Oedipus Conquest

If Mom was my wife, I would lick and dick her every day of the week, twice on Saturday.

The thought jolted the young man. Did I just mentally say that I wanted to eat out and fuck my own mother? Thankfully the class was over as his cerebral inquiry was offset by the sound of the other students getting out of their seats and chatter amongst themselves.

Dinner was late that night because his dad came home late. As the three of them ate at the table pretty much in silence, Peter looked individually at his parents. He had one word for each, and a sentiment about the one word. For his father, it was 'douche;' the feeling was justification. For his mother, it was 'MILF;' the feeling was guilt.

Later on the young college student, in an effort to get his mind off of things, settled comfortably onto the couch to watch the Miami Heat on the living room's 70" LED. At the start of the second quarter, he heard his parents upstairs talking. Actually it was arguing. He got up and walked to the stairs to hear better.

"Why not now?" she asked, almost pleading.

"Would you be quiet? Peter's downstairs. He could hear us."

"He's watching the Heat and you know how zoned how he gets when watches the game. Now, speaking of heat—I'm in heat."

Peter blinked when he heard this from his mother.

"Oh, Val. Please" his father said.

"Well...why not now?" she repeated.

"BECAUSE, I am exhausted. Do you know what time I came home tonight?"

"Oh sure. How long were you at O'Leary's with the boys before your hunger pains got the better of you?"

Zing! thought Peter. Nice comeback, Mom.

"Fuck you!" his father barked.

"Fuck you, too!"

The son's head jumped back when he heard the mutual cursing. Then he heard the bed squeak a little, soon followed by the bathroom door opening and closing loudly. He knew his mother left the bedroom for the bathroom. Peter returned to the couch and the game. He was watching the action but he wasn't concentrating. He felt bad for his mom. The image of her on the lounger returned. He now felt anger and amazement at his father. He made an effort to get back into the game.

After almost 15 minutes, it dawned on Peter that he didn't hear the bathroom door open again signifying that his mother finished her shower. Putting on her make-up? She took a year and a day. Showering? She was done in no more than five minutes. He wondered what was going on. He returned to the bottom of the stairs and listened. The only thing he could hear clearly was the sound of his father snoring, which was similar to a tracker-trailer downshifting on the highway. Peter crept up the stairs. He could now hear the shower. He padded to the bathroom door, putting his ear to the door.

A low sounding "Ohhh" could be distinguished from within the running water. Peter knew his mom was masturbating in the shower. Once again, the scalding-hot image of her on the lounger doing the same thing returned to his mind. He tried to block the image but another moan from within the bathroom kept the porno memory going. He swallowed hard. His brain was Photoshopping her beautiful body, now without the bikini remnants and completely naked, in the shower doing the same self-pleasuring. His penis was becoming engorged. He closed his eyes and gently rested his head against the door, (1) to steady himself, and (2) to hear more maternal masturbatory audio. He got more.

"Aaahhhh!"

His prick was three-quarters completely hard.

The son remained leaning against the door for a few more seconds. He wasn't sure what to do. His thinking was scrambled. The inside of his head felt like the spin cycle on a washing machine. He made a decision. He opened his eyes, lifted his head and moved away from the door.

Peter gently turned the bathroom door and entered. He was nude. He looked at the shower. Through the closed, frosted door and descending water he saw the curvy shape of his mother. One knee was bent to the side and a hand was between her thighs. The other arm was also bent, with that hand rubbing a breast.

"Uuugghhhhh!" she groaned.

The young dick, now at full mast, twitched at the orgasmic sound. He moved forward, reaching for the shower door. He smoothly opened the door. Before Valerie opened her eyes at the unexpected sound, Peter quickly visually took in the incredible sight before him. His foxy mother, naked, masturbating in the shower, was breathtaking! The shower had completed soaked her black hair—along with her pubic hair—and steadily cascaded down her sumptuous body. The water gave her big tits, puffed nipples, relatively thin waist, curvy hips, long spread legs, and distended labia a sexy sheen. Her lovely face displayed such hot urgency as one hand was massaging a tit and the fingers of the other one were waving over her inflamed clit.

Awoken from her erotic daze by the noise of the sliding shower door, Valerie exclaimed, "Peter!"

