Reckless Love
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Reckless Abandon free porn video
Part I
I’m Sara.
I'm about to turn 50, and all this began about a year-and-a-half ago. My husband, Sam, is 50, and we've been married for 25 years. Given that it’s consumed half my life, all in all, it's been a good marriage.
Sam and I have two kids: my son Eric, who is now 21, a little 11-year-old girl named Emma.
As we got older, sex with Sam became more sporadic and, frankly, less satisfying, as I imagine it does for most couples. But in the fall of 2013, he had an accident that put him totally out of commission for several months.
Do I blame what happened on the fact that Sam and I didn’t have sex for a few months? I can’t really say that - I’d been unfaithful before. But did a lack of sex drive me to the ultimate act of infidelity? It’s possible.
I go to one or two conferences a year related to my work. On more than a few occasions I’ve found myself flirting - and more - with men. I told myself it wasn’t completely sinful because I rarely went “all the way.” There was oral, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, and tons of petting and touching, but no penetration.
Nearly all of these “sexy time partners” have been guys around my age. I’ve almost exclusively played around with married men so that everybody is on the same page. This is strictly about short-term fun - no falling in love, no phone calls at home, no meeting in between trips out of town. If we end up at the same conference next year, maybe we do it again, but no promises.
The fall of Sam’s accident, I went to a four-day conference across the country. The first night, a college kid at the hotel bar was flirting with me. Again, I usually stuck to older married professional types, but this kid kept me interested, and I found myself flirting right back. Before I knew it, he had his hand on my thigh, and I didn't stop him. I was horny as hell, and finally, I just looked at him and said, "Do want to fuck me?"
It floored him. He actually sputtered. I laughed, then took his hand and pushed it under my skirt so he could feel the heat coming from between my legs. I looked him dead in the eye and said, “I'm not kidding."
He kissed me in the elevator, and I reached down to touch him through his jeans. He was rock hard and seemed thick, and I’d already made up my mind that tonight would be one of those times the “no penetration” rule didn’t apply.
We were all over each other before the door to my room was fully closed. I pulled his t-shirt over his head and pushed him back onto the bed. Straddling him, I leaned down to kiss him again, running my hands over his smooth chest. He grabbed my ass roughly, and I ground down on his cock, my skirt already riding up nearly to my waist.
I broke our kiss long enough to lean up and make a big show of unbuttoning my blouse, removing it, then slowly taking off my bra as he watched. When it was fully off, he almost seemed to growl, ran his hands up my body to grope at my tits, and leaned up to kiss and suck my nipples. I reached behind me to fiddle with his jeans, but couldn’t get a good grip on the zipper. Finally, he bucked his hips, flipped me over, and began to dry hump me. My pussy was on fire, and when he finally unsnapped his pants and fished out his cock, I lifted my feet to try and push them off him. I was too clumsy to do it properly, and we both laughed as he shoved his pants and his underwear down, and a beautiful, thick cock came into view.
Now he was totally naked, but I still had on a skirt and panties. I told him to undress me, and he did it slowly while kissing my nipples, my tummy, the tops of my thighs. As young as he was, he was still damn good at this, and when he had me naked at last, I was soaked. I finally grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face into my pussy.
It was glorious, and that’s when IT happened. He was lapping at me expertly, and he looked up at me with a goofy-ass grin on his face.
With his mussed dark hair, his blue eyes, and that goofy-ass grin, he looked so much like my son Eric that my heart skipped a beat. He immediately buried his face back into my pussy, and I came with a vengeance.
I could spend a whole lot of time telling you about how he fucked me, but I know that’s not really the story you’re here for, is it? You want to hear how I got from that night until that weekend when Eric finally took me; when I became an incest whore.
And you’re just going to have to wait.
Author’s Note
And so it began. Sara would always leave me like this. She’d build me up, then say she needed to go home for the day. Sometimes I get a brief message from her that night, just a hello. Sometime she’d pick right up where she left off the very next day. And sometimes she’d disappear for a week or more. That led me to believe that she might not be telling me a true tale at all, that she wasn’t a mother fucking her son at all, but that she was a middle-aged guy in a basement, jerking off as much as while writing as I was while reading. But, God, did I love it when she came back to tell me more. This time, she kept me waiting for three days, and then she just started writing as if it had been five minutes between messages.
Part II
Eric and I have always been close. I kid him that he's a momma's boy. He’s not clingy and strange as that label may imply, but rather affectionate and loving with me. He's very handsome, and I don’t just say that because I’m the mother he’d like to fuck.
Eric has always had girlfriends around, and they are invariably the sexy, popular girls. Truth be told, he’s a cocky little bastard about the girls he dates, and I didn't fool myself that he was still a virgin at 19. He came home disheveled and glowing often enough for me to recognize the look of a young guy who’d been fucking in the backseat of a car somewhere.
Truth be told, Eric was always a flirt, and he was not hesitant to flirt with me. As he got older, I enjoyed it more, and I was equally flirty with him. It all seemed fun and perfectly harmless, and even my husband would joke about it.
I should add that when I was in high school, I had a bit of a crush on my older brother. When I look back, I realize that Eric is a lot like him at that age - cocky, confident, good looking. As we got older, my brother was checking me out, and I was checking him out, and there was a definite sexual tension in the air. I won't go into a lot of details about that, and we never had sex, but I will say that we ended up “fooling around” a bit.
