A Case for Sexual Love in Family

Please take off your sunglasses. This is a dark story. It has elements of anger, rage, and nonconsensual.

All characters over 18 of course

I am not a peculiar woman so know that about me first. I would fit right smack dab into your circle of friends because I am no different than you are so please see this as a confession as I begin to tell my story. I hope you do not judge me.

You also need to know something else about me; that I support sexual love between family members and believe that you should as well. Perhaps this is an opinion with which you disagree, but I do not see any reason that sexual love between family members should be frowned upon. Bottom line is simple. Sexual love within families is coming and it is going to change everything. Just during this lockdown alone, do you have any idea how many boundaries were crossed? How many bedroom doors were slipped into deep in the night? Can you imagine the pleasure that has been taken? Can you fathom the sexual connections that were created? Too many questions, I know. People are crawling the walls with all types of lust and need to be satisfied.

Fail to agree with me? I urge you to consider that being gay is OK. Being Transgender is OK. Being Pansexual is OK. Being anything is OK. Sexual love between family members is next.

It is of course bit more complex than the above mentioned. Family love, and now that I write this, I come to the realization that it is more than family love. Let's be honest here if we are to discuss this. It is family lust. It is an undeniable craving for the physical aspect of love that is no longer bearable. I can't convince you here and now, but do you have any idea of the depth of desperation one must feel in this puritanical society before they slip quietly into the bedroom of another?

Let's look at a family such as mine. I have two sons and a daughter. My oldest son Is Brian, and he is 25. Then Stephen is 23 and Jennifer is 20. I have been with both sons sexually but not at the same time. For the sake of clarity, one minor point I need to make is that I did spend time with each as the other watched only one time. I did this to demonstrate how a man cums with a woman and what is it like for a woman to orgasm with a man.

I told you all of this without even telling you who I am. I am Anne and I am 48. I'm defined by my sexual need and have lustful thoughts that drift into my head on and off, all day long. Few are based upon simple physical attraction. To look at a man with a nice ass is wonderful but my thoughts have more depth. My thinking is more of a mother and son who are just a few weeks away from sharing sexual love together as they use these days to consult with their therapist. Most of my thoughts are an ongoing fantasy; a dialogue of perverse feelings that play out in my head. Seeing as we are talking, I will confess that most of the thoughts I posess are quite not exactly vanilla.

I have been many things in my life. A nurse by training, and even worked in a men's prison for two years. I later became a pastry chef and when my back began to bother me, I studied to become a therapist and have been doing that for almost five years. I have short blonde hair, cry when I hear Bocelli and have been so desperate sexually, that I have masturbated while driving to Gaithersburg on a burning hot July Sunday. I remember pulling over afterwards and simply weeping at the sadness of a woman driving a jeep who is so desperately in need, that she has to cum by her own hand while driving.

Worse yet, the relief derived from a cum like that is good, but it is serviceable at best and can only satisfy for a short time. Even worse, I am the oldest of four sisters who were taught from a very early age that you never, ever, masturbate. My mother was a kind woman who loved us and cared for our needs but from a religious perspective, was hell on masturbation. I remember her washing me constantly. I can't tell you how many times she told me that a woman is here to be a partner to man and to give birth. Then to do it again. That a woman was here to lie back and absorb the lust and the passion of a husband. They were, as she put it, "not on this earth to lie on their back and frig themselves." She looked at me. I was frightened by her. I smelled something and it made me tingle. It caught me off guard. She smiled at me and her eyes seemed to glaze over a bit. I had not seen that before in her. It was lust of course, but I did not have a name for it at the time. I found her to be so much more than beautiful, and I felt an attraction to her that was hard to explain. What was happening to me?

She was an older mother but an elegant one. She lived in a Victorian just outside of San Francisco that came from some inheritance money after my father died. I was there for the summer as college was out until the fall. She was elegant. She wore very expensive clothing and the most amazing lingerie. Things I could never afford to buy. She had her hair up and back in a way that was elegant. She wore a burgundy robe that was open at the top.

