I’m Thinking about my Son Pt. 03 – Final

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tagIncest/TabooI'm Thinking about my Son Pt. 03 – Final

Please read with great caution. This story is mother/son, non consensual and is very dark.
He walks into the bedroom with me trailing behind him. I watch how he moves. Confident with a fluidity. His musculature overwhelms yet he has a grace. I love his ass. It is perfect. Something I will want to hold onto in stormy nights when he has me on back. I close the door and tell him to sit on the bed.
I light the 3 candles. They make the room feel warm and pretty. It is now a place to relax, a time to allow dreams and possibilities to simmer gently on this cold and bitter day; to see what might unfold.
I get on my knees about 15 feet from him. I walk over slowly, still on all fours and end up near his cock. His eyes are wide. He is the very definition of freaked. From the business end, I am ass high and sexually open. There is an obscenity to it. A perverseness that transcends kink. The moment is garish. I slowly look up.
God help me. You do not know me. You never will. Why would I lie to you? I am normal. I have my kinks and I can get my freak on occasionally but is this even remotely normal? This lockdown is killing me. Oh my God in heaven, I need to do this.
I never take my eyes off of his eyes.
"You do what you gotta do sweetie," I tell him. I just look at him and smile. Think of it as control that is sugar coated."
"Do what it ever it takes. You're a very good boy."
His cock is raging. I can easily take it in my mouth, but I want to finish him in my own time, in my own way. I remain passive and I wait him out. I sense his struggle. I just wait. Wait. Then it happens. He grabs the back of my head and starts to fuck my mouth. I listen to his breathing and I can see he is so very close. I wanted to edge him. I wanted to see how much he can endure. I sense that would be so sweet, but it is not going to happen this time. He is beyond any thought of enduring my advances. I tighten my lips just a bit and suck a little harder. I go faster. His hand digs into my neck and I cry out.
He stiffens and goes silent. Then, a deep groan comes from him as he lets fourth a torrent of cum that enters my mouth. I work his cock. I feel him pulsate gently. The tenderness is unbearable. I luxuriate in the moment. To have a son pulsate in that place, to know that you are the cause of his unspeakable bliss, is to experience an intimacy, that is profoundly moving.
I wonder if I will survive this night.
As for Michael, it is a loving moment for a son who is experiencing pleasure that is so over the top sweet, so fluid and wet, that the intensity it is almost unbearable. Yet, it is also a loving moment for a mother, who thought of this, who struggled to be appropriate. Sacrifices were made. Often in times gone by, she had to resort to the butt plug and rabbit for her lust but now she has created, she has bred, the perfect vehicle, with whom to connect and satisfy her very deep needs.
Please know this has been going on for a long time as I manage and examine every single aspect of his life. That is why even in the most mundane situations; having coffee with me in the morning or a conversation in the living room, he was always partially erect. I wonder if he understood that was a fact of which I was totally aware.
He groans one last time, deeply. A sound that is pure pleasure. I hold his balls in my hand and milk him gently. I do this not just for his pleasure but to remind him that even though I am in a subservient position at the moment, it does not make me a subservient person. I suck him for that last minute, and he is dry. He continues to shake gently. He is slowly coming down from an experience he will never forget.
He takes his hands and moves them down to my shoulders and begins to massage them. I feel myself relax as he works the muscles. He is spent; perspiring and warm to the touch yet he was giving back to me. Giving back to me physically. He knows I tried so hard. I swallowed him and he must have known that. Ever last drop and I give you my word, there was a lot there. I wonder why he never drains himself. Really, that can't be healthy; to let yourself get so full, so swollen. Granted, I am his mother, so it was pretty intense but still, a bit of draining is not a bad idea.
His cock softens, falls out of my mouth. He groans and lies off to the side. I lean back on my left elbow and use my other hand to hold his balls gently. I hold him softly and remember a story I read about an older woman and a younger man. They are going to have ten encounters that were paid for by the young man's father. The woman was an expert in bringing pleasure to those who could afford her services. What I remember the most, out of all ten stories is the first. She lies with him and does nothing else but talk in a gentle sing-song voice as she cradles his balls in her hand. The connection grows in intensity. She looks at him lovingly. Talks about possibilities. He cums. Just her words alone and he orgasms right in her hand. Can you imagine that? To have that power is to own the world.
"Michael, I need to cum," I say gently "Just like you did Michael, I need that same thing. I need to make this mistake with you, and I hope that you will let me. I also hope that you will please me. And someday Michael, someday Michael, when it is all over, and you just come over for dinner, I hope you will forgive me."
"Maybe," she says, depending on circumstances, we can have wine with that dinner." She smiles
He looks unhappy; almost angry. Like this is a chore. This is not pleasing to her and she feels her anger rise.
I just had him cum in my mouth. Wow, is this really that bad? It might surprise him, but all of his friends would cum in their pants if I even said their name out loud and licked my lips. "I am sorry that this is such a fucking punishment for you Michael; to fuck me." I think but do not say. 'I feel bad. Must be just like going to the electric chair or getting spinal surgery."
