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Daniel's Enlightenment
by Jennifer Bennett (dbarryllc@gmail.com)

***

A fourteen year old boy sees his mother naked for the 
first time and is never the same afterward. (F/m-
teen, ped, inc, 1st, rom, oral)

***

All the lawyers were in court and would be for the 
rest of the afternoon. The paralegals were busy with 
assignments and the few secretaries they employed 
were all consumed with various tasks that would keep 
them busy for the rest of the day. Her private 
assignment board was current and she had completed 
all the tasks she needed to as office manager.

"Ken?" she said to the receptionist. "I'm going to 
take some personal time. Would you log it please?"

"Sure thing, Jen," Kenny, the receptionist answered.

She drove the short distance home, changed out of her 
work clothes, and slipped a pair of jeans on before 
pulling a light pink polo shirt down and over her 
bra. She stepped into a pair of juaraches, Mexican 
sandals purchased years ago on vacation. She washed 
Danny's dishes from breakfast, dried them, put the 
silverware in the drawer and placed the glass and 
plate in the appropriate cupboard. She glanced at the 
kitchen clock: 2:50. She decided she had more than 
enough time before her son arrived home from school.

In her bedroom, she crawled on hand and knee across 
the king bed and fished the New Olympic Reader and 
Little Courtney's Family Secrets from the night 
stand. She went back to the other side of the bed and 
closed the door. She lowered her jeans until they 
were around her ankles, then thought, "Screw it," and 
stepped completely out of her sandals, jeans and 
panties. She reached behind her back and deftly 
unhooked her bra before lying down on the bed and 
picking up the book of erotic stories.

Her copy of the "Reader" was well-worn; "Little 
Courtney" was even more tattered. Over the years, she 
read every story in the "Reader" and every chapter 
in "Courtney". At least twice. From them, she culled 
five or six stories and four or five chapters into 
those she considered her "favorites", or in another 
way, those that would make her the most excited in 
the least amount of time.

All the stories she chose and all the chapters had 
but one theme: sex by mothers with sons.

She supposed it could be said, and rightfully so, she 
was predisposed to the possibility of a sexual 
relationship of one sort or another with her son. It 
was clear stories of sex between family members were 
the most stimulating to her whenever she masturbated 
and needed some external stimulus to hasten her 
orgasm. She made it a point to read many of them over 
the years since graduating high school.

However, given her predilection for incest stories, 
pedophilia stories did little for her. Actually, they 
didn't interest her at all and the usual signs of 
excitement were never present whenever she read one, 
and she was quick to move onto another story whenever 
she encountered sex with true children. Although she 
tried to refrain from judgment of others for their 
taste in reading materials, she could never move past 
the ability of small children to render true consent. 
Three - five - seven year olds? She thought not.

On the other hand, teenage boys were of special 
interest to her. Kids of that age were certainly able 
to consent to sex with an informed opinion. 
Especially the intelligent and "mature beyond their 
years" kids, like her son. She certainly had been 
able to consent.

The stories about moms and teenage sons never failed 
to arouse her. Perhaps they were the start of her 
thoughts about sex with teens. She didn't know.

Or perhaps that stimulus was a holdover from an 
earlier time.

The attraction to teenage sex was never borne of a 
sense of naughtiness or outright wickedness between 
her brother and her. Merely, it was started by a 
sense of curiosity which, at the time, they both 
shared.

She and her brother masturbated together fairly 
regularly when she was fourteen and he was fifteen, 
especially after school when their parents were at 
work. She even stroked him until he ejaculated on her 
budding chest from time to time and he returned the 
favor whenever she asked him to touch her. He taught 
her to give great oral sex and she reciprocated. 
Alas, it didn't last long. When her brother found his 
first real girlfriend at sixteen, their mutual 
masturbation and oral sex came to an end, although 
she continued to self-caress and play until she had 
sex a few months after her seventeenth birthday.

Was that incest? Of course, in a strict religious 
interpretation, it was, without a doubt. But she 
thought not because they never made love or 
fornicated. And further, she and her brother didn't 
seem to be any the worse for wear from the 
experiences. Each of them was married to a great 
spouse and each of them had kids. And, neither of 
them had ever mentioned it again after it came to an 
end, not out of some misguided sense of self-
condemnatory guilt, but because it just wasn't 
important anymore. Quite simply: they outgrew it.

Jenny began masturbating while reading "My Mother 
Taught Me" from the "Reader". Her vagina lubricated 
as easily as it always had and her nipples took 
almost no time to shrink and become firm inside her 
small, dark aureoles.

