Mother/Son Incest Games We Play Ch. 02

When I knew he'd be entering my bedroom naked, with him naked and with me naked too, I'd give him a sexy show of my naked body by not wearing anything to bed. God, first my father and now my son, I truly am such an incestuous whore. I could tell which nights he'd be horny enough to do something like that, usually it was a night we were watching a movie while cuddling on the couch. Always it was a night that I had been sexually teasing him and incestuously arousing him.

With me purposely rubbing my nightgown clad body up against him, it was always a night that he had an erection brushing up and pushing up against me. Squishing my breasts against his chest, it was always a night that I held him while he held me. With the both of us nearly naked, it was always a night when I was wearing my sheerest, shortest, and lowest cut, sexy nightgown and he was wearing pajamas without underwear. Every now and then, feeling as much as he could, as if I wasn't aware of what he was doing, he'd slide a slow, horny hand across my ass or a stealth hand across my breasts and nipples.

With all of the tops of my nightgowns falling open with me whenever I leaned forward and remained in that position, I knew he had a perfect down nightgown view of my tits. Like grandfather like grandson, I knew my son loved my tits as much as his grandfather loved my big breasts. Having practiced the move in the mirror, I knew Daniel could constantly and continually see my areolas, my nipples, and the entire shape of my breasts. It made me so wet knowing that my son was staring, leering, and lusting over my tits.

With all of my nightgowns so short and so sheer, it was so easy for me to flash him my pussy while making it appear unintentional. Truth be told, in the way my son seemingly enjoyed flashing me his cock, I loved flashing my son my cunt. In the way that he continually flashed me his cock, I continually flashed him my tits, my ass, and my pussy.

I knew he'd be making a naked appearance in my bedroom when I deliberately rested my hand on his flaccid prick or slid my hand across his erect cock while making my seemingly innocent touches appear unintentional. I knew he'd be making a naked appearance in my bedroom when I felt his hand lightly feel the side of my breast through my nightgown with his fingers, his hand, or his forearm. With his incestuous lust so predictable, it was always when I wasn't sitting ladylike and I deliberately flashed him my panties or my pussy that I knew he'd be masturbating himself in my bedroom.

Whenever I rested with my head in his lap and when his erection made a surprise appearance out of his pajama bottoms, I knew he'd be making a naked, midnight appearance in my bedroom. Whenever he flashed me his erect cock that was positioned so close to my hand or to my mouth, I knew he'd be giving me a late night or early morning masturbation show. Pretending I didn't notice his exposed cock in the way that I pretended not to notice whenever I was exposed to my son, I knew which nights he'd be masturbating himself while he stood by my bed. A sexy mother and son incestuous game we played, in the way my father flashed me his cock before, my son was flashing me his cock now.

'Cock, cock, cock. I love cock. I love feeling cocks through men's clothes. I love fondling the head of a man's prick. I love feeling the weight of it while holding a dick in my hand. I love cupping a man's testicles while sucking him. I love stroking a cock, sucking a cock, and fucking a cock,' I thought while thinking of my son's erect prick.

He wasn't the only one who was hot and horny; that's for sure. Whenever his cock emerged from his pajama bottoms I so wanted to hold it, stroke it, and suck it before fucking it. Never having the nerve, every time I saw his erect dick, I wanted to wrap my long, manicured fingers around his prick and stroke him. Every time he had an erection, I wanted to kneel in front of him, remove him from his pajamas, and suck him. While masturbating myself with my vibrator and dildo, I've sexually fantasized about him cumming across my breasts, all over my face, and even in my mouth. With his cum sliding down my throat so easily, I couldn't help but wonder if my son's cum tasted as good as my father's cum tasted.

With him obviously just as horny and sexually frustrated as I was, I'd do anything to make love to my son before fucking and sucking him. I'd do anything for him to lick and finger my pussy before cumming in my pussy and/or in my mouth. Only, just as I couldn't freely have forbidden sex with my father, I can't possibly have forbidden sex with my son. How can I possibly do that? I'm his mother and he's my son.

