Son! Its wrong – Chapter 3

Incest stories: Son! Its wrong – Chapter 3

Author: eroticbeing

“Ok, we’ll make sure to be quiet.”

Mum blew me a small kiss.

The next night it was hard to know how to dress, I wanted to look good for Mum, but didn’t want to overdo it. However when I thought about it, I knew that she would present herself well, and thought that I should also, and if Dad was true to form, he most likely wouldn’t even notice.

It’s a lot easier for men, we just put on nice pair of slacks, a clean shirt, clean shoes, and we’re set. But women have to have everything just right, and just right she was. She wore a simple green Thai Silk dress, it wasn’t new, we’d seen it before, but it was special.

It had about a dozen small buttons all the way up from the bottom to the top, a fairly low neckline, short sleeves, and a belt at the waist. It stopped an inch above her knees. The one thing that it did do was to emphasis her three best features, her breasts, her legs and her rear end, she looked sensational. I’d taken a bit of care, but compared to Mum, I looked like a workman just home from the factory.

As I saw her my jaw dropped and I hoped that she didn’t hear the soft, “fuck!!” that escaped my lips. I wondered if she’d overdressed as when he saw her, Dads head turned round for a second look, before going back to watch the wrestling. By the time we’d said our goodbyes, he would have forgotten about us.

I was in a dream, when we got to the car in the garage, I looked at her in awe. I opened my mouth but no words came out, and then without engaging my brain, my mouth let out softly, “fuck you’re hot.”

Normally she would have voiced her disapproval of the language, but the only sign of that, was as she slightly screwed up her mouth, however the light in her eyes showed that she took it for the spontaneous complement that it was. I drove, we took her car, as it was clean, mine never was. We drove mostly in silence, there didn’t seem any need for words.

Before we’d got too far down the street, she without looking at me, placed her hand softly over mine, and left it there until we’d arrived and I’d turned off the engine. We parked in a quiet side street near the theatre, and as the engine died she looked at me in the dark saying in her softest voice, “is this a date, is this our first date?”

My heart was pounding and I already had the start of an erection as I looked at her, leaning across and just before kissing her softly, said, “yes and you’re the most beautiful date that I’ve ever had, first or otherwise.”

As we were early for the theatre, the kiss, like all of our kisses, just drifted on and on, as if we were a million miles from anywhere, and in no hurry to be anywhere else. When we broke apart, and looking at me with tears in her eyes and her voice cracking with emotion she said, “no one has ever kissed me like that, no one ever.”

We paused for a moment so that she could dab her eyes and fix her lips, and then until we got out into the lights we walked holding hands.

The theatre was almost empty, there were only three other people in as this was the last night, so we sat as far away from them as we could. When the lights went down Mum leaned against me. I took it as a sign that she wanted my arm around her. As I pulled her towards me, it was too easy for me to place my hand softly onto her breast, she gave me an exasperated look, then moved it to her shoulder. But I wasn’t happy about that and moved it down to her hip, which I rubbed softly several times, then saying, “what beautiful material.”

“Thank you,” as she placed her hand over mine, was it affection, or was it to stop me again touching something that I shouldn’t?

Soon we settled down into what was a more comfortable position for both of us, with Mums head on my shoulder, her arm across me, and her forehead just under my ear. This seemed to leave my hand now with complete freedom to roam wherever it wanted to.

I started by running the tips of my fingers lightly over her arm, her shoulder, and then her throat, until it came to rest casually on the top of her chest, with the tips of my fingers just burrowing slightly into her soft cleavage. She said nothing, but she did rub her forehead against my jaw, before lifting her face and kissing me under my ear, then moving back to focus on the film.

Naturally my hand slid down to cup her breast, my fingers seeking out her nipple, it was already thick and hard. The change to her breathing told me that she was getting pleasure from it, Mum was also pressing her forehead into the space under my jaw.

We were only a few minutes into the film and she’d now abandoned all pretence of watching it, and had her face hard against my neck, kissing all the way from my jaw to the hairline behind my ear. Her hot breath and mouth on my neck made me think that we were getting a bit too far down the track for a mother and son in the cinema, so I pulled away slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to get arrested.”

“Then take your hand off my breast.”

My response was to press her nipple harder between my thumb and forefinger, the pain caused her to bite her bottom lip, but she didn’t say stop. Her eyes sparkled with fire, and we then kissed, just a short one, not at all like one of our standard five minute ‘canoe in the river’ kisses. The film by now being largely ignored and forgotten. As was now the routine, her bottom lip seemed to have found its place between my teeth. She seemed to like having her lip bitten and stretched away from her, until it would stretch no more, and spring back into place. Sometimes I bit her slightly too hard, and she’d draw in her breath, but never told me to stop.

