A New Life With My Son 1

What I'm about to tell you now is not a mere tale. It's the outpouring of a woman torn between love and guilt, pleasure and remorse. Everything is 100% real, and my decision to write is above all an attempt to alleviate the feelings that oppress me. Since I don't want to omit any facts, I'll divide my confession into chapters. My name is Sonia, and I'm 42 years old. I consider myself a beautiful woman, both in face and body. I got married at 23 to a man I thought could be my partner for life. Soon after I got married, I became pregnant and that's when my son, André, was born. I had serious complications during childbirth, and I was told that I couldn't have any more children. Perhaps because of this, André and I became very close. When he was in his teens, there was a turning point that changed our lives: my husband left me for a mistress. We suffered a lot because of it, and my son never forgave his father - to this day he has strained relations. If before we were very close, after that bump we became inseparable. André was always a loving and caring son, as his father was never Time passed, and my son grew up to be a very handsome boy, an athlete, with a beautiful face and the body of a Greek god, and at the age of 19 he entered the college of physical education, and it was shortly after that that surprising events came to shake our lives, and I discovered that desire could be born inside the house. I had been divorced for four years, and in that time I had only had two boyfriends, fleeting and unimportant things, and even though I was still in great shape, I had closed myself off to relationships, and I was living off my work and my child. André used to walk around the house without his shirt on. As beautiful as his body was, I never thought I'd be able to look at him with other eyes. One Sunday I was in the kitchen and André appeared. Always affectionate, he kissed my face and said: - I love you, mother! - I love you too, son! As I turned to kiss him, I noticed that he was wearing his bermuda so low that you could see some of his pubic hair. I don't know if it was the long time without sex, but the fact is that I felt a kind of warmth rising up my body. I thought of sending him up that bermuda, but I felt ashamed. André went to the refrigerator and took out a jar of liquid yogurt, drank it while talking to me about something unimportant, and ended up pouring some on his chest and abdomen, both sculptural. - Careful, boy... look at the dirt. - It was bad, Mom... He passed his finger over his own body, picked up what had fallen, and took it to his mouth. That scene, which to him should have been so innocent, caused a new wave of heat to run through my body. He went out, went to play ball with some friends, and I was alone at home, in my loneliness. But I could not forget what I had seen. I decided to take a shower, thinking that it might calm me down, but the water beating on my body, strangely made the heat rise. I ended up passing my fingers lightly on my clitoris and the contact made me feel a shock wave sweeping my body. I was more confused coming out of the shower than when I entered. In the bedroom, I couldn't resist looking at myself in the mirror. I could see that my shapes were still beautiful. I passed my hand over my breasts. I pushed my butt, which is very tight and whitish. When I realized, I was lying on the bed, remembering my son's body. The image formed in my mind of those dark hairs appearing from his bermuda. The yogurt that he had poured on his body. I thought that instead of letting him clean it with his finger, I could clean it with my mouth. And then, almost without thinking about what I was doing, my hand was even my clitoris. I felt guilt and remorse, but the sexual instinct spoke louder for years. What was a simple touch turned into masturbation. I was enjoying living alone in the house, I was moaning, uninhibited, unafraid. As I stroked my clitoris, I squeezed the beak of one of my breasts. - Fuck... fuck your little mommy... go, you little... eat your mommy! I felt a pleasure I've never had with any man, my body trembled and I enjoyed, I enjoyed imagining my son eating me, I enjoyed so much that my pussy got soaked. After the orgasm, there were those moments of profound peace, and then I fell into reality, and I realized that I had, if only in thought, done something absurd and immoral. When my son came back from soccer, I had already programmed myself to act as naturally as possible. He went to the bathroom, and I hoped very much that he wouldn't notice anything wrong with my behavior. I think I did well. But before I served him dinner, I went to the bathroom and couldn't resist the curiosity to take his underwear out of the laundry basket. It was there, all sweaty, the underwear of