She held the book in one hand and fluttered the other 
up and down her body, from breast to vagina and back 
in anticipation of clitoral stimulation. She spent 
extra moments barely brushing the very short hair at 
her vagina. She had regular mani-pedi's and she knew 
the current style among her friends and even their 
teen-age daughters was to be completely bare down 
there, but as yet, she had not succumbed to fashion 
although she did trim the hair between her legs 
regularly. She relished the feeling of barely 
brushing her pubes with a finger or two or even the 
flat of her hand. She shuddered at the sensation as 
she lightly brushed the dark "vee"above her vagina.

At last, she lay the book aside and began in earnest. 
She alternately pinched her nipples and stroked her 
engorged clitoris.

**

On his way home from school, Daniel could see his 
mom's car in the driveway a block away and he 
immediately wondered if she was sick. She was never 
home at three o'clock in the afternoon. He reflected 
and decided he was unable to remember any time his 
mother was ever home this early from work.

He and John, his friend and neighbor continued a 
leisurely pace and after reaching Daniel's house and 
bidding each other good-bye, he opened the front 
door, put his light jacket on the hook and walked the 
short distance to his mother's bedroom. If his mother 
was sick and sleeping, he didn't want to wake her so, 
when he got to her bedroom door, he turned the knob 
slowly, silently and pushed in slowly.

"Holy shit," he thought.

His mother's bed faced away from the door and as a 
result he couldn't see her face for the small lamp on 
nightstand but he could see everything else. His 
mother's breasts were smallish but he thought they 
were the most beautiful in the world. This wasn't 
surprising as they were the only breasts he had seen, 
in person, up to that moment.

This was the first time, though, that he had ever 
seen his mother's vaginal area and now he was looking 
at the dark triangle of hair between her legs and 
watching fingers from both hands working furiously 
toward what he knew would be an orgasm in very short 
order.

His mother's legs were splayed apart granting deeper 
access to her private parts and he knew that this 
sight was one he would never forget. It was also the 
sight many of his friends imagined, behind his back, 
for she was surely the milf they masturbated to each 
night before they went to sleep.

Daniel had admired his mother's collective physical 
charms many times over the years although he couldn't 
remember ever entertaining very many sexual fantasies 
about her until he turned eleven or twelve years old. 
And even then, he didn't think about fucking her or 
making love to her; he just wondered what she looked 
like when she was completely naked. He wondered what 
her vagina looked like up close and personal and he 
especially wanted to feel her breasts and to, 
perhaps, kiss and maybe suck on them as he had as a 
child.

Daniel was no different from any other young boy 
whose hormones had erupted a year or two before; he 
was unable to walk away from the sight of a beautiful 
woman, even his mother, naked before him. His 
curiosity overwhelmed him and he found himself 
mesmerized by the sight, unwilling and unable to move 
from the doorway.

His penis stiffened as soon as he opened the door and 
now they were both lost in their respective reveries. 
He, voyeuristically watched his mother masturbate and 
his mother was certainly very close to a "warm 
fuzzy", as she liked to call it, when the phone next 
to the bed rang, shaking them both.

Thinking the call might be from work, she rolled 
quickly to her left, reaching for the telephone. She 
was more than a little startled to see her son's legs 
in the open doorway. She looked up to see her son's 
"deer in the headlights" look and heard him say, 
"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Okaaay, then," she said somewhat ruefully as she 
rolled back to her right, burying her face in one of 
the large down-filled pillows on the bed.

Daniel now had a view of his mother's round, tight 
bottom. He viewed it for only a second or two before 
he said, "I'm leaving now, Mom," as he pulled the 
bedroom door closed.

Jenny raised her face from the pillow. "I KNOW YOU 
ARE!" 

In his room, Danny began pacing and quietly 
admonishing himself. "God, Danny, how could you be so 
fucking stupid? Moron!" He sat on the edge of his 
bed. "God, Mom is going to be so pissed! Jesus! 
Moron!" 

A minute or so after her son left, Jenny rolled off 
the bed, muttered a 'jeez, louise' and pulled her 
panties and jeans back up around her slim waist. She 
zipped up, fastened her bra with the same deft 
movement as before, lowered the polo shirt, and 
stepped back into the juaraches. 

**

She softly knocked twice on her son's bedroom door 
and then, without waiting to open it, leaned inside. 
Silently, she crooked one finger and motioned her son 
to follow her to the kitchen; she motioned to a chair 
at the table, indicating to him to sit.

