Mother's Guilty Pleasure -

I rewrote this story because I totally agree with some of the comments received. I normally wouldn't do this as I write my stories mainly for myself, but in this case I knew that I posted it before I had reviewed it thoroughly (Dammit!). While still not perfect, this rendition is now much closer to what I originally intended to share with you.

This story contains:

* Incest/Taboo.

* Perceived non-consent/reluctance

* Underage drinking.

*Perceived domination.

*Perceived sadism.

*Light masochism.

Feel free to comment on it.

Feel free to rate it.

The story is completely fictional.

All characters are over 18 years of age and are fictional.

Enjoy!

I'm not sure exactly how I should begin this story. When I think back on it, remnants of its true origins are scattered throughout my adult life. I guess I'll try to share it in a way that gives you a sense of who I am without writing my entire autobiography.

I am Laura, a 38-year-old woman who grew up in a small mid-western town in Iowa, where my family has raised corn for four generations. My parents were conservative, hardworking Christians as were theirs before them. We attended church on Sundays as my mother was a Sunday school teacher there. So, you see, what I am about to share with you goes completely against my true nature as a wife and mother.

When I was 20, I met and married Michael, a 28-year-old man from my home town. He was very handsome, smart, and ambitious. We soon moved to a larger city a hundred miles away as he was hired on as an executive at a large manufacturing company. One where I soon became a supervisor's assistant. There, in that town, we began our life together.

I got pregnant with Bobby, my son, in our very first year of marriage. Due to complications during childbirth, I had been left unable to carry another baby. Although we were devastated at the time, we were more consumed with our new beautiful baby boy.

As time passed, we lived our lives much the same way as I was brought up. We were conservative Christians who attended church every Sunday, where I taught Sunday school. We tried to shelter Bobby as much as we could from a world with rapidly changing values. He's been home schooled since day one. We lived in a suburb of the city in a nice home. I'd say those were happy times for us three.

As I look back, about the only thing in our lives that wasn't absolutely wonderful was... well...Michael's and my... sex life. There. I said it. Our sex life. It wasn't that we didn't have sex, it was just that Michael's ambitious ways didn't seem to include having a lot of sex, or at least, not as much of it as I would have preferred. The other thing... well... it's something that I didn't even realize at the time as I had grown up in a relatively sheltered life myself. Michael was small... you know... down there. Wow. Okay. I can't believe I said that. I mean, I knew I wasn't feeling satisfaction from him, but I still thought that he was normal, at least average, in that department. You know, each time I mention this fact, I feel so guilty. He was a good man... a great man even. In so many ways he was perfect, but I have always felt that I needed... just a little more in that one area of our lives. I'm so sorry I felt that way, Michael.

About two and a half years ago, we lost Michael in a car accident. Since then, my son Bobby and I have tried to make a life for ourselves. It's not perfect, as I have had to go back to work. I don't teach Sunday school anymore because we don't attend church as often as we used to, but we have managed. I still try to shelter my 18-year-old son somewhat as he finishes his final year of home-school. This is where the real story begins; the real reason I'm writing this story; the reason I'm sharing my feelings and my guilt about what I have done.

A few months ago, I was at the airport at about 8 o'clock at night, waiting to get on a plane for a short business trip over the weekend. Well, due to a nasty snow storm, the flight was canceled. The next flight out wouldn't be until the next morning.

I made my way home through the storm and arrived a short time later. Grabbing my bags, I walked into the house from the garage. As I was walking upstairs up to the bedrooms, I called out to Bobby, to let him know about my change in plans, but he did not answer as I ascended. Walking by his bedroom, I once again called out through the closed door. Again, no response. I continued to the master bedroom and dropped my bags, wondering what was up with him. I went back down the hallway to his bedroom and cracked the door open slightly to look in. I was thinking he was probably wearing headphones, listening to music as he sometimes does. Nope. He wasn't in there, so I went back downstairs toward the living room to see if he was there perhaps. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed movement outside the sliding glass patio door. It was Bobby, his back to me, looking like he was preparing to get into the hot tub. Great! I was thinking the same thing tonight on my way home. There are very few things better than hot tubbing in a snow storm. A glass of wine. The steam rising into the cold air. The snowflakes floating down around you making everything white... I was about to go out and tell him I would join him in a couple of minutes when I saw him slide his shorts down exposing his naked behind. Now, you must understand that my son is not exactly built. His body had not exactly filled out yet into manhood. Although he is tall at about 6'1", his body was a little, shall we say, underweight and almost completely hairless. There was relatively no muscle on him yet and his behind looked a little... skinny. I smiled as I saw his bony little bottom. He was still adorable to me. My adorable little nerd, I thought to myself.

