Aaron Is My Son

*If the first part of this story seems a little wonky, it's because literotica wouldn't host this story because it included a nonsexual scene with a child in it. I got tired of fighting with them, so I increased the age even though it makes less sense. Just keep that in mind as you read.

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"Aaron is my son."

These are the words I spoke as I held that little baby boy in my arms. I just couldn't believe that I had become a mommy. I was so excited that I could barely contain it. Perhaps, it was because of that excitement that I had neglected to spend as much time with my husband. It started off simple. We didn't have sex after I had the baby for a few months so that I could heal. Then, that baby had grown to the age where he was aware of his surroundings.

One night, my baby Aaron was babbling happily in his crib next to my bed when my husband reached over and started trying to grope me.

"Stop, the baby is watching..." I said.

My husband pulled away, although he looked annoyed. I pulled Aaron out of his crib and fed him instead.

"I love you, Aaron, mommy loves you." I whispered as the baby ate.

Five years passed in an instant...

"Sometimes, I swear you care more about our kid than me!" My husband snapped.

"Aaron is my son." I defended.

"He's my son too, so why don't you let me toughen him up a bit?"

I pulled Aaron away from his father. Aaron was crying. He didn't need his dad right now. He needed me. I held his face tightly into my bossom. It felt right that his hot tears splashed on my chest. It felt right as his mother than I took on all of his pain and discomfort.

As to the instigating event, my husband was trying to play football with Aaron, and in his excitement to get the ball, this oaf of a man overreacted and pushed my precious baby to the ground. Aaron had skinned his knee. My husband didn't plan to do anything about it, but after crying for five minutes straight, I finally heard and came out, only to find my husband yelling at him to shut up and quit being a baby. Naturally, I was furious.

"Never talk to my son like that again." I snarled, still keeping Aaron in my hands. "You can't be violent with him. Why do you have to act so angry?"

"Why? Well, I don't know, Janice, maybe it's because we haven't fucked in two years!" he shouted back.

I covered Aaron's ears, shooting him another glare. "I'm going to my mother's."

"Fine... leave..." He shouted, opening a door and pulling out a beer.

Perhaps, at the time, I should have realized that our relationship was only going to deteriorate. However, I was just too focused on Aaron and his development. I don't blame my husband for everything. I pushed him away. However, I do blame him for that night two years later.

"Aaron, I'm home, work let out earlier today." I spoke up, walking into the door.

Aaron, sixteen now, immediately came running up to me. "Mom!"

I smiled, reaching out and touching his cheek. Aaron lowered his head, rubbing his cheek on my hand intimately.

"Give mommy a hug?" I said, knowing I'd feel relieved if I could just hug him.

"Ah... b-but..." Aaron backed up, suddenly looking scared.

"Hah... Hah... Hah..." It was that point I noticed a faint sound, causing me to frown.

"Wh-where is the babysitter?" I demanded.

"D-dad said to not say anything." Aaron responded defiantly.

If ever Aaron chose to defy me, it was almost always something my husband put into his mind. It would be nice if that man was ever a positive influence on his life. The only thing my husband ever gave my son was a healthy interest in girls. That was only because my husband was a horndog. He often looked at porn on the computer, and he had magazines. Naturally, a curious child-like Aaron looked at the stuff his father enjoyed, and I had caught him with porn under his bed at well. Suffice it to say that my husband and I were long talk.

"Ahhh... ahhh..." As I stormed up the room, the sounds became clearer.

There was a wet slapping sound and what sounded like people moaning. Now, I had already assumed my husband had come home. In my mind, he had sent the babysitter on her way and was "watching" Aaron alone. I just wasn't in the state of mind to think of anything negative. The sounds coming from his room sounded like porn. I was angry, but my anger was that my husband would go home, leave Aaron to fend for himself downstairs, and then watch porn loudly on the television.

However, when I opened the door, it all came crashing home. My husband wasn't watching porn. Rather, there was a naked woman on all fours on my marital bed, and my husband was balls deep inside of her pounding her in a way he hadn't done to me since before Aaron was born. They were completely lost in their sex. His eyes were closed and she was panting like she was one step away from hyperventilating.

