Youthful Cravings My Forbidden Mom

I didn’t think I was normal at first, and not for a long time after that. I mean, boys don’t fantasize about their mother, do they? Well, I didn’t think so at the time.

It started about as soon as I was old enough to do it. It’s not hard to imagine why. She was a young boy’s ideal; an intoxicating combination of warm smile, sweet smell, and full breasts.

The pictures that turned me on were the ones that resembled her in some way. Maybe just the color of their hair resembled hers, or they looked more like women than girls. The girls that turned me on were almost always curvy. I was always proud that she was my mother, especially when the other guy’s eyes widened when they saw her.

We always got along and I thought she was a good mom. She worked hard, but she never threw it in my face. I hardly ever asked her for anything after reaching my early teens, because I knew she would get it for me. We didn’t have a lot of money but somehow she would work enough to get me what I wanted. That’s probably why my first sustained sexual fantasy was one in which I did ask her for something.

She‘s sitting at the breakfast table and there’s nothing complicated about the way it all unfolds. I walk in and say something like, “Mom, you look so beautiful, would you do something for me?”

She says, “Of course sweetheart, what is it?”

I say, “Would you take off your top for me so I can see how beautiful you really are?”

She smiles and says, “Oh, what a sweet thing to say to your mother.” She unbuttons the white shirt with little purple flowers that she usually has tucked into her jeans, from the top down. She then pulls it open like a curtain. My mother isn’t wearing a bra and she exposes those wonderful breasts to me. “Is this what you wanted, honey?”

It isn’t hard for me to imagine the smile that graces her face because I’ve seen it so often. In my fantasy, her smile says, ’I’m proud of the way I look, and you can touch me if you want to.’ I step close to her and put my palms on the full flesh and then slide them down over her nipples. I feel them harden as I lightly tease them erect. I lift both breasts and bend to kiss her. As we kiss, with her tits in my hands, that’s all I need. Of course I never actually did any such thing but I did think about that and many other possibilities until she was practically my only fantasy.

As I got older and went through high school, there was a change in her. I could almost see the joy seeping out of her. I couldn’t imagine what her inner life was like at the time, and I never understood the depth of her feelings until she talked to me about it. In a sense, that’s what brought us closer together.

I had come to some understanding of what I felt about her, thanks to a special place on the internet, and a person named, ‘Lovey.’ I didn’t fight it anymore, and I knew I couldn’t force it, so I accepted it, for the moment. Even if it didn’t take the form I wanted, Mom and I had a loving and warm relationship when I compared to the ones my friends had with their parents. We talked all the time, but we’d never really had a meaningful conversation that touched on who we were inside, until Graduation Day.

It was late when I got home after celebrating with my friends and she was still up. She looked so sad sitting on the couch. She was obviously not watching the TV that was on because the sound was too low to hear anything. I said, “Hey mom, what’s up?” Then I noticed the tear rolling down her cheek. I said, “What’s wrong; are you okay?”

She looked like she was trying to say something but nothing came out, except for more tears. I sat by her, confused, and she hugged me. I held her for a moment and I tried to get her talk. “Tell me mom…it’s all right…did something happen with Brian before he left?”

I knew that Brian was going overnight on business, because he said so after the graduation ceremony. Brian was the guy who had been living with mom for about a year. He was a nice man as far as it went and I’d never as much as heard him raise his voice to my mother. In fact, it was always,” Yes Christine, sure Christine, of course Christine.” And actually, I found that strange, because even though I didn’t have a lot of experience with women, I would call my girlfriends, “Baby,” or “Sweetie,” like my mom called me; but all he ever called her, was Christine.

“No, it’s not Brian,” she finally said. She stayed in my arms and started talking softly. “It’s just everything…Its Auntie Pat, I spoke to her and she’s sick.” Pat was just about our only relative, mom’s Great aunt who lived about 150 miles north of us. She ran an antique business that had more junk than antiques, but she was a fun lady and we’d visit a couple of times a year.

Mom was sniffling and said, “And it’s me... I feel like my life is over…you’re going to be leaving soon and as far as Brian goes…well, I don’t like to admit it to myself but I think the main reason I got involved with him was just not to be alone…but there’s nothing there…there’s nothing anywhere.” She got quiet again.

