The incestuous relationship between mother and son is not always one of all-consuming lust and intoxicated sexual desire that seizes the two in a spontaneous uncontrollable moment. More often than not the illicit relationship creeps into existence in the cold light of reality with the mother's consent, though in hind sigh no one would fault her for her progressive indiscretion.
There are many reasons why the mother may drop her defenses; an unhappy marriage, discontentment with life overall or the unfortunate death of her partner in life. A woman does not stop desiring affection and intimacy, but often shies at indiscriminate sex, wishing to hold on to the world that she has become accustomed to.
Agnes had lost her husband six months earlier. Having never worked, it was difficult but she had found a job. The job and the insurance her husband had purchased allowed her to continue her modest lifestyle.
Her son, Bobby, eased the loneliness, supplemented her income, but he was soon to be married and would be leaving their spacious condominium. She had been assured that he would remain in the area but their time together would certainly be limited. With the thought of it all, she had become depressed.
"Working does not agree with me." She protested, sitting dinner in front of her son. "My back is aching something fierce. There is a movie on at eight. I'm going to take a hot bath before it comes on. Are you staying in tonight?"
"Yes." Bobby replied. "I'll get us some chips and Coke."
Always dressed modestly, Agnes returned to the living room in pink long pants pajamas and a lightweight housecoat.
Mother and son conversed occasionally during the two-hour movie. It was nearing 11 o'clock and Agnes moaned audibly when she stood to clear the coffee table.
"Did you take anything for your back?" Bobby queried.
"Yeah. It doesn't seem to be helping much." Agnes replied.
"Would you like me to rub your back?" Bobby suggested. "It might help."
"It's so late." She protested.
"It won't take long." He answered.
While her son's suggestion did not strike her as odd, unconsciously something told her it would be inappropriate for her son's hands to roam over her body. Just as unconsciously, her desire for closeness overshadowed any concern and she agreed a backrub might help.
"It just might!" She answered. "You sure you don't mind?"
"Not at all." Bobby assured her, already moving around the coffee table. "Come over here and lie on the carpet."
On his knees at her left side, Bobby spent near 30 minutes rubbing his mother's back and shoulders. Agnes moaned appreciatively as his strong hands squeezed and massaged her torso.
"I am so relaxed I hate to get up." Agnes said, as her son stood up. "You go ahead to bed. I'm going to stay here a minute or two."
"Don't nod off or you will wake up really sore." Bobby replied, leaving her.
Agnes waited for a long number of minutes before her right hand slipped under her and down the front of her pajamas and panties. Her extended middle finger found her clit and she fingered herself until a warm orgasm flowed through her.
It had nothing to do with her son rubbing her back. She just did it because she could and it felt good and suppressed much of her depression.
Bobby retrieved a clean sock from his dresser and entered his bed nude as he always did. He fiddled and stroked a limp cock to erection and then placed a pillow between his legs and rolled atop it. Holding his cock, in the sock, tightly in his right hand he began to hump the pillow.
It had nothing to do with massaging his mother's back. He did not think of her. He thought of his wife to be whom he fucked on a regular basis.
The next couple of weeks would find Bobby massaging his mother's back as she lay stretched out on the carpet. Sometimes he would offer, and other times his mother would hint that a massage to be nice. Bobby never found it to be a chore.
On one particular night, a Tuesday, Agnes complained that her legs hurt her too. She received the usual offer from her son for a backrub. For no particular reason, maybe the room was a bit warm, she removed her housecoat before stretching out on the carpet.
Bobby began rubbing the back of his mother's legs and for the first time became conscious that his mother had quite a nice butt. Thinking how funny it might be if his mother knew he was assessing her posterior, unconsciously, maybe wanting to be closer to it, he moved to straddle her legs as he began to rub her back.
To say that Agnes was not aware of his position would do her an injustice. Her body instantly stiffened and it took all her concentration to relax, but relax she did and she said nothing. She was savvy enough to look, or feel, for an indication of indiscretion, but the jeans that her son wore gave her no clue. When the massage was over, she intentionally looked. Finding no foul, she put the thought out of her mind.
