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Fantasy, Incest


Horny Florida mom has fun with her son

by Oediplex 8==3~

A Romantic a' clef: For images to keep in mind while you read this google Courtney Cox; or better yet, check out Diane Webber for nude photos, or email me.

The Situation

She was old enough to be his mother, but she looked ten years younger. He was old enough to go off to college, but still seemed a youth as he returned home at Christmas time. His mom looked at him and saw her boy. He looked at his mom and saw a beautiful, sexy woman with open arms for him. She greeted him with a hug. He loved the feel of her breasts against his chest as she embraced him. She felt the solid member that rose in his pants as she clasped him tight.

It reminded her of the night before he had left to go to the University. The night she had . . . they had . . . she blushed remembering, and at the feeling of arousal in her loins the recollection stirred. Her son was also thinking of that night and the wonderful events that had happened between them. He was certain there would be the same chemistry and similar results during this visit.

The Night Before College

He was wearing only the silk boxers she had given a month ago on his eighteenth birthday. She was dressed in a long over-sized shirt that was made of a clingy fabric which left little to his imagination. Though he knew she had to have some kind of panties on underneath (she would never be that audacious with him around). Still, he could fantasize about her being sans undies. This was ironic, because all through High School he had been embarrassed by his mom's vibrant sexuality.

She had her occasional lovers over, one was a neighbor no less. She had made the top of the town MILF list with her publicity for her decorating business. Her signs had a sensual image of her with low decolletage and the slogan, "Paradise Palms Interiors: Your Inner Beauty Made Visible". But her exterior was definitely gorgeous, his protestations of her scantily clad body at home, or her private scandalous behavior were merely defensive cover-ups to his latent attraction to his mom.

The last night of August, before his dad drove him to the University, it was sweltering. Humid, steamy and the air-conditioner was on the fritz again. His father might have tried to fix it if he were around, but dad lived on the other side of town and was likely keeping company with a tub of iced beer and bedding a hot bar-babe he had picked up. He hoped his pop wouldn't be too hung-over to get a start on the road by mid-morning. It would be a drag to arrive at night when the dorm was already getting into party mode and he still had to unpack.

"Trent!" His mom's sultry voice called up to his room and interrupted his thoughts. "Come down , so we can spend our last night together. You're not going to see me for three months. I've got your favorite beer in the fridge, Hon!"

He walked down the short flight of steps from the split-level where his room was. As he descended, his mother, Julie, waited at the bottom. From that angle he could almost look down her half-unbuttoned shirt and see the full curve of her ample breasts, nearly to the nipples. She was holding a can of suds with one hand and her ever present wineglass in the other. Jeez - her nips poked out like the adjustment knobs on an old radio he used to have. His cock twitched as he thought about tweaking those twin protrusions. The sweat that drenched her torso from the tropical heat, was making the fabric partially translucent in patches. His male organ grew fatter at the vision of - yes, a 'mother-I'd-love-to-fuck'.

There he admitted it. Not that he thought there was any chance. Trent took the dripping can and clacked it to her stemware of vino as he declared, "Here's to us tonight, mother and son; no fights, no feuds, no fuss and no fu . . uuhh . ." (Shit! he almost said no fucking! 'Freudian slip dick-brain', he mentally chided himself) "and no father to be a wet blanket." Trent saved the moment from being awkward. His mom knew what he meant by that, their relationship was sometimes strained by his pop's butting in where he didn't have any business being involved. But since she had kicked her big ape of a spouse out for his philandering ways, the paternal parent was less of a monkey-wrench; not that his 'tool' was any less promiscuous than some primitive primates. Now they were closer than ever, his mom and Trent.

"Yeah!" Said Julie, "Just the two of us, alone and intimate - I mean no interference, by the old man." (Was that a Freudian slip on her part, he wondered.) "Lets have a dance, let's party hardy, it's too damn hot and we don't have a pool, the AC is shot and I'm going to miss you - sooo muuchh, Babe! I mean Trent, I know you hate that nickname."

