Crossing the most sacred of boundaries

Ten minutes later, you step out of the shower and begin toweling yourself off. Despite being practically herded in there by your mother and sister, you’d found it a nice respite to gather your thoughts and relax under the constant flow of hot water. Today has easily been one of the best days of your life, with yesterday being a contender as well. You’d had sex with three different women and fooled around with two more. How many men can say that they’ve done that, all within the same day, and without having to hire prostitutes or escorts?

You allow a small smile to spread across your face as you step out of the shower. The window and mirror are slightly fogged up. Cool air wafts against your skin. You shiver, and hastily reach for a green towel to dry yourself off. Satisfied, you wrap the towel around your waist and open the bathroom door.

The hallway is empty and silent.

You stand there for a few moments to see if you can hear Mom or Tiffany talking downstairs, but the only sound you can really hear aside from the occasional trill of a bird outside is the distant bellowing of the television. Dad must still be watching the game.

You pass Tiffany’s room on the way to yours. Her door’s open. You take a quick peek inside and find it empty. She’s still downstairs then. Good.

You keep walking, and when you reach your room, the door is shut. Strange. You remember leaving it open when you took off your clothes to go take a shower.

You grab the doorknob and twist. The hinges whine slightly, years of doing their job tirelessly has apparently taken its toll.

Mom’s sitting on your bed. She’s holding something in her lap. A book. You recognize it. It’s one of the ones you’d read and kept on your shelf. It seems as though she’d been perusing the pages before you’d arrived. She shuts the book and places it on the bedside table.

“Oh. Uh. Hey,” you’re at a loss for words. But somehow you’re not surprised she’s here.

“Hi,” she manages a polite smile and puts her hands on the tops of her thick, juicy thighs. Her eyes rove over your body, lingering on your exposed chest for much longer than normally appropriate.

“What were you just reading?” you ask, trying to quell the nervousness in your chest. You’re also genuinely curious. She’d never shown any interest in your books before. Or really anything you’d kept up here. As long as you were neat, Mom never really minded what you did with your room.

“Ah, I saw this on your shelf and was wondering what you liked to read. I’m partial to historical fiction myself. And crime. But you seem to prefer fantasy and science fiction. Escapist fiction,” she holds up your book. The cover is dark blue and depicts a haggard, wounded knight wielding a chipped sword, standing in front of a group of silhouetted figures, gesturing to some unseen destination beyond. “When I saw the cover, I thought it’d be just another wish fulfillment fantasy novel, but the author is surprisingly clinical and well-detailed when he describes everything.”

You shut the door behind you and lock it with an audible snap. Mom doesn’t bat an eyelash.

“Yeah, it’s a good book,” you say, remembering the countless nights you’d spent lying down in your bed, your eyes devouring page after page. Wishing you were in the places you only traveled to in your mind. “I didn’t know you were into reading.”

“No?” she frowns, her tone somewhat surprised. “I’ve been reading for pleasure since I was younger than you. It’s always been one of my favorite pastimes.”

You should have known that. Her expression seems to say.

“I had no idea.” She wouldn’t have believed you if you tried to lie. “Well, it’s nice to know we have something in common after all.”

She nods, though something about her expression seems displeased.

“I’d like to think we share more than just a love of reading,” she says, casting a meaningful glance at you.

Like what? You want to ask.

“Yeah, me too.”

You approach her. She tenses slightly when you sit down next to her, but remains where she is. Her eyes are wide. Her hands fidget slightly in her lap. Nervous. You’ve never seen her like this before. This side of her. The part she never deemed you worthy of.

There’s a period of silence where you can only hear her breathing.

With your right hand, you reach into her lap slowly and grasp her left hand. A small shiver passes through her. She swallows. Her cheeks flush slightly. You rub your thumb along the back of her hand, enjoying the sensation of her soft skin.

“Are you okay?”

She nods shakily.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened in the basement now?” you say.

She gives your hand a squeeze.

“I do. I… didn’t leave things on the best of terms. I actually wanted to apologize for that. It was wrong of me to rush out of there without giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

You blink.

She raises an auburn eyebrow.

“No need to look so surprised,” she huffs and pulls her hand out of yours.

Oh, so it’s like that, huh?

You suppress a chuckle.

“Why not? It’s not like you make a habit of saying sorry when you do something wrong.”

