Mother Initiates Son to Manhood

Paul confesses the only thing he wants for his 18th birthday to his mother.

"Happy Birthday, Paul," said Ashley kissing her son on the lips.

There was nothing wrong with a mother kissing her son. Just a kiss, Ashley always kissed her son. In the course of a day, a week, a month, or a year, she couldn't count how many times she's kissed Paul and he's kissed her. They were close, real close.

For those twisted degenerates who are jealous of their loving relationship and would make something more out of a mother kissing her son, her kiss didn't mean anything other than a simple sign of affection between a mother and a son. How dare you even think that there was anything going on between this loving mother and her adoring son? Get your mind out of the gutter and take a minute to not only smell the roses but also see the rainbows. Life doesn't have to be only about sex, debauchery, and incest, does it? Well, it does in this story (lol).

With this, his 18th birthday, he was officially a man who now has the right to vote, to sign legal documents, to apply for a credit card, and to kiss his mother on the lips. Perhaps with her caught up in the exuberance of him becoming a man, if there was any inappropriate, sexual transgression at all, perhaps her kiss was a tad longer than what was appropriate but this was his special day. Today was Paul's birthday. Moreover, this was his mother and he loved her as much as she loved him.

"Happy Birthday Paul. I love you," said Ashley kissing her son on the lips again.

When some sons would never kiss their mothers on the lips and would only feel comfortable kissing them on the cheek, Paul not only always welcomed his mother's motherly affection but also he always welcomed her kissed. He loved kissing his mother and seemingly, she loved kissing him. He looked forward to feeling her lip gloss coated, creamy lips on his lips. Only, over the years, what normally was just an appropriate peck on the lips grew longer. With today his special day, his birthday, her kiss grew even longer when Paul wrapped an arm around her slim waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her more passionately than he's ever kissed her before.

With his quickly emerging erection pushing against her soft belly, their kiss suddenly turned more sexual. Kissing her without probing her mouth with his tongue, he kissed her as if she was his girlfriend instead of his mother. Something he's wanted to do since forever, shocking even himself for taking advantage of his mother's kiss and making her affection more sexual by him getting an erection, even he couldn't believe that he kissed his mother in such an inappropriate way. More than that, perhaps as surprised as he was that he kissed her in such a way, he couldn't believe his mother didn't pull away from him.

Seemingly, unless he imagined it, she was enjoyed kissing him as much as he enjoyed kissing her. Something that's never happened before but for one time when they kissed after church, in of all places, the church parking lot, he enjoyed his kiss as much as she seemed to enjoy her kiss. Seemingly, she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.

Truth be told, when alone in his room or in the bathroom, something he's imagined while masturbating over the imagined images of his mother, something he couldn't even imagine, her nightshirt clad body felt so good against his pajama clad body. She always wore a thin, light shirt to bed over her lacy bras and lacy panties. In the way that Lucille Ball, Donna Reed, and June Cleaver retired to bed wearing their bras and panties, his mother was modestly, old fashioned in that way too.

Sometimes she slept in her light shirt and just panties and no bra. Sometimes, a rare thing, perhaps when she was hot during the night, she just slept in her panties. With his mother's bedroom door always ajar for better air circulation, whenever going to bed late or waking up early, taking a detour to slowly walk by her room, he always peeked in to watch her sleeping. If only for him to have something to masturbate over later, he always looked to see what she wore to bed and what he could see of her. Sometimes when he was lucky, after she kicked off her covers, he got a darkened peek of her panty.

A sure sign that he was sexually attracted to his mother, a gross understatement, as soon as he pulled her to him and kissed her, in the way he'd kiss a woman who wasn't his mother, he had an erection that pressed against her soft belly. With the sensation of holding his mother in his arms while kissing her feeling so wonderful, he wondered if she could feel his cock hardening against her. With him imagining screwing her, it felt good to stealthily rub the head of his hardening cock against her tummy. With his long fingers poised on the top of her buttocks, his fingers traced the top elastic of her panty. He'd give anything to lower her panties with his teeth. As if he was her husband instead of her son, he was ready to move his hand down to grope her panty clad ass through her thin nightshirt.

