The Willing Seduction

If you like quick stories this may not be for you. This is about an incestuous relationship between a mother and her son.

For those that are overly sensitive to geographically specific language this is written using British English. If you have difficulties with this I recommend you skip the story.

So having tried to warn those sensitive types about the nature of this little tail, for those still wishing to read I hope you enjoy the story and any constructive feedback is always read and considered and if very relevant will be replied to. Your vote is also appreciated.

This story is about characters over the age of 18 and is completely fictional with no relationship to any real person, living or dead. Should one be perceived it is not intended and totally coincidental.

TTC

*

My name is Paul and I'm 20 years old. I'm on an engineering apprenticeship with a large aerospace company. I still live at home with my mother. Mum and Dad got divorced as soon as I reached 16, after my GCSE results. It seems that they only stayed together to give me some stability. But eventually that stability was no longer required and Dad left.

So with no siblings it left Mum, Diane, and me living together in the family home. Work was close enough to be able to remain living at home and so for the last four years I've attended school and worked my apprenticeship and lived with my mother.

*

I was completely lost in the film. It was Girl on a Motorcycle starring Marianne Faithful. It was the section of the film where she is riding and the film implied she was being stimulated by the vibrations of the bike. I was living the film and when the scene eventually changed I suddenly realised my breathing was ragged and I became very conscious that my mother was sat at the end of the room and out of the corner of my eye I could see her looking at me.

"Are you hard?" Mum suddenly asked.

I wasn't sure I heard her correctly, but I still became embarrassed and replied, "What?" without looking at her.

She repeated, "I asked if you are hard. You know, are you erect?"

As I had a total hard-on I couldn't really lie to her so very quietly I said, "Yes."

"Paul, can I ask a favour?

"I suppose so." I replied.

"Will you show me your erection?"

"What!" I exclaimed in response.

Mum flushed a little and said, "Well you're horny and I haven't seen a hard cock in years. To be honest with you, seeing you wrapped up in that film and guessing that you have an erection, I wondered if you could help me out. To be honest with you, I'm horny as well."

"But you're my mother. We shouldn't do that."

Mum's head dropped and she paused before responding, "No Paul, we shouldn't do it, but who's going to know? If neither of us tell anyone then what happens in our home between two consenting adults is our business."

"I know, but what happens after?" I asked.

"Well I guess we take it one day at a time. We could never do it again or we could do it again, or even perhaps take it further. Sitting here knowing that my son is sat next to me with a hard cock is making my pussy moist."

"Crikey Mum, what has got into you?"

Looking at me with a somewhat resigned expression on her face she replied, "I guess I'm horny."

We sat for a few moments in silence and I looked at Mum. She was sat half facing me with a short skirt on, revealing her tanned legs, down to her feet that were in navy 3 inch heeled shoes. Her blouse, tucked into her skirt, was partially transparent and allowed her bra to be viewed against her tanned torso. Mum's wavy blonde hair was fluffed up a little and she still had a bit of make-up on. She was only 5 feet tall in stockings and knew how to make the best of her body, knowing exactly how to extract second glances from males around her. I was amazed at Mum's admission because, despite being only 39 years old she was still very attractive and had been present in many of my night time fantasies involving a sticky end, but there is a big difference playing out a fantasy in my mind and the reality of displaying my erect cock to my mother. All of a sudden a wicked thought occurred to me and that was what would Mum give me if I let her see my cock?

Before I said anything I realised that this wasn't right and despite retaining the fantasy of sex with my mother I decided I would do what was right, and replied, "Mum It's not right. I know there are things that you want but I'm not sure I can give them to you."

Mum's head dropped and she seemed to think about my reply before eventually saying, "Okay Darling. I think you're probably right. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

I looked at her seeing her head bowed and said "Mum?"

She looked up at me and waited.

"It's okay, I wasn't embarrassed." I paused and thought I needed to stop her from feeling guilty about asking me and added, "I'm sorry you've had to put your own life on hold for me and I sort of understand you still have needs, but I'm not sure it's right for me to satisfy those needs."

