Peecest - It's Incest with Peeing

All characters engaging in sexual acts are over 18 years of age.

Mum always got drunk at weddings, this time it was her second cousin or something. It was a few weeks after my 20

th

birthday. I actually still didn't know the bride's name, but we were on the way home, giggling drunk, so it didn't matter now.

I'm an only child, dad left before I was born. It's always been mum and me. I'm Danny, tall, shy, awkward, and a little weird, many would say. I always saw mum as friend as well as parent, I've been closer to her than any other human being. She's Elizabeth, medium height, light brown hair like mine, hers is long and curly at the ends. I've always been fascinated by her body: slim thighs, generous hips, tight bum, and neat, tight breasts that would fill a large man's hands. In our inebriated state, I was telling her just that:

"Seriously mum, in that dress you're as hot as any of them." Long, slinky, navy blue, low-cut, tight... That dress turned heads all afternoon.

"Oh go on with you! Really?"

"Mmm Hmm! Jeez, if you weren't my mum..."

"Hah! If I wasn't your mum I wouldn't be so uncomfortable."

"Huh?"

"Cos I need a pee really badly and I'm frightened I'm gonna have to do that in front of my own son!"

"You have before."

"That was an accident."

I was enjoying the tease: "You mean you were tipsy and pissing in the pool and you thought I was at work!" I saw it in my head again. It was no mere lazy pee under water where nobody sees -- mum had stood on the side of the pool, pulled her bikini aside and was splashing a stream in the water, giggling to herself so hard that her stream went all over the place. It gave me a hardon then, and many times since when I thought about it. I'd let her almost finish before I coughed loudly. And here's the curious part: She had looked at me, still pissing although with less force now, and said: "Oh, you're home." She didn't cover up or try to hide for three seconds, minimum. And it wasn't the first time I'd seen her pee in strange ways and places, just the first time she'd known about it.

And now here she was, and I felt sure she wouldn't make it home.

"I dare you to do it again!"

"You wish! Jesus, Danny. Did I raise a pervert?"

"You see, I reckon you like being watched. You had a big grin all over your face when we danced and the bride's brother was ogling you. You even wiggled your ass at him."

"I did not!"

"Yeah you did. And as for that time in the pool... well..."

"Well what?"

We were shuffling along with our arms around each others' waist. "Well, let's just say I don't reckon that little game you were playing, having a naughty pee, was the first time. Was it?"

She spun in front of me, tilted her chin up in defiance, and said: "Oh yeah? How would you know?"

I whispered close to her ear: "Because I've seen you."

"When?"

"A couple of weeks ago when you peed against the tree in the back garden." She gasped in amazement, but without reproach. "And that time you squatted over the flowerpot with the orchids in it."

"Danny McKenzie!" She whispered now too: "Just how many times have you perved at me, young man?!"

I whispered also, but my voice cracked: "Every chance I get."

Her face got serious for a moment while she digested that. Then she turned, grabbed my hand and we walked in silence for a few more meters, then she stood in front of me again. "So, you're right. I like being watched, and I like to...um... have naughty pees. OK, we're drunk. But, here goes. I haven't told any man this because I am scared they'll not understand. But... I think you do, don't you son?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"So, would you like to watch me pee, son? Here, now?"

I gulped out just one word: "Yes."

We were beside somebody's fence. She looked around, nobody was near, and she reached under her dress and wiggled her panties off. She gave them to me, still warm, and I nuzzled them. I didn't yet recognize the delicate fragrance of a woman's pussy, but soon I'd know it very well.

After a last look around, mum hauled the hem of her skirt up and exposed her pussy to me. She had wispy blondish hairs, through which I saw the vee between her legs and a slightly opened slit. She bent her knees and pushed herself forwards, instantly a spurt of pale yellow pee jetted onto the wooden fence noisily, splashing off it so hard that my shoes got drops of it.

Instantly my cock rose uncomfortably in my suit pants. I knew mum was watching my face but I was transfixed by the sight and sound of her piss show. It left a large, dark mark on the grey palings and a little puddle developed in the dust below them. My first ever pussy, and my first ever piss show, and it went on and on. Mum giggled nervously, looked around again, peed some more. Eventually the stream weakened, faltered. Only then did I look at mum. She was blushing, flushed, and smiling like only mothers can.

We trotted away from the wet evidence giggling like naughty kids, then mum pulled me into a bush in somebody's garden. She whispered: "You know what I do after I have a naughty pee, baby? I touch myself. Because it turns me on. Danny honey, I'm burning down there now, because I did it for you. Knowing you were watching, and getting hard, made me... Baby, touch mummy's pussy? Huh?"