He then turned to the side, tossing his shorts next to his towel. That's when I saw IT. The thing that started all of this. I can clearly remember it to this very moment. As Bobby turned profile to me I caught sight of his flaccid penis, or perhaps I should say, I saw his immense flaccid penis swing around the front of his body and slap his left thigh.

I just stood there, momentarily dumbfounded at the sight. I had never seen a penis as big as this. I didn't even know that penises came in that size! My first reaction was, well, he's going to make some lady very happy someday. Then suddenly I thought that I probably shouldn't be standing there, ogling my son's large manhood. I turned around and climbed the stairs, heading into my bedroom.

I flopped down on the bed thinking that there was no way I could go down and hot tub with him now. That would be... weird. That would just be... wrong! Well... I guess I could wait until he got in, so I couldn't see below the bubbling waterline and tell him to put on his shorts so I could get in too, but then I thought, if I do that, then he will know that I saw him naked and, at this point, I didn't want to embarrass him and make this an awkward situation. I think I'll just text him and let him know about my flight cancellation and say that I'm tired and have to get up early, so I'll see him in the morning.

I crawled under the covers and shut off the light to get some sleep before I had to catch my flight out the next morning. I did eventually get to sleep, but I slept fitfully that night. I remember waking up in the morning feeling extremely aroused and noticing that my, uh... womanhood was very wet. Wet to the point that my juices were dribbling between my thighs, wetting my bed sheets. I immediately thought of Bobby and what I had seen the night before. But he's my little nerdy son, I told myself as I got up to get ready to head back to the airport.

On my way out, I thought about waking Bobby to say goodbye. Since I knew that I would be seeing him the next day anyway, I thought it would probably be better to not wake him. I made my way to the airport and few hours later I was in my business meeting. As I sat around the table, my mind traveled back to the night before and the sight of Bobby's large penis. In my mind, I saw that giant thing in slow motion as it swung around his body and hit his thigh. Whoa! Wait a second! I shouldn't be thinking about that, I told myself. Good mothers don't think about such things. I... I should be ashamed of myself! And I was!

I caught my flight home that evening and soon I was walking into my home once again.

"Bobby, I'm home!"

"Up here, mom." he yelled back.

I carried my bags up the stairs and walked past his room, dropping them in my bedroom. I turned and walked back down the hallway into his bedroom.

"Did you have a nice day, sweety?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sure. I didn't do much. Watched a little TV and played some video games."

"You're only playing the games we talked about, right?" I asked.

"Yep. Just the ones we talked about." he replied.

"Good. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll go fix something for us. It's supposed to start snowing here anytime. Care to hot tub when it does?" I asked.

"Yeah, sounds great. I love tubbing when it snows."

"I know. Me too." I smiled.

When I called him down for dinner, he came to the table in a T-shirt and wearing the same gray shorts I had seen him in the night before. They went down to just above the knee and were essentially a thin, T-shirt fabric. I glanced down and noticed that he wasn't wearing any underwear as I could clearly see the bulge of his penis as it traveled down his thigh. I looked away quickly hoping he wouldn't see my wandering eyes.

We ate and talked as usual, watching through the window as the snow began. It started with a flurry before eventually turning into a blizzard, dumping heavily and building up quickly.

When finished, I went upstairs to change into my old bathing suit. It was a conservative black one piece suit that had a little padding in the breast and crotch areas to conceal any anatomy that wasn't appropriate for others to see. I walked back downstairs, grabbed a bottle of wine and glass and walked out to the patio only to see that Bobby was already in the tub, enjoying the snowfall.

I stepped down into the tub across from him and set the wine bottle and glass down before sitting to face my son.

"Can I have a glass of that?" Bobby asked.