Mum got up and came to me and leaned down and bringing her right hand to my left cheek she put her lips to my right cheek and squeezing slightly she gave me a long lingering kiss. As she pulled away she said, "Thank you Darling. You're probably right."

*

After that evening things went back to normal. Work and schooling for me and work for Mum. We would spend some evenings together and some with friends and colleagues but we both remained satisfying ourselves.

A couple of weeks later I had come home from a Friday evening out. The house was in darkness, so I assumed Mum was out. I was tired and went straight up to bed, but at the top of the stairs I noticed a dim light under Mum's bedroom door and was about to knock on the door when I heard, "Oh fuck!" come from inside. I stopped and decided to listen for a while.

It was mostly quiet, but now and again there was a moan or a groan, with the occasional "Oooh!" All of a sudden I heard, "Yes Paul, fuck me!" I wasn't sure if there was someone with Mum, or whether she's just fantasising about a Paul, or even worse; me. I didn't want to be found listening at her door so despite not really wanting to leave I went into my room.

I closed the door behind me and just stood leaning against it. All of a sudden another thought crossed my mind; there was someone with her. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks, and a completely unexpected feeling of jealousy came over me. The idea that Mum could be with another man had me seething. I was torn between waiting and running into her room. It took me a good five minutes to calm myself down and eventually talk myself out of doing anything too hasty. Eventually getting into bed I stayed awake for what seemed like hours trying to work out why I felt so jealous. With these thoughts milling around my head, I eventually fell asleep.

*

I didn't sleep well, tossing most of the night and eventually, although it was a Saturday morning, I got up at around 7:30am and went and got myself a coffee; sitting in the kitchen slowly drinking it.

About half an hour later I heard a door open upstairs and the adrenaline began to flow. I felt myself getting tense. There were soft footsteps descending the stairs and then suddenly Mum stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, and surprised asked, "Hi Paul. Are you alright? You're up early."

Finding it difficult to talk, I eventually managed, "I couldn't sleep."

"Do you feel ill?"

"No, I don't think so."

She turned to the kettle and filled it at the sink and asked, "Would you like another tea or coffee?"

I decided that I might as well stay awake now so said, "I'll have another coffee please."

While the kettle boiled Mum emptied the dishwasher and then made coffee for both of us and sat down at the table passing one of the coffees to me. It suddenly dawned on me that she had only made coffee for her and me. The jealousy was still there though and I needed to know.

"Mum?"

"Yes Dear." she said looking up at me.

"I must have had a weird dream last night, like I could hear people talking in the house."

Looking a little concerned she said, "You must have imagined it, there was only you and me here last night."

I watched as she spoke and there was no hint of her being uncomfortable or embarrassed. There was a feeling of relief as it seemed that there wasn't anyone with her. Then it became apparent that Mum's cry of 'Paul' must have been a call for me!

With the memory of the intense jealousy I experienced last night it was now replaced by a fundamental sense of relief, followed by a sense of yearning to keep Mum for myself. I didn't want anyone else to encroach on us and our lives, but I was still finding it a little difficult to accept the idea of displaying myself to her, despite her wanting me to.

For some reason I wanted to try to understand what Mum wanted and why, and why it was so difficult for me to accept, considering it was the taboo fantasy of most sons to want their mothers. Somehow I was finding it difficult to move the fantasy towards reality.

"Paul?" Mum asked.

I was lost in thought and didn't reply.

"Paul? Are you alright?" she asked a little more concerned.

"Sorry." I eventually replied. "I must have been deep in thought." I added.

"What were you thinking about?"

I hesitated, and then decided Mum needed something from me and I needed to find a way to try to help her. So I decided to be completely honest with her in the hope our very unusual issues could be resolved. As a result I replied, "I'm going to be honest with you Mum, so please let me say this before I change my mind."

"Okay." She responded with a nod and a little concern on her face.

I began, "The other week you asked to see my... ahem... penis and I didn't want to. Well I keep thinking back to that and realise that you need something desperately enough to ask, but I've found it difficult to get over the incest thing.

