[Author’s note: all characters over the age of 18]
Lindsey gasped as she walked into the living room of her house to see her son Grant naked, pulling on his (sizable) cock, in her living room in the middle of the afternoon. Lindsey had come home early that day after having a cancellation at the office and had assumed Grant had gone out or taken a nap when she called out and not received an answer while walking in her front door moments ago.
After a long moment where he didn’t react to her presence, Lindsey realized her son’s eyes were closed and he had air pods in, blissfully cut off from the world as he rubbed one out in front of his own mother.
Grant’s cock quickly drew her attention: it was bigger. Bigger than her ex-husband’s. Bigger than most of her college boyfriends and lovers. Lindsey couldn’t help imagining out the warm piece of flesh would feel violating her most intimate places. Part of her wanted to stride up to him that very moment, get on her knees, and swallow the whole thing in her mouth before he had a chance to react.
She thought better of it though and quietly retreated back out of the house. This time, she made a show of slamming the door both opening and closing, hearing Grant’s startled reaction in the distance and smirking to herself.
“Hey, I’m home!” she shouted, much louder this time, “Grant, honey, are you home?”
“Uh, yeah Mom,” he yelled back, “I’m just, uh, in my room changing real quick. Just finished, uh, working out.”
Oh I bet you did she thought, “Come say hi.”
“Oh, I’m not decent,” he replied, “Give me a minute.”
Lindsey chuckled to herself. Part of her wanted to keep teasing her son, but he seemed embarrassed enough as it was.
Of course, how much more embarrassed would he be if he knew his own mother had seen him stroking his cock just minutes before? Lindsey couldn’t stop thinking about it as she made her way to her own room to change. She had to pass Grant’s room to get to hers, and was a little disappointed to see the door shut tight as she walked by. By now Grant’s equipment was probably secured away behind a tight pair of boxer briefs and shorts. Unless…no, he wouldn’t be so bold…unless he had run to his room, locked his door, and just kept stroking. Was his fist furiously flying up and down his length even as she made her way to her own room. She went to shut her own door, then thought better of it, leaving it slightly ajar.
She knew shouldn’t encourage such behavior–a boy can’t just masturbate whenever he wanted all day, after all–and teasing her own child sexually was beyond the pale for any mother, but the thought that Grant’s fist could be covered with his own hot cum at the very moment she was shrugging off her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse just got her so excited.
It wasn’t like Lindsey was starved for sex. She had been no virgin when she married her husband and she kept a steady stream of affairs both before and after her marriage dissolved. Her ex had even known and encouraged several of the women she brought home, something that turned out to be a mistake when he ran off with a particularly nubile coworker she had brought them both to play with after a very festive holiday party.
No, on the contrary, Lindsey was so oversexed it was almost cartoonish. It was all self-confidence too: she had no work done and her age was definitely showing, but she exercised and took care of herself, her big ass and thighs drawing in men and women both.
Her own son though. She’d obviously never considered Grant as a possible lover. It was disgusting, wasn’t it? Incest. Of course she knew the word. In a way, the kink was inescapable. She remembered being barely eighteen and calling boys only a few years older than her “Daddy.” She laughed about it. These men had basically been children themselves, little older than Grant was now.
Grant. Her thoughts kept going back to Grant. Which was bad, as she was now in her stockings and panties, dropping her bra on her bed, thinking about her son. Rubbing her tits, thinking about her little boy sucking at them, only now he was a man. A man with a beautiful cock.
It was getting to be too much. She pushed aside the crotch of her panties and fell back on her bed, rubbing her clit, sighing as the thought of Grant’s naked body filled her mind and made her so very wet.
Oh this is so bad she thought.
“Grant, baby,” she moaned as she felt her climax quickly coming on, “Fuck me baby, fuuuucck meee.”
Lindsey shuttered as she came to the thought of her own son. On her back, trying to catch her breath, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She realized she had never shut her bedroom door, giving anyone a clear view of her naked in just her stockings, long fingers dancing between her pussy lips.
Had it just been an illusion? Something she imagined? Had Grant heard his name and caught her pleasuring herself to the thought of him, her own son?
I guess that makes us even, she thought, chuckling at her poor baby’s further embarrassment. Grant had always been very understanding about his mother’s carnal nature. Not that she had even rubbed in it his face, obviously. He definitely didn’t know about the group sex she’d had with his father and others, and definitely nothing about her fairly regular bisexual moments, but there was no denying his mother was clearly a very sexual woman. Well-dressed, fit, with a string of boyfriends, and–with their rooms so close–he must have heard things over the years.
Could that be a possibility? Was Grant not only masturbating in her house, but to the thought of his own mother? Again, the very thought should have been disgusting, but somehow she found it enticing. As much as she’d pushed the envelope in so many other ways–Lindsey balked at the thought of her own mother knowing a fraction of the carnal activities she’d gotten up to, especially in her youth–but what about this taboo? Incest. A common fantasy and one of the most consequential to break. She could go to jail. Her friends and family would break contact with her. Society would forever remember her as something vile: a woman who gave all of herself to her own flesh and blood. Her own son.
Just the thought of it was making her so hot that she was already wet and ready to masturbate again.
Lindsey quickly stripped off and headed for the shower. Usually she’d wrap a towel around herself, but instead she just glanced out her bedroom door and confidently strode down the hall to the bathroom she shared with her son.
Just as she thought she’d made it–a little disappointed to be showing off with no one to see–the door to Grant’s room swung open. He was dressed now, t-shirt and jeans, as he caught his nude mother standing right outside the bathroom door.
“Hi, baby,” Lindsey said. She made the salutation breathier than usual, her eyes half-lidded, really laying it on thick. All the things she would be doing to someone she was trying to fuck. She was laying it on so thick that she almost made herself laugh. If this were any normal man, it would have been utterly ridiculous, playacting before the inevitable sex.