Consanguine Concupiscence Counseling

CONSANGUINE CONCUPISCENCE COUNSELING

NEW FANTASY: A mom and son in therapy, is incest insanity?

NOTE: Some things besides babies are still-born. Some compositions to be posted on Literotica are not published - because they violate the rules of Literotica, even if reality is not so restrictive. These narratives are still porn but stillporn, i.e. dead on arrival, and will never be read by those who seek stories of unlicensed lasciviousness. This tale used to be one of them.

The Psychiatrist from "The Mommy Dreams Case File" has two new patients.

The Dr. answered the door, to the couple that had answered his advertisement. There before him, stood a handsome pair. Both had thick dark hair and heavy eyebrows, offset by a pale skin and striking blue eyes made clear their genetic connection. Mother and son, they had come to seek his counseling, to explore in therapy the dynamics of their relationship. They were having troubles, issues, stresses; all stemming from incestuous tensions.

He had become something of an expert in the field of mother/son sex. This was due to his first client/patient, whom he had treated in this area. That person had provided both the monetary means, and the impetus of his interest in the subject. But while he did not need to be paid for his services, now being fabulously wealthy, he did want to have subjects to work with. Where do you find such?

He had hit upon the notion of making contact with potential prospects, through websites where there were people interested in sharing of their true incest experiences. The two who now entered, were brought to him that way. He had chosen them after much winnowing of chaff, as real and actual persons who were truly in need of his counseling. In fact, they did not claim to have engaged in incest, but rather, that the desire of the son for the mother was creating a serious disruption in their lives.

"Barbara, James, please come in and make yourselves comfortable." The two entered and significantly took the opposing ends of the couch that were opposite the psychiatrist easy chair in the wood paneled office. The other items were a broad couch, and a single leather desk chair. No desk, that was in another office. There was a large, flat screen TV and several tables for refreshments and tissue boxes were handy. Also, a refrigerator and several appliances in a nook for food preparations, if needed.

"Now, as I understand, from our initial correspondence by email, the two of you are having issues of sexual tensions, between you?"

"First," Barbara spoke, "I want to understand what this costs, up front."

"Right," the Dr. nodded. "Nothing. I am privately funded. All services, along with any other expenses, are entirely free."

"Everything is strictly confidential, nothing goes past these walls?" She was intensely looking at the psychiatrist.

"Completely confidential, between us three, but I do record for my notes and study purposes. But I am the only one who hears or sees anything of that nature."

"Okay, I read your proposal, but I wanted to double check. I had . . a bad incident with private things becoming public, once before."

"That won't happen here, I can assure you. Now tell me -- either James, or Barbara. Why are you here? I know what your wrote, but it is best that you state it out loud now. To begin our sessions."

"My son wants to have sex with me."

"Okay, that seemed to be part of what you indicated. But there is stress in the relationship, because of this. Right?"

"It's not proper, for him to have those feelings, and make me so uncomfortable."

"It might not be proper behavior, but it is not so uncommon a desire. All boys go through an oedipal stage in their development. A small percentage, do not have that stage maturely passed. Or some revert to it, for some reason, later in life; typically in their early twenties."

"He's had the hots for me since he was eighteen. That's going on for five years, now." Barbara was clearly frustrated, from the sound of her tones.

"Is that true, James?"

"Call me Jim. Yeah, I guess." Not very talkative yet.

"Has there been any counseling before you contacted me?"

"No, it's embarrassing, and there was no need to before. But lately he has . . been acting . . been actively pursuing his campaign to get me to allow him to -- do what he wants."

"Why is that, Jim?"

"Because she is sending signals that she wants it. She

wants

me to seduce her."

"I don't, that would be incest, sinful. A rotten thing for a mother to do to her son. I don't want to make love with you! You're my boy, how could I think such nasty thoughts? If I did, then I ought to go to Hell, and be tortured!"

The Dr. studied the woman for a long moment. It was a rather strong statement, and she was quite vehement, but her words indicated a reaction to more than Jim's words. What was behind her outburst? Jim calmly sat there, and had made a rather of fact statement, without much emotionality. "Jim what sorts of things does your mother do, which seem to be signals you are interpreting as desire on her part, to couple with you?"

