A Mother's Duty

Damien looked deep into my eyes, and I was simultaneously too turned on and too scared to look anywhere except his dark, beautiful eyes. "Mum, I'm gonna fuckin' cum! I'm gonna cum insideooooooh fuuuuu-" he cried before he stopped speaking real words and we both just started moaning/yelling as his dick seemed to get even thicker inside me as it shot a seemingly endless amount of cum into me. He shuddered and shuddered, his dick shooting my insides full of his genetic code, half of which I was responsible for. And god forgive me, but I loved it. I wrapped my legs around his to keep him in place, and I wrapped my arms around his back as best I could so I could feel his body pressed into me as he came inside me. Sure, he was my son, but now he was so much more. He was my beautiful young lover and the feeling of his dick filling my insides up with cum like his father before him was too sexy for words. And I had done it, I had transformed him from this surly, rude, mean teenage cliche into this incredibly powerful lover.

Once his amazing orgasm had finally subsided, he collapsed onto me, seemingly depleted of all energy. I turned my head to face his, and finally kissed him the way no mother should kiss her son. Thankfully, he wasn't totally out of energy and kissed me back with equal passion. I held his head as our mouths opened, I moaned softly when his tongue began probing my mouth, and I felt his moan fill my mouth when my tongue ventured into his mouth. His lips were so warm, so moist, but oh so very manly. He grabbed my breast - thankfully softer than he did in the lounge room - and massaged it as we kissed. Over a minute of incredibly passionate kissing, my jaw began to tire and I reluctantly broke our kiss. It was time for me to put my feelings out there; I just hoped he wouldn't fall asleep.

"Oh Damien, honestly, that was... probably the best sex I've had since I can remember. I love you so much, I love you infinitely more than any woman should love her son. If this is what it takes to keep you from leaving me and our family, I'm happy to do this as often as it takes, honey. Even before this stuff started, I always felt that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I suppose that's why I'm so reluctant to let you leave. I'm seriously just not ready for you to leave me, Damien. And honestly, I don't think your dad is either. He puts on a brave face, but like me, he feels that you're the glue that keeps this family together. Without you, sweetheart, it just won't be the same. So I'll say it again and then I'll shut up: I love you more than ever, and I really, really don't want you to leave me or us."

"Well, mum, if things continue like they did today, I can't see any reason I'd want to leave." He kissed me on the cheek, then noticed the clock on the wall, which read 4:48pm. "Oh crap, almost five... I could've sworn it was only 3 when I grabbed you in the lounge room. We'd better get moving before dad gets home." I thought it was closer to 4 when he grabbed me, but I agreed that we'd better clean up. When I got out of the shower, I noticed something rather unusual: the clock in our bedroom read 3:57pm. Surely he didn't just move the clock forward to keep from talking about our relationship? Surely...

The rest of that day went smoothly. I didn't confront Damien about his manipulation of the clock, and when my husband came home, I did my best to act normally, but Damien didn't. Instead, he acted even nicer than usual, asking his dad about his day, and if he'd want a beer before dinner. He declined, but wow, it was amazing to see that my efforts to cheer up my son and reconnect with my family were working so well. I made a note to thank Damien for his efforts the next day. Thankfully that night, my husband wasn't feeling particularly randy, so I was able to avoid explaining my hip bruises to him. Plus, after that afternoon's activities, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little sore down there. By the morning, my pain had subsided, so I decided to pay Damien a visit after his dad left for work.

Wearing nothing but a smile, I headed to Damien's room and knocked gently on the door. No answer, naturally; the boy could sleep through armageddon. So I quietly opened the door and stepped into his (messy) room. Sure enough, Damien was on his stomach, sound asleep. He'd kicked the sheets off during the night, and so I was greeted with the sight of his amazing arse framed perfectly by his silk boxers. How could I resist?! I climbed up from the foot of the bed onto my hands and knees, pulled his boxers down as best I could without disturbing him, straddled his legs, and started massaging his arse cheeks. God, they were so round, so symmetrical, so springy and youthful. I leant over and started kissing his back, which was also showing signs of future hairiness, which is always a turn on for women like me who love their men with rugged bodies. He smelled so amazing, I noticed as I kissed between his shoulder blades. By the time I'd kissed down to his lower back, not far from where his arse crack started, I was impatient. I crept back up to his ear, leaned over and informed my sleeping son, "Morning, darling. Mum's got a lovely present for you today."

That did the trick. Damien woke with a start, and when he realised who had woken him, he chuckled. "Well now, I could get used to being woken up like this, mum. Even if it is-" he looked at his bedside clock "-9:30 in the morning? Fuck, you must be desperate, woman." His smile tried to assure me that he was joking, but to this day I'm not entirely convinced he was kidding.

