My Gay Son

I wanted him home, it was as simple as that.

When my eldest son told us that he was gay the reaction from my husband and younger son was one of disdain. For me it wasn't quite as devastating, in fact I half expected it.

All through my pregnancy I had been told that I was carrying a girl. When I gave birth to a little boy it came as a shock. All our preparations had been for a girl, it was in my mindset. Eighteen years later I was blamed for raising my son as a daughter, and thus him being gay. It was nonsense of course, Simon had always been somewhat effeminate and I had treated him with a gentleness that my husband and later my younger son found strange, if not annoying, but I hardly treated him as a girl!

When he decided to train as a nurse I supported him, in spite of objections from the rest of the family. It was during his training that our relationship grew somewhat strained. I could tell that his love for me was growing far stronger than would be considered normal for a son towards his mother. When he was at home I was forced to remind him on more than one occasion that my bedroom or bathroom door was closed for reasons of privacy. I was conflicted, if he had been a girl I would have welcomed him (her) into the room, but as a boy, it bothered me at times. But, maybe not as much as it might have? I eased off chasing him from my room if I was in my underwear, and even took my time asking him to leave the bathroom if I was in the shower, but it was fairly obvious that he was pursuing sexual feelings towards me.

Immediately he qualified he left. Australia had been advertising for male nurses; he took up the challenge and left, with barely any notice. Once he was on the other side of the world we were actually able to have meaningful adult conversations, albeit via the internet!

For the next four years we talked via email and occasionally video chat. I needed those conversations. Shortly after Simon had left, my life changed. I became little more than a servant to my husband and younger son. I got up on the mornings and made their breakfasts, I made them a pack up lunch, did the housework and prepared the dinner. Occasionally, though rarely, my husband wanted sex, wham bam, thank you mam! Two minutes if I was lucky!

Other than talking to Simon my life was a drudge.

Simon had eventually admitted his feelings for me, classic Oedipus complex. He told me that the last couple of years at home had been torture to him, his brother and father had made his life miserable, and my continued rejection of his ill managed and thought out sexual overtures towards me had been the deciding factor in his leaving.

With thousands of miles between us it was easy for our conversation to become more adult, and even explicit. He expressed his love for me, I told him I loved him. Our messages included requests for pictures, I sent some, he did the same. The pictures became selfies, the selfies became more daring, lingerie, then topless, and eventually even nude. Sending my son nude selfies was a huge turn on, and in reply he sent the same, he was cross-dressing, and made a remarkably good looking girl, he had a male friend who helped him with his photography. Some of the pictures were very explicit, featuring both him and his partner, he obviously took the female role in their relationship.

The few nudes I sent him were, I thought, quite tasteful, but some he sent me were definitely not, seeing pictures of my son naked and erect did upset me at first, but I soon became immune to them. I drew the line at his request for a full open crotch selfie, a tasteful nude was one thing, a full pornographic picture was something else entirely. Our conversations were sometimes explicit but light hearted, so in that same light hearted way I tongue in cheek told him that if he wanted that sort of picture he would have to come home for a live show.

I thought no more about that particular conversation, it was, after all, just one of those 'off the cuff' remarks, but in the back of my mind I was desperate for him to come home. I missed my eldest son, I even missed him 'accidentally' walking in on me getting dressed or even in the shower. In spite of having my husband and younger son at home I was a lonely woman. My younger son worked with his father, so they were both out of the house most of the time, and their treatment of me was getting worse. I wasn't being abused in any way, I was simply being ignored, I was just like a part of the furniture.

Then came that single email conversation that more or less changed everything. It was my birthday, and my family at home hadn't even noticed. They must have stopped at some garage on the way home, I got a bunch of wilted flowers and a small box of cheap chocolates. Late that evening I was on the email with Simon.

Simon...Do you really want me to come home?

Me...You know I do!

Simon...What about dad and Geoff?

Me...They want to see you as well, it's been a long time.

Simon...I could get about a month off, so I'd be there for about three weeks, but I'm hesitant.

