This story contains explicit details concerning a consensual, loving sexual relationship between a mother and son.
If any of this offends you DO NOT READ any further.
The following story was given to me for posting by B. Traven who does not have USENET access. It is part of a series of stories never published before that supposedly describing true case studies investigated by Dr. Traven. I'm not completely sure that Dr. Traven is not pulling my leg, but I'll let judge for yourself.
Dr. Traven is very interested in any comments or criticism on this story. I will be glad to forward any messages about this story to Dr. Traven, but note that it may be a while before he is able to respond since he is still on sabbatical in Mexico. I may post more of the Dr. Traven's stories, depending on Dr. Traven's wishes and reader responses.
Dr. Traven has released the following stories:
1) Taboo I 2) Hot for Hillary (Rodham Clinton) 3) Mother's Milk
This story is Dr. Traven's first in a year and a half. There are quite a few stories (or case studies as Dr. Traven calls them) that have not been released to the public yet. What's the holdup? First of all I need Dr. Traven's permission, who is not always the easiest person to get hold of. Second of all, I can not scan most of the stories because they are handwritten in Dr. Traven's chicken scrawl. Transcribing all this material by hand is not easy. Even worse, some of the older dog-earred manuscripts are even written in German. My high school German is a little rusty, and I'm quite sure my German vocabulary does not extend to some of the terms used in these stories! If you are interested in any of these stories please email me, and I'll see what I can do about releasing more.
*** Copyright (C) 1996 B. Traven
My Mother, My Slut by B. Traven
She sipped on a cup of tea as she read the newspaper with dreary eyes. She He looked up momentarily as he planted himself on the couch next to her.
"Hi," she said in a throaty voice. She met his eyes and a look of confusion came over her face before she quicky looked back down at the newspaper.
"Hi." She didn't see his wry smile.
He reached his hand at her front. His fingers found an opening in between two buttons of her blue pajama top.
He heard her make an audible gasp as his fingers entered the softness under her pajamas.
His fingers traced the soft curve of her left breast until they found the hardness of her nipple.
"No." she said in a hoarse whisper.
He cupped the heaviness of her breast in his palm at he playfully squeezed the nipple between his thumb and index finger.
"No. I don't want to."
His cock peeked out from the folds of his pajama bottom.
"No? You don't want to?" He pinched her nipple harder. "You don't expect me to believe that - do you, Mom?" With his other hand he reached for a button on her pajama top.
She looked over to him with wide, moist eyes. "Please, Mark. It's not right." Tears welled in her eyes. For a moment - just a moment - her act almost worked on him. She was good, very good, he thought.
He opened a button with one hand, while still cupping her soft breast with the other. He moved downward toward the next button.
"Ah, Mom. You always play this same game. But it always ends the same way - or rather _your_ end ends the same way." He chuckled as he opened another button.
"Let's face it, Mom." He twiddled his index finger playfully on her nipple. "I love you, Mom, but you're ..." He put his lips against her ear and whispered intimately, "... a _slut_."
"Look at you, Mom." He undid the last button and opened up her pajama top. "You pretend to sip your tea and read the Sunday paper. But you sit here with your tits hanging out." He slapped her left breast lightly, causing it to jiggle. "What am I supposed to do - you tell me! - ignore my hot, sexy mom who shamelessly exposes her big tits to her son?"
"B-but it was you ..."
"Oh, quit pretending. You weren't saying that last night. Or the night before. And I don't have to bring up last Saturday, do I?" He ran his hands over his mother's now-exposed breasts. "Oooh, Mom." He reached for the snap at her pajama bottom. "You're such a slut." The snap opened with a metallic ping. "You're such a hot slut mom. A sexy hot slut mom. So ... sexy." He planted a kiss on the side of her neck as his index finger probed the moistness between his mother's legs. She carefully set the cup of tea and the paper on the end table. Her movement caused her legs to open further. She gasped as he drove his finger up his mother's pussy.
"You know you're a hot, sexy slut mom. Don't you?" He moved his finger up and down in his mother's moistness." "Say it."
Her heavy breathing turned into panting.
"Say it. Say: you're a hot sexy slut mom."
"Ahhh..." she moaned anxiously.
He teased her earlobe with his tongue. "Say it, Mom." He bit down on the earlobe as he shoved both his thumb and his index finger deep into his mom's pussy.
"Oooh..."
"Say it, Mom."
"I'm ... a ... hot ... sexy ... slut ... mom."
