantha that I was going to go masturbate every time I did it was frightening. She would probably think I was a freak if she knew how often I played with myself! I did it a lot!
That evening, as I was getting up to go to bed, I leaned down and kissed her goodnight. I then stood up straight, and with humiliation surging through my body, I told her I was going to masturbate and then go to sleep. She leaned forward, patted my bottom with her large open palm and said, "Good boy. Have fun and don't forget to go potty when you're finished."
The following morning at breakfast, I apologized because I'd masturbated before joining her that morning. She smiled, told me it was okay. And that she was happy I'd been honest with her. She then asked if I'd woken up with a stiffie. I told her I had. She asked if I got naked when I masturbated. I told her I usually just lowered my pants and underpants and pulled my shirt up. She then asked if I would try something new. She asked me to promise I'd get completely naked every time I played with myself. Orgasms are a very special thing and they are made so much better when naked.