I was perusing the internet one day doing some research for a phycology paper when my search brought me to Reddit. My topic was on adolescent emotional development, nothing too crazy, but as Reddit users know, once you open the door you quickly fall down the rabbit hole. Clicking here and there I was moving further away from my intended search and I saw a post that caught my eye.. “Doing research on Incest.” I couldn’t help myself so I clicked on it.. It went on to say that while there is an abundance of research on incestuous sexual abuse, this psychologist was looking for people who had been involved in positive sexual relationships with close family members, without any negative impact on either member’s lives. It listed his information and stated that volunteers would remain anonymous… I dialed his number.

“Hi is this Dr Smith?” I asked, “my name is Chris and I was in a sexual relationship with my mom”.

A month later he flew to New York to meet us. He would’ve come sooner but it took me weeks to convince my mother to do the interview. His requirements were that we had to meet in person, it had to be both of us, and we had to provide identification proving we were, in fact, mother and son. It had been almost 4 years since she and I had done anything… pretty much once I moved out it stopped. But naturally it wasn’t easy to get her to meet a stranger in person and tell him about how she used to fuck her own son. To be honest I’m not sure why I was so willing to do it, I’ve never told anyone else before, and she and I never talk about it.. But maybe that was it, I just wanted to get this big secret off of my chest.

Dr. Smith told me how he’s been having trouble finding volunteers to talk to him about their experiences. His biggest road block was his requirements, people had called him, but none wanted to meet or were willing to provide proof of relationship to their sexual partners. But I totally understood why it was necessary, any pervert could make up a story over the phone, or even tell it in person. They might even go as far as to have someone claim to be a relative.. All this would undermine the study, so up until this point we were only the second ones he’d met. The first were a bother and sister who had been sleeping together since they were teens and were now living as a couple in another state where no one knew them. But now there was us, and after showing birth certificates, IDs and even old family photos, we began to tell him our story.

“The first thing you have to know” I started, “is that it was a very gradual development…”

One year, just a week after summer break had started I broke both my wrists, arms, shoulders and collar bones in a skateboarding accident. It was horrendous! My entire upper torso was encased in a cast, with my arms permanently affixed out in front of me. I was hospitalized for a week and when I left I was told it would be a minimum of 8 more weeks until it was all removed. Back home my parents were very supportive and did all they could, but I was miserable. My dad worked but my mom stayed home, waited on me, rented me movies… but she also had to bathe me, wipe my ass, feed me and get me dressed, as well as help me get up and down, scratch my nose and hold drinks. It was annoying, frustrating and humiliating. My summer was effectively ruined, I couldn’t do anything with my friends, which made me not even want to leave the house, but at home I couldn’t even play video games or sleep comfortably… and it got worse! If you think it’s embarrassing to have your mom get you dressed and undressed or bathe you.. Try doing it with an unintentional boner! After just a couple days home it started.. She’d come in to help me get out of bed and I’d be lying there with a tent in my shorts. She was sweet and acted like she didn’t even see it, which obviously she did because she’d have to take my shorts down to help me take a piss in the morning, and as any guy can attest, peeing with an erection requires a little more force when aiming, that meant my mother had to grip my morning wood to point it into the bowl! She showered me with a handheld shower wand a few times a week and of course she needed to use soap.. well which areas got the smelliest on a teenage boy?? That’s right! And while she would be putting soap on me and rising me off I’d be sporting wood! The worst was when I’d get hard while she was washing me, giving the impression that I was turned on by her! Once again she acted like she didn’t notice but it didn’t help. All of this, made me not only annoyed but angry, and I couldn’t hide it! I snapped, yelled, even cursed at them for the smallest things.

“Hey Chris, what do you want to watch on TV?”

“I don’t give a shit what we watch!” was a common response for most questions I received.

This sort of behavior wasn’t allowed mind you, but what could they really do to punish me? I was essentially grounded already! They seemed to understand this, and realized that my lashing out was due to something else.. Even before I did.

One morning, after being home for a little over 2 weeks, my mom came in to get me out of bed. I was lying helplessly on my back, irritated in part because I was being woken up, and partly because I had another uncomfortable night’s sleep, but also because my mom was once again coming in to see her son rocking a hard on, and I couldn’t do anything about it. So naturally I was my usual cheerful self. I didn’t even look at her as she said good morning, I just stared out the window.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk.” She started, sitting beside me on the bed. “I know you’re unhappy and uncomfortable with.. Everything. So last night I was talking to your father and we decided that I should help.”

“Help? With what?!” I snapped at her, still looking out the window.

“Well.. With this.” She said, gently placing a hand on the upright bulge in my shorts.

“What!?” my eyes wide as I quickly turned to look at her. “What are you talking about?!”

