Mother May I?

The double helix intertwining of a family's fixations spirals out of control

The Risqué Writer's Rule

Some may decry the confections,
That are my tales for heads and hearts;
Yet despite their imperfections,
They also affect the lower parts;
Remember it's just erotica,
Never meant to be fine arts!

8==3~ [Have you read my thread?]

(Narrated with a slight Southern accent, think Reeba)

Listen, I know that everyone has their own turn-ons. Everybody is kinky in their own way; as individual as is their own DNA, and remember that's a double-helix, in other words, twice as twisted. So don't blame me, for what I find makes me go all damp in my panties, that's just the way I am.

How did I get that way? I guess it was a long time coming, you should pardon the pun. I explored with my brother, when we were kids. Everybody plays 'doctor' when they're children, right? Didn't you? Be honest! It's natural to be curious about sex, even at an early age. As I grew older, I still like to examine boys. The male body had an endless fascination for me.

When I got married, I had one to play with, as much as I wanted to. Until some other gal took to playing with it too. I never did like sharing. I hadn't worn it out after twenty years, but its novelty had worn off. So I let her have it, him I mean. We divorced. It was quite civilized, I got everything and he got her. I hope they are both happy, not!

But then I looked around for another one to play with. I liked the younger models. The older hairier and hoarier pricks were not as appetizing to me as the newer doodles. With the finer fuzz and smoother skin, they are (to my personal preference) more aesthetic. They also last longer in a tumescent condition. So, I went back to playing doctor; or rather I got to 'nurse' on some fresh new meat. Sweet!

It's not that I'm a girl that can't say no, just that I don't think that gets much fun done. But I do have morals, I have standards, I know right from wrong. But naughty is more fun, don't you think? Come on, be honest! The riskier, the friskier -- right. Forbidden fruit is sweeter, tangier, tastier. I guess that's why I'm a tart. My flavor, if you took a lick, is delicious; but sharp and potent, addictive even.

It's hard to be good, when it's so good to be bad. When he's good and hard, it's easy to be naughty. When I'm wet and horny, hot and ready, I just can't help myself. I tried to be strong, I wanted to be good, I knew better, honest. He was over eighteen, just. He was willing; in fact he seduced me, easily. I resisted, I struggled to do the proper thing, I was reluctant. But everybody has their turn-ons. Like DNA; for me it was Dana, my son -- my own DNA.

Now some of you will want him to make me pregnant, and some will want him to fuck me in the ass. Others want a three way, with a double penetration - or a little lesbian action. Then you have your foot-fetish fiends, and your friends of animals, and the golden shower gang, and the gang-bang bunch, and . . . well, you get the idea. Everybody has their way of getting bent, kinky cocks and coy cunts; when it cums to humping, there's a hundred different ways we humans have of getting off.

But this story is not for anybody else, or about what YOU want. It's what happened between Dana and myself. We did what we did, and that's it. Sorry if you don't get an orgasm reading about us. There is plenty of stuff on the Internet to satisfy every kind of kink. I don't judge, let she who is without sin cast the first ball to get her rocks off. Something like that. Anyway, this is how it happened.

I don't need to tell you that my boy, Dana, likes to look at girls, women, anything in skirts half-way pretty. I am talking naked of course, the female form; every private part we gals got. So between the two of us, we were sneaking peaks at each other ever we got the chance, trying to see what the other looked like nude. Especially since I gave the old man the boot. I didn't mind, but I was not going to give away a free show to my kid. I have some respect for my privacy . . . a little anyway.

On the other hand he was ever trying to display his physique. But I had to keep up the pretense I wasn't interested. You may ask why. I don't know, just seemed seemly. Like back in the Fifties, ladies didn't let bra straps show. So grandma told me, go figure! This peeking got to be a game. I was ahead, but not by much. Dana would walk out of the shower to his bedroom, without a stitch on, "OH! Sorry mom, I didn't think you were home!" Or walk in on me taking a bath, "OH! Sorry mom, I didn't know, I just wanted a clean towel."

I must say he was a beautiful hunk of manhood. I think he found me attractive too. Alright, I know it! We have good DNA, that way. Then there came the day when we stripped together in the laundry room. That was what really started the affair, the balling rolling if you will. But still, it took some time for the momentum to build. Then it was all downhill, going down, getting down, down and dirty -- you get the idea.