Instead we continued playing our silly, sexually frustrating games of exhibitionism and voyeurism. Playing along with him, before he entered my room, I'd lower my nightgown straps low enough to show him my naked breasts. I loved showing my son my tits, my areolas, and my nipples. Albeit dark in my room but once his eyes got used to the darkness, it was still light enough for him to see my big tits and erect nipples. Or I'd kick off the covers and raise my nightgown to my waist for him to see my pussy while pretending that I was sleeping. Showing him my breasts, my cunt, and/or my ass sexually aroused me as much as I imagined it obviously sexually aroused him. Then, after he masturbated himself in my bedroom and returned to his bedroom, I'd masturbate myself too.

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Only, lately, a new addition to the sexy, incestuous games we played, he started masturbating right beside my bed, so close that I could hear him stroke himself and so close that I could reach up and touch his cock. With him escalating the game of incest, now whenever I knew he'd be paying me a visit, I'd go to bed naked. Totally naked, I was naked in hopes my son would remove the sheet from my naked body in the way I had done with my father. Then, instead of hoping that he'd remove the sheet, suspecting that he wouldn't, when I heard him walking down the hall, I'd kick off the covers and lay there totally exposed to my son's horny eyes.

As if he was a jewel thief in the night, I could hear him quietly and slowly moving beside me. As if he was a rapist who broke in my house and crept in my bedroom, I could see that he was naked. Just as his grandfather was before him, my son was naked and masturbating himself in my bedroom now. Sometimes I was so tempted to flick on the light to see his cock, touch his cock, stroke his cock, suck his cock, and fuck his cock, but I never did. Instead, I watched him stroking his cock in his hand over the darkened view of my naked body while he masturbated himself in a tissue.

Then, as our incestuous game progressed, instead of using a tissue to catch his cum, he'd used me. He'd cum on me. My son would actually cum on me as if I was some whore instead of his mother. He'd use my naked body to collect his cum. Just as my father ejaculated his cum in my mouth, my son would cum on me. Just as I still can't believe that my father had me give him a feigned, sleeping blowjob, I still can't believe my son ejaculated his cum on my naked body.

My son would cum on my naked legs, my naked belly, my naked tits, and even on my face and in my hair. The first time I felt his warm oozy cum shooting, dripping, and dribbling on me, I was startled but I didn't react. Just as I did when I sucked my father's cock and he ejaculated in my mouth, I wanted him to think that I was still sleeping. I wanted him to think that I wasn't aware that he was giving me a sleeping cum bath.

Now, when he enters my bedroom to masturbate, I pretend I'm snoring. Giving him a target for his cum, I even open my mouth and leave it open. With my mouth open as if I'm a baby bird waiting to be fed, leaving no evidence behind that he was in my room masturbating, he comes inside my mouth and I swallow his cum.

Squatting down closer so as not to get his cum on my lips and/or chin, the head of his cock is so close to my open mouth that his cock is almost in side of my mouth. It takes all the self-control that I have not to reach up and pull his prick in my mouth to suck it. In the way that I swallowed my father's cum back then when cuddling on the couch with him, I swallow my son's cum now whenever he creeps in my bedroom to masturbate his cum in my mouth.

'Oh, my God, I'm such an incestuous whore. I truly am such an incestuous whore to show my son my naked body and to allow him to cum in my open mouth.'

My incestuous behavior is so wicked. My incestuous behavior is just as perversely perverted as my son's incestuous behavior and my father's incestuous behavior before him. If it was not enough that I exposed my naked body to my son, albeit in my dark bedroom, seemingly it was not enough that my son masturbated by my bed and ejaculated all over my naked body. If it was not enough that my son ejaculated his cum all over my naked body, seemingly it was not enough that he ejaculated his cum in my mouth and I swallowed his cum. When the time comes to meet our maker, we're both going to Hell.

Yet, even though he was giving me a masturbation show that culminated in him cumming in my mouth, I wanted more. With him leaving me begging for more, I always wanted more. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to feel me and fondle my naked body. I wanted to feel his warm, naked body beside me. As much as I wanted to suck my son, I wanted my son to fuck me. I wanted my son to finger and lick my soaking, wet cunt.

As much as I wanted him to fondle my breasts and finger my nipples, I wanted to feel his cock in my hand, stroke his cock, and suck his cock before fucking his cock. With us being so perversely perverted for so long, I don't know how to actually seduce my son. Other than just asking him to sleep with me, there was no other way that I could think of us having sex. The next day, I asked him my sexually inappropriate question.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

"Daniel," I said.