That was the most my mother had ever told me about herself. I almost didn’t know what to say. I was holding her and she felt good in my arms; she felt good against me. “Mom, we can go visit Auntie Pat and it doesn’t have to be Brian, it could be anybody. You’re great looking and you could have any guy you want. I would love to find a woman like you.”

There was a soft snicker. She pulled back and smiled enough for me to see the dimples I’d almost forgotten she had. “Thanks baby, but the truth is that I’m almost forty, and starting to fall apart.”

As far as I could see, lots of women would be happy to ‘fall apart’ the way she had. “Why is it so hard…so hard…” she asked into the air. The tears started to fall again, and this time, I was possessed to hold her arms and kiss her face.

I just wanted to console her. “It’s okay mom, it’s going to be okay.” I kissed more of her tears away and she kissed me back. Before I knew what happened we were kissing on the lips. At that moment, you couldn’t convince me that the earth wasn’t flat, because I fell off.

I thought that reality was about to replace my imaginings and my heart started keeping time with those Irish dancers. I was afraid to believe it. With my eyes closed, for a moment, I thought that maybe it wasn’t happening; maybe I was kissing a voluptuous girl named Christine. I reached for her breast and began to fondle it. It felt larger in my hand than I imagined.

Most of the clothing mom usually wore hid the fullness of her breasts; there was no hiding anything as I massaged my mother’s big tit until my hardness started to strain.

I said, “Mom, you feel so good; you’re so beautiful.” She didn’t say a word but I could hear a small moan in her throat as we kissed and I felt her.

It went on for about a minute and that was long enough to send a thousand thoughts through my head. One of those thoughts sent a picture to my mind which had me on top of her, miraculously, inside her. Then she broke the kiss and said, “No baby…no…I’m sorry, it was my fault.”

“Mom…” that was all I could say before she ran out of the room and locked herself in her bedroom.

I tried to talk her out but all she would say was, “No honey, I’m okay, just go to bed.” There wasn’t going to be any miracle that night.

Everything was strained and strange between us following that incident. Mom was more quiet than usual, and whatever room I was in at a given time, she seemed not to be in. It didn’t stop me from thinking about her.

The most vivid fantasies are usually the ones triggered by reality. In my case, I came home one day and mom was exhausted and asleep on the couch. My first thought as I looked at her, was that I wanted to hold her and kiss her and tell her I loved her.

I got aroused looking at her. Her blouse was still buttoned, but because it was pulled, I could see in to a rounded portion of the white bra and that held her breast. One of her legs was raised enough so that her creamy thighs were exposed up to her panties. I couldn’t see her pussy, but I could imagine it.

It doesn’t seem like much but I watched her for a good long time and it was enough to send my imagination into dozens of scenarios for weeks. In most of them I would hold her legs up and couldn’t even wait to get her panties off. I’d pull them to the side and my cock would just sink into her pussy. Of course when she realized that I was stroking inside her, it would feel so good…etc. etc.

The next step into reality confusion we took a while later. I had come home late and wanted to tell her something. Brian was away and I could see that the light was on in her bedroom so I knocked at the door and said, “I just want to tell you mom that I won’t be coming home tomorrow night because I’m going to the lake with John from work.”

She said, “Come in honey.”

She was sitting up in bed reading and she had a loose fitting nylon nightie on. I couldn’t see through it, but the top was low enough to see the flesh of her boob bubble up when she moved. “How come you’re going at this time of year?” she asked.

“They’re having some kind of festival and the club is opening and we thought we’d just get away…meet some people.”

She laughed, “And hopefully, some of those ‘people’ will be girls, right?”

“I guess.”

“Well, have a good time, I’ll miss you.”

She must have just bathed because there was a faint fragrance of powder coming from her and when I said “Goodnight,” and bent down to kiss her cheek, I could feel the heat rising from her body. I stayed by her face and knew I should probably shut up but she looked so good to me, so I said, “Mom, you’re a terrific looking woman.”

