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Janet removed a thin layer of dust from the top of her son’s dresser with a flick of her wrist. Her feather duster deftly traced around a high school track trophy and a stack of college application papers, the latter long since copied, mailed off and returned.
Evan was gifted with intelligence in addition to athleticism and while his mother was brimming with pride at his acceptance of an offer from a prestigious university complete with a scholarship, her heart ached throughout his departure. He had only been gone for a few months but to Janet, he might as well have backed his car out of the driveway and drove through the horizon yesterday.
As she finished up the countertop and gave a quick once-over along the sides, her eyes came to linger on the final decoration: a picture of the both of them after one of Evan’s track meets just after his 18th birthday. He was the picture of health and male virility, at least as any young man that age could be. His lean and toned body, still bearing a sheen from the event’s grueling workout, was visible outside of the limits of his uniform. Janet herself couldn’t have been prouder of her boy; she wore a smile from ear to ear and her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders. She was confident that whatever team he happened to find himself playing on at school would find a competent player in him.
Life was difficult for them both since his father left four years ago. Actually, it would be more correct to say after Janet kicked Tom out at the discovery of his affair with one of his coworkers. She knew the task of raising Evan would fall on her shoulders alone as a result, but she refused to stand for that kind of behavior from her former husband and gladly accepted her resulting task.
Luckily for her, Evan proved to be much more manageable than the average hell-raiser teenage boys become for a while. He was respectful, considerate of others, and balanced his studies and sports obligations surprisingly well on top of his physical attractiveness. As far as Janet was concerned, he was twice the man his father was. She was confident that he would make a woman very, very happy someday.
Despite her misgivings towards Tom, Janet was a lonely woman these days. She hadn’t dated since the divorce, not out of any respect for the man’s legacy but mainly for Evan’s sake. She was wary of bringing a potential father figure around him and she didn’t need a relationship keeping her from her duties as his mother. While she remained confident in her decision, her and Tom had enjoyed a healthy sex life until the split, and her pussy ached whenever she looked back on those times. Janet’s healthy collection of dildos and other toys bridged the gap slightly, but as every woman knew, there was no substitute for a warm, thick cock between her legs.
So why do I feel this way whenever I look at pictures of my son?
Evan resembled his father strongly, Janet admitted. They shared the same light brown hair and raised cheekbones, and to her delight Tom managed to pass down his sense of humor. She hadn’t seen many pictures of him when he was his son’s age, but she would be willing to bet they looked far more alike than not.
Content with this rationalization, Janet’s loins began to dampen. Oh, how she missed a man in the home. Every day she would lay on her bed and pull out one of her toys from her underwear drawer, but even with her substantial amount, the sessions tended to get a bit repetitive. She’d change it up on occasion to alleviate the boredom, such as switching from her toys to a showerhead to a hairbrush and back again. In one particularly daring incident she explored an alternative use for her cihangir escort car’s manual gear shift.
Despite her induced variety, as noted before, it couldn’t replace Tom. She missed him. She missed his clothes thrown next to the bed when he would hop in with her. She missed his girthy member waiting for her. She missed his scent whenever he would remove his shirt and pants.
It was not entirely unlike the smells she encountered when she would come into Evan’s room when he lived at home. To her bewilderment and shock, this only made her wetter.
God’s sake, he’s my SON! I shouldn’t…no, I CAN’T think of him that way! Janet tried to push the thought out of her mind. Tom was the man she missed and hungered for, not her boy, despite the strong resemblance between the two.
Yet while Tom had proved himself to be a poor husband by betraying her trust and her love, Evan had exhibited none of those traits. While it’s true he did break up with his girlfriend before he went off to college, it was because he was smart enough to realize when a good thing had reached its end. They left on mutual terms, at least from Janet’s perspective. Janet liked Kat. She was a cute young thing, 18 as well, sharing mutual interests with her boyfriend and on more than one occasion, Janet had provided a safe, controlled space for the two of them to explore their passion and bodies together.
