All characters are over 18 and this is a fictional incest story.
So here is my story about my pervert son with an extremely high sex drive and how he’s always trying to have sex with me and one night he succeeded.
It started one Sunday night after a night of drinking. I woke up to the sensation of being touched. I felt a hand rubbing my pussy through my laced panties, it felt good but it was wrong.
I was being spooned, I looked over my shoulder it was my 19-year-old son and felt his boner against my ass cheeks.
“Get out NOW,” I shouted to him as he was shocked and made up some bullshit story.
“Oh shit, sorry I was sleepwalking.” He said as he got out of my bed and I pulled my nightie back down.
I didn’t believe him for a second. Sleepwalking? He knew exactly what he was doing. The audacity, the violation… it made my skin crawl. “Get out,” I repeated, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and disgust. “And don’t you ever, EVER, come near me like that again.”
He mumbled another apology, his eyes darting around the room, avoiding my gaze. I watched him leave, my heart pounding in my chest. The image of his face, the feel of his body against mine, it was all burned into my memory.
I lay there for hours, unable to sleep. The shame washed over me in waves. How could my own son do something like this? Was it my fault? Had I somehow encouraged him, even unintentionally? I replayed every interaction we’d had in recent months, searching for clues, for answers.
The following night the same thing this time I woke to my panties sliding down just passed my ass. He was trying to put his thing inside me.
“What the fuck,” I said as he scrambled out of my bed pulling up his boxers. Fuck he nearly actually got it in me. Deep down I should be angry I was, the thought he wanted to fuck me. But deep down I haven’t had a dick in a while.
The following morning, the house felt different. Heavy. Laden with unspoken tension. I avoided eye contact with my son, busying myself with chores, anything to keep my hands and mind occupied. He, in turn, seemed to be doing the same, retreating into his room, the door firmly shut.
The silence was deafening. It amplified the memories of the previous nights, the unwanted touches, the near violation. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being unsafe in my own home, a feeling that gnawed at my insides.
As the day wore on, the need to address the situation became overwhelming. I couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. I couldn’t simply ignore the fact that my son had twice invaded my privacy, my body, in such a disturbing way.
Taking a deep breath, I walked to his room and knocked. “We need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.
A moment of silence, then the door creaked open. He stood there, looking sheepish, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and apprehension. “Mom, I…”
“No,” I interrupted, “I need to talk. Come to the living room.”
I waited for him on the sofa, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. When he finally joined me, he sat at the far end of the couch, a clear distance between us.
“What you did,” I began, my voice shaking, “was wrong. It was a violation. I’m your mother, not some object for you to… to…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say the words.
He hung his head, shame radiating from him. “I know, Mom. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said, my voice rising. “Sleepwalking? Twice? That’s bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
He flinched at my words, but didn’t deny them. “I… I have needs,” he mumbled, his face reddening. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while…”
“That’s no excuse!” I retorted. “You can’t just take what you want, especially not from your own mother. You need to get help. Professional help. This isn’t normal. I get you are a man now and you get urges. Trust me women do too, I haven’t done it in years. Hell, I could do with a di…” I stopped myself. His eyes fixated on my cleavage. He obviously needed to get rid of tension, maybe I was going too hard on him, should I just have let him take me that way?
A week later, he finally stopped and I slept great. Until one night I didnt wake up in time. I woke to the sound of slapping and I started moaning loudly. I was being spooned by him, my panties down and a really good feeling between my legs. His cock sliding in and out of my pussy.
I froze, my mind struggling to catch up with the sensations flooding my body. It was happening again. But this time, I hadn’t woken up in time to stop it. His movements were rhythmic and insistent, and despite the horror and anger swirling within me, a traitorous part of me couldn’t deny the pleasure.
My ass clapped loudly against his hips as his cock pumped in and out, “Ahhh honey… mmm fuck, you shouldn’t be…”
My voice trailed off, a mix of protest and something else I couldn’t quite name. The lines were blurring, the boundaries dissolving.
He didn’t stop. If anything, my words seemed to embolden him. He quickened his pace, his breath hot against my neck. He kept on pounding harder his dick felt big and good. “Mom…” he groaned, “it feels so good… Shall I stop Mom?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of the situation. My son, inside me. The thought was repulsive, yet the sensations were undeniable. My body was responding, betraying my will.
“Don’t…” I managed to choke out, the word laced with a mixture of disgust and… something else. Was it desire? No, it couldn’t be. This was wrong, so wrong.
But as he continued to move, the protests in my mind grew fainter, drowned out by the rising tide of pleasure. His hands found my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples, sending shivers down my spine. I bit my lip, fighting back a moan.
“Mom…” he whispered again, his voice thick with lust. “Tell me to stop. Please.”
