My son my lover and breaking free
My son my lover is an interesting story about how a mother was seduced into incest. As always, I’ve done my best to verify the authenticity and in this situation I’m only 90% certain that it’s real. The author and I spoke on the phone, but absent was the “click” that let me know that the story was genuine and the person was being 100% honest with me. My personal opinion is that the events are real, but there’s probably some artistic embellishments. Which, I have no problem with, especially because it made for an awesome read.
My Son My Lover: by Katia
I stood at the airport gate, my heart racing with excitement and anxiety as I waited for my son, Andreas, to arrive home from his time in the army. He had been away for two years, and I couldn’t wait to see him. When I finally saw him walk through the arrivals gate, I rushed over and embraced him tightly. He was no longer the boy I had sent off to serve his country; he was now a man, tall, broad, and incredibly handsome.
That evening, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t help but notice the way Andreas looked at me. It was different from before, not the innocent gaze of a son, but the hungry stare of a man. I felt my cheeks flush, and a strange sensation stirred in my belly. I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to the excitement of his return, but little did I know that this was only the beginning of a forbidden and tantalizing journey.
A few days after Andreas’s return, I was working in the kitchen when he walked in, wearing only a towel around his waist. He was dripping wet from the shower, and his chiseled abs and muscular arms were on full display. I couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by his beauty.
“Mom, I need your help,” he said, leaning in close to me. “My towel doesn’t seem to be doing its job.”
I blushed, aware of the innuendo in his words, but I tried to brush it off. “I’m sure it’s just fine, honey,” I said, trying to focus on my task.
But Andreas was insistent. He grabbed my hands and placed them on the towel, pressing them against his firm abs. I could feel the heat rising from his body, and my heart raced. I knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of desire deep within me.
As I stood there, frozen in the moment, Andreas moved my hands lower, until they brushed against the bulge in his towel. I gasped, my breath catching in my throat, and he took that as his cue. He undid the towel, letting it fall to the floor, revealing his rock-hard cock, standing tall and proud.
I should have stopped him, but I didn’t. I was mesmerized by his manly beauty, and I couldn’t help but want him. He pushed me against the counter, his hands exploring my body, and I felt my guilt melt away in the heat of the moment.
He entered me swiftly, and I cried out in pleasure, wrapping my legs around his waist. His thrusts were deep and powerful, and I met his passion with my own, our bodies moving in unison. As we reached our climax, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me, but it was quickly drowned out by the intensity of the pleasure. This was wrong, but it felt so right.
A week later, I was sitting on the couch, watching TV, when Andreas joined me, wearing only a pair of boxers. He sat close, too close, and I could feel the electricity between us. I tried to ignore it, but the memory of our last encounter was still fresh in my mind.
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Andreas leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Mom, I can’t stop thinking about the other day,” he whispered.
I shivered, both from the pleasure of his touch and the guilt of what we had done. But the temptation was too strong. I turned to face him, and we kissed passionately, our tongues intertwining as our hands explored each other’s bodies.
Andreas pushed me onto my back, and I felt his weight on top of me, his hardness pressing against my thigh. I spread my legs, welcoming him in, and he entered me slowly, his movements gentle and precise. We made love like this for hours, our bodies intertwined, our passion unyielding. As we reached our climax, I felt a pang of remorse, but it was overshadowed by the intensity of our connection.
Two weeks had passed since our last encounter, and I had done my best to avoid Andreas , feeling the weight of our transgressions bearing down on me. But I couldn’t ignore the desire that burned within me, and I knew that I wanted him again. I found him in his bedroom, lying on his bed, shirtless and barefoot. He looked up at me with those hungry eyes, and I knew that I was no longer in control. I wanted him, and I didn’t care about the consequences.
I stripped off my clothes, revealing my naked body to him, and he greeted me with a wolfish grin. He grabbed me by the waist, and I straddled him, my legs on either side of his hips. Andreas gripped my hips, guiding me onto his erection, and I moaned as he filled me, inch by inch. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, and I matched his rhythm, my body moving in sync with his.
We were no longer mother and son; we were two people, bound by an unbreakable desire. As we reached our climax, I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me, and I knew that I was no longer an unwilling participant. I was eager, passionate, and completely consumed by my need for him.
As we lay there, spent and breathless, I knew that there was no going back. We had crossed a line, and there was no turning back. But in that moment, I didn’t care. All that mattered was the feel of his skin against mine, and the knowledge that we had found something truly forbidden and tantalizing.
—> Well, as usual I am going to add my two cents. It is evident that despite her initial reservations, Katia was a willing participant in this incestuous tryst. (I only ever showcase consensual incest on my site.) Also by their 3rd encounter had accepted psychologically that this was her new reality, by embracing her desire and initiating the sex herself. “My Son My Lover” has a certain beauty to it and I believe it enriches my site.