While it became a habit for Bobby to straddle his mother's legs during the backrubs, nothing out of the ordinary came to pass, well, at least for five or six more backrubs.
Consciously or unconsciously, Agnes put on a pair of short pants PJs. Quite modest in length she gave no second thought. She wasn't even expecting a backrub this particular evening.
"Hey Bobby!" Agnes welcomed her son as he opened the front door to the apartment. "I thought you were going to be out late tonight?"
"Helen is being a bitch about the wedding!" He replied. "It's funny how we can argue over the slightest detail. How many candlesticks, believe it or not!"
In actuality, Bobby wanted to fuck and Helen did not!
Bobby showered and returned to the open floor plan of the kitchen and living room. He was wearing short, gray, lightweight cotton pants and a white T-shirt.
Walking into the kitchen area, the retrieved ice and a Coke and then joined his mother on the sofa. They watched approximately 40 minutes of an hour-long drama.
"It's been a few nights. Would you like a backrub, mom?"
"Would love one, if you don't mind?" Agnes replied.
Also, having become a habit, Agnes discarded her housecoat. Her pink, short PJs immediately caught her son's attention. The cloth seemed a lot more thinner that her normal PJ attire. By the elimination of the TV, as she moved to the carpet, Bobby see right through the material. He assessed her thin but muscular legs as quite as exquisite. She had quite a gap between her thighs.
He watched her stretch out on the floor. Joining her, he straddled her legs as was the norm.
Sitting below her buttocks, Bobby had to stretch to reach her shoulders. To any casual spectator, it would not have been a stretch to see the sexual connotations in the motion involved.
To Bobby's credit, it must be said that it was only nature that took its natural course. Agnes soon felt a full-blown erection pressing into her backside. Long minutes slipped by as she pondered how to handle such a situation. She knew that her son had to be aware of the situation.
"Mom, I hate to cut your backrub short but I'm really tired tonight." Bobby said, as he retreated to a standing position. "I think I'm going to call it a night."
Agnes felt relief as she heard her son leave the room. Still, she had no thought that her son had had incestuous thoughts concerning her.
The 42-year-old lady had no incestuous thoughts of her own until she sat on the couch staring at the TV, her feet flat on the sofa, knees high and her right hand down her pants fingering her clit. All she could think about was the hard cock repeatedly pressing into her butt. Trying to concentrate on the firm shaft, her son's face constantly appeared.
Bobby, pillow between his legs, sock on his cock, fantasized about his wife to be but his mother's ass appeared beneath him as he came.
There was no mention of a backrub for over a week.
Agnes unconsciously rubbed her back as she cleared the kitchen counter after feeding Bobby.
"Is your back hurting you tonight?" Bobby queried.
"Like sin!" Agnes replied.
"Maybe a backrub is in order?" He queried, a bit of sheepishness in his tone.
"That would feel so good!"
As fortune would have it, mother and son were attired pretty much as they had been the last time of a backrub.
Agnes had a tinge of apprehension as she discarded her housecoat to a chair.
Bobby, also with a bit of apprehension, timidly straddled his mother's legs and began massaging her back and shoulders.
Try as he might to suppress it, Bobby was soon erect again and he repeated the same pattern of massage; small of the back, slide up the middle of back and squeeze the shoulders.
Agnes was well aware of what was happening behind her back, but she crossed her arms in support of her forehead and stared at the carpet, allowing him to continue. Unconsciously and without intent, she groaned at the pleasure of his backrub.
Bobby was locked into the intoxicating rhythm and was not inclined to stop on his own. Surely, he pondered, his mother must know what he was doing. Her moans, intended for him or not, was having a stirring effect on him. He fought to keep his pressing pressure into her ass at a minimum.
It took every fiber in his body not to moan as he shot off into his cotton shorts.
Agnes breathed a long breath through her lips, knowing her son had ejaculated. She could feel the wetness soaking into the material of her PJs.
Her son was still continuing to rub her back but his rhythm had changed as well as the pattern. How long had it taken; 10-15 minutes?