someone who played soccer in the heat. I was going to throw the underwear back into the basket, but I couldn't resist and I would smell it. That male smell, which activated both my sexuality and my guilt complex. I swore the same thing that I would never think about it again, that it would stifle my desires. But the events of the next few days would be even more unusual. After that crazy day of masturbating thinking about my son, my head felt like a pressure cooker, and I thought it was absurd, and I couldn't forgive myself, and I tried everything I could to suppress it, but a new fact would set me on a collision course with what I was trying to smother. André, my son, was dating at that time. A girl named Camila, whom I never liked (mother's instinct or jealousy?) He was very much in love with her. It turns out that she cheated on him with another boy and he found out, he was devastated. He cried a lot, became depressed, and I, as a mother, tried to cheer him up. In our conversations he would say things that moved me: A rehearsal by camgirl Aurora - Mom, now I know how you felt when your dad left you for that slut. - Son... you mustn't let yourself get down you will find another woman who deserves you. - Mom, what I really wanted was to find a woman like you! When I heard that, my legs trembled. It was a Sunday night, and I grabbed a sweater that was lying around in the living room to put in the washing machine, and I went to check his pockets to see if he had forgotten anything, and I found a marijuana cigarette. I didn't know what to do, but I decided to talk to him. I went to his room. He was lying in bed, watching TV, all bermuda, no shirt. Seeing that body of a Greek god already made me feel a tremor inside. - Andre, may I come in? You're always welcome here. - What was that I found in your pocket? He lost his sense of humor, but he didn't lie. - Is that a base, Mom? - Are you on drugs? I'm not a drug addict, I only smoke once in a while, you know I'm an athlete, I'm not going to mess up, it's just to relax once in a while. I was impressed by his honesty, because someone else would have lied, made up an excuse, but he was honest. - Son, I'm not gonna hold it against you, I just don't want you to get involved in anything worse. Have you ever smoked pot? In the face of his sincerity, I didn't have the courage to lie. - When I was your age, I smoked a few times, but then I quit. He looked at me with the sweet eyes of someone who really likes a person and asked: - Would you smoke that with me? I was shocked by that invitation. - Andre... is that something to give to your mother? Oh, Mom, you're the person I love most in the world. Hearing him say he loved me was good for my soul, and seeing that beautiful body moved me. I'm not used to it, I'll fall. - Lie down here next to me. I confess that when I lay beside him I felt my vagina pulsing, and to be near that carved, smooth body was too much for anyone. He lit up the base, smoked a little and passed it to me. I went very slowly. The marijuana cigarette changed hands a few times, and I was already feeling a little hurt. I haven't smoked in 20 years, my head is spinning. "Put your head on my chest", he said. Anybody who saw it would think we were two lovers, lying in bed, him shirtless, me with my head resting on that beautiful breast, that strong arm wrapped around my body, and I felt like heaven, it was so good, I must have dozed off. And then I felt something touch my lips, so soft, so sweet that I didn't even want to open my eyes. I felt it again. It was my son's lips touching mine, so softly that I almost didn't feel it. I heard the small click of a kiss. And new kisses followed. Delicate stamps. I felt an impulse to tell him to stop, to say what was wrong, but before I could do anything, I heard him whisper: - I love you very much, Mom. Then I felt his lips touching mine, only now more apart. The tip of his tongue slid down my lips. I trembled, but the call of my body was stronger. Slowly I began to respond to his kisses. My body was on fire, my head was spinning. If I had been sober, smiling, I might have been able to react. But with my head full of marijuana, I had no strength. I felt my son's tongue trying to get into my mouth, and he was kissing so nicely, so gently, and I was still reluctant, and I managed to pull my mouth back a little bit and say, - My son, please. - I just want to make love to you, Mom... It was a kiss, a real kiss, on the mouth, on the tongue, it wasn't a dirty, dirty kiss, it was a sweet, yet extremely erotic kiss. His arms squeezed me against his body. We were in a squeeze. Our tongues were already dancing a ballet in our mouths. He clutched his body more tightly to mine, and I could feel that he was with his hard cock pressed against me. Again I found the