"It's all right mom, tonight you can call me Babe, or Honey, or any of those silly names that you use. Its our last night for a while and I know you love me. There's no one to hear you mush, so I won't get embarrassed. I'd love to dance with you. What shall I put on the stereo? Something to rock to, or a mellow piece?"

"Its too muggy to do much exercise, let's just sway and go slow - okay?"

The teen put on a selection of his mom's favorite romantic tunes, not his generation's, but tonight he'd cater to her tastes. He set down his beer and took her glass (after she gulped the last sips down) and they assumed the standard position for ballroom Terpsichore. Trent put his hand in the small of Julie's back and held her firmly to his body, trying not to let his dick stab her in the crotch but enjoying the buttons of her double pillows pressing against his chest. After a moment, Julie lay her head on his shoulders and he realized that he had grown to a height that he was now as tall as his dad. He had always thought of himself as smaller than his mom, but now he was lanky, and muscular and 'manly'. The perspective gave him a sense of having matured and he truly had become 'the man of the house'!

If he was as rangy as his father, he was also as randy as his pop too. A nice combination of his dad's handsome surfer good looks, and his mother's beauty queen attractiveness, he had inherited their strong sex drive as well. Trent had done a fair amount of dating. His girlfriends were always pretty and oft succumbed to his attempts to get into their panties. No virgin he to enter college a tyro, though he made sure to use protection if needed, many of the gals he dated were already on the pill. As he contemplated his maturity and experience with the opposite sex, he idly wondered about his mom, he figured she was on the pill. Did she have undies on tonight? He tried to discover whether she did, or didn't, by putting a hand low on her hip. He felt no evidence of anything underneath her shirt.

They glided around on the hardwood floor, a small space but enough for a few steps. Much swaying in place made the time they clung to each other sweet long moments. Julie whispered in his ear. "Trent, Darling, don't get flustered and pull away - but . . I feel your member against me. I have to ask you a question." Her arms tightened around him in a hug to hold him next to her. He didn't resist her clutch, but was a bit flustered all the same, as he had forgotten to not let her discover his arousal. "Do you . . (she paused) . . find me attractive, like you do the girls at school or at the beach? Tell your mother the truth for once, what you honestly think . . . and I'm not fishing for a compliment, I really want to know. Do you think I'm sexy? Trent . ." her breath was warm in his ear, her tits were hot on his front, her voice a seductive tone he had never heard her use with him before.

"Trrennt . . Dearest, do I turn you on? Would I be on your MILF list? Do you fantasize about mommy?"

"Jeez . . mom!" He pulled his head back to look at her, but her arm held his body tight in a clench.

"Well? Its okay if you do - I think you do - but I want to hear it from you. After all those years growing up in this house and acting like you wished you didn't know anything about my sex life; much less my healthy body and good looks - if I do say so myself - what is the truth? You're going to be away from your old lady for quite awhile and you're all grown up, a man now - twice the man your dad is, and every inch the stud he ever was in his prime. So tell me - just exactly what do you think of your mom?"

Trent looked into Julie's eyes as blue as the deep ocean, put his hand under her long raven locks, then put his face right next to her stunning features and nearly touched her luscious rosy lips as he spoke. "Mom, you are the most beautiful, sexy, wonderful female I have ever known. And yes, I get horny thinking about your body and what happens in your bedroom with guys. I'm a bit jealous that they have the opportunity to show you their lust, but I can't 'cause you're my mom and I'm not allowed to fool around with you; even though I do fantasize about it sometimes, especially when I hear the noises from down the hall when you're screwing. There are you satisfied, is that what you wanted to hear? It's the truth and it comes straight from my heart and groin."

He ground his hard-on against her lower belly and pulled her even firmer to himself with a strong hand on her backbone and pressed his lips to hers. When she did not resist his amorous moves, nor pull away from his kiss, even thrust her hips to better have his meat mash her pudenda; he made bold to insert his tongue into her mouth and they passionately Frenched. Her hands dropped to clamp on to his tight muscular buns. He reciprocated by the same move so that his fingers spread and encompassed her soft fleshy globes. He felt no panty seam, so she was either wearing a thong - or could it be? - nothing at all!