She glares at you. Normally you’d find that annoying or intimidating, but now it just makes her look incredibly hot. Damn, the way those beautiful, intelligent eyes of hers narrow when she’s upset and those plump lips pout…

“That’s because-” she begins heatedly, but cuts herself off, muttering a quiet curse. “Okay, we’re getting sidetracked. How about we stay focused on the topic at hand?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing. We kissed and then you got upset and left without giving me a chance to talk to you or explain things. Did you just apologize for that or did I mishear you?”

“You didn’t mishear me. I meant every word of what I said. But we’re not having this talk to iron out all the issues we have with each other. Just this one,” she says.

“Do we have so many issues that we can’t resolve them in one conversation?” you can’t help but ask.

She smiles sadly.

“I think you already know the answer to that question, but yes. I’m not blind, John. Do you think I’m not aware of the fact that aside from the occasional dinner conversation, we almost never talk? That lately, the two of us have treated each other more like strangers than as bo- mother and son? Oh, I’m very much aware of that. I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the past couple days or so and I’m really unsure how or why I allowed things to get to this point. But it doesn’t matter right now. Please, can we just talk about what happened in the basement for now? If the conversation progresses from there, so be it, but I really want to get this out of the way as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” you mutter. “So, the basement. We worked out and then we kissed.”

Her cheeks flush again. She licks her lips nervously.

“We did. I, uh, I was pretty surprised by that. Did it… did it bother you at all? Kissing me, I mean,” she says.

You shake your head.

“No,” you’re sure it’s the firmest you’ve ever spoken the word in your life.

“But, I’m your mother,” she phrases it more like a question than a statement of fact. “I’m also more than twice your age.”

You meet her eyes unflinchingly. You want her to know how serious you are.

“I don’t care. You’re beautiful and sexy and amazing. And smart. You’re smarter than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re not afraid to say what’s on your mind and you don’t take shit from anyone. And you read. That makes you even hotter in my book.”

A full on blush colors her pale face. Her sapphire eyes stare at you with naked surprise. Her lips twitch upward slightly in amusement.

“Nice pun,” she mutters.

You snort.

“Wow, I didn’t even mean for it to come out that way. But yeah, you pretty much know how I feel right now. You might be my mother. You might be older than me. But I don’t really care about that sort of thing. As far as I’m concerned, back in the basement, that was just two consenting adults showing each other affection. There’s nothing wrong with that,” you gently place your hand atop her thigh and squeeze.

She looks down at your hand, and you tense, expecting her to yell at you. A moment passes, and she looks back at you.

“Somehow I don’t think a lot of people would agree. First off, there’s a law against what we did. A very serious law created for good reasons. If we get caught, and whoever discovers us reports us to the police, we could end up in prison! And then there’s the reaction of everyone around us. Tiffany and… and your father. Your aunt and grandmother. Your cousins. Our friends. My job. Everyone we’ve ever met would be disgusted with us if they knew what we did. Our lives could be destroyed. Maybe you’re too young to understand the risks at play here since I seem to be the only one taking them seriously!”

Honestly, now that you think about it, you doubt you and Mom would actually go to jail for ****. Say someone reports you to the authorities, they may not be able to even prove anything, and even if they could, the power you have in this world would give you options most other people wouldn’t have in your position. Lawyers. Judges. Police officers. Those aren’t male-only occupations. Many of them are women, and several of them, especially the more experienced and powerful ones will have had children. It’s not far-fetched to assume that you might be immune to prosecution generally thanks to your ability.

With enough powerful women in your pocket, you could probably get away with a lot of things. Still, you would prefer to stay out of the limelight. It’d be much easier to go about bringing women under your influence without having to worry about people being interested in the guy and his Mom who managed to consummate an incestuous relationship without the authorities doing anything about it.

“Hey,” you give her thigh what you hope is a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not blind, Mom. I know the risks for what we’re doing. I know how bad things can get if someone finds out about us, but there’s no reason we can’t just be very careful. Like, say we’re home and Tiffany and Dad are out. Would it really be that risky for us to show each other how we feel when it’s just the two of us?”

She closes her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh before opening them again.

“Probably not,” her eyes widen, as if she’s surprised by the admission. That she’s even allowing for the possibility. And so are you. Not by the fact that she actually feels something for you. You’d programmed her mind. No, you’re surprised that the feelings are apparently strong enough to override whatever disgust she might feel towards the concept of ****. All of her objections thus far have been about the risks of discovery. Not about the supposed immorality of what the two of you have done.

She recovers quickly.

“But what if they come back home unannounced while we’re busy…” she doesn’t say it. “What happens then? How do we manage that risk?”