"The reason I was up early was because I didn't sleep last night, but the reason I couldn't sleep was not quite the one I've given you. When I came in I got to my bedroom door and then heard you moan. I stopped and listened for a moment and then heard you call my name and asked to be... ahem... fucked. It was at that point I went to my room and suddenly felt really jealous that someone else might be with you, so that's why I couldn't sleep.

"Beyond that I have fantasies about having sex with you, I guess the typical fantasies a son has for his mother, but I still can't get my head round doing it for real. But I want to help you and wish I didn't have those doubts and fears but can't ignore the feelings of jealousy I have at the thought of you being with someone else.

"So, being totally honest; I can think of nothing more erotic than to help you, but just don't know how. Does that make any sense?"

Sitting back in her chair Mum's eyes never left mine, and she simply said, "Wow!"

I felt my face flush, as it was possible I had embarrassed myself with my admission, but needed to know, "Mum, does that make sense?"

Sitting forward she replied, "Well firstly, it does make sense. Secondly that must have taken a lot of courage to admit that to me. Darling you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Honesty is something I will always need from you, despite what the consequences may be so please don't feel embarrassed."

"Thanks Mum." I responded as she paused.

Continuing she said, "It's only fair that I must be as honest with you as you have been with me, so what I asked of you was a result of my own physical needs. I still have those needs and I don't want anyone else in my life at the moment so unless I go out and have one night stands, you are the only other option I have.

"I suspect you have doubts because you may not feel you're up to the task of helping me, even though you still have the fantasies. If that is the case don't be concerned about that. It isn't about performance it's about intimacy. I feel that it will be easier for me to be intimate with you, someone I already love, than having a night of sex with a stranger.

"It sounds from what you've said there is a part of you that wants to help me, but another that feels the weight of society's disapproval of incest. The answer for me is that society doesn't need to know what we may or may not do in the privacy of our own home. So if it ends up that you show me your penis, and perhaps I rub my pussy at seeing it, for example, who will know?"

She stopped and waited with a loving smile on her face for me to respond.

"Nobody, I guess." I answered.

"And what if it is the start of something bigger and it ends up with your fantasies about me being fulfilled?"

I looked at Mum and suddenly understood what she was getting at, and replied, "If we didn't tell anyone nobody would know."

Smiling broadly she said, "Exactly." With that she reached across and touched my hand with hers across the table.

I grasped her hand and smiled, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders, but I was still a little unsure how things might get started. So I said, "I know you're right and I can't think of anything I'd like to do more than help you but I don't have the foggiest idea how to go about it."

Still smiling and pausing a moment she replied, "If you really do want to help me, I think I can organise things so that they develop naturally rather than feeling a bit sordid and dirty, if that's what you'd prefer?

"I think that would make it easier, and I wouldn't feel like a bit of a pervert."

"Paul, it's plainly obvious that the last thing you are is a pervert. Otherwise you wouldn't have said what you've said to me this morning."

I smiled, still a little self-consciously and said, "Thanks Mum."

"Let's not dwell on this now, but leave it with me and I'm sure I can think of things to make this easy on both of us." Pausing, and still smiling a mother's loving smile she added, "And Paul, thank you for being so honest and mature. I love you Darling."

"I love you too Mum."

Squeezing my hand she picked up her coffee and took a drink. I did the same and drank the rest of my coffee and got up.

"Would you like another coffee?" I asked.

"No thanks Dear. I know what we can do as we're both up and no likelihood of either of us going back to bed, why don't you come shopping with me and get it done and out of the way?"

"Okay, I'll get showered and dressed." I replied and headed out the door.

About 40 minutes later we were both dressed and back in the kitchen and we headed to the supermarket.

The rest of the trip involved our normal day to day conversations as we continued a normal, albeit early, weekly occurrence. As was the norm Mum got all the food and I went and looked at some console games, music and films. We met back up and then with a full trolley we both headed for the checkout.