Now the laundry room is off the garage and leads to the kitchen, which has the back stairs to the bedrooms. I had just waxed the kitchen floor, so that was part of the circumstances. We were out grocery shopping together, Dana's helpful that way. Just as we got to the car, it came pouring down buckets. We got drenched trying to get the food in the SUV. The seats would dry, nothing to be done about that. But I was damned if my kitchen floor wax-job was going to be messed up.

When we got into the laundry room, I said to Dana, "Take off your wet clothes, and put them in the washer right now. Don't you go dripping on my kitchen floor, I just waxed it." I started to do likewise. Dana took me literally, and took everything off. Including his jockeys. Well, I figured -- what the fuck, he's seen me enough anyways, right? I was down to my bra and panties by then, so I shucked them too.

Trouble was, there was only one small clean towel in the room, to dry the both of us. But Dana reached it first, and said, "Let me dry you mom." I knew what that meant. He was going to be up close and personal; with his hands on my person, seeing a close-up of my body. And no doubt, he was going to expect the same service of me. It was his ideal touchy-feely situation. This evened the score on points, for 'peek-a-boo I see nudie you!'.

I don't have to tell you he had a royal woodie. Well, I was damp too, but not with rainwater 'tween my legs. He was so very thorough! Especially on my tits and tush, and he did cop a feel with a few fingers on my bush. Small towel, "Whoops! Sorry mom!" Then, I made sure that his staff was dry, except it kept leaking at the tip. His buns were another spot I made extra sure of. Finally, we were face to face, mano a mom-o; if you know what I mean, I think you do.

I dropped the towel, and any pretense I did know this was an erotic moment, between the two of us. One that was momentous, because it was the first time we were honest about our feelings, though we didn't say a word. Dana reached out and hugged me to him, then Frenched kiss me. I almost swooned, I swear! But next thing he lost his nerve, thank heavens -- or not, he turned and went to his room. I followed up the stairs, slowly, and wondering what was next. Because this thing was not ended. Not by a long shot, and we both knew it!

When he had held me, I could feel the light hair of his chest on my pointy nipples. I felt his hard-on press against my mons. His hands went around and clutched my bottom. His lips were firm; his tongue was knowing and confident. I liked his masculine smell. He was strong and yet caring; sensitive, yet dominate. I wanted him, he was lusting for me. We were male and female, like Adam and Eve; primal, primitive and wanting to monkey around. My mothering instincts were smothered by my mating urges. If he had not backed down, I would have backed up and let him take me.

I vowed that we must never come so close to the danger zone again. I have trouble keeping my promises to myself, when it comes to pleasurable activities. Temptation is something I tend to give into. I don't have a lot of control when it has to do with sex. I like it too much. Don't you? Be honest! Dana is the same way. Must be the DNA.

The next week, I did my dangdest to regain my lead in our game of 'one-oops-man-ship'. I walked in on him while he was showering, to hand him the soap. I had to make sure to steal the bar of Irish Spring, beforehand. At least I didn't have to pick the lock, though I was prepared. I slid back the door to the stall, and gave him the once over as I forked over the bar. His bare buns were to me when I stuck my head in; they were a sight for savin'. Tight and smooth, glistening twin cheeks that made my mouth water, and other places as well, don't cha know. Then he turned, and I smiled at his look of surprise.

"If you want to lather that lance, you'll need this!" I said. He took the soap, and before I had a chance to withdraw, he put it right to his hairy middle. I hesitated, and as the steamy atmosphere of the shower heated my face, I felt myself flush. But it wasn't the temperature of the water that was doing it. It was the lovely lever that rose in his hands. I stood still, with my hair catching the odd spray, as Dana washed his dick. He understood that I wanted him to display his manhood. He was more than willing to show off. When he started to jerk off, I decided that I ought to retreat, though that would have been a treat alright.

"Have some good clean fun!" I said as I close the stall door.

"Not with my dirty thoughts!" he retorted as I left the bathroom.

I guess with pulling those kinds of shenanigans, I deserved my comeuppance that he provided, three days later. "Mom!!" he shouted from his bedroom, "I gotta go to the Doc!"

I hurried from the kitchen. He's too old now, to be covered on my insurance from work. Neither does he get any with either of his part-time jobs. So doctor bills are not something I want to have to pay, unless needed. "Heaven's mercy, Dana, what's the trouble?" The door was closed, I knocked perfunctorily and entered.