"Well, she is always walking about the house in her underwear."

"I understand that might be provocative possibly, but many folks are casual in their own homes, about their state of undress. It doesn't necessarily have any sexual meaning, attached to their relaxed dress codes. Is this something that is new?"

"No, but there is something different, lately. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just know."

"You better not lay even a finger on me, young man! Or you will suffer the consequences!"

Again a strong over-reaction. But something seemed to strike a chord of memory. "Barbara, do I perhaps . ."

"Just Barb, will do."

"Okay, Barb, how do you seem in some way familiar to me? Have we met, perhaps sometime and somewhere else before?"

"Uh . . . I am an actress, maybe you saw the show I was in." She looked uncomfortable for some reason.

"Perhaps, what was it I might have seen?"

"Mom was in . ."

"James! Let me tell." Again, agitation, "I was in a soap-opera for a few years. 'Candlewood By Moonlight', it was a cable production."

"Oh, okay, that doesn't ring a bell, but perhaps I caught an episode or two somehow and just don't have a memory about it. Was there anything else I might have seen?"

"Unlikely, that was my biggest part up to now."

"Let's move on to Jim's behavior. What has he done, that makes you so uncomfortable. Jim, you'll get a turn to talk in a little while, but let your mother answer the questions for now. Barb, what does your son do, that upsets you?"

"Well, to begin with, he always has a hard-on around me. And he wears just his jockeys, you can clearly see the long hard muscle underneath, and that he has a big set of balls. His stomach is flat, and his buns are tight. And he's in great shape, handsome and sexy. He definitely is flaunting it in front of me, being tempting, and it's obvious that he wants to lay me on my bed, and ravage me until . . ." She broke off. "Uh . . I mean, he is rather bold in his appearance, whenever I am around."

She was providing too much information. Speaking more about her own feelings, and impressions,

and

desires, than just about what Jim was showing as beefcake. "What if you both agreed to dress more like you were in public, than private, would that begin to help?"

"No, I still would know he wanted to get into my pants."

"Jim?"

"No, because I still think she would like me to seduce her." Impasse.

"Is there anything that I should know about, that happened in the past that has a direct bearing on all this stress? Something that is making for your conflict?" They look at each other, bingo! An educated guess, but something was indicated in the emails about an earlier incident.

"Mom, I'll tell, okay?' Barbara looked doubtful, but nodded her acquiescence. "I tried to rape my mother once."

"That's not quite right; it wasn't rape, like he was forcing me against my will. Rather he tried to take advantage of me while I was asleep . ."

"You were drunk and mostly unconscious."

"Yes, but I knew enough of what you were doing, and I finally put an end to it."

"But, you let me get on to you, and start to put it in . ."

"Slow down you two, and one at a time. Barb, you agreed to let Jim share now, so let's let him talk. Jim?"

"Okay, one time, when I was eighteen, mom was drunk and she went to sleep on her bed, passed out really. But she was naked, like in . . . well she was nude, and I sort of thought that it was just like. . uh . . a . . fantasy of mine. So I got naked too, and went into to her bedroom. I got on the bed and climbed on top of her. I sucked her nipples and fingered her pussy to make sure she was wet. I asked if she wanted me to screw her and she said yes, so I started to put it in. But then she became fully awake and said 'NO! NO!, I mustn't let you. Don't!' And pushed me off. I ran out of there sure I was going to catch hell for trying to have sex with her."

"And did you?"

"No, she just said we couldn't do that, no matter what we wanted. Just to forget it ever happened, and not to try it again. Since that night she doesn't drink that much anymore. I haven't done anything like that again, but I still wish we had gone all the way, and I hope that she will change her mind eventually. I think she is having second thoughts, and I think she does want to have sex with me."

"Barb, is that what happened?"

"Yes, that's the full story." The Doctor wondered if it quite was, there was something going on under the surface with her. The son was bold enough to try that ploy for some reason. It wasn't just out of the blue. "Barb, is Jim reporting your words, accurately?

"Pretty much."

"And you have stopped drinking now?"

"That convinced me I had to get a handle on the problem. I drink very little now. And I lost weight since, so that's was a good thing. In fact, that got me the part on 'Candlewood'."