As I watched my husband of ten years bang this woman, the only saving grace was that she wasn't the babysitter. It looked like the babysitter went home and my husband then invited her mistress over. However, the mistress was a woman I recognized. She was my neighbor, and she was most definitely married. Both of them still wore their very different wedding rings.

"Ahhn... I love you..." She moaned. "Harder... Harder..."

"Mmm..." He responded immediately, slapping her butt in a lewd way.

For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt. Since they still hadn't noticed me with the door wide open, I let the natural sway of the door swing it closed silently. Then I fell down on my butt, leaning against the door, my back closing it with a light snap that couldn't be heard over the pair of them. I could still hear the sound of their raw sex, but I couldn't bring myself to move from my spot.

"Mother?" The voice caused me to look up.

Even if Aaron couldn't hear the noises from downstairs, he could definitely hear what his father was doing now. "Aaron, this is... your father..."

Aaron looked away shyly. "I know dad is having sex with Mrs. Marker."

I gave a wry smile, looking down. "You shouldn't know these things."

"Dad has... done it before. He said if I be quiet about it, he'll buy me a new porn magazine."

"Oh..." I responded, not even having the energy to be upset that both my teenage boy kept a lie from me like this.

"Why doesn't dad have sex with you?" Aaron asked after a moment of silence.

"..." I didn't really know an answer that was appropriate for my son. "It just didn't happen. We put it off, and then the longer we put it off, the harder it became... and in the end, we just... stopped."

"Did you stop wanting it?"

I shook my head, feeling slightly broken and unable to resist answering his curiosity. "No. You're still young right now, but you're going to find when you're older you'll have many desires."

"Mom, I have had sex talk..." Aaron responded wryly.

"Ah... that..." Mom grew flustered. "But you need to also understand that women have those desires just as much as men, but we're not always willing to admit them. Promise me, something, sweetie."

"Hmm? Yes, mom?"

"If you find a woman you love and you know she loves you in return, take her. Don't let her be stupid and drift away. Every day, show her how much you love her. Force her, if you have to. Always be kind, but never back down from your woman."

"Alright, mom!" He declared, and then he chuckled. "Since dad has made his decision, it'd be easier if I just married you!"

My heart felt a bit relieved that he said that. Instantly, I felt much better. I went from feeling I could rot away at that door being assaulted by the sounds of my husband's transgressions to feeling like I could continue on as long as this boy remained in my life.

"Mother loves you more than anyone," I responded softly, not taking him too seriously.

"But there are laws for these things. When you're 18, then you can pick the woman you love. Okay?"

"I'll definitely make you happy every day!" Aaron declared.

"Aaron..." I reached out and hugged him, holding him tightly against my body. "Aaron is my son. I love you so much. Mommy will always love you."

This seemed to placate both Aaron and myself. We remained hugging in front of the door while the sounds of sex died down. By the time my husband came in Mrs. Marker, I had already left with Aaron and a note on the table demanding a divorce.

If I had known that the words shared between Aaron and I that day would become so deeply ingrained in his psyche, I might have said something different. However, one can never predict the future, and I had no clue what my future had in store.

Of course, I divorced my husband. Although he occasionally took Aaron, his original bargaining chips of porn seemed to no longer sway my son. Aaron had taken my side entirely, and he and dad continued to grow distance until they stopped bother to make appointments to go see each other. By that time, my son was finishing high school.

Aaron started working extra hard to be a good son, always listening to me and doing stuff for me. He managed excellent grades and kept the house clean. He'd often rub my feet when I got home, or comb my hair when I got out of the shower. Suffice it to say, my relationship with my son grew much closer.

I was a single woman in my early thirties, but thanks to my son's loving care, I never really went into the dating scene all that much. The two times I had been set up with a guy, my son took an immediate dislike to them, and I was so enamored as to not side with my son. However, I was happy, at first...

However, around the time he stopped going to dates, I started to notice my son looking at me more and more. At first, I thought it was nothing. Maybe he was just being curious or maybe I had something on my face. Most of the things were small, but they started to add up. For example, he kept a picture of me by his bedside. He asked me for a picture of myself. I was charmed at first and gave him a shoebox full of photos of me and my husband. They ranged from ten years ago to only a year or so.