Perhaps sensing the emerging sexual horniness of her son, his mother abruptly put a stop to his private, sexual moment with him rubbing his cock against her body. Then, when the tip of his tongue momentarily touched the tip of her tongue, she broke off his kiss when he tried to part her lips with his tongue. As if he had put his tongue in a sexual socket and electrocuted himself, dizzy with sexual delight, even he couldn't believe he had just tried to French kiss his mother while holding his mother in his arms. Even he couldn't believe how good it felt to touch her tongue with his. Even he couldn't believe how unbelievable it felt to slowly rub his erection up against her.

With his tongue touching her tongue lasting only a moment, that brief French kissing encounter was enough for him to imagine what it would be like to kiss her, really kiss her, and to French kiss her. He couldn't wait to return to his room to masturbate over the imagined thoughts of French kissing his mother. He couldn't wait to masturbate over the thoughts of touching her, feeling her, and fondling her while kissing her. With him making his move and now making his incestuous, sexual intentions known to her, he showed her his cards and now it was her turn to play or fold.

"I never thought this birthday would come," he said quickly changing the subject while feeling awkwardly uncomfortable that she broke off their kiss and gently pushed him away when he tried to French kiss her.

He was still reeling from the sexual excitement of trying to French kiss his mother. Something he's always thought about doing, as if it was an involuntarily movement, slipping her his tongue just happened. Now, when he looked at her, all he could see was her lips. Now, when she opened her mouth to speak, all he could see was her tongue. Perhaps with him coming of age, a man now, it was then that he sexually wanted his mother in the way that he never wanted her before.

Immediately erasing it from his mind whenever he thought of her rejecting his advances with him trying to French kiss her, more than her rejecting his advances, she rejected him. Obviously, she didn't want him in the way that he wanted her. Obviously, he was out of his mind with incestuous, sexual lust for his mother. Obviously, other than him being a testosterone filled horny, young man, there was really something wrong with him for him to try to French kiss his mother. Obviously, there was something seriously wrong with him for him to want to have sex with his mother. Only, with his sexual feelings for his mother never changing, other than burning more brightly than they ever did before, he's always wanted to have sex with his mother.

With his arm still around her, with her not pulling away from him, and with him standing so close to her that he could feel her heart beating, he looked down at her. Then, when she resisted him and gently pushed him away, the top of her partially unbuttoned nightshirt opened wide enough and long enough for him to see what he should never see of his mother and what he's always hoped to see of her beautiful body. At the right place, at the right time, he had a clear, down her nightshirt view of the tops of her beautiful breasts, her long line of sexy cleavage, and her beautiful, lacy bra. He felt his cock twinge and throb its sexual approval in appreciation of the sexy view she had given him. As soon as his cock stiffened, hoping she did, he wondered if she felt his cock throb against her too.

With her always wearing lacy underthings, sexy bras and sexy panties, he loved his mother's feminine underwear. Regularly going through her lingerie whenever she wasn't home, he loved sniffing her dirty panties and feeling her worn bras. Nothing sexual there, his friends' mothers wore plain white bras and while granny panties but not his mother. His mother dressed more like a Victoria's Secret model than she did his respectable mother. He'd give anything for his mother to model her underwear.

"Paul, I bought some new panties and bras. May I model them for you," he imagined her saying while he masturbated himself.

When he looked down at her, with her no doubt knowing that she had just flashed her son a peek of the tops of her bra clad breasts and her long, line of sexy cleavage, she looked up at him as if asking him if he liked what he saw. Was she teasing him? Was she playing him? He wondered if this was her sexy game to play. He wondered if she lusted over wanting to have sex with him as much as he lusted over wanting to have sex with her.