I of course was watching to see if anyone had noticed what we were up to, as best as I could tell, no one had to that point, Mum just didn’t seem to care.

As the kiss ended, Mum put her mouth back against my throat and went back to nibbling my skin. I made several unsuccessful attempts to slide my hand inside her bra, but she was sitting twisted which made it firmer against her skin. So that the best that I could do was to get two fingers in far enough to capture her nipple, but that was all.

She ignored my struggles and continued to kiss my neck, then after a short time got up. My heart sank I thought that she’d had enough because I’d pushed her too far.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I need the bathroom.”

I wasn’t interested in the stupid film, and waited impatiently for Mums return. She slid back easily into my arms, my hand rested for a moment on her chest, but something was different. Moving downwards inch by inch, it slid very easily further into her dress, and cupped her now naked breast. She’d removed her bra, and her entire beautiful, naked breast was mine to enjoy.

It was warm and firm to my touch, I couldn’t fit it all in my hand, so I compromised by cupping as much as I could, to be then able to run my thumb across her nipple with ease. Both her nipple and I enjoyed that arrangement.

Looking up at me, she smiled the look of love that only a mother could have for her son, saying, “I hope I don’t regret that.”

“You won’t,” I replied continuing to cup her breast in my palm, and then squeezing her nipple softly between my thumb, and the base of my index finger. “Nice?”

With a look of ecstasy on her face, and half hooded eyes she bit her bottom lip, and nodded, “Very.”

“Then you’re not regretting it?”

She shook her head, “not yet at least,” and went back to kissing my neck. So that was the way we watched the rest of the movie, with Mum sometimes having to bite her lip to stop everyone in the theatre from knowing how much she was enjoying her son massaging her breast and nipple.

The only time we changed anything was when Leonardo De Caprio’s character, kissed Joanna Lumley’s character, when we showed them both how a kiss should really be. I read in a magazine that they’d needed about thirty takes before these two big time stars got it right. They should’ve used Mum and I, we got it spot on first time, every time.

We just continued to kiss and cuddle from there on, she kissed my neck and I of course played with her beautiful naked breast, or at least as much of it as I could get into my hand.

As soon as the final music started we moved quickly from the cinema, not stopping in the foyer in case someone who’d seen what we were doing inside recognised us. When we reached the dark, we again held hands all the way to the car, and of course as soon as the doors closed behind us, we were kissing again, with my hand instantly onto her breast.

Mum pulled away saying, “we’re going to have to pull back a little from now on, if we don’t it’ll go too far and your Dad’ll work out what’s happening, ok?”

She was right of course but that was something that I didn’t want to hear.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes of course we do, it’s gone too far tonight really,” and as she softly stroked the side of my face, added, “but I’ve enjoyed myself more than I have in years.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon.”

Still stroking my face she said, “I think that’d be nice, let’s start to talk about it in front of him and see what he says, now let’s go as we all have work tomorrow.”

Mum again put her hand on top of mine all the way home, only removing it when the car had completely stopped in the garage. She said, “better not kiss me here until we know if he’s still up or not.” I was disappointed, but had to agree, it made sense, even though sense wasn’t something that I was too interested in at the time.

We moved quietly to the bottom of the stairs from where we could hear him in bed softly snoring. I put both my arms around her and cupped her breasts, but she pulled away saying, “oh I’ve left my purse under the front seat, it’s got my make up in it and I’ll need it in the morning, would you be a love and get it for me please?”

“Do you really need it now?”

“No, not now, but I will in the morning, please be a darling and get it for me.”

“Ok wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Not really seeing why she needed it right now, I went to the car, and then returned. When I did she wasn’t there, but neatly folded over the back of a chair was the green Thai Silk dress, with her underwear on the top.

Grabbing them I ran to the bottom of the stairs.

She was standing naked at the top. Christ she looked sensational in the light from below. She smiled and held her hands out from her body with her palms facing to me as if saying, “you like?” Her big black nipples and thick bush of pubic hair stood out in the half light.

For the second time tonight an involuntary, “fuck!!” escaped my lips, but she was too far away to hear, thankfully.

I started to climb the stairs, but she shook her head, gave me a firm, “NO,” before gliding silently to the door of their room, pausing only to look at me briefly, before closing it a few seconds before I arrived.

I put my mouth against the door, I knew she was leaning against it and could hear me as I whispered, “please open the door Mum, please open the door for me.”

There was silence.

I asked her again to open the door, but there was still no response, the only sound was that of my father snoring. It was obvious that our night was over and that I’d no options other than to lock up and go to bed, unfortunately alone. Going back down stairs, and standing there my mind in a whirl, I looked forlornly at her clothes in my hand, before eventually turning off the lights and climbing the stairs again.