He selected a photo, and I only found out later when I saw it next to his bedside that he had picked perhaps the most risqué photo of me in the batch. It was a photo from ten years ago. My husband on one of the few nights we still engaged in sex pulled a camera out. I posed exactly one photo for him, wearing my sexy negligee. My shoulders were hunched over and I was showing a large amount of cleavage.

After that, my husband tried to get me to take off the negligee and do naked pictures. I eventually got angry and we went our anniversary without sex. However, that picture somehow got developed and tossed into the shoebox without my awareness. That was the picture that now adorned my child's nightstand. Of course, I wanted to demand it back, but every time I went to his room to do so, I started feeling nervous and shy. Of course, I had nothing to be nervous about, but I felt that way just the same.

There were other oddities. I had found a pair of panties under his bead once and I was pretty certain they were mine. I had once curiously checked his internet history, and found he only looked at one particular kind of porn, MILF. He even frequented MILF boards under the username Motherluver69. I could only give a wry smile and just accept my son's strange tastes.

The last few weeks before he went to college were the worst. He had accidently walked in on me in the shower twice. One of those times, he was naked too, and while I covered myself and looked away quickly, I could have sworn he had an erection. It wasn't like I suspected anything weird. Aaron is my son, after all. I had talked to my friends, and they told me teenage boys were little sex freaks. Stolen underwear, crusty tissues, porn... these were a given. My little Aaron was all grown up. I wasn't angry or repulsed at what I found. Rather, I was a little sad. The boy who had declared his love for me had become a man, and that man was on his way out.

Yes, college came. He packed up all of his stuff and we headed off to the dorm rooms. He was only living about two hours away, but I knew it'd probably be the last time the pair of us lived together. Most boys got a couple of friends and found an apartment by the second year. He'd come home for Christmas and spring break, and then he'd be gone.

I fought the tears as long as I could. I got through registration. I braved through moving all his bags and furniture. Finally, we were standing there, just me and my son. His roommate had taken off to some late-night party. I had a two-hour drive home. I'd be alone on that drive. As I considered it, tears started to fall down my face.

"Hey, hey, hey... mom..." Aaron reached for my face, touching a tear falling down my cheek with the back of his finger.

"I'm sorry, honey..." I couldn't stop crying, tears continued falling as I reached out and touched Aarons face in the same way I used to when he was a child.

"I love you, mother." He said gently.

"I love you too." I said. "Mmmm!"

His lips suddenly pressed against mine. My son kissed me. My eyes widened for just a moment, but it wasn't because I was disgusted or put off. Rather, I was just worried he'd taste my salty tears. I didn't want Aaron kissing me like this. It was embarrassing. However, as his arms wrapped around my waste and he pulled me closer, the taste of his lips and the scent of my Aaron caused me to lose my willpower. I found myself kissing him deeply, our lips parting.

I don't remember whose tongue entered whose mouth first, but soon, the pare of us were kissing with our tongues. As we went, I grew more and more aggressive. This was my son whom I loved. Naturally, with him leaving it'd be the last time I'd be able to kiss him in a while. Thus, it was only right that this kiss be memorable. Our tongues mixed together and I tasted my son, sparks shooting up and down my spine as the feeling of him seemed to melt my brain and reason. My hands grabbed around him, feeling his hard body and muscles. He was much bigger than his father, and he felt safe and comforting. Even my tears stopped coming as I continued to taste him.

"Ahhhn..." My mouth opened with a gasp pulling away from his lips, as he raised his hand and touched my breasts. "Aaron!"

My boobs were tender, having not felt a man's touch in uncountable years. Just being grabbed like that caused fire to burn in my loins that I had long thought died out entirely. I leaned into Aaron, my mind not really understanding what my body was doing. All I knew is that my son felt warm and comfortable, and I wanted to be as close to him as possible.

Just as my hand reached down to grab at parts I shouldn't touch, the door started to creak. I pulled back in an instant. Aaron let go of me, and by the time the door was open, I was two steps away from him, using a handkerchief to wipe my face and lips.

"Hey man, oh, your mom's still here?" The roommate asked, looking between the pair of us.

"Goodbye, my son." I said quick, ducking out of the room without finding myself able to look Aaron in the eye anymore.

