Warning: The Pretend Game is just a game of pretend. DO NOT PLAY THE PRETEND GAME AT HOME without professional supervision.
No characters in this story are underage. Mother is 49-years-old and her son is 28-years-old
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Not just playing a game, mother and son celebrate Christmas by having sex.
Continuing the game of pretend, Janice leaned in to French kiss her son, Jerry. Giving him a motherly kiss was acceptable but French kissing her son with open mouths and probing tongues, while touching and feeling one another through their clothes, was a sexually scandalous and provocatively daring move to make. With incest taboo and forbidden, for the sake of having an incestuous relationship with her son, Janice now lost all sense and sensibilities in playing this game of pretend. Too surreally realistic in their lust for one another, no one in their right mind would ever believe that they could pretend enough to not realize that a mother was having sex with her son and a son was having sex with his mother. Thinking otherwise in seemingly believing that they were someone else, other than mother and son, was just a ruse that they both needed to play to play a game of pretend.
Equally as wicked in his lust for his mother as she was in her lust for her son, Jerry French kissed his mother while obviously pretending that she was Cynthia and Janice French kissed Jerry while not pretending that he was David but her son. Yet, as if both had lost their minds in their loneliness, their depravity, and their sexual attraction for one another, how far were they willing to go in their incestuous, sexual debauchery? Would they get naked? Would they lick, suck, and fuck one another? Would this sexual fantasy only be a onetime adventure or would this Christmas celebration develop into a mother and son sexual relationship that would span for years?
If they could pull this off by pretending that they were indeed someone else, what's so wrong with a mother making love to her son while pretending that he was her dead husband and a son making love to his mother while pretending that she was his ex-wife? If they could come together under the pretense of playing a game, wouldn't more mothers and sons explore the forbidden fruits of incest if playing The Game of Pretend was the way to do that without repercussions, without guilt, and without remorse? Maybe most mothers and sons who have incestuous sex don't have guilt or remorse.
Having no control over how they sexually feel about one another, maybe most mothers and sons who have had incestuous sex allow the sexual excitement to wash over them in the way that a wave washes over them at the shore. She wondered how many of her girlfriends lusted over their sons. She wondered how many of her girlfriends' sons lusted over their mothers. She wondered how many women she knew were already having sex with their sons. Having been happening for hundreds of years, a mother having sex with her son, surely, she wasn't the only one.
By playing pretend, and obviously unbeknownst to Jerry, this was his mother's justifiable way for her to have incestuous sex with her son without either of them having all of the guilt and remorse associated with such a forbidden relationship. By playing pretend, and obviously unbeknownst to Janice, maybe this was his justifiable way for him to have incestuous sex with his mother without him having all of the guilt and remorse associated with such a forbidden relationship. Pray tell, how else could two mature adults, who were mother and son and forbidden to do so by normalcy, by decency, and by society, explore one another's naked bodies while having sex with guilt free consciences?
Kissing and kissing one another without groping her breasts as he did before, Jerry now knew not to feel his mother's breast until she invited him to do so by the passion of her kisses or in this case, when she felt his cock through his jeans. Feeling him jump when she ran her hand across his bulging erection, she felt more than his cock when she felt her son's prick through his pants. She felt his surprise and she felt the hardening passion that swelled, throbbed, and pulsated in his pants for her. In the way that she was already so very wet for her son, her son was already so very hard for her.
Taking his growing erection in her hand through his pants, she fingered the head of his cock with her manicured fingers before squeezing it and kneading it in her hand as if she was rolling a fine, handmade, Cuban cigar. Responding to his mother's signals of her feeling his big prick, it was then and only then that he felt her large breasts through her blouse and bra while French kissing her. The more they played the pretend game and the more the pretend game progressed, the more they kissed, touched, and felt one another, and the more sexually excited they both became.
"Finger my nipples David," she whispered as if speaking to her long dead husband instead of her much alive son. "I like it when you finger my nipples though my blouse and bra while kissing me. It's been so long since you felt my tits," she said whispering what she wanted and what she needed in his ear.
Obviously with Janice in control of this mother and son sexual relationship, Jerry obeyed his mother. On the pretense of fingering Cynthia's nipples through her blouse and bra, he French kissed and French kissed his mother. With each kiss heightening their sexual passion, too late to turn back, there was no stopping their forbidden lust for one another.
"I love feeling your big tits Cynthia," he said feeling her big tits. "I love fingering your big nipples," he said pulling at the impressions her nipples made through her clothes to make them bigger and harder while staring down at them.
She looked down at his hands to watch him feel her tits and finger her nipples.
"Squeeze my tits David. I like it when you squeeze my tits," she said.
As if squeezing oranges for orange juice at breakfast, Jerry squeezed his mother's tits, no doubt, as if in the way that he'd squeeze Cynthia's tits. Squeezing one, he squeezed the other. Then, looking up at his mother before looking back down at her exposed breasts, he squeezed her tits again.
"How's that?"
He looked in her blue eyes before looking down at her breasts. She was so beautiful. She was so sexy, especially with her sitting there topless. By the fact that he was willing to have sex with his mother, he'd do anything to pleasure and or please his mother, even if it meant him squeezing her tits. Normally men revere and regard women's naked breasts with respect, lust, and desire and squeezing a woman's tits seemed against the natural order of all things sacred.
"Harder," she said. "Squeeze them harder. I like having my tits squeezed harder than that. Squeeze them as hard as you can."