With his erect cock still impaling her soft belly, she took a step back to stare down at his pajama clad erection in the way that he had stared at her nightgown clad breasts. Only, not ogling him in the way that he ogled her, with him always staring longer and harder, she was more subtle about her looking at his pajama clad erection. A bold and unexpected move, with him making the first move in kissing her longer and trying to part her lips with his tongue, he expected her to make the next move by opening her mouth to return his passion by accepting his tongue inside. When she didn't and with him not as sexually experience as his mother, he didn't know what else to do. Embarrassing himself, he felt as if he failed in seducing her.

What was he supposed to do now after his mother rejected his French kiss and seeming rejected him as her incestuous lover? The one woman that he loved so very much, his whole world was crushed. Barely a man, he was just an 18-year-old boy and she was his mother of all people. With her doing the right thing by not allowing him to part her lips and in gently albeit forcefully pushing him away after he lost his mind to his hormones by trying to French kiss her, it was up to her to take control of this situation before it erupted into more. Only, what Paul thought was her rejection, perhaps was her needing a minute to realize what had just happened before taking the step of no return across the imaginary line of mother and son incestuous sex.

Because she's so sexy and because he's so in love with his mother, with his judgment twistedly impaired, he wondered if maybe all of this time he had been misreading her loving signals as sexual. Maybe all of this time she wasn't giving him sexual signals at all. Maybe all of this time she was just giving him the affection and attention that any mother would give her adult son. Maybe all of this time he was wrong about her in thinking that she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her. With her always kissing him on the lips and with him suddenly thinking that her signals were signs that she sexually wanted him, maybe because he's so crazy horny for his mother, he's imagining what's not there.

Now what? After he played his cards and lost, what does he do now? He felt so stupid. He felt so perversely perverted. He just wanted to run in his room and hide. Not knowing what else to do, he felt as if he had crashed the family car or lost the family dog by trying to take sexual advantage of his mother. What's wrong with him? How could he do such a thing? How can he possibly repair the great mother and son relationship they had before he lost his mind to incest?

* * * * *

Normally she wears a robe over her nightshirt but this morning, strangely enough, as if sexually teasing him and incestuously enticing him, perhaps in honor of his 18th birthday, she wasn't wearing a robe. Curiously odd that she wasn't wearing a robe, he only wished she was wearing one of her sheer, nearly transparent, nightgowns without a robe that he routinely imagined her wearing while masturbating over the imagined image of her. Only, even though she has a drawer full of sexy nightgowns, she never wears a nightgown. Not nearly as sexy as one of her nearly transparent nightgowns, perhaps she always wears her thin, short nightshirts instead.

This morning however, she wore her short, partially unbuttoned, light blue, cotton nightshirt. With her wearing her nightshirt without the modesty of a robe, her nightshirt clung to her shapely body like Saran wrap caressing a dinner plate. Every shapely curve of her was highlighted by her clinging nightshirt. Every time he saw her in her nightshirt, he imagined how sexy she'd look wearing one of his partially unbuttoned shirts. Maybe a throwback to the movies of the sixties when women donned their lovers' shirts after making love to them, she felt sexier wearing a nightshirt more than she would wearing a nightgown.

With her dark hair and dark eyes complimenting and contrasting the light color of her nightshirt, she looked like a Greek Goddess. If only she wasn't his mother, there'd be little wrong with a young man lusting over an older woman. As if she was standing there topless, the tight, thin material of her nightshirt caressed her bra clad breasts in the way he wished he could with his horny hands. In the way he had imagined seeing her in her sexy nightshirt so often when masturbating himself, instead of merely imagining it, he could discern the entire bulbous shape of her 36C breasts. As if she was deliberately teasing him by showing him more of her beautiful body than he's ever see of her before, there was just a thin piece of material between her shapely underwear clad body, between his horny hands, and between his pajama clad cock. A good time to play strip poker with her, she was only wearing three articles of clothes, her nightshirt, panty, and her bra.