"What part did you play, if I rent the DVD?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. It was a small role."

"No it wasn't mom, tell him the truth! She was on every day, Doc. People looked forward to her appearances."

"I guess I was popular, but I was only on for three years. I don't work there anymore."

"What happened? Did they kill your character off?"

Jim spoke, "The script writers sent her to jail for sex with a minor, ironic wouldn't you say?"

"Ironic, how Jim?'

"Uh . . never mind."

"Ironic that my son wants to have sex with me."

"But he is an adult."

"He wasn't when he began to have those feelings for me, he was eighteen."

"You mentioned that age before, how do you know, did Jim tell you?"

"No, I caught him masturbating."

"Just masturbating?"

"To . . a video of me."

"Video?"

"Of me, I was naked . . . and . . . doing things."

"Having sex . .?"

Jim jumped in, "Having sex with a younger man, that's part of the irony."

"Did this video, have anything to do with your being written off the show? You said (the shrink checked his notes) something that was private, was made public and embarrassed you."

"Yes, but the guy was just young looking, he was of legal age, over twenty-one."

"He looked like me!"

"Like you, Jim? Is that why you think your mother might be interested in sex with her son, because of this young-looking fellow, resembled you?"

"Not just that, but it was part of the reason I got on mom, that night in her bed, when she was drunk."

"Well, there is more I think, that you are not telling me yet. But that can wait for now, as our session is nearly up, and I want to have some time to instruct you on homework. For you both. But I

have

concluded, I will have you as patients, if you will have me as your therapist. Okay?" They both nodded solemnly, but then wry smiles broke on each face.

"I will give you each a video camera, they are on loan. I want you to film the other, when they are behaving in a way that you feel contributes to the issues, creates the tensions that are in play with your relationship. The rule is, you only can tape what you would see, in any case. No going into mom's room, while she is changing, to catch her in the altogether."

"Unless, I do that usually?"

"Yes, but you don't do you?"

"No. but she does run around in her scanties, so I will get some shots of that."

"What do we do with the tapes, Dr.?"

"Bring them back next week to our appointment, and we will review them. Plan to spend at least two hours next time. Then we shall see how best to proceed."

. . . . .

They left. The shrink had a lot of research to do in just seven days. He made some calls. By the time Barb and Jim returned, the Dr. knew a lot more, and had seen the highlights and low points of Barbara's career. He had also spent a great deal of money for recording operations in the counseling room. Not obvious ones, hidden cameras, and sound microphones place strategically throughout the whole area.

All feeding to sophisticated recording equipment, in another room. Continuous recording during a session captured everything that happened in digital format. It was clear to him this was going to be extremely useful, as well as quite interesting; indeed, it feed the prurient personal fascination he had developed in the subject matter. But the clients need not necessarily know any of that at this point, if ever, he thought.

When they were all seated again, as usual the clients had chosen the same places as they had been in before. The psychologist asked, "Whose video do we see first?"

"Mom's" Immediately replied Jim. Barbara shrugged and handed over her camera. The Dr. plugged the connections to it, and turned the big screen on, then the play button. Jim loomed and filled the screen. There were some shots of his traipsing around the home with just his skivvies on. There were a few candid shots, of his looking at the camera, in a way that would have best been called lustful.

But of course, it was his mother he was perusing. There was a startling shot of his bedroom door being open, and he masturbated, calling out his mother's name, as he climaxed. It was obviously taken with Barbara standing in the hall. Then, it switched to Jim being in Barb's bedroom, filming her. At this point, Doc put the video on pause.

"What is that last thing we were watching? You two were filming each other, filming?"

"Yes," said Barb, "I was doing that to show his, well to make it clear that he had invaded my space, and that I wasn't the only one who . . I don't know -- it seemed like the way to have my point of view represented, at that moment."

"Jim, why were you jerking off with your door open?"

"Passionate aggressive tactic?"

"If you mean '

passive

aggressive', that wasn't it. That was aggressive alright, and yes, passionate; but not at all passive. More like showing off, and attempting to be tempting to your parent. Not a nice thing to do."

"Yeah, well she replayed that part three times, since she filmed it!"

"Damn it, James, don't I get any privacy?"