"Get down on your knees sweetie."

Time stopped. I was so traumatized, so absolutely shocked by her words, that I did just that. I sat in front of her and did not move. She looked at me for a long few second.

"Stay," she said.

She got up from the chair and slowly went to an old yet comfortable chaise lounge my father used to use it back in the day. She walked so slowly, so calmly as my eyes took in every curve and angle of her body.

"Put your ass high and walk to me on all fours. Do it slow."

I crawled to her as in a trance. I briefly thought of refusing but it seemed almost beyond my capability. I was a nineteen-year-old and I was simply doing as ordered. I walked to her. In reality, I crawled to her, ass end high. I never did anything even remotely like this. I felt like trash. I also felt sexual. She needed something from me. She bent to kiss me. Her aroma was going into by body. Into my nose and my mouth. Into the pores of my skin. She gently rubbed my head and carefully opened the four-button red skirt she wore.

"I am having a moment," she said. Her face grew stony, as the color left her cheeks. "This is not to be discussed with anyone. Ever." Having said that, she gently pulled my head to her warm soft middle. She took my hand and helped me to find her clit. I never touched another woman's clit before. She jumped when I made contact. It seemed so hard. So angry and in need to relief. I sat between her thighs and she pulled my head to what was an amazing level of wetness. I love the look in her eye as she pulls me in because I understand the feeling. When you are a woman and you are literally seconds away from someone licking you, you just get a certain look. I saw that look in her eyes. I licked her in a way that was so tentative as first, but I continued and found a rhythm. I flicked my tongue across the clit she had so lovingly helped me to discover. It did not take long. Perhaps four or five minutes at most. She was silent until the last minute or so when she let out a deep grunt and shuddered as she shook gently. She held me there for quite a while as she gently stroked my hair. "Anne, listen to me. There is nothing to be ashamed of when you give relief to a family member. We are all adults here. You have no idea how many times I have had your brother do that to me." I remember just looking at her.

Life is so different for me now. I live a life that appears normal but behind closed doors, I will not ignore my essential needs and I try to see that others in my family deal with theirs as well. Like my mother, I too have personally found occasions to slip into bedrooms in the late of the night, closed the door gently and did what was required to handle the sexual needs of one of my sons. I see this as a responsibility, and I might be right because I can sense if one of my sons is in need. I can tell who needs a warm hand or a loving mouth. I can even sense it over the dinner table. Herein lies the power.

The ability to reward or to punish. I can help that son or deny him. Can you imagine the rewards of utilizing physical pleasure to control behavior? You might object and I do understand that but please consider this. It is a deeply loving time spent together that results in a bliss that is so unspeakably intense for the son, that I literally rock them in my arms after their pleasure until they sleep. As a point of fact, I have not done this with my daughter and will discuss later.

Nine days after Brian's 18th birthday, his father and I sat him down for a conversation. I wanted to have this conversation with him a few days sooner, but his father and I were unable agree on how to move forward. After much talk, we decided that I will take him to my bed that very night. He wanted to wait but I saw no reason to do so. I still don't.

I see this as an extension of parenting and raising a child. Any parent of an eighteen-year-old or nineteen-year-old knows that their son is not yet an adult despite what anyone might think. This is a dangerous period of time, from about eighteen until about twenty-three or so. They are finding their way in a world they do not understand. Anything can happen and often does.

Let me tell you what I think. The first eighteen years are a type of maturation. After that, physical attraction and affection manifests itself as the lust that comes from a relationship finally turning physical. This normal expression of love is a natural outgrowth and extension of the mother-son relationship. The expression of sexual love, even in a repressed society such as ours, is a very sympathetic and healing force. I see it as a power. I sit with it for a while and wonder what I can do to exploit this amazing power.