“Sweetie..” She said, looking a little embarrassed herself.. “I’m not an idiot.. I grew up with brothers.. I know all about the.. long showers boys take” she said trying to save us both the embarrassment of saying it, “and obviously your father was a young man once himself.. We know what boys your age are doing” she looked up at my arms, stretched up in the air “and we understand that you can’t do it yourself right now, and it’s making you uncomfortable and irritable.”

I couldn’t believe what my mom was saying.. But what I couldn’t believe more was that I hadn’t realized it myself. I’ll admit I was a little late to the masturbation game, having only started doing it this past year, in fact it was over winter break, so only like 6 months ago. But like every guy once he discovered this new superpower, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. It was a minimum 2-3 times a day.. Morning, after school, bedtime. But while I’d been so preoccupied with the other facets of my incapacitation I hadn’t really though of my lack of self gratification as a cause of my unhappiness and discomfort. I had still been getting erections multiple times a day but hadn’t really thought about masturbation since I knew it wasn’t an option. Mostly I’d been looking at these as annoyances and not considered the problem and thus the solution… that in addition to everything else, I was horny and needed to nut! It amazed me that my parents had come to this conclusion before I did, but what’s more perplexing is how or why they decided that having my mom jerk me off was the right course of action!?

We were in my apartment. I looked at my mom sitting in the arm chair next to me. In all these years I’d never asked why. I mean, she said that they felt I was cranky because I couldn’t masturbate, but why had they made the extreme choice to have my mom do it for me? Why had my dad been on board? I stared at her, Dr Smith did too, looking for the same answers. My mom looked back at us with a deer in the headlights expression.

“Fine” she sighed, “your father thought of it, he made a joke to me about how much being in the casts must suck for a guy, so for a couple days I watched you and thought about it.. I told him about your erections, which of course I knew were natural and normal, so I hadn’t told him before, but then he got me thinking. He laughed and said that I should just do it for you. I asked if he was serious and he said that if I thought it was a good idea then I should try it, but he never asked about it again. Even though it became obvious when I was going into your room at bedtime every night, he still never said anything.”

“But why did you decide to try it?” Dr Smith spoke.

“This sounds crazy, but honestly it was a maternal choice, it was something that my son needed that I could do for him. Yes it was unorthodox and improper, but my intentions were.. Motherly.” Smith wrote while she spoke.

“And how did you respond to this proposal?” He asked, looking at me.

“Well, her hand was still on my pecker.. ”.

I was still staring at her, wide eyed from shock and confusion. I suddenly became aware that her hand was still there as she looked at me waiting for some sort of answer. I could tell by her face that this wasn’t easy for her, she was uncomfortable too. This had to be awkward and she obviously knew that I was old enough to understand that this was a fairly inappropriate offer. If I’d had any sense of decency I should have politely declined and let her off the hook. But I was a teenager and a virgin and there was a woman, albeit my mother, with her hand on my crotch offering to give me my first hand job..

“OK”. I said, almost scared that it was a trick and I was about to get in trouble for choosing the wrong answer. My response seemed to startle her, maybe she expected me to say ‘no’, but even if she was bluffing and didn’t want to do it, she accepted my choice and with a small gulp she turned to look at the thing she’d been holding.

“alright then.” She said, and shifted her position on my bed. I kept watching her, afraid to make a noise. She turned, one leg underneath her, one hanging off the bed. She carefully opened the flaps on my pajama shorts as if she expected a spider to jump out or something, and saw the front of my boxers nearly bursting open. With the same tentativeness, she pulled the flaps apart and let my eager manhood push through. She made a little unexpected gasp and released the sides of my boxers, letting the opening slide down the length of my shaft, fully revealing myself to my mother. My eyes darted from her hands to her face, she was definitely nervous, not sure how to proceed. Of course she knew what to do, but it was as if she felt she was supposed to do it differently because it was her son. I on the other hand was DYING, I felt like my prick was actually growing harder as it pointed at her, waiting for what was to come next. It felt wrong, how badly I wanted this. I’d never looked at my mom in that way before, but at that moment in my head I was screaming ‘for God sake mom, give me a hand job!!’. She finally worked up the courage to touch it, gently wrapping her cold fingers around the base, then immediately pulling her hand back! “Oh, uh, wait, I’ll be right back”. She stood up and left the room, returning a minute later with a bottle of personal Lubricant.. I know everything else was freaky enough, but this was were I really got weirded out. She squeezed some into her hand, lube.. The same lube that she and my dad must use in bed, the same stuff that my dad might even use when he jerks off! It was almost too weird for me and I nearly threw in the towel, but then she took ahold of me and gave the first stroke…. Any feelings of doubt went right out the window! I let out a loud sigh, and she stopped.

“are you ok?!?” she asked.

“I’m fine!” I yelled, my voice cracking a bit. She hesitated but continued.