All the groceries had gone through and Mum lifted a lingerie set from the small basket by the handle. It consisted of bra panties and suspender belt, there was also a pair of sheer black stockings. I thought this a little unusual, but didn't really think much more of it.

The journey home was normal and eventually we had locked the car with all the shopping now on the kitchen table. A few minutes later all the shopping was put away and the only items left on the table were the stockings and lingerie.

"Do you think those will suit me Paul?" Mum asked directing my eyes to the clothing with her own glance.

I felt the heat of embarrassment around my face and neck, but decided I needed to make a reasonable assessment. Looking at the items, the bra cups were sheer and almost see-through, with the same for the panties, except the gusset. I then looked at Mum who was stood where I could see her from head to toe and with a little mental imagery I formed the picture of Mum wearing the lingerie and stockings in my head.

The mental picture was one of a mature but still youthful featured woman with a petite but fit body, a beautiful face framed by blonde wavy hair. Her body clad in a black bra, with nipples visible, and panties, with a well-trimmed triangle of pubic hair visible through the material, and stocking tops clasped by the suspender belt high up on her thighs and a typical pair of heeled shoes. The picture in my mind was arousing, but I was a little surprised at Mum's overt means of getting me to think about her dressed so provocatively.

Feeling quite embarrassed I looked at Mum, and finally replied, "I think you'll look very ... ... ... sexy in them."

Grinning broadly Mum said, "Yes, I think I will."

With that she picked up the items and headed upstairs.

I suddenly had a dreaded feeling that she was going to model them for me and I wasn't sure how I would handle that, but I decided to prepare myself, but it wasn't actually necessary. Normality returned over the next couple of hours and no sight of a catwalk show from Mum so I eventually forgot about it. The rest of the day went fairly normally with lunch, the normal weekend chores and dinner. Eventually we both sat down and watched some television.

Part way through the evening Mum left and went upstairs. She changed out of her jeans and jumper and came back in wearing a short white denim skirt and a t-shirt.

I did a sort of double-take as this was a little unusual, but decided not to make a fuss.

"Would you like a drink?" Mum asked.

"Can I have a lager please?"

"Sure." she replied as she headed into the kitchen.

"Glass or bottle?" came her call from the kitchen.

"Glass please." I called back.

A couple of minutes later she came back in. In her left hand was a glass of wine, in her right hand was a bottle of lager and an empty glass. She set the wine down next to her end of the sofa and came down to me. She bent down and put the glass on the small table next to the sofa. Her breasts were swinging free beneath her t-shirt, making it obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. She pulled a bottle opener from the back pocket of her short white denim skirt and as she opened the bottle and poured the contents into the glass I was transfixed by the movement of her breasts and the points of her nipples visible through the fairly thin t-shirt material.

Suddenly pennies seemed to drop in my head and I realised I was being seduced. I was fascinated at Mum's imagination, with the lingerie and now the braless t-shirt and short skirt. It suddenly occurred to me; was she wearing any panties? I guess I would find out in due course.

Suddenly the bottle top seemed to flick off the table and land on the floor behind Mum. She immediately turned around and bending at the waist picked it up. I got a great view of her legs, but due to the relative tightness of the skirt I didn't see if she was wearing panties. I also laughed to myself that I might have to get used to more of this over the next days, weeks and possibly months.

Going back to her seat at the other end of the sofa, Mum sat back down and then stretched her legs out towards me and settled back down watching TV.

We passed the occasional comment to each other, as we would normally do and as the evening went on we agreed what we would like to watch. Eventually a film was agreed upon and after repeating her show with another bottle of lager we settled down.

After about 10 minutes Mum raised her left leg which lifted her skirt from her legs. I glanced across and had a clear sight of a pair of white panties. Although no panties would have been blatantly provocative, there was something quite erotic with the sight of plain white panties.

Every now and again I glanced to my right and kept taking a peek up her skirt, it was clear that Mum avoided any eye contact when I did. Once or twice there was a hint of a smile but she didn't mention her attire or my glances throughout the evening.