Then it comes to me. I can use this to guide my boys. Pleasure for good and suffering for bad. Sexual love can be so many things to so many people. I see it as a very intimate exchange. A currency that is physical. It can be a gift to a son for any reason, or none. It can be a promise implied, or a deal cut. Thick as thieves. A mom who understands what a wink really means. A son who appreciates the delights and passions of being with a mother who will give of herself to help him to cope with his lust. A mother to close the door and use her loving ways to bring about pleasure and closeness.

I urge you to see this argument for family lust as just a glimpse into how things are changing in this world. Want to have sex with your over eighteen son and not break the law? Do it in New Jersey and Rhode Island. It is legal there. As for your son or daughter, what will you do to control and guide them? They are legally adults, really now, what can you use to control them? What is the leverage? Some money? Threats of being grounded? Of course not.

I believe that sexual love is as strong a tool as one will ever find. Is there any good reason whatsoever, not to promise oral sex for work done around the house? A good grade? Help with groceries. The reward is just so perfect. It is so very intimate, so loving in a way that demonstrates the ultimate kindness. It requires nothing except a desire to, for whatever reason, please one of them, to take a son or daughter to heaven. The examples are endless. A mother taking her son in her mouth because he drove her to a Black Friday event and waited outside for two hours. What a direct and loving gift to give a young man of whom you are proud. The effect is instant.

I spoke with a woman who is a part of the local S & M community about a week ago gently floated my theory of family love to her. I chose her because I suspected she was involved with her son just about a month ago. I wish I could tell you why I knew she was involved but it is hard to explain. It came to me the second time I saw them together. The way she looked at him when she thought there was no one around. As for me, I was just off and out of sight to the side of the vestibule. She looked at him with a sense of ownership. Right there, I realized that she was a member of the club. Her eyes bulged just a bit. It looked like she was going to jump on him right that second.

We spoke. I took a big chance and was honest with her about my beliefs, my life. She told me that this was something she does on a regular basis. It is just her and her son at home. She told me that they live as a husband and wife live. Matter of fact, when we spoke, she told me that she was so pleased with her other son's mid-term grades in his freshman year of college, that when she picked him up at school, she took him right there in the car. Just went right down on him there and then. She told me that he was under strict no masturbation rules for fourteen days. She laughed. "He blew his load almost instantly," she said. I have never seen that much cum in my life. She looked at me and laughed.

I can assure you that this is only the tip of the iceberg as it relates to the possibilities of sexual love as a tool to reinforce behavior and create real and meaningful sexual encounters. We also need to understand that this is going on endlessly, right this very second, in the homes of the people no one would ever suspect in a million years. I personally know, of eleven relationships. Six out of the eleven, are mother and son. The pull is simply too hard for many to resist. It was for me and it is just as hard for so many others. Why so many mothers and sons? Although endless variations, here is a very typical story. Do you ever look at your son when the towel clings after a shower? Ever wonder what that might be like sexually? Bottom line is that family love takes place because three critical conditions are at play. Need, trust and opportunity. It is the very slippery intersection.

When the kids go to college and parents are empty nesters, things change. Cracks appear in the foundation of their marriage. Careers, pressures and money cause the parents to split. The woman, in almost all cases, suffers more than her ex-husband. Things rapidly deteriorate and especially for the mother who is now alone. Father is gone to the wind and is probably remarried under another name. With no cash forthcoming, she tries to have a few dates with men who are mediocre at best. Some are worse. She struggles like this for fifteen months and then her son comes home after college. She is broke. She looks awful. Too thin. Haggard and listless. She is plagued with guilt over the breakup, battles depression and is still alone. He is almost twenty-three and he is going to stay until he finds a job.

They have a quiet dinner on the floor near the fireplace and after the bottle of wine has been winnowed down to nothing. Then they they have another. He makes her laugh. Really, she sees him as absolutely hilarious and loves his college stories. She has not laughed this hard in forever and it feels like being a teenager all over again. It has been so long since someone curled her toes like this. Really now, how hard is it for a young man to put a woman such as her on her back. So, on their very first night together, he does just that. Before she enters her, she used the fingers on her left hand to slide a condom on as she is still fertile.