Not so easily. Tiffany, you can handle. Next hypnosis session, you can program her to ignore anything you and Mom do. Or be okay with what you’re doing.

Your manhood stiffens.

You could even have her get turned on by it. By the idea of **** itself. You could have her masturbate to the idea of you and Mom having sex. Make her fantasize about what it would be like if she joined in.

But you can’t tell Mom that. At least, not yet. The idea of Mom being aware of what you can do and not only being okay with it, but supporting it stirs something inside you that you didn’t know existed. You can just imagine her bringing all her hot friends over and keeping them occupied until they fall into their daily trance, and then giving you helpful tips while you reprogram their minds to serve you.

Dad, though. Dad’s a problem. You’ll never be able to control him. Never be able to just make him step aside and let his wife fuck their son. He’d probably try to **** you if he caught you. If you and Mom are going to have any sort of future together, he has to go.

“Tiffany and Rick can get their own place. I know Rick’s saving up for one as we speak so it’s only a matter of time before she moves out, let’s be real. We could help them along.”

“We?”

“I told you I’m getting a job soon. I’ll help foot the bill for Tiffany’s new place if it gets me alone with you,” you smile.

She snorts, but the small smile she gives you tells you you’ve pleased her.

“Don’t be absurd. If it comes down to that, I’ll handle it,” she says, and gives you a playful shove with her shoulder. “I think the right course of action would be for you to start saving up for a place of your own, young man. Then I could come visit you as often as I wanted. I doubt anyone would think much of a mother coming to spend time with her newly-independent son.”

Your erection hardens further, creating a tent pole in your towel. You move your free arm to block it from view, but you’re too late.

Mom’s eyes flick downward. She lets out an audible gasp before quickly schooling her features. Her thighs shift slightly, grinding against each other. She crosses her legs.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” she almost purrs. “You naughty man.”

Nodding, you shift your hand upward to where her bare thigh meets the edge of her shorts. When she doesn’t protest, you move your hand up further, and then right, resting it just above her clothed pussy. She lets out a soft moan.

“I do,” you croak, your throat suddenly dry. “You could even stay over during the weekends. We’d have the whole place to ourselves.”

A chuckle. You begin rubbing her sex in slow circles. A gasp.

“T-that sounds wonderful,” she mutters wistfully, closing her eyes for a few seconds like she’s picturing it in her mind. “An entire weekend without your annoying father and your needy sister would be… so nice.”

“Are you upset at Dad over something?” you ask.

“Hm?” she blinks. “Oh, no. Not really.”

At your disbelieving stare, she continues.

“Okay. Yes, I’m angry at him, but that’s not really any of your business. And it has nothing to do with us.”

“You sure? Because if we’re going to do this, you’ll basically be cheating on him. He must have really pissed you off if you’re okay with that,” you say. “Either that or you don’t love him anymore.”

She breathes another sigh, sagging slightly.

“I’d rather not talk about this, if that’s okay with you. Please.”

Sorry, Mom, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“Please, Mommy, tell me the truth: do you still love Dad or not?”

Her jaw slackens and her eyes glaze over. She blinks a moment later, returning to life, your command absorbed into her wide-open mind.

“I don’t love your father anymore. Sorry sweetie, but that’s the truth,” she replies firmly, with fire in her voice. “In fact, I think I fell out of love with him a long time ago.”

“What went wrong?” you ask.

She sneers, a look of disgust written on her face as subtly as fireworks in the night sky.

“Where do I begin? He doesn’t respect me. He still drinks even though I keep asking him not to. He watches TV all the time and the few times I can get him to actually spend time with me, it seems like we don’t actually talk about anything. It’s infuriating!” She takes a deep breath. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “And another thing! Another thing, he doesn’t even have sex with me anymore. Can you believe that? It’s been years and he doesn’t show his own wife any affection beyond the occasional kiss on the cheek. Meanwhile, he leers at every other woman within eyesight. Even my friends… even my friends have started complaining about it. It’s so humiliating!”

You move your hand back to rub her shoulder. She leans into your touch, almost like she’s **** for a lifeline. Anything to distract her from the life she’s currently living. You move your hand up, around her neck before snaking it into her cleavage. You grab her right tit and start fondling it. She lets out a whispered moan.