She continued on, through the tiny kitchen and into 
the den. She retrieved a bottle of VSOP brandy from 
the top shelf in the closet and when she returned to 
the kitchen, she poured her son an ice tea before 
pouring herself a rather large amount of brandy over 
a few ice cubes. She seated herself across from her 
son and took a fairly long sip of her brandy.

He waited for the onslaught. 

She stared at him for a couple long seconds, his 
shame evident. Then she said, deadpan, "So, how was 
your day?" 

Daniel couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was the 
same question she asked almost every night before 
dinner and he knew right away she wasn't angry with 
him. He had a hard time managing a straight face, but 
he conversationally answered, "Oh, I don't know. I 
guess it was pretty good. How was yours?"

"Oh, you know, pretty average morning," she began, 
"but then, my afternoon became really, really 
exciting."

Her son lowered his head, attempting to suppress 
laughing again. When he looked up, he said "I'm 
sorry, Mom. I'm really, really sorry." He couldn't 
help but chuckle.

"Well, thank you for that. Apology accepted. But let 
me ask this: How long were you at the door?"she 
asked.

"I don't know. Not long. A minute, maybe."

Jenny cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Okay, a little longer. When I got there, you had one 
hand."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, Boy-o," she exclaimed, silencing 
him. "Spare me the play by play, if you don't mind. 
If you remember, I was a featured player in that 
game."

"Okay. Jeez, Mom, it's nothing to be ashamed of"”"

"Hold on," his Mom interrupted, laughing, "are you 
going to give me the 'nothing to be ashamed of, 
everyone does it, perfectly normal speech'? Because I 
think that's my job, Danny, not yours."

Nodding his head only once in agreement, he answered 
"Absolutely. And now that we've had the conversation, 
do we ever need to have it again?"

Jenny stared upward, toward the ceiling as if 
contemplating the question with great seriousness. 
She lowered her face. "Nah," she said a bit 
flippantly. "It's normal. Everybody does it. It's 
nothing to be ashamed of. The only thing is, Danny," 
she said earnestly, "most mothers don't masturbate 
with a SON watching."

They both laughed. 

"I get it, Mom. Look," he said contritely, "what can 
I do to make what happens this afternoon, up to you? 
I said I was sorry, and I am."

Jenny stood, fetched the brandy from the counter and 
poured herself another drink, then, as an 
afterthought, she added a small amount to his ice 
tea.

"Don't worry about it, Kiddo," she finally said. 
"You'll think of something."

"So I'm forgiven?"he asked.

Jenny stared into her son's eyes without speaking. 
"Wow," she thought. "What a question."

It was fully a minute before she spoke. "I'm not sure 
forgiveness is the right thing to ask for," she 
began, finally, her voice soft and serious.

"Why not?" he asked.

Jenny paused before answering. "Well, I'm not certain 
you did anything wrong," she answered. "I mean, 
before I came to your room to get you, I tried to 
remember when I was your age. I think I would have 
done the same thing if I found my father doing what I 
was doing this afternoon."

"Really?" Danny asked, a tinge of disbelief in his 
voice.

His mother paused a bit.

"Yeah," his mother said thoughtfully. "You know. 
Hormones. Puberty. Curiosity. Those are surely the 
deadly triumverate. And," she continued, "I don't 
doubt for a minute I would have watched. Yeah," she 
nodded affirmatively, confessing. "I definitely would 
have watched. No doubt about it."

"Wow," was all he could say.

They drank silently for a minute enjoying each 
other's presence. Danny wondered what the dollop of 
brandy in his ice tea was all about, but then 
dismissed it as merely a gesture that something had 
changed between them and that it would be okay.

His mother was nearly through her second drink when 
she asked, "What do you want for dinner? Burgers? Or 
chili?"

"Both."

"I can do that," she laughed.

"I'm going to go shower," he announced as he rose 
from the table.

Jenny stood too. "Give me a hug," she said. 

They stood at the table and hugged. It was a 
different hug than the ones they shared before. It 
was a little tighter, a little closer, and it lasted 
just a bit longer than any hug he remembered. His 
mother's groin was noticeably closer to his, too.

It was nice and it felt good.

To both of them.

**

Jenny molded the burger patties into the proper size 
for Kaiser rolls, sprayed the broiler pan, and placed 
the paddies on it. She set the buns on the counter 
and started the leftover chili in a small sauce pan 
on very low heat. She assembled a small, dinner salad 
which she knew Danny would barely touch. That was 
okay. She'd eat what he didn't.

She set the table, placed the salads in the fridge, 
covered the chili with the pan cover slightly cocked, 
and poured herself another drink. She added a bit of 
water to this one, diluting it a bit.