"At your age? Not a chance, mister," I replied. It's sort of like a ritual dance we do, I smiled. He asks me that same question every time we hot tub.

The hot tub felt great on the cold stormy night. The snow was dumping heavily upon us while we sat in the hot bubbling water, feeling nice and toasty. We talked about his schoolwork and some of his future plans while laughing at some of his crazy comments. An hour and three glasses of wine later, I was feeling somewhat tipsy when Bobby spoke up.

"Well, I better get to bed, mom. I have an online algebra test in the morning." He stepped up out of the water and picked up his towel.

I simply sat there, sipping my wine and watched as he patted his upper torso dry. I tried to keep my eyes from looking down at his groin. I was a good mother and it would be inappropriate to look at him like that, I thought. The problem was, the more I resisted the urge, the more intense the urge became. I was feeling very uncomfortable with my thoughts at that moment, so I decided to reason with myself a little bit. If I just go ahead and look now, the mystery will be solved. Right? Then this feeling will pass. Right? It sounded reasonable to me. When my son brought his towel over his head to dry his hair, I stole a look at his groin area. The wet T-shirt fabric of his shorts now clung tightly to his anatomy, giving me an eyeful of his manly bulge. I could now see a clearly defined bulbous glans at the lower end of his long, thick shaft. I could even see corpulent veins snaking their way down its length. Wow! That... looks... delicious, I thought to myself...

I suddenly choked on my mouthful of wine, coughing out and spitting it everywhere, some even dribbling out my nose.

"Are you okay, mom?" Bobby asked.

I continued to cough and sputter for the next minute or so while Bobby dutifully remained by me, making sure I was okay. I was finally able to relax and began breathing normally again. My first thought was that I deserved it. What was I thinking? I shouldn't be ogling my son in that way.

"I think I'm okay now. Thank you."

I watched Bobby's slender frame make his way back inside the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. I splashed water on my face to wash away the wine still dribbling from my nose. Wow! I thought to myself. That was incredibly hot. I could not believe what I had just witnessed, nor could I believe what I was feeling. I had been sexually aroused by my own son! What is wrong with me? I've got to quit thinking these thoughts. They're... unholy! I'm going to be praying for forgiveness forever for this, I thought.

I stepped out of the hot tub and dried my own body. I made my way inside and up the stairs into my bedroom where I quickly undressed and got under the covers of my bed. I switched off my bedside lamp and lay there in the darkness, unable to get the images of my son's monstrous penis out of my head. I thought the reason for my... horniness had to be due to my lack of sex for such a long time. It had been years since I actually had sex with someone. Of course, I have masturbated. I mean, I have always liked sex, and lots of it, but actually doing it with someone else...

I tossed and turned trying to sleep, but I still could not shed those images. At some point, my hand unconsciously made its way down between my legs to my very wet vagina. I was rubbing the folds of my wet labia and working my way up to my clitoris when I suddenly came to my senses and yanked my hand away.

I ended up not falling asleep until the wee hours of the morning. When I finally did, I slept fitfully and for only an hour or two. When I woke up at around 6:00, I knew there would be no more sleep for me that morning. I noticed that, once again, my crotch was sopping wet. Wet to the point of soaking my bed sheets. I felt groggy, but also... very, very horny.

I thought about Bobby and wondered if he was awake yet. Maybe I should check on him. That's what a good mother does, I told myself. So I put on my 20 year old, ankle length, terry cloth robe, cinched up the belt, and walked down the hallway to his bedroom door. I quietly worked the handle and cracked the door open ever so slightly. There I saw Bobby's lithe body lying flat on his back, on top of his blankets. He was fast asleep, snoring slightly. What really caught my eye though was his... incredibly enormous erection! I suddenly felt something twitch inside of my stomach as I felt warm fluid ooze from my vagina.

I stared at his forearm sized monster, wondering. I was in awe of it, and to be absolutely truthful, wondering lustfully what it would be like to actually touch that huge monster. The shaft was so long that the giant mushroom head was nearly to his nipples. I thought momentarily about sneaking over and touching it, but quickly dismissed the crazy idea, knowing it was lust that was trying to control my body.

