“Oedipus was blinded because the light
of truth was too much to bare” – B. Traven
“[A] Mother/son [relationship] is the one relationship-type
where both parties get exactly what they need from the other
party and the relationship, and the power status
between the parties is the most equitable.”
– Dr. J. Boswell,
Institute of Advanced
“Live it up like a motherfucker.”
– Ted Nugent
“Son: Mom, I think I have an Oedipus Complex.
Mother: That’s OK – as long as you love your mother”
– Book of Jewish Mother Jokes
“Your mother should kno-owww, … your mother should know”
– Magical Mystery Tour,
The Beatles 1967
She was leaning over the sink looking intently into the mirror
as she carefully applied her mascara. She was not finished dressing
yet. She wore a silky white half slip through which he could make out
the faint outline of her girdle. On top wore a cream-colored brassiere
with a floral pattern. The underwire cups lifted her heavy breasts high
and barely contained the overflow of abundant flesh at the top of her
bra. He studied his mother’s body as he had done many times in the
past. It was plump, almost verging on fat, with soft billowing curves,
large breasts, and a big fleshy butt.
His mother’s body never failed to excite him, and he felt him-
self growing hard. Since he was a child he seized every opportunity to
secretly observe his Mom’s body which she always exposed with such
casualness. In his teens he would relieve his sexual tension in secret
shame after watching his mother. Later in life, of course, he discover-
ed that her display of nudity to him was not that accidental but some-
thing extremely exciting to both of them. As an adult when they finally
became sexually active, it was like a dam had burst with a release of
They both wondered whether this sexual tension always existed
between a mother and son that rarely got realized. Maybe all sexual
relationships were proxy incestual relationships that vainly tried to
capture the magic and passion of the original unconsummated taboo.
In his own case, his previous sexual relations paled in com-
parison with the burning intensity of his new relationship with his
Mom. Nothing compared to fucking his own mother!
After the first time they had consummated their relationship,
they knew they there was no going back. They both knew that the outside
world could never accept their relationship even in a so-called age of
sexual freedom – so they had to be careful.
He moved in with his mother, (“To save on expenses”), where he
had his own bedroom for outside appearances, but he actually moved
into his mother’s bedroom where they were safe from the judgmental view
of the outside world. Occasionally they would take vacations, away from
those who knew them, where they could openly display affection as
lovers by pretending to be husband and wife. The age difference between
them, (22 and 38), was small enough that Mom only got an occasional
wink for having landed such a young stud.
Instead of their passion diminishing over time, it grew until
it seemed to displace the rest of their lives. They reveled in each
other’s bodies, never tiring of seeking new kinks to release the enor-
mous sexual tension they discovered between them. Of course the biggest
kink at all that ignited their passion was their relationship itself –
the naughtiness of the taboo of the sexual union of a mother and son!
** ** **
“I’ve got to ready for work.” she said without turning around.
She startled him out of his reverie. She was looking at him in the mir-
ror while still applying mascara.
He walked up behind his mother, grasping her waist. The touch
of her warmth was electric. He looked at their reflection in the mir-
ror. He thought they already looked like lovers with the look that re-
vealed easy familiarity of each others body. He hoped that it was not
as obvious to others as it appeared to him.
“I’m going to be late.” she said with a touch of annoyance.
He ignored her and started kissing the back of her neck. His
hands climbed the front of her until the found the cool silkiness of
her brassiere. He cupped his mother’s breasts through the brassiere,
feeling their fullness.
“No. I told you – I’m going to be late for work. Let’s wait
until I get home.” Her voice was cracking now. She tried to squirm away
but he held her firmly. His right hand entered the front of her bras-
siere. He played with her right nipple, circling it with his index
finger until it stiffened.
“No.” she protested, but it came out weak and half-hearted.
Her body started to relax. He lifted his mother’s breast until it hung
obscenely out of the brassiere cup. He pulled at her nipple, gently at
first but then harder.
“Oohh.” she moaned. Her mouth was open and slack now.
“Let’s go in the bedroom.” she said trying to contain the ex-
citement in her voice.
“No. Here.” he said as he unzipped himself.
“In front of the bathroom sink? That’s a new one.”
He yanked down his mother’s half-slip to the floor. She stepped
out of it, still facing the bathroom sink. He grabbed the waistband of
her girdle and pulled down roughly. It caught on the swell of her ass,
and he pulled harder without much luck.
“Ouch. Wait a minute.” She bend forward more, which pushing out
her big ass further. She grabbed the girdle at the side of her hips and
slid the girdle down in one smooth motion. The girdle fell uselessly to
the floor. She stepped out of it, threw it to one side, and resumed her
position in front of the sink.
