I am 48. I have never married. I am 6' tall and in pretty good shape and I am sure some people may think I am gay because I am unmarried and live at home. My friends from work and childhood buddies know and believe that I have been engaged in a love affair with a married woman with two children who refuses to divorce her husband. That is almost the truth and I lead them to believe it. What no one knows is that my mother is the woman I have been intimate with for the last 30 years. I was 18 and she was 45 when it began. She is now 75, still beautiful, slightly overweight, a few wrinkles but her skin is as smooth as a baby's. Our lovemaking is not as frequent as it once was but our passion has not diminished one bit. Her orgasms are extremely intense and they never cease to amaze me. I believe the love we have for each other keeps her not only young at heart but very young and vibrant in her appearance...
Society thinks incest is sexual abuse and unfortunately many cases are, especially between a father and daughter. Consensual incest is definitely not child abuse. Many believe it is a sexual deviation gene similar to being gay or lesbian. Both parties are born with it in their gene pool. It is a sexual deviation that is not as prevalent as homosexuality but it does occurs a lot more than most people believe because it is illegal must be kept secret and private from society. It is a latent condition passed from parent to child that is suddenly triggered by an event that unleashes an uncontrollable desire in both parent and child. I know for a fact that sex between a mother and son is absolutely electrifying. Both parties are wired into it and cannot control their desires . While the age disparity is apparent, she could easily pass for a woman in her late 50s. When away on vacation we relax a little and I am positive many observers believe it is the usual May-December love affair. They would never suspect that we are mother and son. Our relationship started out as a magnificent obsession that quickly became a love affair. Let me tell you how it began.
I was raised in a house with two older sisters and my widowed Mom who worked. My oldest sister married and moved out when I was 13 and the younger started community college the same year. Frankly, I grew up seeing a lot of bra and panty clad bodies and an occasional ass or tit. It was not lost on me. At 9 or 10 years old I started masturbating by accident. I was shimmying up the front porch support pole when I discovered how my penis got hard and how great it felt rubbing on the pole. It felt so good I started sliding up and down enjoying the sensation and suddenly I had my first orgasm. I lost my breath. I shivered with delight. I didn't have any idea what happened or why it felt so good but I wanted it to happen again and again. I started rubbing up and the pole every chance I got. Mom caught me and realized what I was doing; she gave me a good cuff and sternly told not to do it again.
Needless to say I continued to find objects to grind against and soon I was producing sperm. I spied on my sisters constantly but it was Mom who I always dreamed about. She was short with huge breasts and slightly overweight but she was beautiful. She did not date because she was busy working and raising three kids and paying the mortgage. The defining moment for me came when I was 12 years old and it sealed my fate forever. I was out of school for the summer vacation when Momma hurt her back and missed work for a few days. When she went back to work at the bank she worked part time for a month or so. She needed help getting dressed because it was difficult for her to bend. Since my sisters were out of the house working by the time Mom got dressed, I had to help her.
It was beyond my wildest dreams. She held her bra to her breasts and faced away from me so I could hook her bra. Her back was flawless and smooth as cream and I loved to let my hands lightly touch it. Because of her condition she wore a garter belt instead of a girdle to hold up her stockings. She always managed to get her underpants on before she called me into her bedroom to help her. Hooking her stockings was the highlight of my young life. My hands would tremble as I slid them between her upper thighs pulling up her stockings. I always managed to fumble with the garters in the front. I could see traces of black pubic hair peeking out from her crotch and I strained every fiber of my being trying to smell her crotch. But I could not.
It was the sight of her standing in bra and panties that was burned in my memory forever and caused me to do the next thing in my sexual development or deviant behavior depending on your point of view. I was hopelessly in love with her. Her underwear became my obsession. I loved to examine, caress and yes smell her underwear most of all and started to brush against her every chance I got. I constantly spied on her and loved to see her in her bra and underpants. I also started jacking off in my hand but I still preferred to grind a pillow or a pole or the arm of the sofa. I always used a towel or washcloth to catch the sperm. I always made believe I was making love to her.
