By D.M
I have finally decided to share my recent experiences with my wonderful 20-year-old son Ajit. I divorced Ajit's father 8 years ago and have no other children, remain a single mother. I'm 40 years old. One thing I keep thinking about Tom: I carried him in my body for 9 months, and he needed me then. I nursed him at my breasts and he needed me then. I raised him from a tot to strapping manhood, and he needed me all through that. And now he is a wonderful young man, but he has raging sex hormones and often no convenient release for them -- and so I think he may need his mom again for such a purpose, I don't care what society says about it.
And I need him too, need his hands on me, need his kisses, need the feeling of being one with him. I went for years without knowing what a sexual climax was or could be. Now I know. So let me fill you in on what happened with Ajit and I. A year ago if someone had told me I would be sleeping with my son, I would have reacted with shock and horror. Incest! The Big Taboo! How dare I lust for my son! Don't I know I could cripple him emotionally forever, etc. etc. and on into the night. But in the meantime I'm so delirious with a sense of happiness, well-being, and fulfillment that I have to say to myself, this CAN'T be wrong.
I have a sense that this is what sex is really supposed to be. I have never felt so erotic, so utterly wanton before. My son is an excellent artist. He has often shown me some of his nudes, copied from other illustrations, and that activity of his has never alarmed me -- indeed, I've encouraged it. What started all this, I guess, was my discovery on his desk of some nude drawings of (obviously) myself -- showing everything! -- that he had copied from snapshots of me (in which I was well clothed), all piled neatly there with his drawings -- as if he wanted me to find them.
One drawing certainly not taken from a snapshot shows me kneeling nude with his erect penis in my mouth. Well, I confronted him about the drawings, and that's when he told me -- so gently and sweetly -- that he had been dreaming a lot about me lately, and that he wanted to come to my bedroom soon and have intercourse with me. Well, I'm afraid I blew up at him, really tore into him. Later I was so ashamed of myself for doing this, realizing that the idea of it in fact rather turned me on and I didn't want to admit it, most of all to myself.
It didn't take me long to see this, and I did apologize to him for my outburst. But I still couldn't bring myself to respond in any way to his proposition, and we sort of avoided each other's eyes for a week or so. Yet I couldn't quit thinking about it. I did something silly -- I found a white handkerchief in the laundry with (I'm pretty sure) his semen stains on it from masturbation -- and I wore it under my panties for a couple days. Does that tell you anything? And then one day he emerged from his room without a shirt on.
Looking at his muscular chest and arms, I felt a definite physical surge, had to sit down my legs felt so shaky. Around him I felt damp and squirmy, my nipples itched, I was a basket case. Two decades ago, O kept thinking, I nursed my baby boy, and now the thought of him entering my body as a lover stirred my passions like they hadn't been stirred in years. And yet, I thought, I didn't want to be JUST a sexual partner for him -- I am his mother and wanted to continue being that -- and could I be a real mother to him and also share myself most intimately and passionately with him.
That was my quandary, and still is to some degree. I had the very tense feeling that something was imminent with Ajit and I. One night he came home late and we started teasing and joking in the kitchen. What started out as a little playful shoving back and forth ended up in some very intense kisses and embraces against the refrigerator. I had certainly never behaved this way with my son before, nor he with me. His hands were pretty much all over me. I finally broke away and somewhat flustered said "stop it!" or something like that, and I fled to my bedroom -- where I tossed and turned most of the night.
We had come very close. I had felt his erection through his pants, and I had become very wet myself. It seemed ridiculous, this teasing each other. And probably cruel to him and masochistic of me. But maybe it was sort of necessary for us, I don't know. I felt like a teen-ager about to give up my virginity! I just melted when he stood near me (literally, down my thighs!). The next morning we avoided each other. But hardly a moment passed that day when I wasn't thinking of us locked as tightly together as a man and woman can be.
Well, it finally happened last New Year's Day, in my bed. We were stuck in the house all day because of the heavy snows here. One thing led to another -- and we did it. I have to say that I had never experienced such an intensity of physical pleasure in my entire life. I didn't know orgasms could be so powerful! He felt enormous in me. After the first minute or so, I absolutely went ballistic, lost it entirely, screaming, sobbing, the whole bit.
Poor Ajit didn't know what he'd turned on. Well, since that night, we have indeed become lovers, and each time is so wildly exciting to both of us that sometimes I'm not sure I can take any more. Soon we did oral sex, for the first time in my life! Ajit ejaculated in my mouth and all over my face, and it was a wonderful act of love for both of us. Once out of the house, we're o.k., normal mom and son. But inside with the curtains drawn, I turn into wild woman with my son, blushing as she says so.