Stopping silently at their door and listening intently, I was soon able to hear those unmistakable sounds of sex. To stand there and have to listen to Dad taking her brought tears to my eyes. It hurt me to think that after the night we’d just had, to be as we’d been, to have Mum give me access to her breasts as she had. And when she’d been home less than five minutes, she could be in bed with Dad screwing her.

Yes screwing her, because that was all that he did, just stick his dick into her, dump his load, turn over and go to sleep. No one could think of that as love making. The fact that I thought that I heard her come for him, was totally down to her being always ready, it’d nothing at all to do with him, or indeed love.

It was now clear, that the role that I played in her life was as a warm up man, getting her ready for him, I was the foreplay that she desperately needed, and he wouldn’t, or couldn’t be bothered giving to her.

I put her clothes on the floor, got undressed, and then standing in the passage with my back against the opposite wall, I masturbated, firing my seed across the hall, hitting the door, and leaving a snails trail from it to me. There was no love from me to her in that, in fact my feelings were as far from love as I could get.

When I got to my room my legs were shaking, and I was really angry, I felt such a fool, I’d held her hand, I’d kissed her and held her in my arms, so that all she’d got from me was affection. I’d given her a whole evening of true love.

And what was my reward? Absolutely nothing at all, perhaps you might regard removing her bra and letting me touch her breasts as a reward, but you’d be more realistic if you accepted, that this was just a way for her to become more aroused for my father to get the benefit of. The only person who’d got rewarded was Dad, the man who was totally ignoring her emotional needs, he was just, not to put too fine a point on it, simply fucking her.

Sitting there too emotional to go to sleep, I examined her clothing, sinking my nose into the back of her dress were she’d sat down. Her scent was so strong, had she been so stimulated that she’d left the dress for me, knowing that I’d do this, and know how turned on she was? If there were any doubts about her state of arousal her briefs dispelled it, with the thick coating of slime lying there. I ran my finger through it, it attached itself to me like glue, to leave this for me to find was like sticking a knife into my gut, it let me know just how turned on she was, and what it was that I’d missed out on.

Unable to help myself, I greedily licked it off my finger, replaced it with more, licked that off also, only to repeat the exercise for a third time. Before then burying my nose as deeply into her briefs as I could, breathing in her overpoweringly, heady aroma. Her deposit stuck to my face and hands.

Standing there naked with her underwear in my hand, and an erection, it was inevitable that I was going to fire off another load, which I did, to be honest more in anger than lust, choosing to use one of the cups of her bra. I didn’t use her briefs as you can only do that once, and then all they smell of is you, they then become worthless for my purpose.

Just as on Saturday night after the party, I couldn’t sleep, I kept running over the evening in my mind, and so at just after twelve thirty, I fired another load of my best issue into the second bra cup, again as much in anger as anything else. It never occurred to me that she hadn’t expected me to use her underwear for this, what else could she have had in mind, but was this my consolation prize?

Somewhere after that point, I resolved that if I was the one getting my Mother hot, then I needed to get some reward for effort. That I’d put aside my anger, and set about the process of having her, and damn the consequences.

The next morning, I of course woke up with an erection and this time her briefs were the recipient of that load. In the shower I said to myself, “For a young man who has a red hot forty six year old women, who’s husband’s out of the country, and is hot to trot, you’re jerking off far too much. You need to go and see Jane real soon.” I resolved to call her later that day.

It was hard to get a moment alone with Mum when we were having breakfast, as we were all running around with the organised confusion that was our normal morning rush. Dad also always seemed to be in the way, so other than a few moments of eye contact, and a couple of grins, we were unable to really communicate. Except when she said in an aside, “did you like your present?”

“I’d have liked it better if you hadn’t gone and closed the door.”

She didn’t notice that there was sharpness in my voice.

“Just can’t happen,” she said shaking her head, and as she filled up with tears, her voice dropped down very low, “you know, THAT, just cannot happen.”

“Mum, we both want it.”

“No, I don’t, no it just can’t,” and as she walked away, turned back to look at me from about ten feet away, “you know that it just can’t, don’t you?”

I nodded, mouthing, “yes it can,” but before I could pursue the matter further, she’d left to go to work. I’d consciously decided to ignore my anger, and keep on with my attempts to make sure that, THAT, did happen. Prior to the last weekend, I would have laughed if anyone had told me that I’d have set my sights on my own mother, but here I was with her dominating my entire time and thoughts.

Talking aloud to myself I said, “The good news is, as least I’m getting her sexy, all that I have to do is find a way to replace my father between her legs.” As soon as those words left my mouth, I regretted them, it was very uncouth, the sort of thing that my Father himself would’ve said. As my mother, she deserved better than that from me. But what it did do, was to show me that the hurt I felt by her having sex with Dad after we’d been together as we had, was very real, and still in me.