The startled mother saw her only child, who had just opened the shower door while she was playing with herself, standing before her...naked as she. Just as he rapidly visually absorbed her body, she couldn't help but do the same. His chest was fairly chiseled from his frequent gym visits. It was also pretty hairy, thanks to their Italian heritage. His arms were well-formed as were his thighs. Of course, what got her attention was his genitals. She hadn't seen these since he "graduated" from Pampers. Before her, pointing at her, was a lustrous and solid cock--her son's cock. The length was impressive, with a thick blue vein and bulbous top. Below it was two large and hefty testicles. Above it all was black, curly pubic hair. Seeing this luxurious package of young manhood caused Valerie's hands to involuntarily squeeze the breast and flick the clit.

His unexpected action along with her unexpected manual reactions and the gravity of the situation made her drop her hands to her sides and look at him square in the eyes.

"Peter! What are you doing here?!"

A confident smile appeared as he brought his right index finger to his lips and he uttered the ubiquitous, "Shhh." He lifted a leg to enter the shower. This caused Valerie's eyes to return to his groin, watching as his leg motion caused his captivating balls to jingle and his splendid erection to bob. Once again Valerie was surprised at her bodily reaction as she stepped to the side to allow Peter to join her in the shower. He turned slightly to close the door. Her eyes went back to his face.

"Peter, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? Your father is—" she was cut off as he turned to fully face her, his rigid member swinging back into view and thus causing her eyes to shift back down there. She was optically enraptured with her son's hard-on. She heard him say "Shhh" again. It was this sound that made her over-stimulated and overworked eyes look again at his face.

He sure is handsome her mind blurted out. And hung like a horse.

Peter finished her statement, "...is out like a knockout." He smiled. "Snoring like a busted chainsaw." She chuckled, and returned the smile. Soon her grin disappeared while his remained, and looked confident. She appeared now a combination of puzzlement, wanting, unfilled masturbatory hunger, and knowing this whole moment was illicit.

It seemed like an eternity as the verbal silence between the two, mother and son, ensued. The only sound was the shower mixed with their shared, arduous breathing. They stood off to the side of the descending water. Their eyes were locked on each other. His dick was so hard it ached. His testes, brimming with rich cum, were taut. Her breasts were hoping for hands other than Valerie's. He had interrupted her just as she was peaking. Her arousal had been interrupted, and then returned. Her swollen cunt lips throbbed and a new round of discharge was being released. She broke the silence.

"Peter, we can't."

"Mom, I saw you the other day on the sunning deck."

She was stunned by this revelation.

"It was so fucking hot watching you play with yourself! I came—in my pants, and I didn't even touch myself!"

Valerie's dark brown eyes widened at this. Despite the fact that this was her son, after being ignored for so long by her husband she often wondered about her own attractiveness, let alone causing a man to cum without masturbating.

Peter continued. "YOU'RE so fucking hot, Mom!"

Despite the forbiddeness of the whole situation, the woman drank in the compliment. She continued to silently look at him. He continued.

"Dad's an ass. He'd rather do overtime or hang out with his buddies than be with you. If I was him, I'd fuck you and eat you out every chance I got."

This forbidden promise caused her nipples and vulva to tingle. It seemed like a century since Alex went down on her. And in terms of actual intercourse he was selfish, considering a race between her and him who would cum first more important. She remained quiet, sensing Peter had more to say.

"It's not just sex, Mom. I want to be with you—in every way. I want to be the husband he's not."

Steady, Val, he's touching your heart, her self-defenses warned.

"Your a beautiful woman. Beautiful on the outside and inside."

I can't remember the last time his father complimented me.

"I love you, Mom. Both as a mom...and as a woman."

A tear slowly made its way out of her eye and down slid to her now quivering lips. He leaned into her to kiss her.

"Peter, this is in—"she couldn't finish the word, or the attempt to stop his action. She couldn't finish the statement because her son pressed his lips against hers and she responded. The ensuing kiss was long and sensual. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

After a few seconds, she grudgingly broke the kiss to place her lips next to his ear. "I love you, too, Peter. Both as my son...and as a man," she whispered. Her lips reconnected with his, as she put her arms around his shoulders.

Valerie shivered as she felt his erect penis. It brushed against her stomach as they embraced in the kiss sequel. She looked down at his manhood. The penile head reminded her of a mushroom and the hole seemed to pulse at her. Peter also looked down, seeing his mom gaze at his staff. He felt a perverse sense of pride.