The moment seemed to last an awfully long time, the temperature was like the middle of a fire, they could burst into flame at any time it seemed. His cock was like a big match, the red knob the part that was going to scratch and ignite. The kettle was going to boil over, the whistle - her scream of ecstasy; as the cauldron of her sex was blasted by the exploding geyser of his . . .

Julie broke them apart. Like the dividing of suction cups being unstuck from one another; a powerful connection that needed robust and brawny forces to overcome the intensity of the clinch. She was panting, wild-eyed. His lungs heaved to suck air for oxygen starved lungs. He looked at her wondering if that was it - it was over and done, the moment ended and had he, had they, gone too far? Was she regretful, come to her senses? What was she thinking right now?

Julie gasped, "TOO HOT!! This fucking damn weather is too damn fucking hot." She seemed to be talking fast, speaking more rapidly than normal, to try to break the strain of the previous moment's heightened erotic tension. As if 'too hot' were more about the sexual heat they were feeling than the thermometer. "I'm going to melt into a puddle of goo right here. I need more wine, get the jug, it's in the fridge, I'm having sangria tonight. Bring a brewsky for yourself."

Julie continued, "How can we beat this heat? I'm dripping all over, I've soaked through this shirt! Why don't you fetch the fan from my bedroom when you've brought the drinks, the ceiling fan is on full speed but hardly seems to provide any relief. Can you come up with any ideas how to cool down? Fucking goddamn air conditioner anyway, shit!" Reluctantly, not wanting the contact to end, but obedient as usual, Trent left to do his mother's bidding; wondering if in a little while he might once again be enfolded by his mom's amorous hug, and if that might possibly lead to more.

Recollection and Reflection

She held the cuddle of her welcome home embrace, her mind going back three months to the moment of that first French kiss between them. She had been overcome by the heat of the moment; as much feeling faint from their blistering sexual desires as the broiling temperature of the tropical night. She had not meant to end their first dance of romance like that, but just to come up for air, both literally and figuratively.

She had not expected things to get that intense so quickly, but she had accepted it as a natural intimate point of contact between a male and female. It was the release of the growing tensions that had been developing over the years of his youthful maturing and her developing liberation. The mutual attraction, despite the taboo nature of their lustings, had finally overwhelmed them both.

What was going to happen next? That was what she had wondered back on that night of incestuous bonding as Trent went to fetch fan and refreshments. She was more sure of what would happen during the time of their present reunion. It would be a uniting once more in naughty urgency, horny intimacy; the sexual engaging of their bodies together in secret privacy; a satiating of their needs, interrupted by their separation, so long anticipated physical fulfillment.

That eventful eve of months ago was the gratification of their love on a carnal level, which had been building to a climax (ironic term that) which turned clashes into clenches, confrontations into comfortings, and companions into paramours cumming together. But while they had been cohabitating all those years, now they were separated due to his education. Just when the incest had happened, the schooling had inserted distance to their relationship. At last, now they were together again. She held him tight tonight and they kissed, with tongues and thrusting hips communicating sinful stirrings, and longings which could wait no longer.

The Night Before Grows Even Hotter

Trent brought in the pitcher of Sangria for his mom, the glass jug already beaded with condensation on the short trip from the kitchen. He had chugged half a beer and it along with a second occupied his other grip. He set everything on the end table on some magazines, make shift coasters, and with the open can bounded up the steps to retrieve the fan from his mom's room. As he was unplugging the appliance he looked over at her bed, the sheets pulled up neatly. He briefly fantasized the two of them squirming together in squishy screwing, Julie squalling as he made her cum with his ramming cock in her cunt. Then he was rushing back to the living room, nearly tripping as he tilted his head to finish off the cool drink.