By current standards, it was the most unimpressive hand job that any guy had ever gotten in the history of hand jobs.. But at that moment l was convinced that this was the most gratifying sexual experience I would ever have! In reality however… She used one hand, stopped several times because she was uncomfortable, didn’t really keep a good rhythm, and hadn’t used enough lube.. In hindsight it’s a miracle I came at all, but come I did! I lasted less than 5 minutes and didn’t know to warn her of the impending mess, so when I came it just started spraying straight in to the air like an oil rig that had hit the mother load!

She was startled and tried to contain it, putting her free hand over my penis to block the upward geyser, but all that did was deflect it down and to the sides. It splattered all across the two of us, my bed, and the floor. Honestly it was probably a pretty comical sight, me lying there in my cast with my arms helplessly in the air, her trying to stop what looked like one of those soda bottles when you drop a mentos in. Once I was done she gave me a little lecture on the importance of warning her next time before I came… but all I heard was NEXT TIME..

“so..” I started, not really sure of what to say or how to say it, “um, how, or when.. do I like, ask?” I was trying to find out how I would go about getting another one of these hand jobs.. Without sounding too eager. She must’ve understood where I was going.

“this will be sort of an as needed treatment” she said, “if something ‘comes up’ so to speak” she laughed a little at her own pun, “then I’ll address it, sound good?”.

“um.. Ya.” I said calmly.. This sounded GREAT! So in order to get her to jerk me off, all I had to do was get an erection?!? That was easy enough! This saved me the embarrassment of having to ask for them and look like some sort of pervert! This was going to be amazing for me.. And quickly proved to be a bigger job than she anticipated.

I bet she expected this to be a once a day task, probably in the mornings, when most guys got hard ons.. She underestimated dealing with a teenager. I could make myself get them with shear will, but that wasn’t even necessary.. The regularity with which my mother needed to touch some part of my “bathing suit area”, to use the restroom, bathe, or get dressed, was enough stimulation to get me naturally aroused.. That first day alone my mother stroked 5 loads out of me.

A few days into this, I was sitting on the couch and my mother was beside me, about to catch my 2nd load of the day, when she threw me a curve ball.

“does that feel good?” she asked. I turned to look at her, surprised, almost scared of the question.

She asked it innocently, nothing sexual in her voice. But the question itself implied pleasure, that I was supposed to be enjoying this (which I was). However this arrangement had always been under the guise of necessity, that my mother was simply helping me do something that I was incapable of doing for myself, no different than brushing my teeth or feeding me.. And that was how I was looking at it too. This wasn’t some filthy incestuous sexual fantasy that I was living out.. I wasn’t supposed to LIKE this, but the fact was I did. Was that so wrong?? I mean regardless of how it was happening, teenage boys jerk off because they LIKE it, because it feels good! Because blowing your load in a sock, or tissue, or right on the floor makes us feel good right?! It’s natural! I shouldn’t feel bad that I enjoyed this, and obviously my mother knows that every time I nut I’m feeling something pleasurable, she’s not an idiot. So if it doesn’t bother her that Im enjoying her making me cum then why should I pretend that I don’t like it?!

“uh ya.” Was all I came up with.

“well let me know if I should do something differently”. She said, looking back down at the task at hand.

“um.. Like what?” I asked nervously.

“oh I don’t know.. Like if you wanted it faster, or slower. That sort of thing.”

“oh.. OK.”

“… or if you wanted me to use more lube..”

“ok.”

“…or if you wanted me to sit on the other side, or do it from a different angle..”

“ok.”

“or maybe use both hands or something.. I dunno.”

“oh, OK.” I said, and I sat in silence for a few seconds.. “um.. Mom, maybe use two hands.”

“OK.” Was all she said.. And thus opened the floodgates of communication for hand jobs. A week later I was sitting in that same spot, my mother on her knees in front of me, topless. Her tits swaying as both her hands worked my prick in unison, doing a twisting motion as they simultaneously slid up and down. “does that feel good baby? Are you going to cum for mommy?”

“God yes! I’m gonna cum! Quick use your tits!” I yelled in ecstasy. My mom leaned forward, wrapping her breasts around my penis, slick with lube. She moved up and down, my dick disappearing and reappearing inside her cleavage. “I’m cumming!!” I warned, she sat up and pushed her boobs together, completely concealing my member as it sprayed. Semen oozed out through her bosom and ran down my shaft. Luckily my loads were getting more manageable, simply due to regular draining. When I was done she released me and picked up a couple wash cloths that were waiting beside her. She cleaned me off as best she could and stood up.

“alright, I’m going to rinse off really quick” she said, and walked out, leaving me sitting on the sofa, my cock still pointing in the air, twitching as it relaxed and softened.

“so how did you get to that point?.. Nudity, dirty talk, using your breasts to pleasure him..” Dr Smith looked at the two of us, but asking my mother.