"Turn around, face the wall, place your hands on the tile, and spread those beautiful legs," the son directed.

The mother smiled seductively and approvingly. She turned around so that her back faced Peter and pressed both her palms against the shower wall. She glanced over her shoulder at her studly son with a knowing look. She didn't have to be told what to do next. She widened her stance and raised her ass. It stuck up in the air like a ripe peach.

Peter was in literal shock and awe at his mother's butt. Her cheeks had just a slight streak of flab in them but other wise they were scrumptious-looking buns. They were full, curvy, and splayed to reveal her sodden—and forbidden—cunt. The lips were swollen and open.

"Mom, you have an ass and cunt to die for," he summarized as he leaned inward to enter her.

Valerie opened her mouth to either laugh or say "Why thank you, dear son." She wasn't sure which was going to be her reply to the incestuous compliment. Instead, she responded differently.

"Ugggghhhh!"

It was a primal, guttural moan, and the satisfying reaction to the initial penetration of Peter's cock into her vagina. While he held her waist his "tip of the spear," as the military says, penetrated her slowly. Only the top quarter of his manhood slipped into her slick, yearning crevice, but it made her spread feet get up on tippy toes and her palms press firmer against the shower wall. She sensed that he figured it had been a while since his father had 'did' her and he didn't want to ram the whole thing in.

A caring lover—sweet. A caring, forbidden lover—priceless.

For the son, he felt as if his hardened penis was slowly plunging into a scorching, buttery world. He was commencing to fuck from behind his sex-starved, nude, gorgeous mother in the shower of their home, while his father was sound asleep. (The Ambien tablet he slipped into his father's mouth before returning to the bathroom would definitely help.) Peter felt both elated and dizzy as his hard manhood seemed to be sucked down into her fiery furnace by her cunt's own power and desire. This was inconceivable...and incestuous. It was the incest that made it inconceivable...and totally thrilling! It was his turn to moan.

"Aaarrgghhhh! Ohhhh, mom! You feel so FUCKING GOOD!"

Valerie, when she initially and joyously felt her son's prick make it's first-ever entrance into her snatch, was facing the wall. She looked at him over her shoulder and returned the accolade.

"You, too, baby! Oh, my sweet baby boy! Your big dick feels so good in mommy's pussy!"

The randy lad pushed onward and inward. More of his luscious erection plowed into her syrupy cunt. It was just a matter of seconds before the college student had bottomed out.

The two grunted simultaneously when they felt the entire length of his fervent shaft, ably assisted by her flowing secretions, was completely inside her delirious slit. Peter, looking down at the small gyrations of Valerie's ass, commenced giving his stunning mom the prized fucking she so deserved and needed.

Valerie wanted to scream but was afraid her husband would hear her. Instead she bit down on her lip. Peter saw this.

"Don't worry. I put one of your Ambiens in Dad's mouth before I came into the bathroom."

Still biting her lip, her facial expression silently asked, "I can scream?" He nodded.

"Oooohhhhh, Peeeeter!"

He smiled, happy that she was happy she could be loud. He was also happy as he ratcheted up his thrusting motions and poured on the pounding.

Valerie look forward at the tiled wall and relished in the feeling...a dick bigger than her husband's was lavishly working on pleasing her and her pussy. Her weeping hole provided the saturated traction this delicious slab of young male-meat keenly utilized to jab back and forth. The realization this was her son screwing her didn't phase her. As her sugar walls rippled in delight along his ramrod and sensing that this was not only going to be a satisfying lay but unbelievable lay, she smiled to herself.

"Aaahhh! That's it, sweety. Fuck mommy's pussy! I need it so bad! Fuck your mother! Fuck me!" she heatedly cheered on.

Peter was only too happy to comply as he banged Valerie senseless. Loud, wet, and intentional slapping sounds echoed throughout the bathroom as parent and son humped in wild abandonment under the shower nozzle.

Soon, though, he had to hold off just a bit. The son knew it wouldn't be long before he was going to cum. He really, really wanted her to peak first. He leaned in, removing his hands from her waist, and put them under her hanging, twirling breasts. Her shaky, hard nipples scratched his palms. His hands embraced his mother's copious tits, caressing them repeatedly.