Lucky girl. But why was Kat so lucky? Because she had found a good man in Evan to judge successive boyfriends against, or because she got to experience what he was like in bed?
Janet didn’t particularly want to dwell on the subject, but it had come time to explore and get a hold of her feelings. Mothers shouldn’t be aroused by anything concerning their offspring, regardless of how closely they resembled their fathers. In fact, she was pretty sure biologically it couldn’t even happen-she read something about it in a magazine a while ago.
But yet I still feel these things.
She couldn’t ignore the increasing wetness between her thighs and the flushing of her face. It wasn’t exactly the first time Janet had felt similar stirrings when thinking about Evan in some ways, but they had never reached this level of intensity or pointedness before. In fact, even thinking about his used jerseys piled up in a corner, drenched with his sweat and odor got her tingling. She couldn’t deny it anymore; her attraction to her son wasn’t simply a function of remnant longings for Tom. It also didn’t help that Janet had a thing for college-aged guys, ever since she started becoming “too old for them” by society’s standards.
God, I’m an awful mother. A wave of disgust passed over her as she settled on the realization. How could things have gotten this bad? Was this something other mothers in my situation faced and just didn’t talk about? The thoughts raced for her mind as she struggled to process herself. This isn’t just some kink for younger guys, this is full-blown incest.
Janet sat down on Evan’s bed. She had left his room in the same condition as when he left; it served as a constant reminder of that little piece of her spreading his wings and making his way in the world.
As her head lay on his pillow, her thoughts couldn’t help but drift towards the countless times Evan must have played with himself on those very same sheets, even until the day he moved out. He was a typical teenage boy, chock-full of hormones and even when he was an adult, she knew from the constant closed door and musty scent that always seemed to linger that he never slowed down.
It was thoughts of this same scent that inspired esenyurt escort Janet to unbutton her blouse.
‘Lord, it’s hot in here,’ she quietly muttered to herself, soothing her conscience with a half-assed justification. Her nipples peeked out from the edge of the garment; she almost never wore a bra around the house. The fact that she was wearing even a blouse was unusual; oftentimes she walked around the house topless. While Janet’s rack wasn’t quite large enough to need constant support, its firmness more than made up for it. ‘I should probably kick the A/C on.’
Despite her comfortability and preference for nakedness, when she maintained her son’s room she always remained clothed. Janet framed it through respect and decency, but in the wake of her current mindset, she couldn’t help but ask herself if it was possibly defensiveness towards her burgeoning feelings for him. It was just so easy to tweak a nipple or give her pussy a quick rub elsewhere in the house, who knows what she might do while surrounded with these catalysts without any barriers to dissuade her?
Probably the same thing I’m doing now, as a hand cupped her left tit. There’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just resting my hand. Janet stared at Evan’s ceiling. How many times had her son lay in the same spot she was, with his hand down his pants and visions of pretty girls in his class filling his dreams? She was sure she couldn’t count.
How many times did he fantasize about groping a thick, full breast? She subconsciously gave herself a quick squeeze. Janet hadn’t quite devolved to the point where she was envisioning her son teasing her, yet the man in her mind wasn’t exactly Tom either. In all reality, how many times did he give it to his girlfriend in here? Putting that pretty little thing on her knees?
Janet was an attractive woman, especially for one in her mid-forties and in her honest opinion, no teenager had anything on her, at least not when you included the experience she brought to the bedroom. She wasn’t exactly envious of Evan’s girl, at least not concerning her body or youth. At least someone’s getting dicked in this house.
A light grope turned into a deeper squeeze. Janet folded her blouse up to expose her plain white panties.
No, I can’t go any farther. I can’t disrespect my son by doing this in his room. She removed her hand from her chest and sat up. On the wall across from her at eye level hung a framed copy of Evan’s first paycheck from his job at the local burger joint. Janet sighed as it reminded her that her little boy was a young man now. He had grown up to be strong, kind, and admittedly very attractive.
Well, it’s not really disrespect, shit, he did it countless times in here under the roof I pay for. It’s all mine to begin with.
