This is a work of fiction. Any sexual activities described will be between persons of at least 18 years of age.
My name is Jacob Johnson (M38), and my mother Carla Johnson (F54) and I started our incestuous relationship 20 years ago.
A little bit of back story, My mother was a 16 year old high-school junior when she got pregnant and gave birth to me. My father was the captain of the football team and dumped her immediately upon learning of her pregnancy. My grandparents, while understandably upset with mom, made absolutely certain to take care of us both. Mom graduated high school on time with the rest of her class, then went to the local community college to get a two year nursing degree, then transferred to a four year school to finish it up. After she graduated from college, she joined the USAF as a nurse because she thought that her joining up was what Grandpa wanted (he was USAF too).
I lived with my grandparents until I was 12 when mom was reassigned to RAF Lakenheath in the UK. She said that we'd never get another opportunity like the one before us and jumped on it. So I left my grandparents in North Carolina and moved with my mother to the UK. While we were in the UK, we saw the UK a day trip at a time, and I saw things that most Americans could only dream of. In order to keep our adventures going after the UK, mom put in for and got a conservative overseas tour to Germany.
She was then stationed at Ramstein AB outside of Kaiserslateren, but we lived in the village of Reiskirchen, outside of Homburg, Germany. We kept up our day trip at a time and saw Germany the same way that we saw the UK. On my 16th birthday, mom took me to the Gasthaus down the street from where we lived and bought me my first beer, a Parkbrau beer. As we enjoyed our beers, she told me that as long as I kept my grades up and did so only in her presence, I could have one beer a day with our evening meals. She said that she wanted me to learn how to drink responsibly and in moderation, which I wouldn't learn doing things the way our government back home wanted.
After three years in Germany, mom's luck with COTs ran out, and she got reassigned to Shaw AFB, SC. Before we had to go back to the States, with me being a big history buff, we took one last week long trip to Normandy for both the 60th anniversary of the D-Day landings and my birthday (6 June). While we were there, we saw Omaha and Utah beaches, Pointe du Hoc, Sainte-Mère-Église, Carentan, and other historic locations in the area, as well as the American military cemetery where President Teddy Roosevelt's sons were buried.
The night of my 18th birthday, mom drank a lot more at dinner than normal, so I paid our dinner bill, and half carried her up to our hotel room.
Once there, I sat her on the edge of the bed and began getting her ready for bed. As I stooped down and began removing her heels, she broke down in tears. "Jacob," she sobbed, "You're the only man in my life that I can count on."
"What about Grandpa," I countered?
"He's back home in the States, sweety," she said. "You're here right now honey, but if he were here, I know that I could count on him, too."
"What's this all about mom," I asked, sitting down facing her on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms around her, to hold her in a loving embrace and allow her to cry on my shoulder.
"Honey," she started between sobs, "today is your 18th birthday, and I've not had a real or lasting relationship with a man since before you were born."
Taken off guard by that comment, I pulled back and asked, "Are you saying that you resent me for ruining your love life?"
"Oh no, honey," she said, turning to face me while placing her hand on my thigh. "Your bastard of a sperm donor did that," she sobbed again. "You're a perfect young gentleman to me. A son that any mother would be proud of."
"Thanks, mom."
"Honey," she started, "I've been out with lots of guys over the years, but all of them just wanted to fuck. While fucking is fun," she continued, "sometimes a woman just wants to be loved, to be held, to be made love to, but all of the men that I've met just want to fuck, and that's not enough for me."
As she'd spoken, I stared into her beautiful blue eyes, and I saw something that I'd never seen before, I saw a woman with sexual needs and wants. My buddies in school had always joked that my mom was a down right MILF. Since we'd all seen "American Pie," they said that she was way hotter than "Stifler's Mom." She had at the time shoulder-length blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was 5'9" tall, weighted 135 lbs, and her measurements were 34D-26-35. Her 34D breasts were capped with large brown areolas, and she kept her blonde pubic hair neatly trimmed. When I said that the guys in school envied my milf of a mother I wasn't joking.
In spite of my mother being less than modest around the house, I'd never looked at her sexually before that moment in time. She had come out as a nudist to me a few years prior, but we'd both seen each other in various forms of undress up to and including nude more times than I could count.
As I sat there, she continued speaking, "Honey, I just want a man to seize the day, kiss me deeply and lovingly, and gently make love to me."
As quickly as they entered my mind, the words "Carpe diem" quietly escaped my lips as I looked into my mother's eye.
"Say again," my mother asked with a perplexed look upon her face?
While holding her gaze, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and steady my resolve to follow through with the outrageous thoughts flowing through my mind. The sweet and musky scent of her perfume mixed with her immpercivable womanly pheromones filling my nasal cavity were adding fuel to my newfound sexual desire for my own mother. "Carpe diem mother," I said in a gentle but somewhat deeper voice than normal as I moved one hand from her back to her chin, lifting it as I closed the distance between our mouths and kissed her deeply and lovingly on the lips.