I felt terribly embarrassed. Just what were we doing? He was my son, and the pair of us were touching each other like that. I could still feel the pressure of his hand on my breasts. It wasn't until I reached my car that I realized that French kissing him might not have been appropriate for a mother.

"Wh-what am I doing?" I shook my head. "I just... need to find a boyfriend, that's all."

I turned the key and made the two-hour trek home in my car. I started crying around the ten-minute mark, and didn't stop crying until I got to my house. I knew I was just being a silly mother with empty nest syndrome. As far as that kiss I exchanged with my son, I didn't allow myself to think anything of it. Aaron was my son, and there could be nothing that I'd allow change our dynamic.

When I got home, I pulled off my clothing and went to take a shower. Hot water burst forth as I tried to wash the tears from my face. My body felt cold and my mind felt weak. I wanted to collapse right there. My hand went to my lips, taking the feeling of my son's lips pressed against my own. As I thought about our kiss, my hand dropped down. My fingers ran through my patch of fur, which I still kept cleaned up and shaved, even though I long stopped needing to. My fingers found their way to my clit.

"A-Aaron..." The words came out in a stutter like I was unsure if it was appropriate to say them.

My fingers moved in circles around the clit as if they had a mind of their own. The face of my boy flashed in front of me. It was the face of the man whom I had to let go of today, but also the face of him as a teenager, a child, a toddler, a baby. They were all my baby, my Aaron.

"Nha... haa..." I moaned, my lips quivering as my knees buckled slightly, however, the pleasure seemed to defeat the pain in my heart, so my fingers moved even faster. "Aaron..."

Pleasure shot through my body as my hand worked. Of course, I've masturbated before, but it's been a very long time since I last indulged. My fingers seemed to remember the potions, diving into my honeypot and instantly finding the spots that aroused me the most. Soon, I had two fingers inside me, while my thumb continued to rub my clit hard. I needed it hard. My pussy ached, and the hot water of the tub gave a numbing effect. So, I rubbed it harder and harder.

"Haaa... Haaa... fuck... hah... Aaron... I love you." I moaned loudly, my fingers moving faster and faster.

Had the shower not been running, the lewd sounds of my fingers pushing in and out of my throbbing, moist clit would surely have echoed in the little bathroom. They were sounds that I could have never produced while Aaron still lived there. My free hand grabbed my chest, and I squeezed my nipple, imagining that it was my son biting it. What was wrong with me? I didn't care, it felt too wonderful.

For the first time since before my son was born, I became completely uninhibited. I fingered myself, no, it'd be more accurate to say I fucked my fingers. Aaron's face didn't fade away into fantasy. Actually, quite the opposite, his face grew clearer and clearer in my mind, and the clearer his face got, the closer I grew to orgasm.

My hand left my nipple, slapping against the cold wall of the shower. I did this because if I didn't, I couldn't remain standing. I gasped in breaths as the hot water ran down my chest and hair. I always liked my water hot, almost boiling. My skin was practically red from the heat, but I still felt hotter on the inside where my fingers worked. They stopped going in and out, instead, finding just that perfect spot and flicking rapidly inside of me.

"AAaaannn... shit... shit... I can't... Aaron... Aaron... I want you inside me. Inside me baby..." I moaned, my head now falling and pushing against the wall, trying to keep me up as my knees threatened to buckle any second under my intense machinations.

My body exploded on fire, erotic sensations shooting through my body like a shotgun blast. Despite my attempts to keep my legs spread, my body would no longer listen. My thighs clamped together around my wrist, tightening almost to the point of pain. However, I continued to move my fingers, wiggling them against that perfect spot faster and faster until they might have looked like a blur inside my pussy.

"Haaaaaannnn... Aaaaaaarroooooon." I finally lost all remaining control as my body clamped down hard.

I almost fell to my knees, only just managing to recover a moment before I collapsed in the shower. As I straightened back up, pulling my slick fingers full of lust out of my wet cunt, another wave of euphoria spasmed through me. I had to grip the wall as waves and waves of aftereffects shot through my body. I continued to gasp, trying to regain my feet event as my climaxing cunt threatened to unbalance me. Had there not been a shower, I likely would have wet the floor under me, as gobs of wet stuff burst force from my pussy with each orgasm. Finally, ever so slowly, the tremors became less and less intense.