As she sat next to the stove, sipping her third 
drink, she leafed through a Vanity Fair seeking an 
article she had not yet read, but found herself 
stopping at ads that showed young boys in Calvin 
Klein underwear and although she thought the boys 
were to be of an age before they could pose like 
this, she knew they couldn't be. 

They were a lot like her son. They were firm and hard 
and gorgeous with blank looks directly into the 
camera. The girls in the pictures were best described 
as drugged out sluts, but the boys were angelic, even 
beautific.

Inadvertently and subconsciously, she began to 
replace the models in the pictures with her son, 
Danny. His face was certainly to the standards of 
VF"” which was to say he was beyond cute and well 
into handsome while retaining a sexy, young boy look. 
From what his mother observed, his body was at least 
as good and in some cases much better than the models 
that were being paid stratospheric sums of money to 
have a picture taken. 

She focused too, on the boys' crotches. She hadn't 
seen her son's naked cock in years, sometime around 
the time he turned seven or so, but she imagined 
Danny would be as large, even larger, than the boys 
in the ads. If his father was any indication, he 
would be larger than the boys she was comparing him 
to.

**

While he was in the shower, Danny developed a thought 
that concerned his mother. He wasn't thinking of sex 
with her: he was contemplating what he could do to 
repay her for his incursion into her privacy. And 
then it hit him and he knew what he was going to do.

He was greatly relieved his mother wasn't angry, but 
then he should have known she wouldn't be. Anger was 
not a feeling to be found in his mother's emotional 
repertoire. Frustration? Sure. Exasperation? From 
time to time, but he couldn't remember his mother 
being 'furious' or even angry in all his time on 
planet Earth.

He turned the water off, stepped from the shower, 
dried himself with the generous bath sheet and looked 
into the large mirror above the vanity. 

As he looked at his body he decided he wasn't that 
half bad. Although he was fourteen, he was pretty 
well developed. His chest was pretty strong albeit 
with only a small patch of adult chest hair. His 
abdomen wasn't of "six-pack" quality, but it was 
firm, even hard. 

His hips were narrow and manly and his legs were 
well-developed from the gym, cross-country track in 
the spring, and skiing each winter. He did a vanity 
flex and was satisfied. His arms seemed to have 
muscular bumps where they were supposed to be and his 
neck muscles actually sloped a little away from his 
neck. Well, no, they didn't, but he didn't care.

Although he had been contemplating what he was about 
to do, his penis hung flaccidly between his legs. 
Soft, it was no more than two and a half or three 
inches or so, a boy's penis, but this didn't bother 
him. He compared favorably with other boys he saw in 
the shower every other day at school. And, anyway, he 
knew from experience that when he was sexually 
excited, his penis would grow to be five or five and 
a half inches and it would become, however so 
slightly, larger around.

His only disappointment was that he possessed very 
little pubic hair and even though he had been 
masturbating since discovering the practice in the 
bath tub when he was eleven, his scrotum was small 
and tight, no larger than a plum. Well, a fairly 
large plum but, nonetheless, a plum.

He turned to look at his backside over a shoulder and 
was pleasantly surprised at the muscular firmness of 
his bottom. He laughed out loud as he realized his 
was exactly like one he had witnessed on his mom 
earlier in the day.

All in all, he was happy with himself, even proud.

He had a good body, and he was confident in his 
knowledge of it.

He walked the very short distance, naked, from the 
bathroom into his room.

**

He felt under his dresser and found the copy of 
"Hustler" a friend of his had given him ages ago.

Before he lay down, he thought of his mother. And 
when he lay down, he thought of her more. He did not 
dwell on the things he had seen earlier. Of course 
the sight of his mother's breasts, vagina, long 
splayed legs, and her hands searching her body, 
caressing her body were indelibly imprinted on his 
memory.

Nonetheless, he thought of her as he saw her before 
that afternoon.

She had the darkest hair of anyone he had ever known. 
It could have been described as brunette or dark, but 
that wouldn't have nearly covered it. In fact, it was 
nearly a blue/black, thick, shiny mane that 
mesmerized everyone who saw it. It had an effect on 
women, too. Her hair cascaded down, off her shoulders 
to mid or lower collar and seemed to luster under the 
sun, sprinkling golden sparkles into the air wherever 
she walked.

As her son, he had witnessed the effect many times 
and he didn't know how many men and women admired 
her, either sexually or just out of adulation for her 
thick, dark tresses.

The eyes into which he had been looking since the day 
he was born were difficult to describe. Yes, they 
were brown. However, they were a deep, dark, coppery 
brown and deeply intense. They were brown, dark 
brown, but so much more. They were deep and dark and 
he thought, and had thought, that whenever his mother 
looked at him with even a modicum of intensity, she 
could see into his soul.