"I wouldn't say that, babe. Let's just say I'm eager to reward you for your exceptionally good behaviour with your father last night; that was so incredibly sweet how you offered him a drink and everything, Damien. Made me so proud of you." He tried to hide his reddening cheeks, but a mother always knows. "Hey now, no need to be embarrassed. You behaved like a real adult, and you deserve a very ...adult reward for that, sweetheart. Now roll over for me." I repositioned myself so that he could, and apparently I didn't need to do much work downstairs to get him ready for the morning's activities. "Well now, I know someone else who must be desperate for it, babe."

"You and I both know that guys wake up with their cocks hard, mum. But still, today it is awfully convenient." He put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss. Despite the morning breath, I still loved the taste of his tongue in my mouth as we defied evolution to express our desires for one another's bodies. I swirled my tongue in a circle around his mouth, and he showed his appreciation by grabbing my crotch and rubbing my clitoris. I moaned loudly and involuntarily into his mouth and grabbed his dick and started pulling at it slowly. Damien decided his hand wasn't going to do the job as fast as he wanted, so he broke our kiss and motioned for me to lie down on my back.

Once I was comfortable, he kissed my cheek, down to my neck, down to the middle of my chest. Here, he made a slight detour and began sucking my nipples. This was nothing like when he used to suck on my breasts for milk as a baby; today, Damien was all about pleasuring us both as he used his tongue to draw circles around my nipples, sucked at them eagerly and squeezed the other breast while he sucked. I moaned when he sucked hard, even enjoying the sensation of him using his teeth to lightly tease and scrape against the tips of my nipples. Eventually he'd had enough of my breasts and continued making his way down my body, kissing my stomach and eliciting a few surprisingly girlish giggles from me when his stubble tickled my sensitive stomach. This only encouraged him, and he kept kissing me until I begged him to stop. Soon, his handsome young face was between my legs, staring at my neatly trimmed bush. He gently nudged my legs apart wider, and leant in, breathing my scent in deeply. "Fuck, if you taste as good as you smell, dad and I are very lucky men, mother dear." With that, he started licking up and down my already-moist opening, deliberately avoiding my clitoris for the moment. Still, his wet, warm tongue felt amazing down there. For an 18 year old, my son definitely knew what he was doing down there. Eventually, he'd had enough teasing me and decided to get serious. His tongue found my clitoris with expert ease, and he started licking it side-to-side, just as I do to pleasure myself. Another involuntary moan escaped me; this only encouraged Damien to lick my clitoris faster. Soon, I was breathing heavily, my own son between my legs, bringing me to orgasm with his tongue.

"Oooh fuck!" I cried. Damien knew I was close. He switched from licking my clitoris to sucking on it. The sensation was almost too intense, but I never wanted it to stop. I grabbed his hair and held his head in place while I started to grind my crotch into his face, fucking a man's face for the first time in my life. He responded by sucking harder and faster, and before long I was screaming "Fuck yes" and once again riding my tidal wave of incestuous pleasure. I felt my face going red, my stomach tightening and releasing in a rhythm entirely its own. When I finally settled down, I eventually remembered to release Damien's hair from my tight grip. He looked up at me with a massive grin, clearly proud of his tongue's work. His cheeks and chin were glistening in the morning light, covered in my juices. "Fuck me, Damien. You've definitely earned it now," I said, foolishly trying to catch my breath before the real fun started.

He simply nodded, lifted my legs onto his shoulders and once again took control of the proceedings. Again, his insertion didn't disappoint on the forceful front. I moaned for more, and he delivered. Using my legs for purchase, my son started fucking me so fast, anyone watching would think he was in fast-forward. Once again, his fingers dug into my pale skin but at that moment, I couldn't care less. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it, and wondered what my husband would do if he saw me covered in bruises and scratches from being fucked so hard. Knowing how much he enjoyed it the day before, once again I started playing with my breasts while Damien watched. "I fucking love watching you play with those big tits, mum," he panted, then seemed to think for a second. "God, I'd love to cum on them, mum, cover you in my fuckin' cum." I didn't object, and I suppose this was my reward: he let go of one of my legs and once again, his hand found my crotch. Still thrusting in and out of me as hard as he could, Damien started rubbing my clitoris with his thumb. It was harder than I could stand, but my cries of "stop" went unheard. He kept rubbing and fucking me, either not hearing but likely ignoring my pleas for less intense stimulation. Thankfully, before long he informed me that he was going to cum.