"Oh, yes, Petey! Squeeze mommy's tits! It feels so good! Squeeze 'em!"

Peter was besides himself. In addition to fucking his fine-looking mom from behind, he now was fondling her big, swinging breasts. Their weight in his hands, the erect nubs seemingly burning his palms—it was an incredible rush for him!

The son's body signaled that it was about climax. He felt a little dejected because he wanted her to go first.

"I'm going to cum."

Being his mother, even now in their illicit union, Valerie sensed by the tone of Peter's voice there was something amiss. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"What's the matter, baby? Cum inside of me. You know I had my tubes tied."

"No, that's not it," he stammered as he maintained his continuous plunging in and out of her glossy, velvety crevasse. "I wanted you to cum first."

Valerie was taken back. He wanted me to cum first. Even now, in this forbidden fuck, he thinks of my pleasure first. What a doll! She smiled at him.

"Oh, Peter! Thank you," she palpitated. "But you do it. You cum first. Cum into momma! I am right behind you."

The hard-working son resumed his hold of her waist as his thrusted like a piston on Autopilot. Valerie's cunt had been leaking pussy juice like the Exxon Valdez. Thus, the tempo of the wet slapping sounds increased. A few more seconds of pitching and catching, and then Peter roared and thrusted mightily.

"Aaarrrgghhhh! Mom, I'm cumming!"

The first of countless strands of thick, male milk bolted from his fast-moving dick into the responsive and electrified canal of Valerie's sex.

"Oohhhhh, yes, Peter!" she wildly applauded.

The screaming of his own voice and his mother's woke him up. Peter, was jolted from his sleep. He shook his head to in an effort to fully wake.

Wow! What an extremely hot dream.

The college kid shook his head a second time. This time it was an attempt to figure out what just happened, and what was happening. After he heard through the bathroom door his mother masturbating, he came back down stairs. Guilt had gotten the better of him, after he lingered at the door. He had remained—yet again— to hear his mom moan in self-pleasure within the sound of the running water. He got aroused—again. That's when Guilt bitch-slapped him and he retreated to the living room couch. He tried to resume concentrating on the basketball game but he couldn't. His young cock was stiff...thanks to his mother, a second time. His mind was heavy with conflicting thoughts. Eventually he fell asleep from the mental wear, and dreamt that he slipped his father an Ambien, disrobed in his room, returned to the bathroom, went in and fucked his horny and willing mother.

He was now pondering. His eyes were on the post-game wrap-up but he wasn't concentrating on it. He could still hear his mother's showery groans. His mind replayed the afternoon on the lounger. His pecker was rising again at the reviewed sound and sight. Guilt was giving way to a realization. Peter could not deny the fact that his mother had an incredibly hot body and he was cognizant—enjoyably—of this reality. He was starting to sexually desire his mother.

It greatly surprised him that the notion of maternal incest did not bother him much. On the contrary, it seemed to feed into an obvious of loop of an attractive 40-something woman being sexually ignored by her husband and that Peter was keenly aware of this ignoring. It was inescapable. It was happening to his parents in his home.

While the sexual ignoring was so prominent in his mind, Peter also recalled emotional neglect on the part of his father. In addition to Alex frequently choosing bar buddies or volunteering for more work rather than spend time with the Mrs., there was Valerie's birthday last year. She had been in the previous months talking—really wanting—to go to a new French restaurant called La Nuit. She figured/hoped Alex would take her there for her birthday. The morning of her birthday, Peter ducked out while his folks slept to get her a bouquet of flowers to go along with the decorative birthday card he bought. When he presented these two to his mother, she was overjoyed.

"Oh Peter, they're beautiful!" she gushed.

The son felt happiness as he watched his mother lip-synch read the card. "...you're the most wonderfully special mother..." She looked up at him with wide eyes. She appeared as if she was going to cry. She didn't. Instead she hugged her son.

"Oh, thank you, Petey!" She gave him a big kiss on his cheek.

"You're welcome, Mom."

Not soon after his response, did Peter's father walk in holding an envelope. To the young man, the presence of his father at that moment in the kitchen was akin to a raincloud appearing during a sunny picnic.

"Happy birthday, honey!" Alex said, offering her the envelope.