Me...Don't be hesitant, please come.

Simon... Big question.... If I come home do I get that live show you suggested?

Me... (after a brief hesitation) Yes.

Simon... Mum, will you have sex with me?

Me... ( After a longer hesitation) Yes!

Simon... Mum, I'm serious

Me... If you come home I'll sleep with you.

I'd done it, I'd promised to sleep with my own son, whether anything would come of it only time would tell. But I thought to myself that if having sex with him was the only way of persuading him to come home then so be it, I'd have sex with him!

Six weeks later Simon came home. His welcome from his brother and father was cordial, but I thought a bit restrained. My welcome was a lot more enthusiastic, but being in sight of the others was also tempered with restraint. We had a meal out at our favourite restaurant and on getting home had an early night.

I watched my husband and younger son drive out of the end of our road next morning with a feeling of relief. There had been no arguments or signs of bad feelings, all had been peaceful. As I stood looking out of the window Simon came up behind me and put his arms around me. I leaned back into him as he pushed a hand inside my dressing gown and cupped my breast.

"Are you going to keep your promise?"

I didn't answer in words, instead I took hold of his hand and led him to my bedroom. I was wearing only a nightie under the dressing gown, I'd been preparing for this moment for weeks, I just hoped I could go through with it the way I had planned it.

I let go of his hand and backed up to the bed. He stood and watched as I first dropped the dressing gown to the floor and then swiftly pulled the nightshirt over my head. I was naked in front of my son. Now was the moment of truth!

Taking a deep breath I sat back on the bed, leaned back and lifted my legs high and wide, giving my son an uninterrupted view of my by now quite wet vagina. This was the show I'd promised him, an uninterrupted live view of my freshly shaved pussy. I reached down and using two of my fingers spread my labia for him to see me wide open, and empty, what I realized I wanted next was my son's penis to fill me!

"Oh mum, you're beautiful!"

I heard his knees hit the floor, then felt his warm breath on my open sex. The first touch of his tongue on me had me shivering in pleasure, it was like an electric shock!

I was orgasming in seconds, and he was lapping me up like a cat at the cream, I don't think I had ever gotten so wet, I was being eaten out by my son and was loving every second of it. His tongue licked round and around my labia then plunged deep into me, licking my insides. Then he sucked, and found my clit with his lips, My fluids were pouring from me as I fought to stop myself from having some sort of seizure as my whole body vibrated.

I don't know how long we did that, but I was so sensitive that even his breath made me come! Then I watched as he stood back up, quickly dropped his clothes to the floor and displayed his hard penis. I'd seen it in his selfies and other photos, but the real thing was quite different. He was long and thin and slightly curving upwards, he looked to be as hard as steel.

When he leaned in over me I took hold of him and guided him into me. I was right about him being hard, he was harder than any cock I had ever experienced. There was no resistance as he slid fully into me, I was incredibly wet as he started to fuck me.

The feeling of being used by my own son had me having orgasm after orgasm. I pulled myself up by his neck so that I could watch his cock sliding in and out of my more than willing pussy. Without warning he burst inside me, wave after wave of hot fluid sprayed my cervix as I gave vent to a loud scream of pure ecstasy!

That was the first of three times that day that I found myself having sex with my son, and the first day of twenty that Simon and I took every opportunity to do the unthinkable, once, twice, three times a day we had sex. For a man who declared himself gay, he was unstoppable when he got me naked. And not necessarily naked! We went out visiting local beauty spots, and if the opportunity arose we would slip away into a quiet spot and be very daring! In the toilet, in the bushes, behind a tree, we'd give it a go, even if it was just a quick blow job! I don't know what had happened to me, I was like a teenage nymphomaniac, I couldn't help myself, I wanted sex morning noon and night, and I got it from my son.

Once my husband and younger son had left for work Simon lost no time in fucking me. Often as I watched the van pull out of the driveway he was already lifting the back of my clothes to gain access to me, I didn't wear underwear deliberately for that purpose. We had sex in literally every room in the house, in my bed, in his bed, in the shower. Even out in the back garden. Fortunately we are not overlooked by the neighbours.