He withdrew from me as quick as lightning, and scrambled so that he was straddling me, one knee either side of me, just above my waist. He was masturbating furiously, using my juices as a rather effective lubricant. I was relieved to be free of his intense thumb, but even more than that, I was actually eager to watch him spray me with cum, so I offered some dirty words of encouragement as I rubbed my nipples and jiggled my breasts for him. "Oooh, good boy, sweetheart, cum for me, cum all over mum's big tits. I love you so much, Damien, I'll do anything to have to remain my baby boy. Now cum all over me and my breasts, babe."

I guess any amount of cum would have been disappointing after how much he filled me with the day before, but when Damien came that morning, I couldn't hide my disappointment. After some intense buildup, Damien finally brought himself to orgasm, and his dick shot out three wads of cum, all of which landed right on target, on my chest, just underneath the bottom of my neck. "Oooooh fuck yes, play with it, mum." I did as he asked, but I didn't enjoy it anywhere near as much as I would have with Friday's or Tuesday's loads. I smeared my son's cum over my breasts and rubbed it in until it was dry and began to flake on me. Putting my disappointment aside, I thought Damien deserved some credit.

"God, Damien, you making me cum with your mouth... that was amazing, I'm almost scared to ask where you learned to do that, and so young!" He was about to answer, but I honestly didn't want to know, so I cut him off, "Anyway, I just wanted to remind you that, if this is what it takes to keep you from moving out, baby, I'm all aboard and I love you so, so much."

"Thanks, mum. Love you too." He kissed me and massaged my breasts a little more. "Say, mum, you don't mind if I head out pretty soon, do you? Just wanna hang out with some friends. Seems like ages since I've seen some of them, y'know?"

What kind of mother/lover would I be to deny the boy that? "Sure, honey, have a great time! Just, um, ...oh god, this is awkward."

"Hmm?"

"Just, you won't tell anyone about this, will you? I mean...about us, and what we do?"

"Oh fuck no! God, nobody will know what to think. No offence, mum. Actually, some of the guys think you're pretty sexy, but still, this sort of ...arrangement isn't exactly approved of, so our secret is safe, don't worry." At least I raised a sex-crazed son with some sense, I guess. "I'm gonna get dressed now; enjoy your shower, mum."

"Thanks, Damien, I will." I headed out, my head still swirling at just how naughty I was being with my son.

That day, when Damien's dad came home, he again offered him a beer and listened intently about his day in accounting. Damien even cleared the table after dinner!

After dinner, Damien told us that he had something he wanted to tell us. Apparently, that day, he went out with Kyle and Jake, and they found a good 3 bedroom apartment across town, not far from the university where his friends were going to study next month. My husband was surprised, I was devastated. My husband admitted that he was reluctant to let Damien move out, but after admitting he'd noticed a real change in his attitude in the past week, he felt Damien really was mature and happy enough to move out on his own. I was still too shocked to speak.

"Don't worry, mum," Damien reassured me. "You can still come and visit me any time you like!"

"Oh," was all I could reply. "I guess that's a positive, huh?"

Damien started discussing logistics with his father, such as how they'd move all his stuff, and when he would start looking for a job to support himself. I took that opportunity to leave the room, just in time before the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I cried into my pillow for a good 20 minutes while I thought about the past few days. It had all just been an act, a ploy to get us to agree to him moving out with his friends. The perverted part of my mind once again spoke up. At least he thought of me, instead of moving out underneath our noses, Damien had done exactly what I'd wanted of him - he was now acting mature, he was once again a part of our family, and my husband and I both loved him more than ever. In a demented sort of way, I guess I'm glad that my son used sex with me as a means of getting what he wanted... it shows he was still thinking of me, even in his dark, antisocial period. And really, I should take it as a compliment that he found me attractive enough to seduce; it shows I'm still kind of desirable despite being 6 months away from 50. Damien may have been incredibly selfish, deceitful and manipulative, but he was the best son I could have ever asked for. I always considered it a mother's duty to keep her family together and happy, and I honestly can't say I've failed. Damien may be moving out, but he's more a part of this family now than he had been for the past year before that night in the car.

The next morning, I decided to tell Damien all my feelings, and reassure him that, despite all the lies and manipulation, I wouldn't exchange the past week with him for anything in the world. He kissed me the way no man should kiss his mother, and reminded me that he was serious about his invitation to visit him any time I liked - "After all," he said, "I need somebody beautiful to come and christen the bed with me, mum."

Six years from that day, I still "visit" my son in his apartment. And, dear reader, we christened the hell out of that bed, I can assure you.