I put the negativity out of my head.
The next move is mine. I open the purple lube and put it on his cock. He shivers a bit. I put some on me and I am so ready. "I am going to ride you," I say. "I am going to ride you from the top. He moves slightly and I struggle to hide my irritation, once again, I think "is it so fucking hard to not move? You do not have to actually do anything" but I do not say it aloud. I am too close to this first time here.
I just need for you to lie still sweetie."
I mount him. With my legs under me, I feel him slowly squeeze into me. He slows as I push up on his chest. He feels huge. I rock back and forth, and it is so raw. He is muscle and sinew. He presses his flesh into me. We are one. God, I feel like I am filled beyond what is sexually reasonable. I hump him first gently, then with a growing intensity until I am simply unable to cope. Till I imagine I float above, out of my body, and I see this lovely view of my back as I press my body into his as hard as I can. I am doing this and I am in the darkest moments of a winters lifetime.
I enter those seconds before my orgasm hits. The time where the term "getting your freak on" really means something. Where nothing matters. I imagine that if there existed, what is often referred to as "God's love," this pleasure would be it. This physical, psychological and emotional pleasure is God's love. The richness of what is to come is majestic. My orgasm arrives and it brings me to my knees. In reality, it breaks me.
I feel that first wave burst from within and it cripples me. I cum long and hard. It is a brutal experience that is almost cruel in its intensity; deeply carnal yet with an anger that has made me feel like I was laid bare. Like there are no secrets left. This is your mother. Naked and orgasmic. I feel like this is nasty as I look at his chest and grind my pussy into him into him yet again.
I fully intended to run this, but I feel a new sense of energy and all of a sudden, I feel like his bitch. I feel heat rise to my head and I try to calm him.
"I's OK sweetie," I tell him. "It's OK."
I feel his back stiffen and I feel the storm coming. He is going to cum again. "Enjoy sweetie. Enjoy," I say as I wrap my hand around his cock.
He emits a high-pitched sound and cums. I have never imagined I would feel him pulse in my hand this way. I put my other hand in the well-built small of his back and use my entire body to absorb his passion. The feel is loving. Deeply sexual and moving for a mother and son. I feel him spasm and his cock ejaculate in me. I feel him shudder. He can't seem to stop his orgasm. I have perhaps given him Gods love, if only for a second.
"It's OK Michael, let me please you. Yes, it's OK""
I hold him until he is calm. We lie this way for a log time. I pull him out of me slowly and hover over him. I hold his balls in my hand. Gently. A loving moment. He is more hard than soft. I kiss him. On his neck and then on the delicate underside of his cock. A connecting moment for a mother in love.
I have taken him. Just like that. Orgasmic beyond words but for me, just a lifeboat tossed in the dark night water that will last for two- or three-days, tops. One might say I emasculated him. That is one way of seeing the situation as I did, figurately of course, have his balls in my hand for a very long time. On the other hand, one can also say that I see him, in a weird way, as a husband. A man whose role is, among other things, to satisfy me.
I look at him as he dozes. I wonder what he is like as a lover. Not like this but a day-to-day lover. Is he gentle? Is he kind? Is he sexually generous? Does he lick her in the ways she needs to be licked? Does he bring her to bliss? The very best lover I ever had was a very gentle Russian who I suspect, was brutal during the day but was so kind to me in the evenings. He told me that a man should never even bring his cock near a woman until you have brought her to bliss. He said that orgasm you give to her is how you earn your way into her body. Even after that, you work to continue to please her until she can't live without you
I watch him continue to doze and I have to tell you this. I remember a short story from college. A professor of French said that if a man makes love to a woman properly, What's called "wedding night love" than if done right, all it will take is one long lick from "stem to stern" as she so deftly put it, to bring to her to bliss. One long lick. Can you imagine what it is like to be loved so well, so passionately, that you are just one lick away from your cum? Can you imagine the fire that would explode from within?
I am so desperate. I will need to teach him to lick me. To understand the way, I need to be coaxed. My guilt makes me need seduction. The way I am to be spoken to before he moves his mouth to my pretty wetness. Nothing he could do would make me cum more intensely. More quickly. His tongue touching places that are hidden and moist. To have him worship me in that way. To understand how intense my need is and then to make it your mission to satisfy it is a loving thing to do, to give. In the world, under those conditions, I would lose my mind.
"Michael, I need you on your back right here," I say.
I kiss him on the back of his neck as he turns over. He feels warm. I move my head to his warm soft middle. I kiss him there and then move down to his cock. I touch my lips to him slowly and he groans.
I pull my leg over his body and hold his cock in my hand. I am soaked.
"Lay still," I manage to say as I press him into me.
Now it is my turn. I move slowly. I feel his body tense as the head of his cock enters me.
"Shh…easy sweetie. Slow, slow, slow, easy."
He grunts and presses into me. I smell his breath on my neck.