"It's embarrassing, mom." He was sitting on the edge of his bed. As I came in, he pulled the covers over his legs. I could see that his pants and shorts were around his ankles.

"Land-sakes! Dana, I'm your mother. What is the problem?"

"It's my penis, it's green."

"It can't be gangrene that takes a long time to happen without proper circulation in the part of the body affected. I saw your dick the other day, and it looked fine to me."

"Not gangrene, green. It turned green overnight!"

"Let me see." I pulled the blanket off to look at his privates. Sure 'nuf, he had green genitals. I knelt down for a closer examination. I reached for his prick and lifted the limp lump up. It was not colored much on the underside. The testicles looked okay. Then I noticed his underwear also had a green tint at the crotch. A small pill of some sort was stuck to it. It was the same size as the multi-hued candy on his night stand, I observed.

I picked out the pill from the pants. "Dana, did you have those sweets, when you went to bed last night? Did you drop one, and not find it? Was it a green one, my darlin' dummy?"

"Oh . . . is that where it went?" He sounded honest, but it was an awfully slick trick, if he was trying to put one over on me. I couldn't decide.

"Dana, did you really think something was wrong, or were you just playing the 'gotcha game'?"

"No, mom, I was convinced I maybe had masturbated too much, and caused damage."

I chuckled, but in order not to hurt his feelings, I quickly added, "I never heard of a guy's dick falling off, from jackin'-off." Then, because I was right there, "How much do you do it, Darlin'?" I gave it a little tug, and it started to grow.

"I did it a lot more in the last several days, since we . . . you know - in the laundry room. And when you gave me the soap, it made me even hornier thinking about . . ."

"About me?" I started to move my hand, stroking the silky shaft.

"About us, imagining that . ."

I cut off his words, so that he didn't speak about what I suspected was an act of incest. Not that I wasn't crossing some sort of line, right then and there! "I know, Baby, but we are mother and son, and some things are not allowed. I think we ought to cool our peek-a-boo games. Things are getting out of hand. I cupped his balls with the palm of my free hand, and now the hard-on was at full mast. A clear drop twinkled at the top.

"Don't stop." he whispered.

"You don't want to stop our little games, Dana?" I teased with my sultry tone. I ran my thumb over the tip, swirling the drip around, and down the ridge a bit.

"Don't stop what you're doing, please mom!" He squeaked in his excitement.

I wasn't thinking about much but the beautiful instrument in my hands. It had been quite awhile since I had one to make happy. I wasn't thinking it was my son's, but just that the poor cute piddler was in need of a release. I massaged the eggs in his hairy sacks, and dripped some drool to slick up the pole. I knew the visual was adding to the turn-on for Dana, to view his mom giving him a hand job. I used a light touch as I gave a slight torque to my up-&-down on his cock. I was tempted to use my lips. I don't do well with temptation, as I said earlier. I opened wide, and put the whole head in my hot mouth.

It only took six sucks to have him cum, my squeezing fingers on his balls timed to his spasms. I used the jism to finish, with my hand on his stalk. I looked up at his contorted panting face, and had to grin. "There, now I've cured your green cock and blue balls, both at the same time! Doctor Mom, to the rescue!"

"God, mom that was fantastic. I swear, it wasn't a trick to get you to fondle my dick. But I got to say, you do know how to sent a guy's rocket through the roof!"

"I had plenty of practice in my day, son! Now you go and get cleaned up. And change them green undies! Now that you're feeling better, I have some chores you can take care of. Do all the wastepaper baskets. You can start with the one beside your bed, filled with all those tissues!"

I guess Dana got a 'cum-up-pants' too! Something like that.

A couple days after that episode, it was Sunday. I always take a nap on the Sabbath afternoon, just like momma used to make us kids do, after church and dinner. 'Septin I don't go to services much, anymore. But I do like my Sunday afternoon snooze. Just as I'm stretching out, Dana knocks on my door. "Mom, can I come in and talk for a moment, with you? I got a question that's been bothering me."

"Sure, come in." I was in my house-robe, so though I was on top of the spread, I was decent. No undies though, so I made sure all the snaps were together. "What's on your mind, Babe? Got a problem?"