She returned to her previous spot and removed her blouse completely. It’s just an empty room. It’s not like he’s in here watching me.
Janet’s sense of decency instantly regretted putting that image in her head. Her panties were now absolutely soaked and her nipples began to stiffen. She always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her, but imagining Evan in here watching her strip down was almost too much. Almost.
I wonder what he would think of my body, how it compares to Kat’s? Janet carried a bit of extra weight as most women her age did, but she carried it well, and in general she liked what she saw as she looked in the mirror every morning. Besides, most of the weight was where it counted and she retained the curves from her youth. Tom certainly appreciated her. Even after she had Evan, it certainly didn’t etiler escort bayan stop him from running his hands all over her and moaning over how tight she was when he would take her.
While this bout of curiosity was unlike Janet, it didn’t take long for her to regain her confidence. She was young once too, and retained enough memories from those days to remember just how clueless young people usually are about sex, both men and women. She may be pretty and young, but trust me, she doesn’t know shit about how to handle a dick. Good girls like that never do. Janet ran three of her fingers down her chest and brushed the top of her panties. To be fair, neither does Evan. The things I could teach a boy his age…
She barely noticed as her fingertips broached her underwear, teasing the hair directly underneath. Her other hand returned to her tit, twirling her hard nipple softly. In perverse pleasure, the sensation brought her back to a time when she used to breastfeed Evan. In a slip of her mental guard, the picture of her grown son suckling at her breast suddenly filled her mind. Before she could push it out, Janet saw Evan’s strong face with his eyes closed pulling on her as he had so long ago, craving his mother’s milk and warmth.
The thought overtook her. This was so wrong and yet so…titillating. She gasped as her fingers rested on her clit, warm and thick with arousal. She shouldn’t be thinking about this at all. It didn’t matter how hot or cute Evan was, she was his mother.
Oh God, that’s why it makes this so…hot.
Janet couldn’t deny herself anymore and indulged herself in her dark fantasy. She shuddered as her fingers slipped inside her. She wanted to provide for him not just as his mother, but as a woman. Janet could teach her son everything about how to please a woman and how to use that cock he had, that rod that she was sure he inherited from Tom.
Her hand squeezed her tit and rolled her nipple in rhythm with her vag. She was actually doing it. Janet was getting herself off not only in her son’s room, but in his own bed. As she inhaled deeply, she envisioned a trace of her son’s musk entering her nostrils.
‘Evannnn…’ she trailed off, stroking herself harder. She pretended to see his hard, naked body standing before her at the bed, proudly exhibiting the vigor of youth and the contribution of his father’s handsome genes. But she didn’t want Tom anymore. Janet focused on his hot, rigid adult cock, no longer the miniscule organ of the child she used to bathe and change. ‘Come to your mother,’ she breathed.
That was it. She had stopped trying to resist these thoughts and allowed the incestuous dream to take her. Janet needed her son’s love, simultaneously as her boy and as her man. Her mouth hung open as waves of pleasure wormed their way from her pussy up through her body.
‘I love you so much, Evan!’ Janet moaned and pulsed as she came. Her fantasy reverted to Evan suckling from her as she played with him, feeling his hard and stiff manhood. ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop…please…’ her voice trailed off until she lost herself in her deranged, forbidden bliss.
A few moments had passed until Janet opened her eyes. Her orgasm was so intense she had to catch her breath. The vivid pictures were gone and so were her desires. What remained was simply her and a wet spot on the sheets.
In her newfound clarity she didn’t even want to dwell on what just occurred. It was bad enough she was in a state of mind to remember, she didn’t need to analyze it. Okay, fine. It came and went. That’s it. She sat up on the bed and gathered the bedding to wash.
When Janet was about to walk through the door, her eyes again came to rest on his track meet photo. Gazing upon the two of them, Janet’s hostility ebbed slightly. She didn’t need analysis. It was a harmless fantasy; it didn’t mean that she was a bad mother, or broken, or anything. Janet took the photo in her hand, studied it for a few seconds and returned it. “I love you, son.”
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