"Easy sweetie. Easy baby, easy. I say. I hold him tightly against me. I kiss him. Easy baby, easy, I need you to lay still honey, just lay still.
I hold my hands against his chest. I stop and breathe and continue and stop again. He is impossibly thick. The final push had an almost anger to it. He went in right up to his balls. I hold my hands against his chest and sit up as I rock.
"Shh…easy my sweet. Do not cum," I say as that is the last thing I want.
"That's it. That's it sweetie, rock with me. Just like that" I say.
I ride him with increasing intensity, and I feel my orgasm lurking in the distance. I am becoming excited in a way that is not normal. It is less from lust than from desperation, from aloneness. I feel his strength as I ride him. He is built like a locomotive with muscles. That's what four years of wrestling does to a young man.
I feel myself becoming unable to hold back my pleasure. In the last few seconds, I angle my leg and his cock hits that place just off of my cervix. I feel that sensation of falling and aloneness
"Michael, Michael, I say.
I hear a high-pitched sound come from deep inside me.
"Heeeh, heeh I hear myself as Michael remains silent.
I grind his cock into me and in those few seconds, I cum. My orgasm hits me like a hammer. I cum so fucking hard. It is wave after wave coming from my depth. It is for a moment at least, crippling. I have not experienced this type of cum in my life. Ever. I am lost to the pleasures of the flesh and I feel ashamed. I have deep fear that I will never be satisfied. I am afraid that I might consume him.
I lean over his face and kiss him. This is new for me as I seldom kiss him and certainly never on the lips. It feels warm. I undo the clip that holds my hair back and it falls lightly across his handsome face.
"Put your arms around me," I tell him. I need to feel his love. He complies. His cock is still inside of her. It was almost impossible for her not to move. Not to grind.
I roll him on his side with him still inside of me. His eyes were closed. I feel myself smile. It was a sinful smile.
"Thank you, Michael. Thank you, sweetie," I said as I touched the smooth skin of his face. I needed that. I was so desperate. Please don't be angry at me, I said.
His eyes opened. They were angry eyes.
"Did you get what you needed"? he asked? I was so taken back. So shocked. His cock was hard again, and we were so alone here. My mind raced.
"You practically raped me, he said"
The Third Person
He seemed so angry.
She felt blind fear and immediately went for his balls, but he was covered with a pillow.
"You used me for your perverse pleasure. You abused me." He looked at her and their eyes met.
He came straight to the point; "I want anal sex."
It was out there. He said it. He wanted to take her in a way that was very different for her. In a way that would satisfy HIM! She backed up against the bedroom closet but in reality, there was no place to go. There was just the two of them and there is little she can do. This is her biggest fear. He is frozen with terror.
"Get away from me Michael. I mean it"
She watched as he lubed his swollen cock.
He glared at her. You could feel the rage. I sense he wanted her to pay for her lapse in judgement. He stared and lunged at her. He spun her around and locked an arm around her throat from behind. A fortuitous position for his needs. She gurgled and thrashed around in a panic.
Regardless of his strength, she was physically aggressive and as such, was a serious threat and was quite capable to hurting him. Quite capable. So, he did what was required. He raised her straight up with both of his powerful arms that were around her throat and pulled down on her fast. Hard. It was a wrestling move, not legal but highly effective because it is easy to administer and provides complete control. He really locked her down tight. And all that existed to me as the observer was her silence and his rage. He squeezed harder. He pulled her up and began to maneuver her backwards in the direction of his bed.
He was now the one that was in in complete control as she struggled to wedge her fingers under his knotted arms. She pushed hard with her legs to get on solid ground, but he was simply way too strong, she desperately dug her fingers into his arms, and he did not even react. He was so well muscled, and his expression was one of pure business. Just doing what is required. He did not give an inch.
I caught a glimpse of her face at about this time. It was the last time I saw it. She looked at me, but I wonder if she knew who I was. I wonder if it registered. She was purpling up in terms of color and her eyes were just starting to bulge. He pulled her around the room and kept her off balance as he moved her towards the bed. She fell to one knee as her right leg was just starting to convulse. He was going to take her out there and then. He lifted her off the floor and continued to pull her backward until they both fell on the bed with him on his back and her right on top of him facing up.
He used a scissoring technique from judo as a way to control her lower body movement and wrapped his legs around her middle. He then clamped down on her hard with his thighs. She pulled at his hair in a desperate attempt to fight back but that was to no avail. He pulled himself up lifting her to full height. Then he raised her about four inches off the ground and held her there. She looked out at him through her open left eye, reached out her hands to him, and slowly, first the left and then the right, fell to her side. They rocked gently and went still in a very pretty sort of way. In the sort of what that would make a person fall in love with you.
He held her like that for a long time. There was a beauty to it. An intimacy. It took a long time, and her struggle was wonderful. They held each other naked and he gave her what she wanted. He also did what he needed to do. He made her suffer for taking him that way.
It was his first time.
He closed the door with his foot as he slowly sunk his swollen member into her ass. He groaned a groan few will ever know.

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