"Not exactly. I was wondering about something you said the other day. You said that maybe we ought not to play games anymore. Peek-a-boo, or gotcha; whatever you want to call it. But you did it to me in the shower, and then a few days later you sucked me off. And you can't tell me you didn't like our kiss in the laundry room, while we were naked!"

"That's all the truth, Darlin'. Perhaps I'm not as good at obeying the rules, as knowing what they are. But that don't mean they don't exist. I hope that you can behave better than your momma, 'cause I am not the best of examples."

"Well, I was thinking, maybe instead of games, we could be honest."

I sensed a snare, but fell for the bait anyway. "Honesty's a good thing . ."

"Well, mom, then in all honesty; I'd like to return the favor you did the other day, for me. I don't want to have to play games, to see you naked. I know you like looking at me, so you don't have to be coy or shy. And I'd like to give you head, and make you cum. I bet you'd sleep right fine after that. What do you say? May I mom? Go down on you?"

I burst out laughing I was so taken by surprise. "Jeez! Dana! What makes you think I'm going to let you do that outlandish thing to your momma? I know I shouldn't have let the fox get in the hen house when I was naughty, but that doesn't mean the rooster messes with the vixen! He'll get his head bit off that way. She is just as dangerous. You get my drift?"

"She's a fox, and likes to eat peckers."

I howled!

"Mom, if fair is fair, I get to eat you. Think of me as the wolf, and you are the meek lamb I am going to make a meal of." With that, he reached out with both hands, took the hem of my robe on each side of the front, and pulled wide. The effect was that all the snaps popped open, and I was exposed from thighs to throat; pussy, navel and cleavage!

I was so shocked and stunned, I didn't move. I was speechless. Worse, I was turned on. I wasn't worried about rape; he said he wanted to eat me. He hadn't taken his pants off, nor his tee shirt. I watched in a half hypnotic state as he spread my legs, and his mouth made a beeline to my honey-pot. He began kissing my inner thighs before he landed at my labia, and he skipped up to my clit to toggle his tongue on that delicate dainty.

My nipples were instantly hardened. My sauce was flowing, before his oral pursuits returned to the well of my womanhood. I could detect the aroma of my juices steaming from between my legs, as his playtime in my center continued. I was in heaven; I have a real craving for cunnilingus. I should have been slapping him, instead of letting him slurp at my most personal parts.

But he had caught me by surprise, and I was vulnerable to his attack. Because I had secretly wanted it, if I was honest with myself. So the shivers my son sent up through my torso, and the shakes that went down my legs, and the shudders my whole body had - when Dana hit just the right spot; were as much the result of my carnal desires, as my boy's bad behavior. But he was soo goood at it! He could have had me. Save that I was so exhausted, from the multiple orgasms that racked me time and again. It left me no energy to drag him on top, and no breath left to tell him to fuck me. He was right. I slept real fine after he got through munching on his momma. Whew!

I had to put my foot down, after that; wonderful and pleasurable as his oral assault had been. I made it clear that very evening, when we were cleaning up after dinner. All further activity, of an intimate nature between us, had to be with my express permission -- beforehand. I had to say it was specifically okay, ahead of any attempt to fool around; fiddle with my fanny, cop a feel of my boobs, even get a gander at my gams. I know that took the fun out of our spontaneous spotting of stiffies and spiffies, the peek-a-boob and woodie-ya-know games.

But otherwise, we might find ourselves bed-mates, instead of just playmates. Mother's and son's ought not to mate. At least not without some kind of birth control. That was not an issue with me, as I had had my tubes tied. Right before I found out that hubby was seeing that hussy. I told her she could have his sorry ass, but I was getting his assets, along with his saving and the house. But just because I was protected from pregnancy didn't mean that I was automatically going to have a roll in the hay with Dana. Just 'cause we gave into temptation a couple of times, didn't mean we were going to fool around every time we were tempted to. Kissing doesn't mean an invitation to coitus, and co-habitation don't mean opportunities to copulate.

So now we had a new game in the home. "Mother may I", was a standard phrase, even if he wanted to kiss me. Of course I let him kiss me. But if he tried to French me I slapped him, but not hard. And if he tried to cop a feel, I smacked him, on his butt. He sort of liked that. And when we happened to see some extra skin, I made the punishment fit the crime. An eyeful for an eyeful; he took his punishment like a man. Isn't that just like a man?! So well, I guess things were more back to the way they had been. Then . . .