"Easy Tiger!" his mom admonished, helping to steady him from the stumble. She took the fan, set it on a chair and plugged it in. After adjusting the setting to high she stood in front and let it blow directly at her torso. She held open the sides of her shirt for better ventilation. The angle of where Trent stood was excellent for the titillation of viewing her right breast and the brown rosette of the half-dollar size nipple topped with a pink gumdrop. As she bent into the breeze her bun-cheeks were exposed half way and nothing but her tan line was showing. Trent's erection again tented his silk shorts. He made a move to get angle on her ass after a last peek at her pert tit. But as he took a step she turned toward him.

"Well, what do you think?" The question she purposed seemed too ambiguous for his brain to formulate an answer, he was momentarily confused. Was his mother asking about his liking the glimpse of her nipple, what he thought about the shape of her ass, the experience of the erotic moment of earlier . . . what was she referring to? She stood there, the damp shirt clinging to her skin almost transparent from her perspiration. Jeez! What a beautiful woman she was, and he was alone with her. Her hair a dark lustrous mane of silky waves made slightly more curly from the humidity. The long legs of sculpted pillars went from delicate feet to shapely calves to narrow thighs to a shadowed region which the fabric of her (only?) garment gave a sexy mysterious allure to.

"Well, what do you think?" she repeated, "How can we beat this heat? Any ideas, . . (pause) . . any . . ideas . . at all . . humm?"

It was a dumb idea, well it was obvious really, but she would never go for it . . . or would she? Then a second idea also came to him, and that would go along with his proposal as motivation for the first suggestion, and he also had the perfect lead-in to the strategy. Brilliant! You couldn't just blurt out - 'get naked' - too crude; too rude, like what dad might spout, the insensitive lout. But if he reminded her of when she did the same trick for him, back when she was being motherly . . . ? It just might possibly work. Nothing ventured - etc.

"Well, remember when I was young and had a real high fever?"

"Yeah, you were burning up even though it was January. We were worried that you might have to go to the hospital."

"But I didn't, because the doctor recommended that I lay on the bed and you bath me with cool washcloths, every fifteen minutes. You did that for over five hours."

"I was so glad when the fever broke finally."

"Lets get some wash-rags and put them in ice water. Then used the damp cloths to wipe each other down, that ought to help."

"You were nude on the bed back then, remember?"

"Yes, and going naked now would help the evaporation to cool us down, with the fan blowing on us."

"Smart kid - I see why you're going to college."

"It's just basic science."

"Well," said Julie with a smile, as she began to undo the few remaining buttons that were left on the lower part of her shirt, "I think you'll get an anatomy lesson that they don't teach in biology class." She had finished with the unfastening, but held the garment closed for the nonce. "You first."

Trent didn't hesitate, she was going for the idea! He dropped his drawers and out popped his stiffy as the shorts slid to the floor. He looked at his gorgeous mom as she slowly opened the sides of her covering. Her son's eyes were focused on her middle as the triangular patch of pubic hair made its appearance, like the curtains parting to reveal a star performer. NO THONG! the song rang in his brain like a gong, no panties, no undies of any sort; nothing but the finest fur of pure pussy!!!

Eventually his eyesight rose to the twin mounds of his mother's mammeries, the left matched what he had seen earlier of the right. Like a Venus statue in the museum, but in living color and loving display and with luscious lasciviousness, this divine lady who was his own Madonna of MILFdom, stood unashamedly completely unclothed before him. His penis was stone hard, a phallic statue of flesh turned petrified by the beauty of his companion and the eroticism of the moment of their mutual nudity.

"Trent?" He realized with a start his mother had called his name twice before he had heard her. "You go get the washcloths from the linen closet and I'll get a big bowl of ice water. Okay?" His voice didn't seem to work, which might have been just as well he thought, as at best he would have emitted a squeaky sound, his voice cracking from the nervousness he felt. He comically backed up the stairs never taking his eyes off his naked mom. Julie made a concerted effort not to break down and laugh as she watched him exit, then she zipped to the fridge, and once out of sight and earshot just had to giggle. But none the less, she realized that her lubrication had dampened her crotch from looking at the rigid member her boy - no, a man now for sure! His stalk was fully grown, and fully turgid too!