I started a routine that was really strange and perhaps perverse. I don't even know how it started; I guess it was the image of her standing in her bra and panties as I helped her with her stockings. I called it my super jerk off day. It was special and took some preparation. When I was sure no was home I would begin my preparations. While not elaborate they were unique to say the least. I loved it. I had a pair of my mother's panties hidden that had a hole in the crotch. I would put two pillows one on top of the other. I occasionally stroked my prick as I dressed the pillows with my mom's bra stuffed with wash cloths and then I put her special underpants with the hole in the crotch over the bottom of the pillows and I put a glass inside that my prick would cum in and not soil the pillows. I would smell, examine and lick every pair of her soiled panties I could find. I slowly stroked myself as I put my mom fuck pillows together, being very careful not to cum in my hand. If I got close I would stop to prolong it. When I could not stand it any longer, I slipped my prick through the slit in the underpants and between the pillows and into the glass and humped my artificial mom. I started this when I was 13 and continued to do it to the age of 18. If I had enough time I would do it again as soon as my prick got hard. I was always ashamed and disgusted when I was done and swore I would never do it again. But I could not stop and I did it again and again.
One morning just after my18th birthday, thinking no one was home I was so horny I was shaking. I swore, as I did a hundred times before, that this would be the absolute last time I would fuck the pillows. I knew when it was over I would hate myself because it was so sick. I could not help myself and I dressed pillows in mom's underwear and began feeling and admiring the fake tits I assembled. I had two pair of her dirty underpants and started fucking my fake Mom. My ass and pelvis and prick were grinding in and out like a machine. Lost in the in the passion I never heard my mother come into the house. Oblivious to the fact she was standing in the doorway watching me. When I came I gasped, "I love you Momma."
Then I heard, "What the hell are you doing!!"
I rolled over and jumped up mortified. She walked into the bedroom and gasped when she saw cum dripping from my stiff prick. Her face was beat red and she stared at me for a long time and finally said "Jesus Christ! How long have you been doing this? You need a doctor." She was shocked but she was still staring at my dripping prick.
I was speechless and expected a slap or two. Then she saw her bra and panties on the pillows. She was dumbfounded at the setup and the lengths I had gone to jerk off. She stared at the panties with the hole in the crotch and she grabbed the underpants I had been licking and examined them. She held them out to me and said "Is this what you do with my dirty underwear" I still couldn't speak and I had my hands covering my prick and I was expected a beating.
She continued to shriek, "Look at me. She was holding her underpants in one hand and then said, "Look at this", as she pulled my hands away from my crotch. She put her hand on my dick and squeezed it tightly. I thought she was going to rip it off.
"When did you start doing this? This is disgusting." I didn't answer. She continued to squeeze my dick tightly and it started to hurt. "Do you get enjoyment from doing that to the pillows?"I still couldn't speak. "Do you" she screamed. "Answer me you fucking pervert. Do you enjoy smelling and licking my dirty underwear? Do you make believe that is me? Answer me or I swear I will rip your thing off. How long have you been doing this?"
I meekly answered, "Since I helped you get dressed when you hurt your back." I started to cry and said, "I need help. I think I'm crazy Mom. I try not to do it but I can't stop. I want to kill myself."
She loosened her grip on my prick and said, "Don't you dare talk like that. You are not crazy. It is simply a fetish. My God! I caused this. It is not your fault but you need help to stop this. Masturbation is the most normal thing in the world. It is healthy. You simply went too far. I am so sorry for causing this. You are too old to dress up the pillows. I will help you stop." Then she began moving her hand slowly up and down my prick.
"There is nothing wrong with masturbating. Everyone does it. I do it too. I know your sisters do it too. Do you always make believe it is me? Answer Me if you want me to help you!!"
"Yes Mom."
"Have you always made believe you are doing it to me when you masturbate?"
"Yes Mom. Please don't be mad or tell anyone. Please help me Mom." Her hand and the way she was talking were driving me crazy. I never heard her talk like that before.
"Does this feel good? Why can't you just do this sweetheart? I will help you. You don't need the pillows. You can jerk off and make believe your are fucking your fat mother." Her hand was beautiful and I started moving with her hand. "You don't need the pillows. Doesn't this feel good? Do you like this?"
"Oh yes," I moaned.
"You can still smell my crotch in the panties while you pretend to fuck me? Momma isn't mad at you." I began moaning yes as she continued to slowly message my prick. "Do you want me to stop? Tell me if you want me to stop honey. "