I heard her breathe, but she didn’t say anything. I gave her butterfly kisses on her face and neck and she said, “Honey…”

I reached in and took one of her breasts in my hand as I continued the little kisses. It felt satiny from the powder. Without squeezing, I fondled it only with my fingers, letting the tips glide over the smooth flesh. My nail crossed the nipple and I could feel its length when I rolled it gently between my fingers. She was breathing hard.

It wasn’t long before she took my hand out of the gown. She said, “Sit down baby.” I sat by her on the bed. “Honey, we can’t keep doing this; it could lead to something we’ll both regret. Mattie, I know you don’t mean anything bad, but we have to get back to normal…we have to, okay?”

I said, “Okay, we’ll get back to normal,” even though I had no idea what that was. I said, “Goodnight,” again and spent one of those nights where I couldn’t find a position that would let me sleep.

After that, we talked as if we were polite strangers, when we talked at all. I worked most days and was going to school at night to learn researching for law firms. So the only time we saw much of each other was on the weekends. Then all of a sudden she was working some Saturdays. The next thing I knew, she said, “Matt, the company wants to put me up at a hotel in the city so I can work the weekend instead of Mondays and Tuesdays. It’ll mean more money so I’ve decided to do it. You’re okay here by yourself aren’t you?”

I said, “Sure, mom.” what I really wanted to say was that I’ve rather spend the weekend with her, in bed - not something a son usually says to his mother.

By that time, December had whitened the streets and I felt cold inside and out. I started to wonder again if I had talked myself into a feeling that was so nuts it would make me miserable forever. Even the look on the face of the Santa Claus who was collecting on the corner seemed to say, “What the hell are you thinking, man?”

Mom had asked Brian to leave and I wasn’t seeing anybody special. I spent a lot of time online with people who understood what I was going through and that gave me stamina to do something. Anything was better than what was going on. On the Saturday night before Christmas, I spent an hour on the train and showed up unannounced at the hotel where she stayed. I knocked at her door and when she heard it was me, she said, “What’s the matter…wait a minute.” When she opened the door, she was finishing tying the robe that was two sizes too big.

“Honey, what are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you mom,” I said. “You can’t keep running away from me.”

“What do you mean…I’m not running…?”

I came in far enough to close the door and I put my arms around her and kissed her. She didn’t fight me. She pulled back long enough to say, “Oh honey, we can’t…” I kissed her again. I undid the sash on her robe and put my hand inside. She had on a white bra and panties. I unhooked the bra and the sweet flesh spilled into my hands. As the robe fell around her feet, I reached for the light switch and flipped it down. There was enough light coming from behind the curtains for me to see that she was moist when I pulled down her panties.

I led her to the bed and as she turned onto her side away from me, I undressed as I looked at the sensuous curve her hips and ass made. I pushed her hip down with one hand, and her body straightened onto her back, but her face remained toward the wall. I opened my mother’s legs and brought my cock to the opening. My first penetration was gentle but incomplete. I hadn’t slept with that many girls, but a few of them had complained that my size made sex uncomfortable for them. I didn’t want to hurt my mother.

I gently pressed in until almost all of me was inside her pussy. I stroked in and out. It felt so good, and then my urges and concerns all hit me at once. I wanted to go faster, and slower, and harder, and softer, and deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

I heard her whimper and I wasn’t sure if it was because she was crying, or it hurt, or it felt good. Against every instinct and urge, I became still inside her. I said the last thing I really wanted to say, “Mom, do you want me to stop?” She didn’t say anything. After what seemed to be an eternal minute, I felt her hips start to move under me.

She started softly moaning as the rhythm of my sex going into hers became synchronized with our movements. Even though the events leading up to me being where I was seemed real and comprehensible, the result was not. I was inside my mother’s pussy, with her wetness all around my cock, and we were having sex. No, it was better than sex. Well, better than any sex I’d ever had.

My mother wrapped her legs around my back and that took me deeper into her. By then my whole cock was penetrating her pussy with each thrust. At the conclusion of each deep entry she made an “Mmmm…” sound that combined a short cry with a breathy release. I had no doubt about those sounds; I was pleasuring her.