"Just what I've always suspected, Mom." He kissed her full on the lips. His mom's heavy breats flattened against his chest. He could feel her body tremble under him. His tongue probed her mouth.
He reached under her and slipped his hands under the back of her silky pajama bottom. His mother's fleshy butt was warm and smooth.
He pulled away. She looked up at him with pleading, hungry eyes.
He felt his cock throbbing painfully. They both wanted it - needed it - badly. It was an obsession, an addiction. He could take his mom right here. It would be quick and hard. In his mind he could hear his mother's anxious moans as took her from behind as she leaned against the kitchen table. They would come together as they had so many times in the past. It would be so good - but it would be over too damned soon as they laid together on the hard linoleum floor exhausted and slick with each others persperation.
He looked down at his mother. Her bare right tit was hanging out from the open front of the pajamas. Her nipple was crinkled with excitement as she looked up at him with questioning eyes.
No. It would be too easy. It would be too easy for both of them to give into urges, only to be left empty and exhausted after a few fleeting moments of pleasure. No, there were other ways of lovemaking between a mother and a son that they had only recently discovered.
He smiled. "Get up, Mom." Her mouth was open and slack.
"Get up." he repeated more firmly.
His mother stood up and clutched both sides of the front of her pajamas protectively over her breasts. Mother knew how the game was played.
He yanked her arm away hard.
He laughed heartily as his mother's now-exposed breasts jiggled.
"I think things have gone a bit beyond modesty. Don't you think, mother?"
He grabbed a handful of his mom's right tit and squeezed. It was soft and full.
"We both know that you're a hot, slut mom. Don't we?" He heard a low moan from his mom's throat. It was working. As it always did.
"A hot slut mom," he repeated as he pinched her nipple. He felt his mother rocking her body slightly.
"And just what is a son supposed to do when he has a hot, slut mom?" He pinched her nipple harder. His mother gasped loudly.
"Tell me. What is a good son supposed to do when his mother prances around bare-assed. What is supposed to do when his knock-out gorgeous mother teases him for years?" He switched to her other breast.
"Tell me, mom. What was I supposed to do? Jack off in frustration behind closed doors? Tear myself apart with guilt about the feelings I had." He felt his cock brush against her hip.
"Ohh, Mom. Life can be complicated sometimes. A boy has to get in touch with his feelings. His feelings. His feelings for his sexy-bitch mother."
The fingers of his left hand found the elastic waist of her pajama bottom.
He let go, and stepped back from her. With her heavy boobs and wet, pouty mouth his mother was a wet-dream come alive. His wet-dream. She was the demoness that possessed his fantasies for so many lonely, frustrated teenage years. And now she was his. Forever his.
"Take the rest off, Mother." Her liquid blue eyes met his with an expression that was both vulnerable and defiant. Without taking her eyes off of his, she removed her top with deliberate slowness. She let her top fall to the floor, and stood before her son topless with a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. She arched her back slightly, causing her breasts to rise higher.
She knew the reaction she was having on him. She was daring him, egging him on, trying to gain the upper-hand in their role playing. But he wasn't going to let her win. Not yet.
"How about the rest, Mother? Or do I ....," he smiled, "...have to do it myself."
She just stood there predictably, and waited.
"Oh, Mom you make things so hard on yourself."
"I thought you were the one that was hard," she teased.
He felt a hot flush of anger for a moment but chocked it back down.
She started to turn away as if to run. When he caught the waistband of her pajama bottom above her rounded ass.
"I TOLD YOU, MOTHER. TO TAKE THEM OFF." Instead of just pulling harder at the waistband to pull the snap loose, his left hand reached for his mother's pajama-clad ass. She squirmed playfully at his touch. Instead of fondling his mother's ass through the pajama pants he wadded a handful of material in his hand, and yanked downward.
"Hey!" his mother yelled in anger as she heard the ripping sound. He was bemused to hear the same serious, scolding tone that he heard as a kid. He hadn't heard that voice in years. He grinned.
She looked behind her. He was still clutching the thin fabric of her pajama. A rip exposed a small section of his mother's bare butt.
"I told you, Mark, when we started this ..." she continued in the same scolding tone, "that I didn't want any more of my clothes wrecked. You still haven't paid me for that lingerie you promised to replace when you ..."
"Hey!" she squeaked as he violently ripped downward, exposing most of his mother's big, rounded ass. "Goddamit, Mark, I said ..."
Slap! The twin cheeks of her butt quivered as he slapped her hard with his open palm.
"Mark!?" She said in a weak voice.