“well, he asked..” she said. “when I told him he could feel free to let me know what he wanted, he originally said use two hands, so I did, and I kept doing it that way, which of course just lead to me needing to be in front of him to do it properly. Then a day later he asked for more lube, I guess it was rubbing a bit, so I used more.. No big deal.. And then a big load got all over my shirt the next morning, so the next time I was doing it I wore just a sports bra.. in case.. and I noticed him staring at my chest while I was rubbing him.” She got quiet, shy.. The Dr noticed it too.

“how did you feel when you saw your son admiring your breasts?” he asked.

“honestly, it was flattering, and a little arousing.. And so the next time I relieved him, I intentionally wore a sexy bra. He noticed immediately and couldn’t take his eyes off of them, but I acted like it was just a normal bra I was wearing. He watched them the whole time and during the session he spoke, he said something like ‘oh God yes!’, which was a big deal because he had always remained silent the whole time.”

“why did you finally speak?” Dr Smith turned to me.

“it wasn’t on purpose, it just came out. But that was all, I didn’t say another word until it was over. And my mom asked me if that was good, and I just nodded and muttered yes or something.. I was super embarrassed..”

“which I noticed of course.” My mom chimed in, “so I told him that it was ok to say things like that. That it was normal and everyone did it, and that it could make the experience more enjoyable if he relaxed and let it out. So the next time he did it. ‘ohh that’s good’, ‘faster mom, don’t stop’, ‘yes mom yes’, that sort of thing.”

“so Chris, did it make it more enjoyable to speak up? Was saying mom a conscious choice?” he asked me.

“yes it made it better. But as far as saying mom, what else was I supposed to say? ‘Janet’? ‘Baby’? It’s just what I call her so that’s what I said.”

“did it turn you on when he spoke? Specifically, when he used the word mom.” The Dr asked her.

“yes it did, a little, but mostly it made me feel good about myself.. The mom thing surprised me a little, but like he said, that’s just what he called me so it was only normal.”

“what came next?” he asked.

“then I started responding… it just felt weird to sit there in silence, so I gave little responses like ‘good’, ‘ok’, ‘that’s nice’… which kind of egged him on, and his responses grew more sexual, uninhibited.. So mine expanded in turn to things like ‘that’s it sweetie’, ‘do you like that?’, ‘mommy wants you to cum’.. And so on.”

“I felt, like my mom said, more uninhibited.. Less nervous, more relaxed.. I felt like I was SUPPOSED to be enjoying myself, that my mom was truly doing this for my enjoyment, and that she wanted me to feel good and that I was free to say things that I wanted to say.. In a weird way it was a real bonding moment for us. Most teenage boys never want to talk to their mothers, let alone open up. But I felt completely open with her.. I mean if she wasn’t judging me for any of this then I could tell her ANYTHING, and I really carried that mentally into our normal mother – son relationship down the road. So the next time she started giving me a hang job, I blurted out ‘let me see your boobs!’, and she did it.”

“I mean, they’re boobs they’re visible in movies and the internet and in magazines, it’s not like he’s never seen them.” My mom replied defensively, feeling the Dr look at her.

“then” I continued.. “the topic of our sessions began feeling less taboo. Of course we didn’t bring it up in public or around my father, but when it was just us we’d make jokes about it, and talk about it nonchalantly. She’d say ‘I have to go do errands so I’ll be gone awhile, Let’s go ahead and take care of you now before I go’ and She’d just start taking her top off. We even started trying new things. She stated paying with my balls one time without me asking about it.. So I asked if I could ‘titty fuck’ her, of course I didn’t say it that way, She’s still my mom, but she obliged and did it.. And that’s how we got to that point.”

“well it sounds like things were progressing pretty fast.” Dr Smith stated.

“I guess, but it was still just the hand jobs, that was sort of it for awhile, we didn’t go any further until after my casts we removed which ended up taking a couple weeks longer than expected. And then after they came off I was still very sore with limited motion and was told to take it easy for a little while longer.. I’m sure my doctor was referring to skateboarding and stuff, but we took it as any potentially strenuous activity, so my mom asked if I still needed her to help me with pleasing myself until I felt better and I eagerly accepted. I had physical therapy for a couple weeks which got me back to normal mobility… and then she stopped. One morning she just didn’t come into my room and that was then end of it.”

“so you wanted to stop it at that point, correct?” Dr Smith asked my mom.

“well no, not exactly.. The night before, my husband brought it up that I no longer needed to help Chris with hand jobs, he was sort of joking because I never really said I had been doing it. But I know he knew. I was going into Chris’ room every night at bedtime for longer than was needed to simply say goodnight, so he knew there was something, but never asked.. Plus.. All that stuff with Chris throughout the day meant I was really horny by nighttime, so my husband and I were having a very active sex life, due mainly to what Chris and I had been doing.”

“were you aware of this Chris?”

“yes, I could usually hear them.”

“did it bother you?”

“no.”

“so what happened when your mother stopped?”