"Mom, that is the problem with you, you don't understand the difference between privacy and honesty! This is the time to be honest, with our therapist. There is a time to be honest with ourselves, and sometimes we need to be honest with each other, or else things get fucked up even worse. That's why we are here in the first place." He turned to the Dr. and addressed him. "Why don't we watch mine for a little while?" So the cameras were switched, and there was Barb.

She was in her underwear, around the house and her body language said she knew she was being filmed, and liked it. She played to the camera, without looking directly at it. She was an actress, so this was something she was practiced at, but evident when you knew what to look for. The Doctor had observed this manner of hers, in watching hours of the broadcasts of the soap-opera's DVDs he had gotten hold of, and other material too.

Soon, though, the scene in her bedroom started. The same one as had been on her tape, but beginning earlier, and from Jim's perspective. Barb was in her bra and panties, sitting on the bed. Jim walks in, the camera is already rolling. Jim's voice is heard.

"So when are you going to tell him?"

Barb looks innocent, and guilty, at the same time. "Tell who, what?"

"Tell the shrink about your previous career, and that's why you were written off the show. Why it was ironic what they did. How they made the plot twist 'fit the crime' so to speak, when you were canned. What that really had to do with what happened that night I got on your bed. All of it. It does no good to hold back that information. It only hampers him from helping us."

"Maybe we don't need to go to a therapist."

"Will you fuck me then?"

"NO!"

"Then we need to see our shrink."

"So you can get to fuck me?"

"No, so that either you or I, or better both of us, get over our incestuous desires. Or give into them. In which case, the answer to your questions is then, yes."

So James was the more forthright, and open of the pair, thought the Doctor, it made sense. He had not been initially provoked from her cable soap role. But he had been affected, by the previous role she had been in. The Doctor's private investigator had been thorough. The details, and the film and tapes, were now part of the Doc's private files, and an important segment of the materials he was gathering, about his clients / subjects.

James' video continued to play. "Come on mom, look right at the camera, and tell the good Dr. what it's all about. It's easier to talk to the camera, than him face to face, isn't it? So tell the truth, now." Barbara turned to the lens, and turned to telling the tale of her acting career. She let the truth out and the doctor into her secret life.

As she spoke, the psychiatrist remembered the tapes and films he had viewed the past week. One in particular stood out, as being relevant. But it wasn't from the television show.

PORNO MOVIE SCENE: The mother was drunk. She was a good looking woman with thick dark hair, and pale skin. Thick eyebrows, but the eyes were closed. The door to her bedroom was open. She was lying on her bed nude. A youth, resembling her, knocked on the open door. Called, 'Mom?' but got no reply from the unconscious woman. He walked in to the room.

There was an empty liquor bottle and a glass half full of an amber liquid on the table next to the bed. Clearly, she had been drinking, and passed out. The young man looked at her middle age body, still attractive, legs akimbo, breasts with small brown nipples. He called out softly, as if afraid to wake her, but to check to see if she was at all aware of anything. She stirred but did not awake. He rubbed his crotch.

The 'son', or rather the actor in that role, sat on the bed, next to actress in the 'mother' part. He hesitated, then reached out and gently touched the woman's small but pert tits. He grew bolder and began to grasp them and to pluck at the nipples, which grew erect. The youth undid his belt, button and zipper, so that he was able to fist his member, as he bent, and sucked on the exposed bosom. He placed a hand down on her pubic hair.

The lady did not react to any of this, she was still 'unconscious'. The 'son' discovered the slit of his 'mother', and began to rub his middle finger on that slot. With no waking, or resistance from the female, the youngster quickly divested his clothing, and lay next to her. Then played with himself, and he orally explored her body, from mammeries to bush. He spread her legs, and inserted the middle finger into the damp vagina. The digit went in and out, several times.

His mouth made a meaningful munching on her clitoris. She was spreading her legs even more now, her eyes continued to be shut, but her mouth parted, and she uttered a little moan. The son maneuvered himself, so that he could kiss her lips, and guide his cock to her pussy. He said, "I love you mommy" and pushed in, entering her with his hard-on. Her legs had gone wide, to accommodate his slender hips that moved, to send him into her repeatedly.