strength to say: - Son... we should stop. Mom, look, there's no evil in it, it's just affection, and I just want to make you feel special because I love you so much. He kissed me again, this time with more force. With his hands on my back, he pulled me against his body and I could feel his penis, which I had already imagined to be huge leaning on me. I could feel that in the middle of my legs there was moisture growing. He really sucked my mouth, as if he wanted to swallow me. When he took my mouth from mine, he went to kiss my neck. I ended up releasing a groan that revealed what I was feeling. - I'm going to go with you. "I love you", he would say. The hand that was on my back started to slide. I realized that he was going to put his hand inside my pants to squeeze my butt, that modesty part was always very beautiful. When I felt his fingers trying to get into my buttocks it was as if I had a brutal awakening. I opened my eyes and walked away. We have gone too far! - Mom... I'm not doing this on purpose. I was wide-eyed, like I'd come back to reality. I know, but we have to stop, we're mother and son, please, Andre, let's stop. He looked ashamed, as if he wanted to disappear from my sight. I didn't mean to hurt you. His gaze was so tender and gentle that I felt sorry for him. I know you didn't mean it, but we have to stop here. - Mom, I love you so much. "I love you too, son", I said, gasping, "but I'd better go to my room". I got up from the bed. My heart felt like it was going to come out of my mouth. I wanted to run away, but André called me when I was already at the door of the room. - Mother, please. I looked, and I saw my son, who, though huge, had a fragile, angelic look. - Mom... promise you won't hate me? We just made a mistake. - Then say that you love me. - I love you, son, very much. So I went to my room. I was desperate about what had happened. I cried. When I took off my clothes, I saw that my panties were wet. The remorse consumed me. But at the same time, the desire was huge. A struggle of two feelings. I ended up masturbating, imagining that he was in the next room doing the same thing. I enjoyed it, I enjoyed the horrors of remembering our kiss, and in the moment of orgasm, I almost bit my pillow and whispered, - My son, my son. I ended up falling asleep, smeared with the base I'd smoked, soft with the orgasm I'd reached, consumed between pleasure and guilt. The next day, when I woke up, he'd already gone to college... When I woke up the next day after that kiss, my head was spinning. I couldn't believe what had happened. My son and I had kissed on the mouth and tongue. And he had still rubbed the hard paint on me. Guilt and remorse flooded my soul. Luckily, when I woke up, he had already gone to college. I didn't know how to face him. I cried, but I also remembered how wonderful that mouth was. But what to do when he came home. He didn't come home until late at night, and we were both paralyzed, not knowing what to say. A rehearsal by camgirl Aurora - Hi, mom. - How are you? - Hi, son. - How are you? - What's up? - All of it. The conversation didn't progress. I didn't have the courage to bring it up, nor did he. And for almost a week it was like this. Embarrassment, lack of courage, inconvenience. During the day he was out and I cried desperately, thinking that I had destroyed the most important thing in my life, my relationship with my son. I even avoided staying in the room, preferring to hide in my room. Until one day he took the initiative and looked for me, when I was already in bed. - Mom... we need to talk. He came over and laid on my bed next to me. - Why are you so dismissive, Mom? I will never despise you! It's because of what happened that day, isn't it? I had to hold myself back from crying in front of him. Son, what we did was wrong, but I'm willing to let it go. - But I'm not, mother. I felt a chill running down my spine. - Why is it wrong for a son to show love for his mother? - Andre, you know that's not how you show love for your own mother! "Didn't you like what happened?" he asked, and drew his face closer to mine. - I told you it was wrong. I didn't ask if it was wrong, I asked if you didn't like it, if you thought it was bad. I felt trapped. How could I say that I "found it bad" if I returned the kiss, even groaned? I was left without an answer. He continued the siege: "Well, I want you to know one thing, Mom: I don't regret it. Because that was the best kiss I've ever given in my life. Because I know that the woman I kissed is the only one who really loves me. And vice versa. It was for love. Talking like that, he shook me, melted me, stirred with my deficiencies, not only sexual, but affective. It's against nature! When you kissed that parasite of my father it wasn't a sin and he betrayed you when I