“If things are so bad, why haven’t you divorced him?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I was hoping things would get better. Married couples fight all the time before making up. My friends go through stuff like that all the time. But I think this is a lot worse and I don’t see how things could possibly improve at this point. Maybe,” she hiccups. “Maybe I should think about getting a lawyer. What do you think?”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and accepting. So unlike how she usually is, and you feel a simultaneous need to protect her as well as take advantage of the power you hold over her. You also relish the fact that your opinions matter to her now. That you could end up casting the vote that decides the fate of your parents’ marriage. You think most people would want their parents to stay together. You, on the other hand…

“I honestly think you’d be better off if you divorced him. I mean, I love my dad, but he clearly doesn’t respect you at all. I could see you staying with him for the sake of me and Tiff, but we’re adults now. We don’t need our parents to make a stable environment for us anymore. And I’ll support you through it every step of the way.”

Her eyes finally release a few tears. You reach a hand up to wipe them away, and she smiles.

“Thank you. You’re such a sweet, handsome, strong young man. I feel like I can rely on you for anything and you’ll be there for me.”

Still fondling her breast, you smile at her.

“I always will,” you lean closer to her. “No matter what.”

She closes the rest of the distance on her own. Seconds later, her lips meet yours. This isn’t the slow, soft kiss you’d shared in the basement or the brief one you’d had at the mall. No, this is a **** affair, and you can feel her passion in the movement of her soft lips against yours.

You answer her feverish passion with your own, mashing your lips against hers in a **** struggle to connect with her. To make her see how much she matters to you. She answers in turn, and you feel something wet and soft probe at the edge of your lips. You open them, allowing her tongue inside. You push your own tongue past hers, slipping it into her mouth.

She lets out a groan and shifts slightly. Your hand is pulled from her cleavage as she lifts her thick thigh, lowering herself onto your lap. Your erection is pressed against the bottom of her shorts, mere centimeters away from the sweet warmth of the hole that’d given birth to you.

As you kiss, she grinds herself on your lap. There’s desperation in these movements, too. A need to be closer to you. To connect. To feel the love of another human being; something that has for so long been denied to her.

You grasp the bottom of her top and lift it upward.

She breaks the kiss. A string of saliva connects the two of you still, only breaking when she speaks.

“Oh? You want to see my boobs again?”

At your fervent nod, she giggles.

“Of course you do. Well, they’re all yours. I’d never even think of denying them to you.”

She takes over, grabbing the tank top before lifting it over her head. Her huge breasts spill into view. An incredibly mesmerizing sight still even though you’ve seen them multiple times.

She laughs at your expression, the tenor of it so different from her earlier angst. It makes her sound so utterly and irresistibly feminine. She discards the tank top onto your bed. It lands on one of your pillows.

“Mmm,” your hands fly to them almost immediately. She tilts her head backwards and shuts her eyes while you play with them. Soft, pleasured moans escape her lips as you squeeze and prod and juggle them. She lets out a gasp when you tweak her nipples.

Then an idea occurs to you.

Her eyes are still closed, so you pretend that you’re only interested in fondling her breasts. Meanwhile, you move your lips towards them, ultimately deciding to start with her left tit. You open your mouth and seal it over her hard nipple.

“Ah!”

Her eyes shoot open. She looks down at you, surprise dominating her features. She rolls her eyes and chuckles.

“Oh, that feels good. You like that, honey? Suck on your mother’s breasts like you did when you were younger…”

You do just that. You lick. You suckle. Then you move to her other breast and do the same thing. Then you try something different.

“Ouch!” her eyebrows flick upward when you bite her nipple. Softly. You don’t want to hurt her after all. At least, not too much.

You spit the nipple out of your mouth. Your saliva clings to it. She doesn’t bother wiping it off.

“Sorry, Mom.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s okay. Just… just warn me next time, please.”

A smirk spreads across your face.

“I’ll do that.”

Meanwhile, your erection is throbbing. Eager for release. **** for the warmth lingering just out of reach.

“Mommy…”

“What?” she asks. “Is everything alright, baby?”

You lick your lips. Should you tell her? Would she judge you? Would she snap out of whatever daze she’s in and run away from you again? The smart thing to do would be to keep your mouth shut. To wait until you’re certain that she’ll say yes. Or at least invoke her trigger.

No. You don’t want your first time with her to happen because of that. You want her to want it. To feel compelled to experience that sort of thing with you together.

“Yeah, everything’s great. It’s just...”

She grasps the sides of your face with both hands, gently urging you to look at her.

“What is it? You can tell me anything. I won’t get mad. I promise.”

You look downward. She’s still grinding herself against you. She has to have felt your erection by now. It’s as obvious as day.

She follows your eyes and her mouth drifts open.

“Oh,” she whispers so quietly you barely hear her. “Oh.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I-”

“Okay.”