He looked at me with expectant eyes. He looked at me as if I was going to ask him if I could blow him. He always looked at me with sexual hopefulness in the way that I looked at him with sexual frustration and in the way we both looked at one another with incestuous lust. Yet, not to be denied, having always regretted the decision not to be more incestuously proactive with my father, I wasn't about to make the same mistake with my son. Enough was enough. Now was the time. I was done playing silly mother and son, incestuous games.

"I need a favor," I said.

He gave me a look of concern before giving me a smile.

"A favor? You don't have to ask me to do you a favor, Mother," he said with a nervous, little laugh. "I'd do anything for you. What is it? What's your favor, Mother?

In the way he called me Mother with a nervous, little smile, he always reminded me of Norman Bates of the Bates Motel fame whenever he called me Mother. I fidgeted with my hands as if was having a difficult time asking him my favor when I wasn't. I just wanted him to think that I was.

"I'm embarrassed to ask you," I said prolonging his curiosity.

He wrinkled his brow while staring at the up skirt flashes that I was giving him of my bright, white, bikini panties when crossing and uncrossing my long, shapely legs. Whenever I knew I'd be flashing him my panties, never wearing my black panties, I always wore my bright, white, sheer, sexy, bikini panties. I knew if he stared long enough and looked hard enough he could see my blonde, trimmed cunt. If he stared long enough and hard enough, he could see my pussy slit and my camel toe too. With me having no modesty, embarrassment, or shame, I was such a degenerate to expose myself to my son in such a sexually nasty way.

"Please don't be embarrassed Mom. We never had any secrets between us," he said. "Why start now?"

I looked up at him with sad eyes. I gave him a look as if I was about to start crying. I even wiped a feigned tear from my eye.

"My request is going to sound bizarre and I'm sorry for that but I need to ask you my favor," I said.

He waved a hand of nonsense at me.

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing you say will ever sound bizarre to me. I love you, Mother."

While so wanting to call him Norman instead of Daniel, I sighed loudly while rolling my eyes. He was so easy. He was so needy. Now I wondered why I hadn't sexually seduced my son years ago.

"You may think of me differently after I ask you my favor," I said uncrossing my legs to lean forward in my chair to give him a down blouse view of my cleavage and bra.

My knees were parted just enough to give him a continual view of my snow, white panties. I loved it when my son stared at my panty clad cunt just as I loved it when he stared down my blouse at my bra clad breasts.

"What is it, Mother. Tell me," he said.

If I was an actress playing role of a distraught mother, I'd win the Oscar.

"I'm afraid you may think less of me if I ask you what I'm about to ask you," I said. "I'm afraid you may think me a whore when I'm just sad and lonely."

He made a sour face while shaking his head from side to side. He looked at me as if I was nuts.

"Think of you as a whore?" He made another sour face while looking at me shocked that I'd even think that never mind say that. "No matter what you asked or did, I'd never think of you as a whore, Mom. You're my mother and I love you," he said again. "I love you, Mommy," he said while staring at all that he could see of my bra clad tits and my panty clad pussy.

I put my hands in front of my face as if hiding myself from him. When I covered my eyes with my hands, I knew he'd use that as his opportunity to stare longer and harder at my expose panties and at the down blouse I was giving him of my cleavage and bra. Then, when I removed my hands, I looked up and made eye contact with him.

"I'm so sorry to ask you this. I'm so sorry to put you on the spot and to pressure you but I don't know what else to say and how else to ask you," I said looking as if I was going to cry again.

He stood from his chair to walk over to me and to kneel in front of me. Now he was getting a bullseye down blouse view of my cleavage and bra and the perfect view of my panty clad crotch. His nose was so close to my cunt that I was surprised that he couldn't smell the musky aroma of my wet pussy through my panties.

"Tell me, Mother. Just ask me. Go ahead and blurt it out. I promise not to think less of you. I promise not to think of you a whore," he said.

I gave him a sad, little, pathetic smile that I had practiced in the mirror before coming out to the living room. At that moment Meryl Steep or Judy Dench had nothing on me.

"Would you..." I said pausing for effect. "Could you..." I said pausing again.

I looked at him with sad desperation when I was feeling sexual jubilation inside.

"What Mother? What is it you need to ask of me?"

As if I was asking him not to go out with his friends but to stay home with me, I gave him my best needy mother look.

"Would you sleep with me tonight."

In the way my mouth was open when my son masturbated his cum inside, he looked at me wide-eyed with his mouth gaping open.

To be continued...

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