Like a robot with no free will, my hand went under her dress and upwards between her smooth parted thighs.

"Oh yes, baby. Feel how wet mummy is? Ooooh. Sroke it slowly, baby. Mmmm. Put two fingers.... Oh! Yes, like that. Inside me. Oh baby. Yes, I'm gonna cum already..."

I didn't care if anybody saw us. My cock ached in its prison but my fingers folded easily inside mum's sopping wet pussy. She leaned on my shoulder, bit the shoulder pad of my jacket, and trembled against me. I didn't know for sure, but I figured she'd had an orgasm.

When the shuddering finished, she was breathing heavily. She looked up into my eyes. "Oh, Danny. That was so nice. Thankyou baby."

She squeezed the bulge in my pants. "Let's get this home so we can give him some air."

It felt like every step we took sent us backwards. Those few minutes were like hours. I had no idea what would happen, I only knew I wanted her to... do... something. Anything. To relieve the pressure in my balls.

Our front door opened, we went inside. Half way down the hallway, away from any windows, mum stripped off her dress and bra. I still had her panties in my pocket.

"You like mummy's body, honey?"

I threw off my jacket and almost tore buttons off my shirt in my haste. My pants I dropped to the floor. I matched her dirty talk: "You like my stiff cock, mum?"

"Oh yes, baby."

Half a second later, before I realized what had happened, mum's wet mouth covered my cock. Immediately I felt a boiling in my loins. She knew it too, and kept bobbing her head back and forth until I could stand it no longer and exploded cum onto her throat. It was short, desperate, urgent, my first ejaculation with another person, and that person was my own lovely mother.

Looking down past the hairs on my stomach, mum was licking her lips and smiling up: "Oh wow, baby! Did watching mummy pee turn you on so much?"

"Yeah, and making you cum. That was hot."

"Mmm, I loved it. I wanna pee again though. What would you like me to do, baby?"

I didn't need to think for long: "Do it here. Now, on the floor."

She stood and planted her thighs wide apart. "OK baby. Here it comes..."

A spurt, a small stream, splashing off the floorboards and all over her feet. I watched it cascade for a few seconds, and my cock went to half-mast again, but behind it my own pressure was building from the amount I drank too. As mum's pee turned to drips, she said: "I dare you, Danny. Do it. Piss on me."

I gripped my shaft and let go. First I hit the inside of her thigh, then aimed better and pissed at the spot she opened with her fingers -- where I guessed her clit would be. After a few seconds she fell to her knees and I drenched her tits. She stood, turned and bent and I put my cock against her pussy and pissed some more. She was moaning softly, playing with her clit, and I needed her. Urgently. I had barely finished pissing when I shoved my three-quarter hardon into her. She braced against the wall but didn't stop me, so I fucked her. I fucked my mother hard, inexpertly, awkwardly, my rod hard and straight. The boiling in my loins was happening again, and guiltily I made up my mind to cum inside her because that would be total and complete incest and I might never have another chance.

I grabbed her hips a little harshly and pulled her back hard. My foreskin was pulled way back in her hot tunnel so my sensitive knob was immersed in her heat and it was enough. My thighs shook as the pulsing of my cock spewed my cum inside my mother, quickly, spurt after spurt, and suddenly it was done.

I stayed there, panting over her, my cock twitching. Such heat, such wet open softness. If only I could stay hard and fuck her like that forever.

Eventually my cock flopped out. She sighed at the loss, then turned, kissed me briefly. "Don't hate me tomorrow, darling."

As if a light had gone out, I gathered my clothes and she cleaned the floor. We put on slouch clothes then silence reigned and we didn't lock eyes. Then I thought I heard her sob and my heart broke.

"Mum? Mum?"

"Sssh, honey. I'm OK."

"Are you sorry for... what we did?"

"Yes. It was wrong."

"I'm not sorry."

Now she did look into my eyes: "We're adults and we know better. Jesus H fucking

Christ

Danny! I just let my own son fuck me!"

I covered the distance between us to hug her. She tried to push me away, I held on tighter. Now she did cry, onto my shoulder. "What kind of mother am I? I got drunk and ... peed.. and then you fingered me... and then...oh god I can't even say it."

"It was fantastic, mum. Yes, we're drunk. But not very. I mean, well, what if we just needed to lose our inhibitions to let it happen?"

"It shouldn't have happened and it can't happen again. Ever."