“well school had started again at this point, so it’s not like we were sitting around the house all day together, but when I got home we still had a couple hours alone.. I thought about asking my mom to continue ‘treating’ me, but I felt that would come off as perverse and would really turn this into incest. So I just let it go.”

“I actually expected him to ask me, which he didn’t, so I figured that he didn’t want it any more. So I didn’t pursue it. We didn’t do anything or even bring it up for two weeks, which was having a toll on me because my libido started to slow down and so my husband and I started having sex less…so finally I decided that I wanted to continue doing things with Chris, but by that point I knew he was already masturbating again, and the fact that he was doing that rather than asking me to do it told me that he preferred it that way.”

“which I didn’t, I just didn’t know she was willing to do it..” I said.

“so I figured I needed to offer him something he couldn’t do himself..”

One night I had just gone to bed, when mom walked in. She closed the door, left the lights off, and walked over to my bed without saying a word. She sat on the edge and I propped myself up on my elbows.

“hey sweetie…” she took a long pause, nervous. I could see her pretty well from the glow of the street lights outside my window. “I want to do something for you…” she placed a hand gently on my thigh, “that I think you’ll like… but if you don’t, please tell me and I’ll stop ok!?”

“um..ok” I didn’t know exactly what she had in mind, but I had an idea, and it made my dick jump in my shorts.

She waited for a second then proceeded. She pulled my prick out through the front of my shorts, god I’d missed the feeling of my manhood in her hands! She noticed that I was already petty stiff, and I hadn’t yet stopped her, which put her at ease. She stroked me casually for a second, just long enough to allow me to become fully erect, then she leaned over and took me in her mouth. I gasped. Instantly I knew that this was better than a hand job, the warmth, the moisture.. Things just slid against my sensitive skin differently. After a couple of seconds she grabbed the base with her hand, keeping the upper half in her mouth, stroking and sucking in harmony. For several minutes the room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of wetness from her lips. And then she spoke.

“does that feel good baby?” she looked up, barely raising her head, the tip of my cock brushing against her chin as she spoke. She was still working me with her hand.

“oh my God yes mom I love it! Don’t stop I want to cum!” I whispered frantically. She turned back to my meat, smiling, and devoured me. I came seconds later. I warned her before hand and was surprised that she didn’t stop, just continued bobbing her head, even as I spewed hot jizz helplessly into her mouth. After I finished I felt her tongue working me inside her mouth, cleaning me. Then she sat up stood.

“did you like that?” She said, revealing she had swallowed everything I’d given her.

“yes.”

“good.” She smiled, “now sleep tight.” And she walked out. Several minutes later I heard the rhythmic creaking of their bed.

The next day at school all I could think about was what had happened, a blowjob. It was incredible, and I wanted it again! Would she do it again? Was it a one time thing? How would I ask her? Well it turned out I didn’t have to.. When I got home I was initially disappointed that she acted like nothing had happened. She was tidying up so I just went up to my room and started on my homework. I had abandoned all hope of pursuing another blowjob from my mother when she walked in. She was putting her hair in a ponytail and knelt down beside my chair.

“ok let’s do this now before I have to start dinner” she said matter of factly.

I didn’t say a thing, I just turned my chair to face her and pulled out my pecker, and like the night before she made me cum with her mouth and swallowed it all… it happened again that night at bedtime, and the next morning before school. My father left for work just before I did, giving us a few minutes alone, which was not wasted.

This continued, uninterrupted, for more than a year and a half.

“so Dr Smith” I began, “this is why I say things went slowly.. It was just hand jobs for over 2 months, and then it was just blowjobs for nearly 2 years. This wasn’t some porn where the mom walks in on her son jerking off and decides to fuck him, relatively speaking, our lead up to having sex was very gradual.”

“and was this oral sex consistent?” he asked.

“Very. Multiple times a day, when my father was out. And on weekends when he was home I’d still get one before bed, and during the day we created opportunities.”

“I did all my shopping on the weekends” my mom said, “so I would have Chris go with me to give me a hand..”

“which always included a blowjob in the car.” I added.

“we worried that my husband might become suspicious, but the fact is, he wasn’t looking for anything. If he suspected anything was going on he never asked. But regardless, we came up with other ways to be alone. Chris would go out to meet friends and I would give him a ride, or he’d leave early to meet them, and a little while later I’d go out to do errands and he would be waiting a couple blocks away for me to pick him up.”

“you mentioned friends. Chris, did this relationship with your mother impact your social life in any negative way? Like, were you ditching your friends because you’d rather be with your mother?” the Dr asked me.

“not at all. I mean it sounds like we were ALWAYS doing this, but really, we’re talking 20min max… I’d get a bj and go. I still wanted to go out with friends, and I even started dating. This whole thing gave me quite a bit of confidence. I went to school dances, got a girlfriend, and even lost my virginity.”

“all while still regularly receiving oral sex from your mother?”

“ya.. Often times right before and or right after my dates.” I laughed a little.

“were you aware he’d become sexually active?” he asked my mother.