Making sexual matters even more frustrating, normally, he wears underwear beneath his pajamas but this morning, for some unbeknownst reason, he didn't. With him not wearing underwear beneath his pajama bottoms, he felt wickedly sexual. Normally, his mother wears a bathrobe over her nightshirt but this morning, for some unbeknownst reason, she didn't. Actually, with them both inappropriately attired, they were a mother and son incestuous situation waiting to happen.

With his sister away at college and his Dad piloting the friendly skies somewhere over the west coast, he was alone with his mother on the east coast. As if his secret sexual desire had finally come true on his birthday, as his birthday wish, this was his chance to seduce his mother. At the very least, this was his chance to hopefully make out with his mother. An opportunity that he may never have again, this was his chance to touch her, to feel her, to grope her, and to fondle her sexy nightshirt clad body while kissing and kissing her. Only, with her already rejecting his French kiss, he was at a loss as to what to do now.

"With this your special day, with you having already opened your birthday gifts last night, and having already blown out the candles of your birthday cake to make your wish," she said while pausing to make eye contact with him. She gave him a smile that lit up her whole face. She always looked so very much prettier when she smiled. "What would you like to do today?"

* * * * *

What would he like to do today? Are you kidding me? Boy was that ever a loaded question. His brain was afire with all the sexual things that he'd love to do with his mother. He so wanted to blurt out all that he wanted to do with her today. He wanted to kiss his mother, really kiss his mother, French kiss his mother, and make out with his mother. Without all of the pretenses that they were mother and son getting in the way of their kissing, touching feeling, groping, fondling, and hugging, he wanted to strip her naked while she stripped him naked.

What he wanted to do for his birthday was to touch and feel her everywhere while making out with her before having sex with his mother. He wanted her to touch his cock, to hold his cock, and to stroke his cock. He wanted her to suck his cock after he licked her pussy and made sweet love to her before fucking her. Just because she was his mother didn't stop him from sexually wanting her. Just because she was his mother didn't stop him from trying to seduce her to make his sexual fantasy his sexual reality.

Something that mothers were good at doing, ignoring the bad behavior of their precious sons, seemingly, she ignored that he had just tried to French kiss her. He wondered what she was thinking after he tried parting her lips with his tongue. Only and obviously, sticking straight out as if it was his spear of love, the elephant in the room still remained when he developed an erection that tented his pajama bottoms. Then, when her nipples hardened enough for him to see them through her bra and through her nightshirt that she had big nipples, he wondered if she was a sexually aroused as he was.

As if it was a mirror image, the stiffness of his cock reflected the sexual desire that he had for his mother in the way that the erectness of her nipples showed the sexual desire she had for her son. In the way that he was glancing down at her big tits, he caught her glancing down at his engorged prick more than once. If only she would show him what she was thinking, he'd show her what he was thinking too. Being that sex takes two to play, one can't play without the other and right now, after she thwarted his sexual advances in wanting to French kiss her, it was a standoff with neither one wanting to make the first move.

With his father never home and always flying passengers across the country, maybe she's just as horny and sexually frustrated as he is. A sexual fantasy that he routinely had when masturbating himself, he'd like to think that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. With those sexual thoughts in mind, not ready to take no for an answer, he persisted in his need to bed his mother. If only seeing how far he could go with her and how much he could get away with, and if nothing more than fodder for his masturbation session later, he made his sexual desire for her clear.

Only, careful in how he approached her, as if she was rigged with explosives and in the curvaceousness of her sexy body, she was wired and ready to explode his brain with sexual desire. He wondered what she'd do if he reached out and touched and felt her breast. He'd like nothing more than to cup her bra clad breast in his hand while French kissing her. Would she allow him to touch her and feel her or would she push him away again in the way that she did when he tried to French kiss her?

Taking his sexual seduction a step further, he wondered what she'd do if he reached out and fingered the obvious erect impression of her nipples through her nightshirt and through her bra. Would she allow him to feel her breasts while fingering her nipples nor would she slap his hand away? With his mother having beautiful C cup breasts, he's always been enamored with his mother's tits. What did he want to do for his birthday? He love nothing more than to feel her breasts, finger her nipples, see her tits, and suck her tits.