She had a fine, straight aquiline nose set between 
naturally thin, dark eyebrows, and a narrow face that 
complemented her lithe body. Her complexion was 
darker than his, a gift from and Iranian grandmother 
or grandfather granted long ago in some recessive 
gene.

It didn't matter. In his mind, his mother was the 
most beautiful and desirable woman in the world.

As he looked through the magazine, he lazily felt his 
dick and looked through the pictures. At the end of 
the magazine, he came across the part of the magazine 
in which readers submitted pictures of girlfriends 
and other important people in their lives.

"My mother Rachel, taken by her son Daniel."

"Fuck," he thought. "A mother."

The woman was laid out, au plait, her cunt seemingly 
open and willing to accept any penis. She reminded 
him of his mother, especially the willingness to 
accept a cock. She seemed to be open and willing.

**

Jenny heard the shower shut off. For some reason, 
there was a fairly loud "clunk" in the pipes when 
the valves to the shower were closed. It had been 
that way since the day they bought the house and 
although she was adamant about having it fixed, it 
had never been done.

She checked the chili, stirred it, and lowered the 
heat. She stood at the kitchen counter leafing 
through the Vanity Fair and after five or six minutes 
passed, she called loudly to her son. "Fifteen 
minutes, Danny," she called, warning her son they 
would soon sit down to dinner.

She had been reading for only a minute or two when 
she realized her son had not acknowledge her earlier 
call for dinner.

"Danny?" she called again. Still, there was no 
answer. "Huh?" she thought, puzzled. She stirred the 
chili, turned off the burner, and placed the cover on 
the small pan. As she was about to leave the kitchen, 
she put the burgers into the pre-heated broiler and 
left the kitchen on her way to see what was happening 
with her son.

As she turned the corner through the living room and 
looked down the short hallway, barely twenty five or 
thirty feet away she was about to call to her son. 

Then she saw him. 

"Awww, Jeez," she thought, contemplating the 
ramifications of her earlier display and her son's 
actions now. At the end of the hall, her son was 
reading a magazine, naked, his legs off the edge of 
the bed and he was obviously in early throes of some 
type of sexual excitement. Even from her perspective 
of thirty feet or so, it was apparent that her son, 
Danny, had showered, was naked, and was stroking his 
penis with a certain amount of slow reverie.

Jen returned her attention to the kitchen. She 
removed the burgers, stopped the broiler, moved the 
chili to a cool burner before she returned to the 
living room and hallway on the way to her son's room.

**

She was barely feet away when she took the next two 
steps to her son's doorway and paused, watching. She 
leaned easily against the door jam, crossed her arms, 
and then her feet as she stood casually watching her 
son's cock.

The magazine was "Hustler". One of the most 
despicable magazines she had ever seen for its 
diminishment of women in particular and its general 
corruption of the beauty of sex. Although some of the 
sex was disgustingly exciting, she had to admit.

Her son's body was beautiful. Perfect, she thought. 
His body was the embodiment of every fourteen year 
old boy she had ever fucked or played with either in 
her dreams or reality.

"Fuck," she thought, somewhat regretfully. "This is 
going to be tricky."

She watched her son stroke himself, although he 
didn't seem to be much into it. He stroked slowly. 
Nonetheless, his cock was erect and she thought only 
of touching, playing, caressing, and doing whatever 
with the cock that reminded her so much of her 
brother.

She felt a familiar ping or dribble or whatever 
between her legs. It was not a pee ping. It was her 
cunt reminding her of sex. Her vagina was moistening 
as she watched a boy play with is young, nearly 
hairless cock. A young cock. A penis. Her boy's 
penis.


Without a touch, her breasts became firm, and nipples 
hardened.

In short, her cunt and her body flowed with sex as 
she watched her son, naked, upon his bed.

She watched her son another thirty seconds or so. 

"Daniel, what are you doing?" she said softly from 
the doorway.

The boy sprang up releasing his penis and dropping 
the magazine. 

"Mom!" he exclaimed as if surprised.

"Oh, be quiet, Danny. Shhh," she admonished, holding 
her palm upward to stop whatever he was about to say. 
"Do you think for a second that I don't see what's 
going on? Well, do you? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He had to pause for a second. "No, Mom, I don't."

"Well, what DO you think of me, Danny?" she asked.

There was a long silence.

"Well, I like seeing you every day," he said, 
somewhat sheepishly.

She laughed and it seemed to release the tension in 
the room. "You mean 'seeing me' like you did this 
afternoon?"