“ yes, he told me. That’s actually one of the perks of where our relationship had gone, he was very open with me, no secrets, perhaps because we shared such a big one. But yes I knew he was sleeping with his girlfriend, so did his father. We bought him condoms, gave him a lecture, normal stuff.”

“did you feel any jealousy or feel neglected once he was dating?”

“no.. I mean nothing really changed, I still gave him head.”

“why did you continue to give him oral?”

“because he wanted it.. And I did too. If he’d ended it with me I would’ve understood, but he showed no interest in stopping.”

“Chris, why did you want oral sex from your mother if you were in a sexual relationship with your girlfriend?”

“well, first, my girlfriend didn’t give head, and I like head so I still wanted to get it” we all laughed a little, “and during a normal week, my girlfriend and I could only be alone to have sex once, maybe twice if we were really lucky.. So I was still pretty horny the majority of the time.”

“I understand what Chris was getting from your relationship” he turned back to my mother, “not to be crude, but it’s understandable why a young man would like this arrangement…” he chuckled, “but what did you get out of it? Up until this point, only Chris’ sexual needs were being met.”

“not entirely. What Chris wasn’t always aware of is that I often rubbed myself while going down on him. But more than that, it aroused me, not just when it was happening, but in general. It was like an affair, the secret, the excitement, the… naughtiness of it all.. And at the end of the day when I was pent up from all that I’d been doing with Chris, I’d go screw the crap out of my husband.. I definitely got something out of it.” She said, satisfied.

“so what happened next? How did you progress to sexual intercourse? Who made that leap, and why?”

“it was me” my mother answered, “and even now I don’t know why I did it.”

It was like any other night that week, of that month, of that year. I was laying on my bed, completely naked. My mom was on the bed, kneeling between my spread legs. My hands were behind my head, my eyes were closed, listening to the slurping sounds in the darkness, like one would do if they were appreciating classical music. She’d only come in a few moments ago, wearing a long nightgown, similar to every night. She quickly got to work, my dick had been in her mouth for barely a minute, but I was already in ecstasy.. And then she stopped. She sat up and crawled atop of my body. Positioning her crotch above mine. She pulled her gown up and bunched it around her midsection as she pulled her panties aside and lowered herself onto my rod.

“don’t cum.” Was all she said in a hushed voice. And then she started riding me.

She went slowly, because of noise I assumed, going up and down a few times before fully impaling herself on my prick and grinding out an orgasm. It was quick, even I could tell she must’ve been very horny. She just stared up into the darkness with her eyes tightly shut, biting her lip. I was frozen, I didn’t want to do anything to disturb her. She shuddered tremendously when she came, but was otherwise quiet. Then she pulled my cock out of her and went back to sucking it.. I came soon after. She left without an explanation and not long afterward I heard their bed alerting the house to their love making. She continued to give me head like usual for several days, but she didn’t try having sex with me. Then one afternoon, when I came home, she asked if I wanted to ‘do it again?’, and I said ‘yes’. We went to my room and did it. It was rather basic, not as erotic as it sounds. She pulled her pants and underwear down and bent over, placing her hands on my bed. She didn’t look back or say anything, she just waited. I unzipped my pants and pulled my dick out, then I fucked her.. No talking, no fore play, I just slammed into her for several minutes, then I pulled out before I came, and that was it. But they got better..

Whether or not we had sex was completely up to my mother. She’d still suck my dick as usual, which to be fair, was also completely up to her.. But when she’d ask ‘do you want to do it again?’ referring specifically to intercourse.. My answer was always yes. We began doing it all around the house, pretty much wherever we were when she asked. Sometimes she’d already be giving me head, and then stop to ask.. A few times I had to decline, simply because I was already moments away from cumming. But blowjobs seemed to still be her preferred choice when we were alone. I wasn’t complaining, they were great. Being able to just relax and cum when I was ready could sometimes rival having to make sure I pulled out of her snatch before I came, which resulted in a mess that we’d have to clean up, or clothes that we’d have to change. But there was something to be said about the sound of my flesh slapping hers, and the feeling of being in control of the action, speeding up or slowing down and going at my own pace.

This went on for about another year and a half, until I moved out.

“what about your girlfriend? Were you still having sex with her?” Dr Smith asked me.

“ya. And we still dated.”

“so your relationship with your mother didn’t hinder your relationship with your girlfriend at all?”

“nope, we just ended after graduation rather than doing long distance, that’s all.”

“why did you take it a step further with Chris, and start having sexual intercourse? He was content with oral, why move on?” he turned to my mom.

“that was for me. Partly out of curiosity, partly out of shear lust.” A look of shame crossed her face. “I knew he’d be ok with it of course, and he was already having sex so it’s not like I was ‘deflowering’ him or anything, so that wasn’t an obstacle.. I had been thinking about doing it, but wasn’t going to until..”she looked at me, “his father gave me the ok to do it..”