You blink.

“What?” you mutter, **** for her to repeat herself. To prove that you hadn’t just imagined what you thought you heard her say.

“Okay,” she repeats herself, smiling. Like she’s happy. Simply and irrevocably pleased. “But we have to keep quiet.”

When you nod, she leans down and kisses you again. Her earlier **** passion is replaced by something else. Something deeper. A hunger. She brushes her nose against yours, and inhales your scent.

“You smell good,” she mutters.

She lifts herself off the bed and stands in front of you. Without a hint of hesitation, she grasps the hem of her shorts and pulls them downward in one swift motion, revealing a pair of thin white panties. She stops for a moment, watching you watch her. Then she takes the panties off, too, revealing her bare pussy.

You swallow.

It’s cute. Framed by a small tuft of pubic hair. Her lower lips are wet. She’s aroused.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

She beams at you.

“Thanks. Let me get settled real quick.”

You make room for her, allowing her to lie down on your bed. Her head is propped up by your pillow.

She lifts her knees, spreading her legs for you. You stare at her unobstructed sex as well as a hint of the rosebud of her anus. This feels more intimate somehow than you’d been with Sharon, Angela, or Marissa. It’s like there’s very real meaning here. What you do now will have serious ramifications for both your lives for years to come.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just realized I don’t have any condoms.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind. My doctor says at this stage it’s unlikely that I’ll ever have children again. So if you’re worried about getting me pregnant, don’t.”

Unlikely, but not impossible? You can live with that.

“I’m not worried about that,” you smile at her, hoping she catches on to your meaning. Her wide eyes tell you she does. You undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. Your erection springs free, and your mother’s eyes grow ever wider.

“Have you ever done this before?” she asks as you settle between her magnificently thick thighs. Your cockhead nudges your bedsheet mere inches away from your mother’s pussy.

“A couple times.”

She nods ambivalently.

“What about you?” you ask.

She snorts. She looks you up and down.

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say I’ve done this a few times. Now stop stalling. Are you going to make love to me or not?”

As if you’d ever say no to that.

Instead of replying, you grasp your manhood and press it against her vagina. She gasps. She’s so warm and wet. Like a gentle furnace.

You push.

The head of your cock disappears inside her scalding pussy. She whimpers, tightening herself around you.

“Oh god,” she mutters, and draws a heaving breath. Her huge tits wobble enticingly.

Further.

Another inch inside her. Fuck, she’s so tight. Unbelievably so. How is it possible this woman gave birth to two kids?

“Holy shit,” you gasp.

“More,” she whispers.

You give her more, sliding further inside her. Her tight passageway clamps down and clenches around you all the way. A moment later, you run into something. A fleshy barrier. Her cervix.

She hisses in pain, gripping your bedsheets.

“Are you okay?”

She nods after a few moments.

“Keep going baby. Please. I need this.”

So you do.

You quickly develop a rhythm, sliding in and partially out of her incredibly wet, tight, hot pussy. She grabs your bedsheets like she’s holding on for dear life, moaning and whimpering as you repeatedly sheath yourself inside her.

There’s a wicked gleam in her eyes now. You know why. You’ve committed a terrible sin. A major taboo. You’ve broken the law with her. Crossed the Rubicon. You can’t take any of this back. For the rest of your lives, the both of you will be guilty of ****. Forever branded by this act of immorality.

You love it, and from the expression on her face, she does too.

Minutes later, you’re leaning over her. Her legs are wrapped around your hips, urging you inside her. Her beautiful auburn hair is tousled and slick with sweat. She doesn’t seem to mind, moving a hand behind your neck to bring you within kissing distance.

You don’t know how long you spend fucking her. It could have been minutes, hours. It doesn’t matter. Eventually, she shudders in orgasm. Her face lights up after that, taking on a glow you’ve never seen there before.

It’s the sight of her consumed in pleasure that finally pushes you over the edge.

Your erection twitches inside her and then releases, bathing her insides with your hot, milky ejaculate.

“That’s right, baby. Cum inside me. Cum inside your mother.”

After the final spurt leaves you, and you’ve stuffed her pussy full of your cum, you slide off of her.

She stays with you, surprisingly, keeping you inside her and letting her body rest atop yours. Her massive tits are squished pleasantly against your chest.

She stares into your eyes, utter warmth radiating from her. She looks happy. Complete.

You groan.

“What is it?” her features take on a concerned look.

“I think I’m going to need another shower.”

She bursts out laughing.

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