Please know this is not just talk or nonsense. Of the couples I mentioned whom I know personally, I have known them all for almost fourteen years. I can tell you that in four of the six cases, sexual contact took place within the first day of being together and that alcohol was involved in every single interaction between mother and son time that was sexual.

One woman told me she was afraid for her daughter. I told her to sleep with her son and drain him; to keep him satisfied and calm for the next week. She did just that and she orgasmed as well. Actually, the most amazing part of this conversation was at the end. It was hearing that all six mothers reported achieving orgasm. Surely, they are not suffering as much as one might think.

Perhaps, this is because regardless of whom we are and whatever our relationship might be to one another, we all seek out sexual satisfaction. Most will do just anything to get it and some will do some very bad things in its name. Many times has a woman but used for the sexual needs of a son. I believe that this is the road many mothers have traveled yet few will overcome the shame of the incident enough to talk about it. Us this abuse? Who is willing to bring charges against a son who has taken her against her will? Very few, so why not use this unchanging need, this never-ending lust, as a tool for good as opposed to one for bad.

My own sexual experience with Brian came late that night. I was kind with him although not overly generous sexually. This was a first for the both of us and I needed to protect myself from what are in reality his unbridled passions. I sat him down and told him what was to happen, asked him to empty his bladder and he did. Upon returning I was able to see that he was almost hard. I was also able to see that he was far more muscular than I remembered. I will admit this to you but no one else; I was frightened. He is one big boy, and I was unsure of how to proceed. We laid next to each other side by side and he was shaking with excitement.

"It's OK sweetie, "I said to him as I realized that I needed to make the first move, but I needed him to enter me.

"Can you kiss me," I said. "Sweetie, please kiss me."

He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, and I felt the tip of his tongue enter my mouth. I pulled him on top of me, pulled my knees back and apart and slowly felt the tip of his cock begin to enter me. He was so hard. My initial thinking was to have him wear a condom but after further thought, I changed my mind. I was on birth control and I knew for a fact that giving him pleasure will be compromised by the sad reality of a condom. In fact, the more I think about it, the more opposed I am to the use of a condom between mother and son. It is a barrier. I come from a family that shared very similar values. I remember well the time I spent with my brother.

"Push into me gently sweetie. No, push, push all the way." He did. The groan that came out of him was something I will remember till the day I die. This was his moment to begin to express his love for me and he did just that. We spoke just a few words between us as we adjusted to this moment of heavenly joy. To hear his voice through the passion was so bonding.

"Easy baby I said. "Slow, slow, just push up on your elbows a little, a little."

"Move with me sweetie, move with me easy."

"Go slow and enjoy me. Yes, I said after a half gulp of air. "Yes."

We moved gently for what seemed like the longest of times. His eyes were closed but I was looking at him. He was a wonderful specimen of a man. He was muscled and when I looked at where we are joined, I realize that by any standard, he is gorgeous. I put my arms around this son of mine for the first time and never felt closer to another man. At that moment, I am in love with him and I have not felt that for a very long time. I spread out my fingers on his back gently and feel him begin to move more quickly. I rub his back tenderly as his body begins to gently heave and I feel the storm coming.

"It's OK sweetie. Enjoy. Enjoy," I said as I began to hold him more tightly.

His body lurches without warning and he goes stiff. He is in a wonderful place and the pleasure he feels is deeply intense. Suffice to say, he just loses it.

He shudders and presses into me so hard. His grunt is so very sweet. So very needy. What a lovely orgasm. He was so caring. He was a gentleman if such a term like that even applies today. I am still his mother, but we have deeply expanded our reality together. He looks at me and kisses me. I am, and if you knew me, would would not believe I would ever say this about anyone, but I am in love with this most amazing young man.