“what?!” I exclaimed.

“one night after I’d given Chris a blow job, I went into my room and my husband admitted that he knew what I was doing with Chris. Apparently he’d come home very early a few days before and saw us through a crack in the curtains. So he went around back and watched through a kitchen window. For the next couple nights he listened through Chris’ bedroom door and could tell what was happening.. For whatever reason, he wasn’t mad.. All he said was ‘if you guys have sex, be safe’ and then he never brought it up again. His demeanor never changed, he never got angry, we even made love right after our talk. I felt like I had a pass to do it.. So.. I did. It was fun, exciting, changed things up with Chris and I, so I continued doing it.” She shrugged a little.

“and this didn’t negatively impact your marriage or your sex life with your husband?” he asked her.

“no. The two of them were different in bed, and made me feel differently during sex.. My husband is wonderful, he’s..” she looked at me again, “large, can always make me climax, and we can make love, something I never did with Chris obviously.. But really our sex like was rather vanilla.. It was only ever in bed, at night. But with Chris it was different. He was ready to go at any time, the perks of being a younger man.” we all chuckled. “he could perform anywhere, in any position, and stayed hard no matter what.. It was spontaneous, and thrilling.”

“then why didn’t you have intercourse with Chris more often, why continue to perform oral, for what sounds like the majority of the time?”

“having sex with Chris, as well as the blowjobs, was about the thrill for me. The sneaking around, the risk of being caught blowing my son in a parking lot or something.. And the feeling of being desired.. My husband loves me and enjoys sex with me, but we’re married.. I know he finds me attractive, but he doesn’t look at me like something he wants, he already knows he can have me, there’s no risk, if he says he wants to have sex he knows he’ll get it. But with Chris I was in charge. I knew he wanted those blowjobs, you could sense his eagerness. He was always on edge, waiting for the invitation to whip it out. Sure we did it regularly, but even so, he couldn’t guarantee he’d get one so he never got jaded. You could tell that if I hadn’t offered to blow him soon enough after school, he would start to get scared that he wouldn’t get one. It was cute, and made me feel sexy to know that this young man WANTED me so badly. I knew that when he woke up he was looking forward to it. And all during the day he was watching the clock waiting to get home to me. And every night he was laying in bed hoping that I would come in to see him. It made me feel very special. And making him cum was fun, it made me feel young. I knew that I gave him so much pleasure that even though he was now having sex with his very cute girlfriend, he still wanted me too. I felt like I was the best in the world! There was also the arousal for me.. I rarely climaxed when I had sex with Chris” she gave me an ‘I’m sorry’ look, “it was nothing about him, but our times just weren’t what I needed to have an orgasm. We never kissed of course, we never even got fully naked. Sometimes he’d play with my boobs, but there was hardly any other contact.. But boy was it HOT! Having him fucking me on the kitchen table, or on the couch.. Quickies with our clothes on made it hotter, more tawdry, like I was being used even though I was technically using him.” She giggled, “Sometimes I came, but mostly it just left me turned on for the rest of the day. I would go places and talk to friends and neighbors, and in the back of my head I was thinking ‘they have no idea I just fucked my son!’ it was invigorating! But I didn’t need that kind of stimulation every day, so giving him blowjobs sufficed.”

“so why did it end?” he asked to the two of us.

“I moved out.” I said simply.

“what about when you visited?”

“it just didn’t happen. I mean I would’ve done it, but the opportunities never arose, and she never initiated anything, so it just didn’t happen.” I said.

“partly, I didn’t know his thoughts on it, so I didn’t want to bring it up and him decline and make things awkward. But there weren’t as many chances. He always came on weekends, or holidays, when his father was home or other family members were around. He didn’t need rides anywhere, and going into his room seemed weird and obvious.. It just didn’t happen naturally so it didn’t happen.” My mother added.

“then the visits became less frequent, and I was dating more.. And honestly it felt like it ran its course.. Like when an amazing athlete plays too long after their prime and is no good any more.. It was awesome while it was going on, but forcing it could’ve ruined the memory.”

“OK.. now for the obvious question.” Dr Smith began. “what role did your mother – son relationship play throughout the course of your sexual relationship? Was Chris being your son a bigger turn on? Do you think of him during sex with your husband? Chris, do you fantasize about your mother? Do either of you watch incest – porn?” he finished. My mom and I looked at each other.. She went first.

“I never desired my son, the fact that he was my son didn’t make it better, BUT it created opportunities for us to be alone, opportunities that wouldn’t exist if I was having an affair with some other man around town where we always had to sneak out or meet at a motel room and hide our phones from our spouses… Him being my son and us living together, allowed for the spontaneity that was so alluring. Even when it was just hand jobs! He’d get hard constantly! For no reason it seemed, and even then I was thinking to myself how nice it would be to have a dick to fuck that was always so willing to go!” she sighed, “But no, I rarely thought to myself ‘I want to fuck my son today’, I usually just referred to Chris as HIM or IT, referring to his penis, when having sexual thoughts. As in ‘I can’t wait to fuck him today’ or ‘I want to suck it’. No I never thought of my son Chris per se, but I would think of the situations while in bed with my husband. Oh and no I don’t watch incest porn.”