She remembered, but wondered if he did, that even when she had given him the sponge baths for his fever, he had gotten boners. That was a secret joy for her to observe, and even rub with the cloth over the swollen muscle. It had gotten her so horny that the very memory had been a fantasy turn-on for many years. Was that why she was a 'cougar'? That lusting for younger men, a reflection of her aroused reaction to her own son's erection? That might explain it, aside from the fact that younger guys could be harder, and last longer, and cum more often, and were more adventurous in bed, with more energy and attractive bodies. Demi Moore knew that, and other gals were onto it too. Colette's novel "Cheri", recently made a film with Michelle Pheiffer, was about an older woman with a younger man. Julie remember reading that it had been written even before Colette had her affair with her own stepson!

Trent and his mom met back at the living room. She set the bowl of water, with a whole tray's worth of ice cubes floating in it, on the glass-topped, square coffee table. Trent tossed in the four clean squares of terrycloth. He poured more wine for his mom and opened the beer waiting for him from earlier. They sat on the salmon colored couch, (thankfully well Scotchgarded, Julie mused) their bare feet on the cream colored rug. Trent in a playful mood, but still some what keyed up, touched his mother on the arm with the cold can.

She let out a shriek at the unexpected sensation. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't so kind." the prankster said.

Julie chuckled and nodded, "Thank God you didn't do it down at my ass, like you father used to do. I banged my shins on the table top from jumping straight up a couple of times. He wasn't being mean exactly, but he knew that I really didn't like to be goosed with an icy can, yet he still got a chuckle from doing it. I got even with him one day, he was barbequing on a Sunday afternoon a few years ago; I grabbed his belt and poured a huge glass of ice tea down his pants. We had the neighbors over too. It was hysterical seeing him dance with the ice cubes in his pants freezing his nuts. He finally just turned his back and dropped drawers to shake them out, then pulled up his pants and went to change.

"What did dad say when he came back?"

"Oh he has a pretty good sense of humor about things and doesn't take himself too seriously. When he returned he said it served him right, but if I wanted to get laid that night I'd have to thaw out his hotdog. She took one of the wet rags and wrung it out. "Here let me start with you."

But as she was doing Trent's chest he fished another from the bowl, squeezed most of the excess water and began to wipe his mother's face. Her cloth went lower and so did his. She brought hers down to his crotch and he swept his over her boobs. This was obvious as sexual as it was a way of beating the heat. They didn't speak except to murmur 'yes' and 'good' and 'mmm' as the pair began to bath each other. They would switch off the terrycloth for another in the chilled water. Trent took the initiative of working from Julie's feet up her legs and then right into her crotch, dampening the delta which was already juicy at her juncture.

After that she pulled her son toward her to do his back, and he did hers also, that way they were torso to torso, her ta-tas mashed against his pects. Their faces looking into each others eyes with love and lust and they began to kiss once more. Tongues went exploring and fingers caressed through the fabric on spine then tush, sides then front. By then the terrycloth had been abandoned and it was a field day for fondling the forbidden fruit of incestuous flesh, apples, banana, etc.; feeling the places that were once private, but now were freely explored by dexterous digits.

Then Trent slid down to the carpet and pried wide his mother's thighs. Julie moaned and surrendered to the oral administrations of her son's tongue.

Unwrapping Her Presence

Julie felt her son's fingers in the belt of her house dress, a simple wrap she had thrown on when she heard him at the door greeting the neighbors as he returned. Wouldn't they be surprised if they could see what was going on - or actually coming off, as the gown slid to the floor. Just her brassiere and panties were left. Had she had time, she would have divested these before meeting him in the foyer, but his nibble digits managed to popped the snap in the back easily. She switched from hugging to tugging, working the sweatshirt off his athletic frame. He slid his palms along her ass and his hands went ...

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