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Mother and son rekindle their incestuous feelings by having sex on Christmas.
Jennifer readied herself for bed while her son used the guest bathroom. He hadn't used this bathroom yet and wanted to know what it was like to use this bathroom compared to his bathroom. Obviously feeling sexy or horny, as the case may be, perhaps from the wine consumption or perhaps because her son volunteered to sleep with her, Jennifer put on her sheerest, shortest, and sexiest nightgown.
With him already long gone but with him seemingly always on her mind, especially around the holidays, it was a nightgown that she never got to wear for her husband. Still in the box, she chose this particular nightgown to wear for Michael because it opened in front as if it was a sarong or a full body kilt without the big pin keeping it closed where it needed to be kept closed. Depending on who she was wearing the nightgown for, her boyfriend, her husband, her lover or, in this case, her son, the nightgown was deemed sexy or even obscene by all that it showed of her naked body. Being that she was wearing this nightgown for Michael, indeed it was obscene that a mother would show so very much of her naked body to her son.
Obviously with this nightgown and with her ready to show Michael so very much of her shapely, sexy, naked body, she was ready for sex. She was ready to sexually tease him and incestuously entice him before giving him sex. Seemingly, she enjoyed the foreplay, the flashing, the teasing, the holding, the hugging, the cuddling, the spooning, the touching, the feeling, the fondling, and the kissing as much as she enjoyed the actual sex. Yet, in the way that they had a difficult time crossing the imaginary line of incest before, as if this was the first time that mother and son were about to be sexually intimate, that same imaginary line of incest reappeared again now.
It was one thing to have incestuous sex in a motel room in California, but not here, not in this house, their new home. Perhaps putting a curse on the house, having incestuous sex here would defile the house. It was one thing to have incestuous sex because they felt so sad after losing their house, but now that he's so happy in his new life and she should be happy too, one would think that incestuous sex was off the table. After being given a million dollars to buy this house and all of the furnishings, his truck, her car, and their clothes, what's their excuse to have sex now?
This is their new life. As if weighing themselves down with the past, why drag their old life back in their new life to ruin that life too? Thinking that they'd learn from their mistakes, and with a mother having sex with her son the biggest mistake of all, why repeat the mistakes they made before all over again now? How dare they fall back on their old habits when this is their chance to start all over again without having the shame and the guilt of incest ruining everything?
A one-time thing that they now needed to forget, if they never have incestuous sex again, they've a better chance of putting their forbidden, sexual past behind them. If they never have incestuous sex again, they could concentrate on finding someone, a man for her and a woman for him. If they never have incestuous sex again, they could get on with their life as if having sex with one another never happened. Indeed, if they never have incestuous sex again, they could pretend that what sexually happened between them that Halloween night never happened.
* * * * *
With only one button at the neck holding her shamelessly sexy nightgown closed, her beyond naughty nightgown looked like an oversized, wrap around cape with two big holes for her arms and one for her neck. Having only worn this nightgown once to bed, she choose to wear this nightgown again now. Obviously because of how sexy she looked wearing this negligee, she was eager to wear this nightie again now.
The last time she wore this nightgown, because it was so sheer and showed everything, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt so sexy. She felt so wicked. She felt like a whore. On the flipside of that coin, the last time she wore this nightgown, realizing her reality of not having a man in her life, the nightgown made her feel sad and sexually frustrated. The last time she wore this nightgown, she masturbated herself while thinking of a man touching her, feeling her, kissing her, making love to her, and fucking her. Obvious now ready to make her sexual fantasy her sexual reality, the last time she wore this nightgown, she thought of having forbidden sex with her son.
After she wore this negligee just once and after she masturbated herself while wearing the nightgown, she returned the nightie to the box to never wear it again. Now, obviously eager to wear this particular nightgown again, no doubt it had been a long time since she felt sexy enough to wear it. Obviously, by wearing this nightgown tonight, she wanted Michael to see her in this particular nightgown. With the nightgown making a statement without words, clearly showing her breasts, her pussy, and her ass, the nightgown screamed sex. Obviously eager to wear it again, perhaps because the unbuttoned opening gave her son free access to her naked body, she wanted him to touch her and feel her while making love to her and before fucking her.
* * * * *
Ready to sleep with his mother again, ready to hold her, hug her, cuddle her, spoon her, and hopefully even dry hump her, as if he was room service and they were at a swank hotel, Michael lightly knocked on her bedroom door. Filled with the anticipation of having sex with his mother again, he couldn't wait to touch her and to feel her while kissing her. He wondered if she'd allow him to make love to her again. He wondered if she'd allow to fuck her again. He wondered if she'd suck his cock and allow him to cum in her mouth again.
Only, instead of having sex, maybe she just wanted him to hold her, hug her, cuddle her, and spoon her while she slept. Yet, if that's all that she wanted to do, better than sleeping alone in his own bed and masturbating himself, he'd rather be in bed with his mother. He'd rather be sleeping next to her to feel her warmth and to feel her breathing. Maybe she'd allow him to sleep in her bed every night. Perhaps, after a while, catching her at a weak and vulnerable moment, with him already there in bed with her, she'd have sex with him again.
"Mom? Are you decent?"
Decent? Such an oxymoronic word when describing his mother? What does decent even mean when a mother is practically naked behind her bedroom door after inviting her son to sleep with her? Even if she was decently dressed, that still wouldn't make her decent.
Just as there was nothing decent about him with him already having an erection with the thoughts of bedding his mother, there was nothing decent about her. There was nothing decent about incest. Incest was wrong. Incest was nasty. Incest between a mother and her son was the worst kind of incest.
How dare she? How dare he? How dare they? What's wrong with them to want to have sex with one another? If only they knew there was nothing decent about incestuous sex. If only he knew there was nothing decent about his mother.
After they had sex the first time and once they had sex again, he'd forever be deemed perversely perverted for having sex with his mother and she'd forever be deemed an incestuous whore for having sex with her son. Whatever love and affection they felt for one another, in the eyes of the world's opinion, him having sex with his mother makes him a pervert and her having sex with her son makes her a whore. What does decent mean when a mother invited her son to sleep with her in her bed? Just as he wasn't decent to want to sleep with his mother, she wasn't decent to want to sleep with her son. How dare they even use the word decent in regards to their forbidden, incestuous affair? Decency was oxymoronic to incest.
With his mind reeling with the sexual anticipation of sleeping in the same bed with his mother again, morals aside he hoped she wasn't decently dressed. No need to worry about her being morally decent and modestly shy, when she stripped off her clothes in that motel room and stood before him naked, she had already shown him that she was indecently immoral and immodestly wicked. Not one to disappoint her son in the way that her son would never disappoint his mother, once they crossed that line of incest, with decency pushed aside for incest, neither of them would ever be decent again.
With incestuous thoughts on his mind, the last thing he wanted his mother to be was decent. He needed her to be indecently naked again. He'd rather his mother be an incestuous whore in the way she was in that motel room. In the way she willingly stripped herself naked and was immorally and immodestly standing before him naked in the motel room, he hoped she was standing naked behind her bedroom door in her bedroom. He hoped she'd sleep in the nude again in the way she did at the motel. He hoped that she'd open her bedroom door naked and insist that he'd be naked too.