“for me” I started, “I didn’t want my mom, but I wanted the treatment.. The hand jobs, blow jobs, the sex.. It could’ve been one of our neighbors, a teacher, I didn’t care, but it was being offered by her so I took it. And yes because we lived together, it did provide more chances to do it which was nice. No I’ve never closed my eyes and pictured my mom when I was being intimate with someone else.. BUT, I do sorta think of her when I masturbate. It’s not thoughts of my mom its thoughts of things we did.. Just like everyone occasionally thinks of their past sexual experiences when they jerk off. And I have watched incest porn.. some times the ladies in the scenes are really hot and do it for me, but I don’t watch to relate to the incest and relive my past.” I said.

“OK..” said Dr Smith. “so there’s one more thing. I didn’t bring this up before.. Yes you did provide proof that you’re mother and son, but this could still just be a fictional story. I’m inclined to request that the two of you conduct a sexual act that I can witness, to know that you really were intimate.” My mother and I looked at each other. “obviously you don’t have to, but if you don’t, I would have to note that your story is not 100% verified in my study.”

“you want to watch us have sex?” I asked.

“not entirely.” He said. “you can do it in front of me, but I understand that scenario can cause performance issues for many people, so your other option is for me to set up a camera to record it while I leave and can review after.. But I know that having such a compromising scene recorded can make you uncomfortable. I promise the recording will be deleted, which you can verify, but it’s up to you.” He looked at us.. “oh and it doesn’t have to be intercourse, oral would suffice.”

“um.. If I had to pick” my mother started, “I’d rather you just watch for a bit.. I mean it only has to be for a moment right? We don’t have to go at it for the whole time right?” I was baffled she was even considering it.

“of course” He answered, and turned to me, “orgasms are optional.”

“fine.” I said, “just a little bit of a bj.. But I’ll have to close my eyes so I don’t see you.” I told him, “it’s weird.”

There was definitely some hesitation all around. Neither my mother or I moved or said anything. But eventually she put her hair up and got out of her chair. I closed my eyes tight and looked up at the ceiling. I felt her kneel in front of me, and begin undoing my pants. I was too nervous to help. When she pulled my penis out it was still flaccid. I don’t think she’s ever seen it soft, I laughed in my head. Suddenly I felt the familiar warmth of my mother’s mouth envelop my cock. I held back a sigh. Her hands were on each of my legs for support, and she lowered her head. Her lips slid down all the way to the base, I felt like she was gauging how much my tool had grown over the years. She bobbed softly, barely lifting her head, the tip of her nose brushing my pubes while the head of my dick rubbed against the back of her throat. This was more than sufficient to provide proof of intimacy to Dr Smith. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mother to stop. She must’ve known for herself that this was good enough, but she didn’t stop either. My prick was fully erect, the smooth wetness of her mouth causing me to swell and harden. As it grew she could no longer keep her head so far down, and lifted it up, still bobbing steadily. My balls throbbed, a tingling shot through my shaft. Regardless of who was watching, I was going to cum in my mother’s mouth. When it happened it took her by surprise. She had to stop moving, and just sucked the tip, as if drinking my jizz through a straw.

She was already sitting back in her chair before I finally felt composed enough to open my eyes. She had tucked my dick back in and zipped me up, I smiled, such a motherly thing to do. I looked around, Dr Smith had all his belonging packed and was waiting to go.

“well that will do. Thank you so much for your cooperation, it’s been incredibly valuable to my study. I’ll be in touch if I think of anything else.” He said, then he turned and let himself out, leaving my mom and I sitting alone.

“I like what you’ve done with the place” she said, standing up and casually walking around the apartment. I lived in Manhattan, on the lower west side, my parents lived in Northern New Jersey so we still saw each other fairly often.

“how’s dad?” I asked, forcing normal mother – son small talk as if she hadn’t just swallowed a load of my cum.

“good… we, uh.. Started doing anal recently.”

“what?! Mom! Geeze!”

“oh hush, I can still taste your dick in my mouth! Don’t be a prude.” She snapped, grinning. “I was saying… it’s not bad.. It’s different.. I told him I was going to be visiting you in the city all day.” She strolled across the apartment. “it’s still pretty early..” she stopped in front of my bedroom door, “you want to do it again?” that familiar phrase sending blood to my loins.. “For old times sake.. ” she walked in leaving me in the living room, “and maybe we can try something.. different?” she called out. I stood up, the thought of my mother’s asshole reinvigorated my recently drained balls.. I began removing my shirt as I walked into the room behind her.

---