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Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.
This is a fantasy of consensual incest between adults. It is intended for adults who are interested in reading about consensual sex between relatives. If this offends you, do not continue any further.
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"Ohhhh!" moaned Lori.
Her eager fingers slipped into her sweet, moist pussy. It was first the manicured, red nails and then half of the index and middle fingers which eased over and in between the two sticky and swollen lips, beginning their descent into her heated sex.
The alluring 44 year-old busty brunette was nude, swaying her generous hips seductively in front of her full-length bedroom mirror. She was enchanted by the sight of her own bare form moving in a slow striptease manner as she began to pleasure herself.
Her fingers moved in and out of the pink, soggy crevice leisurely at first. Then as her wetness increased and her arousal heightened, the two digits began a determined pump action.
Meanwhile, the other hand was cupping the adjacent breast. Lori squeezed the large quivering mass of tit flesh, weighing it, kneading it, tweaking the excitedly upturned nipple between thumb and forefinger.
"Ahhh, yeah!" she exhaled in sensuous delight.
Lori was a magnificent MILF, divorced almost two years ago. Despite her Italian heritage, she was a dead ringer for the sexy Latin celebrity Penelope Menchaca. She worked as an office manager, and lived with her 19 year-old son Raimondo, or Ray for short.
She had a very healthy sexual life with her ex, until he disregarded monogamy and his taste for women suddenly ran in the twenty-somethings. After the marital split, Lori was emotionally devastated for many months, causing her libido to be shelved. Eventually "the itch" returned as she healed. She wasn't interested in another relationship and cared less for one-night stands.
She opted for masturbation as her itch relief.
Her auto-pleasuring was initially done late at night when she knew her son was asleep. She would remain quiet in her bed, very often having to bite her lip from releasing moans of pleasure as she rubbed her excited clit. On the verge of an orgasm, she gritted her teeth not wanting her son to have any idea of what his mother was nocturnally doing. Oh, how she wanted to scream in joy as her climax ripped through her like a lightning strike.
Lately she caught a break when Raimondo started dating. On nights in which he was out—like this evening—she had loads of time for self-loving She used to fantasize about being a stripper. So now when she played with herself, she did it a la burlesque in front of her full length mirror.
She also masturbated this way for another reason. Prior to the divorce, Lori knew she had a smoking hot body. But learning that her ex spouse was cheating with girls half her age damaged that sexual self-confidence. She was crushed. She did her masturbating in front of the mirror not only to fulfill her stripper fantasy, but to gain back the knowledge that she had a great shape.
"Ughhh!" she grunted in both anticipation and primal joy as she prepared for her never unsatisfying crescendo.
With eyes closed, thighs spread and knees bent, the ravishing mom craned her neck forward as her cupped breast was tilted backward. Her lips and the fat, bloated nipple met. She kissed it, then licked at the teat and the prickly areole. At the same time, using only the middle finger of the other hand, she commenced a furious pace of fucking herself. Her digit quickly pumped in and out of her drooling, needy slit.
Another All-Star orgasm was approaching when the front door of her house slammed shut. The unexpected, loud noise jolted her from her sexual reverie. The angry "Sonofabitch!" she heard prompted her hands to release her breast and withdraw from between her legs. She heard the locks being turned. The next sound, muffled sobbing, kicked in Lori's maternal instincts. It was Raimondo. She quickly reached for the orange T-shirt left on her nearby desk chair, pulled it over head and ran out of her bedroom into the living room. She saw her son sitting on the couch looking forlorn and crying.
"Ray! What's wrong?" she inquired at the hallway entrance to the living room.
"Mindy dumped me, Mom!" he blurted out, his face growing red and teardrops streaming down his cheeks.
The concerned mother rushed to the couch and sat next to her child. She peered into his crestfallen eyes.
"She dumped me, Mom!" he repeated as his weeping intensified.
Lori was shocked and saddened. His head fell into her chest at the same time her arms went out to scoop him up. She pulled him close into her, hugging him.
"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she consoled.
For the next several minutes, the son wailed as his mother cradled him in her arms. When there was a lull in the tears, she gently asked, "What happened?"
Ray looked up at her. "She, she..." he emotionally stammered "she said I was freak!" His face scrunched up again and another round of immense sobbing began. The young man lowered his head back into the spaciousness and comfort of his mother's bosom.