"N-N-No Mom, I meant..."

His mother put a finger to her lips, silencing him. 
"Shush. I know what you meant. That was a joke," she 
smiled. "Gotcha," she added, laughing.

Daniel's erection was dissipating, only a memory as 
he reached for the comforter at the foot of his bed 
to cover himself.

"Oh, no, no, no, you don't," she interrupted, waving 
a finger back and forth in admonishment. "You don't 
get off that easily, Boy-o."

Daniel's arm stopped in mid-motion. "What do you 
mean?"

**	

His mother entered the room. She sat on the bed a 
number of inches from her son. She handed him the 
lubricant and picked the magazine up to see what her 
son had been looking at.

She found the picture of "Rachel" almost immediately 
and showed it to her son. "You were looking at this, 
weren't you," she said. It was not a question. The 
woman in the photo was not particularly attractive 
and was more than a few years older than she was. 
Nonetheless, her body was admirable in an older sort 
of way. Her breasts seemed firm with small, taut, 
light brown nipples set in small aureoles and she 
carried not an ounce of fat. The legs were long and 
her vagina was waxed into a narrow strip of short, 
neatly trimmed pubic hair. 

His mother lay down next to him, a comfortable four 
or five inches from his naked body. 

"You know this is a mother, right?"

"Evidently, it's the photographer's mother, Mom," 
Danny laughed.

His mother looked at him. "Do you ever think of me 
like this? Naked? I need to know the truth, Danny."

"Not before earlier."

"And now?" she asked.

Her son couldn't answer. His feelings were 
predominantly of guilt.

"Danny?" she encouraged.

"I can't stop seeing you that way." His penis was 
hard again.

"Give me that," she said, nodding at the lube. She 
squeezed a small amount into her palm and started 
stoking his erection.

"Aw, jeez," he moaned softly.

His mother misunderstood and stopped her hand for a 
second. "Do you want me to stop?" 

"No. No. I don't want you to stop."

"Slide up on the bed and put your hands behind your 
head." They both slid up and she snuggled next to him 
and started her ministrations again as she rose up on 
one elbow and propped her head on her hand.

"When you think of the naked me, do you think of 
anything else? Do you think of sex with me?" Before 
he could answer, she whispered "Don't talk. You don't 
need to answer." She continued her ministrations.

The woman had serious reservations about the 
Pandora's box she was opening with her son. 
Everything she had ever learned, either in the church 
she used to attend or at school or university said to 
her that what she was doing with her son's penis was 
forbidden by some unwritten commandment and that this 
would lead to nothing good. Her son's nipples were 
hard and she leaned forward, softly nipping one. She 
leaned back as she continued to stroke and lazily 
watched her own hand. She was moving it somewhat 
slowly although her pace had picked up a bit since 
the inception of the act. 

She wondered if stealing surreptitious looks at her 
son and imagining him naked when he was wearing 
shorts, or boxers, was incest in the truest sense of 
the word. Was it incest to do what she was doing now? 
Or was incest confined to the act of sex, actual sex, 
between a mother and son or a father and daughter? 
Did incest require an actual act of insertion into a 
vagina to constitute incestual sex? Were the things 
she and her older brother did when they were young 
constitute incest? Or could the petting and kissing 
be chalked up to youthful exuberance or simple 
pubescent curiosity?

**	

Her son's penis had absorbed the lotion so she took 
removed her hand and spit in it before returning it 
to her son's manhood. And it really was a quite nice 
representation of a sexual member. If it kept growing 
as her son matured, he would have a penis that would 
make any woman happy.

Danny opened his eyes. "Did you just spit in your 
hand?"

"Yep," she answered lightly.

"Is that what girls do?"

She laughed out loud. "You better hope so, Boy-o, or 
you're in for a very painful hand-job."

"So that's what this is!" he laughed.

"Yep. Hand-job. That's what this is," she said as 
she joined his laughter. "We're being naughty, you 
know," she added, smiling.

He was laughing again. "Oooohhh yeeaah. This 
definitely qualifies as naughty, Mom. Maybe even a 
little perverse."

She stopped stroking and released him. She moved her 
hand to his flat, firm tummy, but he didn't seem to 
mind that she had stopped.

"Do you really think so? That this is perverse?" she 
asked.

Danny was quiet for a moment as he looked into his 
mother's beautiful, dark brown eyes. He seemed to be 
thinking of his response.

"Let me put it like this, Mom," he began earnestly. 
"I really didn't expect that the first hand to touch 
my dick..."

"Ah, ah, ah," she interrupted. "You're what?"