What hurt the most was that I’d committed to her more quickly than I would normally have done with a new woman. I’d committed to her totally, and of course forgotten the small matter of her having a husband, who coincidently was my father. No matter how much better our kissing was, no matter how horny she got with me, she was still my Fathers wife.

During the day I got a call from Jane, wanting to know why I hadn’t been around to see her. I told her that there was a bit on at work, but that I was going to call on the way home. The best thing about an older married woman was that there was no beating around the bush, no bullshit, it was straight to the point, and the point was…sex.

I called Jane first and then left work at two p.m. telling the boss that I had to buy a birthday present for my niece, and had some other stuff to take care of. He was cool with that as he knew that I’d make up the time without him having to worry too much about it. As long as the job got done, he didn’t worry about too much.

I went straight to Jane’s house, knocked on the door which opened immediately, but there was no one there. This was common practice, I walked in, the door shut behind me, and there standing behind it wearing nothing but a smile, was Jane.

We kissed each other from one end of our bodies to the other over the next two and a half hours. The sex, as usual, was outstanding, and again as usual, when I left her we were both wrecked, but something this time was different, something was not quite right.

I’d kept thinking of Mum all of the time that I’d been with Jane, I was still angry at her for screwing Dad, and used that to justify my being there with Jane, when I was showing signs of having feelings about my Mother. As I drove home, I couldn’t get Mum out of my mind, I felt as though I’d been unfaithful to her.

The more I thought about it of course, the more that I realised, and had to accept as fact, that she was married to Dad. And as such they had every right to screw each other stupid every night if they wanted to, and if the sex wasn’t as good as she wanted, that was then her problem.

Anyway she seemed to have put up with it for a few years now, and was quite used to letting him do her, and then flying sole afterwards. It seemed so very wrong that when Mum was as hot as she was, she was still happy to accept second best from him. What I couldn’t and wouldn’t accept was that I’d been the one who got her horny for him, and he’d got the benefit of that, not me.

That night Mum and I were able to speak more as I helped with the dishes; she looked over her shoulder at Dad in the lounge room saying, “can I have my dress back please?”

“Of course…eventually.”

“Did you wear it?”

“No, that thought never even entered my head.”

“Can I have my underwear back too?” This, with a twinkle in her eyes.

“But do you really want them back?” I returned the twinkle.

“I don’t know, you tell me, do I really want them back?” The twinkle was totally evil now.

“Not really, you can’t, anyway I’ll need them again tonight.”

Dad then came and sat in the kitchen to read the paper, so that stopped any more banter between us, and when we’d finished the dishes and went into the lounge room, he again followed, and so that killed any chance of quality time alone together.

Mum had tried so hard to get me to tell her who the older woman was that I was seeing, and by this time I was almost ready to tell her. She’d been at me everyday, in fact I thought that she was making herself available for me to kiss her at times, so that she could then push me harder to find out Jane’s name.

I looked forward to the next day, Friday, as that was Mum’s day off, and I started late at work, so we’d have some time alone together, hopefully quality time. Unfortunately Dad stayed home doing paperwork before going to his normal Friday afternoon meeting at the office, and he only left a minute or so before I had to.

Mum said, “I thought he’d never go,” as she melted into my arms. We kissed for as long as we could, our kisses had progressively developed a little more urgency, and her tongue came across immediately every time. She was in fact taking that more assertive role, we weren’t kissing in the way that I thought that Dad kissed her, like eating a Big Mac. She was however being somewhat more forceful than before.

Eventually, of course I had to go to work. We just kissed right up to the last moment and I ran out of the house so fast, that I almost took her tongue with me. I absolutely had to be at work by ten thirty, without fail, particularly as I’d cut out early yesterday. At least she never asked for Jane’s name this time, she never had the time to.

Mum rang me during the day to say that they were going out that night and also the next night, Saturday, this was cool with me as I played basketball Fridays, and was going to a friends thirtieth birthday the next night.

When I awoke on Saturday morning, it was later than normal, almost eight o clock. Mum and Dad both normally had things to do on Saturdays which required then to be out early. I just accepted that they’d changed their plans and I got up to shower.

After a few minutes the water pressure dropped sharply, and I knew that someone had gone into the other shower. I’d got out and started to dry myself when there was a knock on the door. After wrapping the towel round me I opened it to see Mum there, she said, “can I come in this shower please, we’ve slept in, Dad woke first and went into our shower knowing full well that I’ve got to be out before he does?”
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Parent Post: Son! Its wrong – by eroticbeing

• Son! Its wrong - Chapter 2
• Son! Its wrong - Chapter 3
• Son! Its wrong - Chapter 4
• Son! Its wrong - Chapter 5