She pulled away from me. I spent that evening wondering if I should go to her, and that night I was torn in half-sleep between guilt and burning lust. I didn't know how, but I would have her again, her and her pee fetish.

Morning broke. I don't know women but I know my mother and as soon as I saw her in the kitchen I knew she was going to try to pretend last night didn't happen. I stood behind her and craned my neck to kiss her cheek, like always. This time she stiffened, froze. I felt sick. I mumbled something like: "Fine. I get it." Then I went back to my room and sulked for another hour.

Mum came in. Her red eyes told me she'd been crying. She sat on my bed, I tried not to meet her gaze.

"Danny, I'm all over the place with this. What I did was wrong. You're my son."

"Who says it's wrong? It was fantastic. And you enjoyed it too. Am I right?"

"Oh I'll go to hell but yes Danny. I did. But look, I'm hurting son. Because... Oh my!" She looked to the ceiling and new tears blurred her eyes: "Danny, I'm torn. Aren't you?"

"Torn between not wanting to hurt you and wanting to do it again? Yes. If that's what you mean."

She lay beside me and sobbed on my shoulder. "Danny, I want you all to myself. But I've had a marriage, a child, and you haven't had that chance. And we can't be, y'know, a

couple."

I stroked her hair. I think I felt her heart beating against my ribs.

"Mum? I don't really care. And I'm not a kid, and I'm not drunk. No! Your turn to listen. Think about it. The pee thing -- who else we gonna trust with that? Huh?"

She sighed. She didn't argue, so I said: "That's what made me lose control last night. You too, I bet."

"Well, I guess so."

She got off the bed, I knew better than to push the point as she left.

Things were normal for a few days. It burned me up that I wanted to break the ice and start again but my tiny mind could not find a way. Luckily mum found a way for us. I guess she'd been looking for an opening, too.

We were in the back yard weeding the vegetable patch. I stood, stretched the ache away, and said: "I'm going to the loo. Back in a minute." Mum pushed her hair over her sweaty brow and said: "Oh! I sometimes just, y'know, go here. In the garden." Her face was matter-of-fact but her eyes were like a neon sign for me to read. My heart raced. She knelt an arm's length from my feet. I pulled off my gloves, dropped them in the grass, and faced her. Mum sat back on her haunches, her knees pushed her cotton dress slightly apart, and she leaned back on her hands.

With a slight tremble, I unbuckled my jeans and pulled the zip, then fumbled my cock out. Mum looked at it, then at me. I only said one word: "Where?"

Mum's impish smile remained. She looked down at her own breasts, then back up at me. It took me a few seconds to relax, then out it came, hitting her chest and soaking her tits. Soon the fabric of her cotton dress was a soaked, crinkled mess clinging to her, and her stiff brown nipples were visible through it. Her right hand went between her legs and I saw it move, fast, as she frigged herself.

My cock began to grow, but I'd emptied my bladder on her before it got to full size. My evil selfishness came to the fore again like it had when I'd spewed my cum inside her that first time without warning. I lay her on her back, right there amongst the cabbage seedlings, pulled her panties to one side and entered her roughly, holding my shaft straight with my other hand supporting my weight above her. Once inside, I let my weight down on top of her, partly to fuck her, and partly to stop her getting away.

She whispered into my ear: '

Is this what you want, baby? You want mummy to be a piss slut for you?'

"Yes."

"Okay, baby. It's okay... Fuck mummy, darling. Fuck mummy's pussy."

I felt my own pee soak back through my t-shirt and pulled it off. Still inside mum, I pulled her sodden dress off her too, awkwardly, since we were lying in the dirt together. Mum was naked under me. I lifted myself on straightened arms and watched myself fucking her. I saw my cock enter, come out glistening, enter again. I saw her tummy pulse as she panted, watched her tits jiggle and sway with my thrusts. And I watched her eyes, her smile, her lust developing, until she was fucking me back and breathing hard, gasping now, and then shuddering out an orgasm.

Nothing was said. I watched my mother's face tighten in orgasm, then clear into afterglow, then rise towards climax again. She looked deep into my eyes, bit her lip in a proud grin when she felt me rise too, then she actually giggled as she came, and I came in grunting squirts inside her. As this urgent little fuck passed, I lay on top of her, and even as my heart thumped against hers, I said: "I don't want to hurt you, mum. Not... like a slut."

"I know, baby. It's a game, for you and me. Y'know? We can play a

lot

of games..."

I'm married now, first child on the way. My wife Ellie has no idea her husband fucks his mum. And it always, always starts with piss.