That spurred me on and as I penetrated somewhat harder and faster I said, “Mom it’s so good…nobody could ever be this good for me…I love you mom.” She didn’t say anything and it bothered me for a fleeting moment until I re-focused on the physical connection. With each stroke she clenched as I withdrew, as if she was trying to hold me inside her, and keep me there between her legs. It was tight enough to make it feel as if her pussy was milking my cock.

I could hardly believe that my mother was letting me do what I had fantasized over for so long. I took one of her breasts and started sucking hard on the nipple as my thrusts took us both higher. Her sounds were getting higher pitched and coming closer together. I was hoping she could come soon because I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.

I raised myself a bit and she unclasped her legs. I held her by her ankles and spread her legs wide apart. She looked so sexy in that position I almost came right then. I watched in fascination as some of the pink inside her pussy moved in and out with my penetrations. Her mouth now was opened in a wide silent ‘O.’ I began giving her all I had as my unstoppable orgasm approached.

It hit me at that helpless moment that I was about to come inside my mother’s pussy and I wasn’t wearing a condom. I didn’t know if she was protected and it flashed that I could possibly make my own mother pregnant. I said in an almost panicked voice, “I’m coming mom, I’m coming.”

As if she were reading my mind she said, “Yes, come inside me.” The only other words she said as she began to thrash were “Oh God…oh God…” over and over. I penetrated and fired volley after volley of cum into my mother’s pussy. The feeling of those releases was something new. It surprised me how hard my cock remained and how many times I penetrated deep into mom’s belly to let go what I thought would be the last stream of seed I had in me. They kept coming. I kept coming, and mom kept coming.

When it was over, she turned to her side again and buried her face in the pillow. I spooned into her with my wet cock on her ass and held her around. Neither of us said anything for a long time. The only sound was that of the occasional kiss I would plant on her back as I held her trembling frame.

We both slept very little and intermittently. Each time I woke up I wanted her again, but she had put on the robe while I was asleep and the most she would let me do was hold her. In the morning when I awoke, she was sitting on a chair and staring out. I couldn’t get more than a sound that signified ‘yes,’ or ‘no,’ out of her. Finally I asked her if she wanted me to leave and she said, “Yes.” it was like someone walking on my chest.

We finally talked about it on the following Monday night. I had spent the day half-heartedly looking for an apartment. I really didn’t want to find one. She said, “I can’t stop thinking about all this Matt, but I realize now that I have to apologize to you. I don’t know how I let it get that far but there’s only me to blame. My God, I’m your mother; I’m the one who should be responsible…I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you…” Her eyes started to fill.

“Mom, I wanted to do it, I wanted you, and I love you.”

“No honey, you don’t understand. You’re just a boy… and you have strong desires, and they blind you, but I should know better. I’m your mother. I’m so sorry baby. Listen, I want you to talk to someone, someone who’ll help you understand and get over this thing.”

I almost let my smile become a laugh. “Mom, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a ‘boy’ anymore; I can actually drive and vote and…” I caught myself from getting too sarcastic and said seriously, “And I don’t want to talk to anyone except you. I don’t think we did anything wrong, and you don’t know how long I’ve thought about it. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted be with you like that.”

“Well, you’re still my boy…and people don’t do this kind of thing…it’s just not a normal thing for you or me…it’s wrong for a mother and son to…” She was becoming agitated

I started talking softly and she relaxed a little as I spoke. “Mom, that’s just not so. There are people who can love like that, yes, mothers and sons. Mom, we’re not the first and not the last. I’ve been dealing with it for a few years now so it doesn’t even seem strange to me anymore. I’ve thought about it, read about it, and done something about it.”

“What do you mean Matt?”

“It’s an internet thing,” I told her. “There’s a site that I found after going through mazes and circles and dead ends. It’s a place where people like us talk to each other. It doesn’t say anything about incest in the title and it’s not public like they’re trying to sell stuff or anything. It’s just the people who get there mostly by word of mouth. They help each other to understand and deal with what they’re going through. Mom, will you take a look at it with me? It helped me to accept who I am and what I want, whether I get it or not. Mom, I’m not trying to convince you to do something you don’t want to, just to understand it.”

“Okay Matt, I’ll look at it, but please, not today. I have to…I don’t know, just not today.”