It had been a good twenty or more years since I'd given a blow job, but suddenly I found I needed to suck, even deep throat my son's penis. Late at night, after my husband had gone to bed, I had no qualms about Simon touching me, even masturbating me in front of the TV as we sa sat and watched some meaningless programme.

My first ever go at anal sex was in those three weeks with Simon. The fact that he was long and thin meant that with just a good dab of lube my son was able to slide his steel hard penis into my anus with just as much ease as he had taken my vagina. I'm addicted, he can have my ass any time! And strangely, I can have his he says, all I need to do is get a pegging set, I've never done such a thing nor even thought about it, but as my son likes playing a female role maybe I should give him what he wants.

By the time Simon returned to Australia I think I had had more sex with him than all the sex I'd had in thirty years of marriage.

My plan to visit Simon at his home for Christmas is hopefully coming to fruition, my husband and Geoff have already stated that they can't take the time off work to go with me, which is just as well as Simon says he's planning to take me to certain clubs that he knows where same sex, and incestuous couples are accepted and encouraged. He says we can visit these clubs openly as mother and son, and just as openly display our affection for each other. Simon has a partner over there, a male partner, and I've even promised to join the two of them doing anything they ask of me.

I can't wait!

Four years later.

As I cycled towards my son's home I contemplated what I would find when I got there.

Simon and Jason had come back to England about six months after my visit to them in Australia had ended. In Australia I had kept my promise, not only to my son, but to myself as well. That visit had opened my eyes to a new way of life, and I had fully embraced it.

I openly accompanied my son to gay bars, openly flirted with him, and Jason, his partner. Back in their apartment I had sex with both of them, individually and together. I became my son's and his partner's total whore, I did anything and everything they asked of me.

Now back home my way of life had changed. I still made my husband's meals, and once in a blue moon actually fucked him! Geoff, my younger son had finally moved out and was living with his girlfriend.

Simon and Jason lived in a little cottage five miles away. I went to their home two or three times a week, more when it was convenient for all three of us. Simon's days of serious cross dressing were more or less over, the make-up and lingerie in their house now was for my use, as were the various dressing up outfits, maid's uniform, nurse's uniform, business woman, dominatrix, slut! I could be all of those things and more, I no longer had any boundaries when it came to sex.

Simon had sent me a text to say that there was a new outfit waiting for me at their place, they were both at home and expecting me. Where any kind of sex life used to be a thing of dreams, sex was now a major part of my life, the fact that I was having sex with my own son just added to the excitement.

Arriving at the cottage, I kissed both young men hello, and went into the bedroom to find my new outfit. I'd seen this sort of thing in porn videos, but not in real life. The outfit was a set of interlinked leather straps, it couldn't be called clothing at all. Fortunately there was a fitting instruction leaflet. When fully donned, I found myself wearing straps around my legs, in three places, around my thighs and hips, around, but not in any way covering my breasts, and around my upper arms and neck.

Back in the living room I found the floor covered in a plastic sheet, overlaid with towels. Jason was laid in the middle of the floor, naked and sporting a huge erection. My role in this scenario was obvious, as it always was. I mounted my son's boyfriend, riding his cock with gusto and great plessure. Simon approached and offered me his lovely erect penis, which I sucked into my throat with equal pleasure.

I knew where this was leading, it had become our 'thing' recently. Two minutes later I was filled to capacity, with Jason in my vagina and Simon in my ass. I loved this, I had become a total sex slave to these two men, a fully fledged slut, and I couldn't get enough of it.

Of course it didn't stop at me having sex with these hot young men, I also now enjoy watching them have sex with each other as well, as well as being part of their sexual activities. I never in my wildest dreams ever imagined being on my hands and knees being penetrated from behind by one of my lovers while he at the same time is being penetrated by the other one, but it happens, quite often, as does my being fitted with a strap-on to peg whoever is available.

Life has changed in oh so many ways. I love my life now, a thing I thought would never happen.