"Okay. I never expected the first hand, not my own, 
to touch my PENIS," he corrected, "would be my 
mom's. But I'm really glad it was. Uh, is," he added 
as he moved her hand back to his failing erection.

"So. Perverse?" she asked after she spit into her 
hand again and began jacking him once more.

"You know what Dad would say."

"What?" 

"The answer to that question is way above my pay 
grade. And, besides, I really don't want to put a 
judgment on this. It feels good. I like it. I only 
hope you like doing it, too."

"Oh, I do," she answered, soulfully "I really do. You 
feel good. Nice and strong."

"Don't you mean nice and hard?" he asked, laughing 
again.

"Yeah, that too!" she exclaimed, laughing softly. 
"Damn, my arm is killing me," she added.

She placed her aching arm under his neck and rested 
her head on his shoulder. His erection was directly 
in her eye line and she marveled at its firmness and 
well, its beauty. It was a wonderful sight to see, 
she thought as she staggered her pace slightly.


"Danny, may I kiss you? Not a mom kiss. A real kiss. 
A love kiss."

"You know you may and you know I want you to."

Danny turned toward his mother as she rolled toward 
him. His arms went around her and she put a one leg 
over his. She softly pressed her lips on his. He 
hadn't kissed many girls in his life but if the rest 
of the girls he kissed were even close to this, he 
would be happy. No, he would be ecstatic. His 
mother's lips were almost unbelievably soft and he 
was additionally excited by just a hint of her 
perfume from the morning. His penis was as hard as he 
could ever remember it being and his mother had not 
stopped stroking him as she kissed. He moved his 
hands toward her breast but she stopped him. 

"Not yet, Cowboy," she said, her voice husky.

They began again and as if on cue, their lips parted 
and she invited her son into her warm, moist mouth. 
Their tongues danced slowly, savoring the taste and 
texture of the other's insides. They kissed softly, 
then more fervently, then softly again. 

She stopped the kiss for a moment to plant soft, 
loving kisses on her son's forehead, then on his eyes 
and cheeks until she found his mouth again. She 
lingered on her son's mouth until disengaging and 
slipping down to lick his neck with the very tip of 
her moist tongue. She dribbled lower, pausing at his 
erect nipples to suck and gently bite each of them. 
Her tongue traced ever lower before she stopped. 

Suddenly, she stood up on her knees, reaching over 
Daniel's head to grab his two pillows. She placed 
them under her son's head before standing and 
removing her blouse, then the bra. She kicked off her 
shoes and slipped easily from her jeans. She knealt 
at the edge of her son's bed. The bed was the perfect 
height for her and she was able to see her son's 
beautiful erection. Her son's penis bobbed with each 
beat of his heart.

After she grasped his penis, she looked at her son 
again staring for a long moment as if she was making 
a decision.

"Boy-o, I think the first lips to touch your penis 
are going to be your Mom's. Is that okay?"

He nodded, but only twice. He and his mother knew 
they were crossing a line that would be difficult to 
come back from but neither of them seemed to care at 
that point. Her vagina had begun to lubricate during 
their first real kiss and it had not stopped. She 
knew her panties were soaked from her fully 
lubricated cunt. Small clear drops from Danny's penis 
were evident too when she was stroking him and she 
intended to taste the drops of pre-come. Even though 
there was little of this fluid escaping from her 
son's erection, she knew she would savor it as much 
as she had savored her brother's.

He watched as his mom released her soft clutch on his 
penis and put her hands on his hard, strong thighs. 
She gently pushed them a bit farther apart and he 
accommodated her. Without moving her gaze from his, 
she lowered her face to his groin.

She started at his scrotum with the tip of her 
tongue. Danny moaned at the touch. She felt the 
invisible fuzz on the small, tight sack and allowed 
herself to swirl in it. She toyed with him for a 
second or two and then began to slowly trace her 
mouth up his erection. As she reached its end, she 
used two fingers to pull it forward until it was 
standing straight up, nearly pointing at the ceiling. 

Softly, she mouthed her son, taking only a small 
portion of the head on his circumcised penis, teasing 
him lightly, gently, even sweetly. She placed a 
small, soft, even chaste kiss on the very tip of his 
erection at the place where she knew his sperm would 
soon erupt and then allowed her tongue to merely 
tickle the opening at the center of his glans.

She looked at her son once more. "I love you, Danny," 
she whispered and then returned to the fellatio she 
was about to perform. And then she began to perform 
the delicious act she had performed on her brother, 
her husband, and not a few distant high school and 
college lovers.