kissed that whore of my girlfriend it wasn't a sin and she screwed me now you want to convince me that our kiss was a sin? He knew how to leave me without an answer, he came closer, he ran his hand through my hair, my heart shot like it was going to come out of his mouth. Mom, as much as you think it's wrong, I know what I felt coming from you that night, I felt your body respond, I felt your soul, and I love you more and more. And then her beautiful mouth came closer, and we kissed, and the first time we were high from sharing a marijuana cigarette, but this time we were sober, and yet I had no way to react, that mouth, that body squeezing me, those arms wrapped around me, it all had the same effect of a drug. At first I even tried to close my lips, but the resistance didn't last long. Her warm, moist tongue invaded my mouth. I never felt such an intense kiss. We stayed for a long time with our mouths glued together. I wanted to stop it, but I didn't have the courage. There was no reaction. Until I felt his hand trying to get under my shirt. Only then could I stop that kiss. - No, Andre, do not do this to me. It didn't help. His strong yet gentle hand landed on my left breast. He didn't squeeze like a brute. On the contrary... he gently touched and with his fingers stroked the beak of my breast, which was already numb with excitement. When I tried to say something his response was to silence me with his kiss. For a few minutes I felt the pleasure of being kissed and having my breast caressed. Remorse and pleasure fighting against each other. Until he took his hand from my breast. I thought I had beaten him with regret, but his hand began to pass through my belly and I noticed what he was going to do. It did not take long for his hand to go down. My reaction was shock: "No, son, no, for God's sake!" I exclaimed and held his wrist tightly. I just want to feel you. I just want to caress you. - No, that doesn't... I was holding on, but he was pushing, and his fingers went through the elastic band of the sweatpants I was wearing, through my panties, and I tried one last request: - What is it? - I love you, mother. Her fingers touched my hair, and they went further, until they touched my clitoris, and my reaction was a groan, almost a scream: - Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh..... I couldn't hold his wrist any longer, his fingers touched my handrail, they slid in a way that didn't allow me to disguise how wet I was, and he began to masturbate me with incredible skill, making precise, smooth, circular movements, and he joined his body to mine, and I could feel his hard stick against my hip, and he whispered in my ear, - I love you, my darling... what a boner... it's wet... I love you very much, mother! He accelerated the movements in my clitoris and I groaned uncontrollably, and Andre, showing that he was a fantastic lover despite his young age, licked my neck, stuck his tongue in my ear and whispered: - Have a good time, Mom. Have a good time. The only things I could mumble were: - I'm going to... And I enjoyed... I enjoyed horrors like I'd never enjoyed before, and it was so hard that I squeezed my legs with his hand in the middle, and he tried to kiss me, but I almost fainted, and it took me a while to get my breathing back on track, and it was a crazy orgasm. When I could finally open my eyes, I saw my son's beautiful face looking at me, smiling. I love you so much. After pleasure always comes regret, guilt, anger at having given in. - Son... for the love of God... what is happening to you... with us? Mom, it's wrong not to love, you've had fun, you've felt pleasure, and so have I. He said that, and he rubbed his stick hard on me, and I felt like if I didn't pull the brakes, he was gonna want to eat me. - Andre, please... go to your room. I want to sleep here with you, to protect you. He could be crazy, but he would say such romantic things that would rock me. - Let me sleep here with you. I promise I just want to sleep hugged. I should have refused, but the longing I felt, coupled with my son's sweetness, prevented me from rejecting him. - If you sleep here, promise you won't try anything? I swear. So you're gonna sleep in that bermuda and I'm not gonna take my pants off, and if you try anything, I swear to God, I'm gonna turn into a beast. - I promise, mother, I swear. He turned out the light and leaned over behind me, and we stood in silence, and even though I was filled with guilt, I admit that I felt incredibly protected by his embrace, because he hadn't mocked, of course, his hard cock, but he didn't even rub it, a "respectful" son. He kissed me on the back of the head and said: I love you, Mom. I love you more than anything. We fell asleep, and I slept so protected, so nestled, that I was able to let go of the guilt.