I stood, hypnotized by his huge penis for a good two minutes. The monster looked somehow bigger, somehow even meatier up against Bobby's thin fame and flat stomach. I just stood there staring at, what my husband used to call, morning wood. I finally compromised with myself and said I would allow myself to get closer to him, to get a better look, but... no touching! I quietly opened the door and walked quietly over to Bobby's bed. Kneeling down I peered at this absolutely beautiful erection. I brought my face close to it, smelling it. Then I moved even closer. I could smell it's masculinity, its virility. I could see every tiny vein cascading its shaft and ohhh, that thick, long shaft. It traveled from my son's nipples all the way down to his golf ball sized gonads. I could see that behemoth pulsate slightly with every heartbeat. It looked absolutely procreant! Oh god, What a beautiful, fertile cock that is!

There, I finally said it. I said cock. I know that it's wrong, but that's exactly how I was feeling at that moment. It wasn't a penis, a tool to urinate from. It wasn't a tool to just sire offspring. It was a cock, a long, thick, and incredibly beautiful sexual organ. It was meant to please women, and oh my my that organ looked... tasty.

Bobby suddenly stirred a bit and I quickly jumped up and stepped back outside the door. He then went back to his quiet purr. I looked back at him sleeping. I wonder what he's dreaming about. Just then the alarm clock on his phone went off. I panicked momentarily and closed the door a little more loudly than I meant to. I ran back down the hall to my bedroom and closed the door behind me, hoping that my son was none the wiser to my little spying escapade.

Wow, I was horny. I really need to cum... right now! I told myself. I flopped onto my bed, my hands quickly pulling my robe open. One hand immediately went to my vagina, my... pussy while the other went to my, uh... tits. Two fingers immediately went inside me, feeling my wetness. Oh god I wish I had a dildo at that moment. A big, long, thick pussy-wrecking dildo. My other hand was kneading my right breast, occasionally pinching my rock-hard nipple. My body began undulating, writhing on the bed. I was breathing hard. I needed this. I was desperate. I knew that my impending orgasm would still not be enough to quiet my longing for cock, but I needed to cum. My fingers pumped in and out out of me with a wet sloshing sound. I quietly moaned, not wanting to alert Bobby to my wanton activities. What I really wanted at that moment was to scream. To scream out obscenities as I came.

My fingers continued to delve deep into my... into my... pussy. Oh damn I was so close. My other hand came down and began roughly flogging my clitoris. That was all it took. My gut began to spasm. Fireworks began to explode in my head as my ass started thrusting into the air in my body's desperate attempt to force my fingers even deeper into me. More and more contractions flooded through me, spreading throughout my abdomen as my undulations continued to thrust my crotch up off of the bed. The intensity of my orgasm was incredible, possibly one of the greatest I had ever experienced.

As I slowly came down from my sexual high, I contemplated what I had just done. I had just become sexually aroused by my son... more accurately, I had just become sexually aroused by the sight of my own son's huge cock. I felt the guilt try to seep in, but, at that moment, I was so high on my orgasm, I dismissed those feelings as being secondary to the absolutely natural... instinctive... feelings I had been experiencing. After all, I wasn't just a mother, I wasn't just a wife, I was also a woman, a sexual being. A woman with needs.

My problem was... now that I'd seen Bobby's beautifully huge cock. My body wanted Bobby's beautifully huge cock. But I just can't have sex with my own son! Well... at least I shouldn't have sex with him...

I thought that I should get up and go shower to get ready for my day. As I walked toward the master bathroom, I passed by my full-length mirror and looked over. Whoa! I stopped and turned to look at myself. What I saw almost frightened me. Even though I was only 38, I looked like a 38-year-old woman going on a 55-year-old. When was the last time I wore makeup? Look at that hair! Look at that robe! It looks like it's from the 1950's! I suddenly realized that I had not even considered my appearance in a long, long time.

Ever since Michael died, I had been in 'get it done' mode. I needed a job to support us, get it done. I have to have the car repaired, get it done. Bobby needs a new pair of jeans, get it done. Perhaps that is what helped me get through the grieving process. I don't know. What I do know is, in the last 3 years, I had not thought about my appearance to the rest of the world. Maybe it's time that I should. I started to think about it. I actually do have to buy Bobby a new pair of jeans today. Maybe I'll just pick up a few things for myself.