She knew that her pace would be agonizingly slow. Her 
brother taught her that. She barely moved a 
centimeter every two seconds as she lowered her mouth 
around her son's penis. She continued, savoring the 
feeling of his penis in her as she moved slowly 
downward. She used her tongue to massage the 
perfectly formed erection that was exciting her 
beyond any sensation she had a right to expect. She 
was careful to keep her teeth out of the equation. He 
brother taught her that, too.

When the penis with which she was now more than 
familiar touched the beginning of her throat, she 
plunged her head downward until she completely 
engulfed her son. She did not move.

Danny was only able to issue a barely audible, 
"uuuuuunnnngh!"

With her son's penis embedded in her throat, she was 
unable to breathe but she didn't care. The feeling of 
this large piston in her mouth excited her even more 
than most sex as she pleasured whomever the lucky 
person was to place his penis in her mouth and push 
it to the very depths of her mouth and throat.

She held her position on her son until she felt the 
familiar stirring and trembling of a man about to 
ejaculate. She moved her head upward, rapidly, until 
he was nearly out of her mouth. She clutched his 
penis at its base, squeezing tightly enough to close 
the urethra, but not hard enough to cause pain.

Without glancing up, she whispered, "Not yet! Not 
yet!"

Daniel was nearly unable to see his mother's face as 
her black hair cascaded down and onto his thighs and 
she moved her mouth down, onto his manhood again. He 
felt the head of his penis press the back of her 
throat and then she began the slow movement up until 
she was nearly to its tip and then she started down 
again, clutching her son's erection. 

She was excited and the copious amount of fluid that 
seeped from her vagina showed it. She seemed to 
increase the speed of her mouth and hand as she 
ravished the beautiful penis. She banged it at the 
back of her throat and continued stoking and sucking 
faster and faster until her son could no longer 
contain it. 

"Muh.. nnnhhh," he groaned. His hands found his 
mother's head. 

She lifted her face long enough to utter "Yes. Now," 
and then she was back on him in time to feel his 
eruption and to savor the taste of her son's sperm. 
The teenage sperm from her son poured into her mouth 
and throat. The sensation was not physical for her. 
It was deeply emotional as her son used her motherly 
throat to accept him in his first sexual encounter. 
His cock bumped at the depth of her throat exciting 
her beyond reason and her cunt dripped as she was 
throat fucked. 

She kept his penis in her mouth after he was done, 
gently stroking the last vestiges of his ejaculate. 
In fact, she kept him in her mouth until he was 
nearly soft again and his breathing had returned to a 
semblance of normal.

When they were done, she rose up on her knees and 
opened her mouth to show her son the tribute to his 
cock she cherished.

"Eew!" He, clearly, was not amused and perhaps even a 
little revolted at the sight of his mother's mouth 
filled with his sperm.

His mom tilted her head back and laughed through the 
thick slippery stuff in her mouth. To him, it sounded 
more like she was gargling with a thick substance, 
something viscous. Then she swallowed. It took two 
motions of her throat muscles to get it down but when 
she opened her mouth and rolled her tongue around he 
could see it was gone. He was fascinated and not just 
a little bit amazed by the whole pornographic 
process.

She stood up. She nodded at a place next to him on 
the bed and asked, "May I?"

He patted the spot next to him and his mom slipped 
onto the bed and under his arm. She returned her head 
to his shoulder.

"That was nice," she said softly. "Fun," she added.

"Really?" he asked. "Do you like doing that?"

His mother raised herself and looked at him 
quizzically.

"No," she finally said, laughing. "I find the thought 
of my son putting his cock into my mouth and having 
me suck until he ejaculates absolutely abhorrent. 
Abhorrent!" she added with mock seriousness.

Then she laughed.

They nestled together for a few minutes before she 
noticed his breathing was becoming deep and regular. 
"Hey," she said, shaking him gently.

"What?"

"If you're anything like every other man I've ever 
known, you need a nap about now. I'm going to go 
shower and make dinner. I'll wake you when it's 
ready. Here," she said raising from the bed. "Scoot 
around and I'll cover you."

Daniel moved to lay his body lengthwise on the bed as 
his mother covered his beautiful, naked body. His 
cock was soft, but she couldn't resist placing a 
soft, loving kiss on it before she pulled the covers 
up and over her son's body. She remembered and 
relished her son's cock deep in her throat. She 
reflected that covering him now, after all they had 
just done, really wasn't much different than covering 
him at any other time when he was younger. Much 
younger. 

Jennifer Bennett loved her son. 

It was as simple as that.

END

Dependent upon what people email me 
(dbarryllc@gmail.com) about this story, I may write 
more.

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 73