He studied the fleshy abundance of his mother’s buttocks. It
was softly padded white outlined with pink lines from her girdle. He
ran his palm lightly over its expansive curves.
“I’m already late for work so let’s hurry, OK.”
He found himself flushed with anger. He lifted the hand that
was caressing her ass and slammed it down hard on his mother’s bare
“I’m not boring you, Mom, am I?” He slapped her harder than
he’d intended. Her bottom was still quivering from his blow; and he
could see the pink outline of his palm-print on her right buttock. In
the mirror he could see tears well up in her eyes. She bit her lower
lip but remained silent.
He felt guilty he had slapped her so hard. He kissed the back
of her neck lightly. He reached around and felt at her crotch. She was
sopping wet! Lately, the lovemaking had graduated to light-grade S&M
where they explored together the often thin border between pleasure
and pain. He imagined they were much freer with sexual experiment than
other couples because they had already jumped an enormous hurdle in
becoming lovers in the first place.
He played with her clitoris and she moaned and spread her legs
to permit him better access. As he played with his mother’s pussy the
head of his cock brushed against the warmth of her buttocks, sending
electric shocks through his body. With his hand he glided himself to-
ward the crack of his Mom’s bottom, lightly brushing his cock along
the length. He looked at his mother in the mirror. Her eyes were closed
and her mouth was slack. He knew she was close. She looked partic-
ularly whorish with her big bare butt and her teat hanging out of the
front of her bra.
He pushed his cock into the crack of his mother’s butt, seeking
the warmth within while he continued fingering her clit.
“Not there, honey. I’m still sore from the last time. Please.”
She opened her eyes and looked at her son dreamily in the mirror.
“It’s OK, Mom.” He tried hard to sound reassuring. He grabbed
a tube of shampoo from the side of the sink and squeezed a wad of it
into his hand. She jumped from the sudden coolness as he worked the
shampoo into her crack. She drew a sharp intake of breath as he buried
his index finger into her anus up to the first knuckle. By the time he
introduced a second finger into her ass she was bucking against his
hand with excitement.
“You’re like a bitch in heat, Mom.” he grunted as he removed
his fingers from his mother’s butt, and guided the purple head of his
cock to her anus. He met surprisingly little resistance as he started
pushing further into his mother’s butt.
“Say it, Mom.” He groped at her exposed breast, cupping it.
“Say it.” he insisted. He pinched cruelly at her nipple while
he pushed at her anal sphincter.
“Fuck … me. Fuck my ass.” his mother said breathlessly. It
was a little game they played.
He could see his mother wince in pain as he pushed past her
sphincter and slid deep into her rectum. She spread her legs further to
relieve some of the pressure. He waited until she could adjust to his
intrusion. His cock was throbbing in the warmth of his Mom’s tight ass.It felt like a velvet glove was grabbing his cock. He knew he wasn’t
going to last much longer.
He started thrusting slightly and heard his mom moan in plea-
sure … and pain.
She pushed back against him, which encouraging him to go
He trusted further in longer strokes. He heard himself
“Mom … you bitch” he said through clenched teeth. He was
seriously fucking his Mom’s ass now in long hard strokes. His mother
bucked back against him.
“Ohhh …” They were moaning loudly in unison now. He roughly
grabbed a buttock in each hand and pinched hard. He was really riding
his mother’s ass – fucking her bare butt in punishing thrusts.
“Oh! Oh! you mother-fucker. Oh.” His mother was coming now.
Screaming embarrassingly loud.
“Ahhh … ” his mother’s loud orgasm was enough to push him
over the edge. He spasmed load after load of semen into his mother’s
They sunk to the bathroom floor together. He held his mother
close, feeling her heartbeat. After what seemed hours, but was probably
only minutes, they kissed tenderly.
“I love you, Mom.” he whispered.
“I love you too, Sweetie.”
They hugged each other tightly. It always amazed him that
after all the sex play between them they still felt this overwhelming
rush of genuine love for each other. It was as if their relationship
instead of being a perversion of family relationships was simply the
most natural expression of the love between a mother and son.
She got up and noticed that her breast was still hanging out
of bra. She tucked it back in and adjusted her bra. She caught him
looking up at her. She smiled at him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m de-
finitely late for work now.”
Amazingly enough, he did feel a stirring in his loins as he
laid there watching his mother bare-ass except for a brassiere. But he
doubted he had enough energy left to get off the floor.
After a small struggle she pulled the girdle back on followed
by the half-slip. She looked down at her son still laying on the floor
“What am I going to tell them at work for the reason I’m late?”
she said in mock-seriousness.
“Just tell them you were fucking your son’s brains out.” he
“That excuse isn’t going to work because you don’t have any
brains to fuck out” she laughed, and winked at him.
“Oh, Mom . . .” he said dreamily…
this is imagination about the readers mom
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