A freak?
The divorcee mentally inquired. She was at a loss. She decided to let him get out this new batch of tears.
"There, there, baby. Everything's going to be fine," she lovingly offered him. She kissed him on the top of his head and hugged him tighter.
After he seemed to calm down, Lori asked, "Baby, tell me. Why did she call you a freak?"
He looked up at her again. "I can't talk about it."
With great surprise, she questioned, "Why?"
Ray stayed silent for a moment, then responded embarrassingly.
"It's sexual."
"Ok. It's sexual. So why can't you discuss it with me?"
"Because it's sexual! And you're a woman."
"I'm your mother."
Feeling slightly beaten in his defense of not wanting to talk about this with her, he replied. "I know you're my mother. But this is so humiliating. It would be easier if Dad was here."
Well you can thank
and a couple of co-eds for that,
her mind silently replied. "I know, honey. But he's not. So I guess your stuck with me," she countered in a good-natured, self-depreciating way. It got him to smile.
"I am not stuck with you. I am lucky to have such a wonderful, caring mother."
Now it was her turn to be embarrassed, at the unexpected compliment. She returned the smile.
"Thank you." She paused before resuming trying to uncover the problem. "So what happened?"
Ray sighed in exasperation. He looked at his mom, then around the room, looking for a literal way out of this predicament. His frazzled mind, realizing he needed her help, pondered how to respond. She could see his anxiousness. She remained silent. He grudgingly replied.
"We were making out and..." Sadness and feeling uncomfortable overwhelmed him as he remembered what happened less than an hour ago. He paused.
"And?" she questioned.
He relented. "I'll show you, Mom. But, just give me a minute or two. This is not easy."
She realized this and could see it in him. "That's fine, baby. Take your time. I will leave you alone so you can gather yourself together. When you are ready, I will be in my bedroom. And Ray..." she stopped to caringly put both her palms under his chin and look into his yes. "...everything will be ok."
Lori then stood up in front of him. Ray looked up at her lovely face. Her comforting smile was balm-like but only for a moment. As he lowered his head in despair, he had no choice but to scan downward over his mother. His eyes took in the incredible sight of her.
The bright orange T-shirt showcased Lori's voluminous breasts, distended nipples poking through the material. The straining teats and the way her tits jiggled as she stood made it obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. The material was a snug fit on her curvy shape, accenting her lush hips. The hem was a scant few inches just below her pubic region. The offset of the T-shirt's color to her tanned, smooth thighs was alluring. Her legs were long and seemed to go on forever. Her bare feet and red-painted toenails looked cute.
At that instance, it dawned on him that his mother—as a woman—was a knockout.
Under different circumstances, Ray might have chastised himself for viewing his mom in such an odd way. But he had just been blue-balled by his girlfriend on the night he thought was going to get laid for the very first time. He had held off spanking his monkey for weeks only to be thrown out of her house like a filled garbage bag. This sexual discarding was immense, Ray's hormones and urges racing faster than NASCAR. The fact that the scantily-dressed woman before him was his mother had little bearing.
Then his eyes were distracted by his nose. He smelled something. It was emanating from Lori.
That's the same smell Mindy had tonight when I was fingering her.
Ray might have been a virgin but he was not dumb. He knew about the scent a woman gives off when sexually aroused. He heard about. He got his first whiff tonight with Mindy. Now he's sniffing it from his mother...who's gorgeous and dressed in only a flimsy pullover.
She doesn't date. There's no one here tonight, and she smells like a whorehouse during Fleet Week. She was probably masturbating when I came home unexpectedly.
Ray's eyes did a return scan, south to north, back up to her face. This was a much slower visual.
Lori saw the manner in which her son looked at her. It was the way a man looks at a woman, not the way a son looks at his mother. At first this mortified her. She felt like shit because she was standing before her emotionally wounded son in a thin piece of cloth barely covering her previously orgasming body. Plus he did a sharp intake of her lingering fragrance. She was so embarrassed.
Fate is funny, though. It is especially funny when there is sexual neglect and interrupted sexual activity. Just as Ray had unexpectedly saw his mother as a woman—a good looking woman, Lori also changed. The mortification gave way to appreciation. She liked that a man—one she knew and trusted—found her attractive. Her mind was trying to make sense of its own sudden and rapid shift.