Her reaction was immediate. She momentarily tried to voice a protest and put both hands on my chest and to push away, but I was stronger than she was and held her in place. As I kissed her, she quickly relented and became a willing participant in the kiss when her tongue invaded my mouth.
I don't know how long we kissed, but when I broke it, she breathlessly asked, "Jacob, where did that come from?"
"I don't know mother," I said releasing her and standing up, "I just saw something in your eyes that I'd never seen before," I continued as I stepped away from the bed.
"What are you doing," she asked?
"I've always seen you as my mother, but I saw something else in your eyes," I said as I turned back to the bed, made eye contact with her again, and kicked off my shoes.
"What are you talking about," she asked a worried look on her face?
"For some strange reason, I saw you as a woman, mother," I continued as I started to slowly remove my shirt. "A woman who needs a man that she loves dearly and who loves her just as dearly to make love to her," I said as my pants hit the floor.
"Jacob, why are you saying these things?"
"Mother, you just told me what you want. You want a man to seize the day and make love to you. I want to make you feel like a woman who is loved by a very special man," I said as I slid my boxer briefs to the floor, freeing my erect manhood for her to see.
"That's not exactly what I meant," she said, eyeing my slightly larger than average manhood, "but I'm beginning to see your point of view."
"I want to make you cum like no man ever has, or ever will," I said as I stepped up to her, having tried to keep eye contact with her the whole time.
The look on her face was a mixture of arousal, confusion, lust, and shock. She said nothing as I reached out to take her hand. I gently pulled her back to her feet and slowly started unbuttoning her summer dress. She kept her gaze locked with mine, and I could see her smiling in them. She kept her arms at her sides, allowing me to slowly unbutton each button.
When the last button was unbuttoned, I slipped my hands inside of it and gently ran my fingertips up her thighs, to her hips, waist, sides around her breasts, up her chest, collar bone, and finally to her shoulders where I gently released her dress to fall to the floor. She stood there unsure of what to do with her hands, clad only in a sex matching lacy white bra and panty set that looked incredibly gorgeous on her.
I stepped into her space, and she embraced me tightly. She tilted her face towards me in anticipation of the kiss that I was leaning in to give her. A kiss that she moaned with pleasure into. I moved one hand to the back of her head and brought the other to the center of her back to pinch open her bra's clasp. Once open, her bra stayed in place due to the straps still on her shoulders and how tightly we were embracing each other.
With her bra unclasped, I ran my fingertips gently back down my mother's body to her panties while still kissing her. I ran my fingers under the waist band and gently started maneuvering them off of her hips, and once clear, they dropped, joining her dress on the floor.
As I stood there kissing my nearly naked mother, I shifted my body and picked my mother up in a one man lift carry (the type of carry that a newly wed husband uses to carry his new bride across the threshold). I carried her around the foot of the Queen sized bed, to one of the sitting chairs next to the windows of our hotel room.
As I carried her, she happily finished removing her bra, throwing it in the general direction of our other discarded clothes. After she wrapped her arms around my neck, the look in her eyes changed a bit, as if she'd had a moment of clarity, and she asked, "Jacob, what's gotten into you tonight?"
"Nothing, mom," I answered honestly, "I just realized how much I loved you, and more importantly, how far I'm willing to go to prove it to you."
"Honey, you're my son, and you don't have to make love to me to show me how much you love me."
"Mom, I honestly want to," I said. "I want to actually be the man of the house that I've always been, to be your man, to be the man that you can rely on to satisfy ALL of your needs regardless of what they are."
"Honey, what we're about to do is incest," she said, "and incest is wrong."
"Mom, I know that incest is wrong, but if what I'm feeling right now is wrong, I don't want to ever be right again," I finished as I reached the chair, turned and sat down in it with her sitting in my lap. I could feel one of her beautiful bare breasts pressing into my chest and her very moist vagina on my manhood. Placing one hand around her shoulder and the other on her hip, I looked her in the eyes again and said, "Mom, I'm going to resume what we've started. You can stop this at any time, but please dont?"
I gave her a moment to protest, but she bit her lip and said, "I know that what we're doing is wrong, baby, but please make mommy cum.'
I smiled at her leaned in and kissed her again. I kept one arm around her shoulders, but I brought the other hand up to her breast. I cupped her glorious orb with my palm and started flicking my thumb across her erect pinkie tip (at least for me) sized nipple and she moaned into the kiss.
As I broke the kiss and started kissing mom's neck and throat, she moaned again, arched her back pushing her breasts in my direction, and said, "Yes, baby, play with mommy's nipples. Mommy's nipples are so sensitive, baby. Please, baby, pinch them, pinch them HARD."
With her direction, I started pinching her nipple and kissed my way down her chest to suck and nibble on the other one.
