Thank you for reading, please rate and feedback is always welcome. Reminder, all characters and locations are fictional, and everyone is 18 years of age or older at the time any sexual encounters occur.
This is the first of a five-part series that has been written and will be released every couple of weeks.
Session 1 - Mother and Son
"Doctor Charles will see you now," said the receptionist.
My mother, Diane, and I stand up and head for the open door to the right of the receptionists desk. I have been seeing Doctor Charles for exactly a year now, as my parents brought me on my eighteenth birthday, last year. Today is my nineteenth birthday, and I was hoping that after two therapy sessions a month for the last year, I might be able to celebrate my birthday by not having to go to therapy.
My mother disagreed and gave me some lame excuse about Doctor Charles being someone that you don't cancel on. My parents have been seeing Doctor Charles since well before I was born. I think they went while my sister and I were in school, so they were home when we got home. However, part of my birthday present last year was an appointment for these therapy sessions.
To be fair, my sister has also been seeing Doctor Charles for the last three years as well. The way she says what happened, she was also given therapy sessions as a birthday gift for her eighteenth birthday. In her last year of high school, she would get pulled out of class early to attend the sessions. Now that she is in college, she can schedule her therapy sessions around her class schedule.
Today it is just my mother that is tagging along with me to my therapy session. Other times, it has been the entire family. There was even one session where just my sister and I attended without my parents, which just happened to be on her most recent birthday just a couple of months ago.
We followed the nursing assistant down the hall. We walked past room one, where my first therapy session happened. We continue past room four, where we usually stop when we are all together as a family. It is not until we reach nearly the end of the hall that the nursing assistant opens the door to room nine.
My mother walks into the room first, "Charlene, so good to see you again."
I don't know how many sessions I will have to endure through before I feel I am comfortable enough to call Doctor Charles by her first name. As I enter the room, I seem to always glance at her certificates on the wall. Charlene Charles, PhD written in that fancy script never quite seems to fully impress me. My parents say I am improving, but I am not sure I share that same sentiment.
My mother takes a seat on the couch, even though it's a therapy office and on TV they always show the patient as the one that reclines on the couch, which happens to be me. Instead, I take a seat in the open chair, as I don't want to sit on the couch next to my mother. Doctor Charles stays seated in her comfortable chair that is facing both of us. Over her shoulder is a video camera.
"Diane and Brian, good to see you again," Doctor Charles starts with, which is the same way she has started every other session I remember.
She continues, "Just a reminder that you signed off on having your sessions recorded."
We both nodded to acknowledge the presence of the camera in the room.
"Brian," she continues without really pausing for our answer to the last question. "Have you been able to find a girlfriend since our last session?"
I squirm with the question as I feel a little embarrassed since I am sitting in front of my mother, "I have not had the time."
"Do you still have that deep down fear of rejection holding you back?" asked Doctor Charles.
It didn't seem like I had a fear of rejection, but as soon as the question was asked, I felt something inside me that I recognized as just that. "Yes," escaped my mouth before I really could control my response.
"Then it is good that you are here for therapy," Doctor Charles said. "Do you agree to be truthful and forthcoming with your answers today, Brian?"
"Always," I respond.
"Great," she said, "Watermelon Wrestling!"
Not sure what comes over us, but I see my mother stand up, with a blank look on her face. I also stand up, unable to stop the movement of my body. I watch my mother start to unbutton her blouse, revealing a very skimpy bra as she pulls the blouse off her body. I try to object to seeing my own mother removing her clothes in front of her son, but I am actually finding this strip show quite arousing for some reason.
Once her blouse drops to the floor, she reaches for her skirt and doesn't hesitate to pull it down her body and let it hit the floor. She steps out of the discarded skirt with one foot and then takes the other foot and lifts it before kicking it onto the pile with the blouse.
Without another thought, my mother continues by reaching behind her back and unhooks her bra, allowing it to simply drop from her body. "My God, mom, your breasts look amazing!"
"Thank you, son, but are you not also going to get undressed?" my mother comments as she reaches for her panties. There is no inhibition holding her back and she is soon standing fully naked in front of me. I have only seen breasts and pussies in pictures before today. Now I am admiring my own mother's naked body.
I can't keep my eyes off her, but my hands seem to have a mind of their own. I feel my shirt being lifted over my head but I continue to keep my eyes fixated on my mother. My shorts begin sliding down, and my boxers go with them. I have stripped off my own clothes but have no memory of a thought telling my hands to do this action.
I step forward and wrap my arms around my mother. I bury my face between her breasts, like that is a natural thing for a son to do. She takes her hand and raises my face from her breasts, "Fuck me, Brian!"
"Yes, Diane," I reply. In my mind, it only makes sense to call the woman I am about to fuck by her first name, instead of mom.
Diane initially sits on the couch but soon reclines back and lifts her legs. I climbed on the couch and spread her legs to get a perfect view of my target. I crawl forward on my knees to align my body with hers. I reach for my cock, stroking it just to confirm it is ready for its adventure.