“Ahhh harder,” I moaned, “Baby ahh yeah fuck my pussy. Don’t stop oh fuck your cocks big. Bang mommy’s fuck hole you dirty boy. Ahhh… Do I need to start leaving my panties off for you… fuck you feel good give it to me.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth, shocking me even as I said them. Bang mommy’s fuck hole you dirty boy. The sheer audacity, the depravity, the truth hidden in the depths of my repressed desire. It was raw, ugly, and undeniably me in that moment. His thrusts became more frenzied, his breathing ragged as if he was trying to keep a lid on something explosive inside him. My body, traitorous and hot, arched into him, meeting his every push. The friction was incredible, burning and soothing all at once. Years of unmet needs, years of pretending, years of motherhood and responsibility melted away in the heat of his touch, the depth of his penetration.
He groaned my name again, a guttural sound ripped from his throat. “Mom… oh god, Mom…”
It was wrong. Every fibre of my being screamed it was wrong. But the pleasure… the pleasure was a tidal wave, pulling me under, drowning out the screams of my conscience. My hands reached back, finding his hair, pulling his head closer as he buried his face in my neck, biting softly, leaving a trail of fire.
“Ahhh… baby… yes… just like that…” My voice was a broken whisper, laced with need. I didn’t care anymore. Not about right or wrong, not about consequences, not about the life I had built. All that mattered was this moment, this forbidden union, the primal urge that had consumed us both.
He found a rhythm that sent tremors through me, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside that had been dormant for too long. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, pulling him even closer, wanting to absorb every inch of him. My nipples were hard peaks against his chest, aching for attention. He must have felt it because his hand moved from my breast, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin, sending electric jolts through me.
“You like that, Mom?” he panted, his voice hoarse.
“Yes… everything… don’t stop…”
The bed creaked with our movements, a silent witness to our transgression. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and something else… something dangerous and irreversible. I closed my eyes again, letting the sensations wash over me. His body was strong and young, full of energy I hadn’t felt in years. He moved with a raw, urgent power that left me breathless.
He started whispering things then, low and dirty, things sons shouldn’t say to their mothers, things I shouldn’t listen to, shouldn’t crave. But I did. I devoured every word, every touch, every thrust. It was like unlocking a door I never knew existed, a part of myself I had kept hidden, even from myself.
His pace quickened, the thrusts becoming rapid and shallow. I felt the tension building inside me, the peak of the wave approaching. My body convulsed around him, squeezing, pulling. I dug my nails into his back, leaving crescent moons on his skin.
“Oh god… I’m close…” I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily.
He mirrored my urgency, his grunts turning into desperate cries. He pulled me closer still, burying himself deeper, his whole body trembling. And then, it hit me. A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure, so intense it stole my breath. My body rippled with contractions, squeezing him tight. A loud moan escaped my lips, long and drawn out.
He groaned my name again, his voice thick with release, and I felt a warm rush deep inside me. Firing thick robes of cum inside my cunt. He shuddered against me, his body going momentarily rigid before collapsing, heavy and breathless, on my back.
His cock slipped out my creamy pussy as I pulled my panties back up. I wasn’t even angry, what the fuck is wrong with me. I sighed, “Happy now, you got what you wanted.”
“I am, but why didn’t you stop me. I would have done,” he said still panting.
I laughed a little, the sound dry and mirthless. “Oh honey, you think I could have stopped you? Not after the way you were going at it. You were like a man possessed. Shall I stop wearing panties for bed. Maybe I should,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I should just let you take what you want, when you want it.”
“Wow really mom,” he sounded shocked.
I turned to face him, my expression unreadable. “Yes, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like that. Don’t get me wrong, it was wrong, but… it was good too. So very good.” He looked at me, his eyes searching mine, as if trying to gauge my sincerity.
“You’re not upset? You’re okay with this?” I shrugged, a small, wry smile playing on my lips. “I’m not okay with it, but I’m not entirely opposed to it either. You want the truth? I think a part of me has been waiting for this, craving it, even if I didn’t realize it until now.” He let out a soft whistle.
“Whoa, Mom. You’re really opening up here.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
“Look, I know this is a lot to process,” I said, my voice softening. “But I think we need to talk about what just happened, and where we go from here. Because you have just taken your mother Viginally.”
His eyes glazed, “Oh mom the way you said taken your mother Viginally god.”
The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed, my sheets still warm from the night before. I lay there for a moment, replaying the events in my head, trying to make sense of the mix of emotions swirling inside me. Shame, guilt, desire, confusion… it was a toxic cocktail that left me feeling drained and disoriented. I threw off the covers and got out of bed, padding to the bathroom to start my morning routine.
As the days went on every night I would leave my panties off. My own son, my flesh and blood, had become an addiction I couldn’t shake. The weeks blurred together in a haze of secret trysts and stolen moments.