Having had that relationship, I was always turned on by the incest fantasy, and I was a dirty girl. Back in the 1980s, it wasn't easy for a girl to find stimulating masturbation material after I found out how boring the bodice rippers my mom read were. My brother introduced me to dirty pulp books published by a company called Beeline. I’ve always liked my porn more literary than visual, and I devoured those books when I could get my hands on them. Of course, I was too embarrassed to buy them myself, and when my brother left for college and took his collection with him, I became an adept little shoplifter to feed my fantasies.
There was more incest than you'd think in those little paperbacks. Most of it, of course, was written by men for men, and most of the stories I pilfered were of brothers and sisters. In order of popularity, it seemed it was brother/sister, followed by mothers and sons. Again, I think that’s because I’m sure the vast majority of those books were written by men. Every boy dreams of fucking his mother at some point in his life, right? And sisters are such a nearby, more available form of fantasy. In my experience, men seem less inclined to sexualize daughters and daughter-figures, although you horny bastards surely wouldn’t mind fucking any other nubile 18-year-old, would you?
Anyway, that’s a long way of saying taboo thoughts and incest have turned me on nearly as long as I can remember, so when the internet came along and I discovered Literotica, I was enthralled. Stories of brothers and sisters would make me cum harder and faster than anything else I read on the site, and I was constantly looking for new tales. I was never attracted to my own father (although I did often rub myself while listening to him and mom go at it some nights), and the concept of mothers and sons was just alien to me back then.
I do remember the first mother-son story I read. It was called “Built for One Thing” and after that, I was hooked. I fucked myself silly so many times to that story!
So - did I fuck that college kid instead of one of the other guys my age I’d fooled around with but never gone all the way because of some subconscious desire to explore that fantasy? Did it turn me on so much because I was already attracted to Eric in a completely inappropriate way?
It’s possible.
But whether the desire was there before that work trip, or if fucking a college kid was the proximate cause, things got even flirtier with my son and continued to escalate over the next several months.
By the time all this started, Eric was out of high school but still living at home. The plan was for him to attend a local community college for two years before transferring to his out-of-state dream. This left a lot more time in his schedule than in high school, and most of his classes were downtown near where my husband and I both work. The three of us would meet up for lunch a few times a week, and Eric would often stop by my office to visit. The younger ladies in the office - and plenty of the ones my age and older - were always happy to see him, and the little shit made it a point to flirt with all of them shamelessly.
Some days he and I would have lunch alone, and those came to be the days I liked best. We talked and talked about everything, and we’d end up touching a lot. Our knees would touch under the table; I’d reach over to stroke his arm while telling a story; he’d put his arm up on the back of a park bench we might be sharing, and he’d gently brush his fingers on the back of my neck. It was exactly the kind of touching you’d be doing with someone you were flirting with - or trying to seduce.
Gradually, our hugs were tighter, and they lasted a lot longer. I started making excuses about not being able to meet my husband for lunch, and Eric and I would drive somewhere across town instead of walking to the places we’d usually go, so we could avoid running into my husband or other people we knew. I don’t think either of us planned it that way. We just naturally fell into finding more and more time to be together. It just became something special just for us, with a rhyme and a reason all its own.
Ever since he was a little boy, I’d go into Eric’s room to say goodnight and give him a kiss on the forehead or cheek. It was something natural, something he expected, and it didn’t stop just because he was no longer a little kid. But as this unacknowledged flirting got more intense, our nightly ritual did, too.
Eric would usually already be in bed under the covers when I’d come in. I’d stand in the doorway, and we’d chat a bit about our day or plans for tomorrow or whatever book he was reading. After a few minutes, I’d walk over to the bed, lean down and kiss him on his forehead, usually with a “Goodnite, kiddo,” thrown in.
First our nightly chats got a little longer. Before long, I was standing inside the door as we talked. A few weeks after that, I began sitting on the edge of his bed before leaning over to kiss him goodnight. I started letting my robe fall open, hoping he would look at me, or I’d go in without my robe and just a gown that would ride up my creamy thighs.
Eric began to alter his habits as well for these nightly excursions. He started laying on top of the covers, not underneath them. In a tight t-shirt and thin running shorts, I could clearly see the outline of his cock. At some point, he stopped wearing the shirt at all, and I was without the robe more and more, and my hand might brush his chest when I kissed him. I started kissing him on the cheek like I’d done when he was a boy instead of on the forehead as I did when he became a teen. Those kisses lingered more, and moved closer to his mouth.
One night I went in wearing a tank top that I usually only wore to the gym. My breasts aren’t huge, but I have nice cleavage, and it was definitely on display in this. My nipples were hard, and I bent over to kiss him on his cheek and briefly touched his chest. Again, my touch and the kiss lingered a little longer than usual.
A couple of nights later, I got even bolder. I put on one of my husband's undershirts that is much looser on me. With no bra, I knew that when I leaned over, I’d be giving him a full view of my breasts.
When I leaned in, I steadied my hand on his smooth, warm chest. I felt the neckline of the shirt fall open. My nipples were like pebbles, and he took a good long look. I brushed my lips against his cheek, pulled back, did it again. I ventured toward the corner of his mouth, and when I finally stood up, I glanced down and saw his cock straining against the thin fabric of his shorts.
Author’s Note
This time it was six weeks before I heard from Sara again, and just like last time, a message just popped up unexpectedly, continuing the narrative as if she’d never left off.
Part III
One night, the family met for dinner at a local Italian place. We sat in a booth, with my daughter and I sharing one side, while Eric sat directly across from me next to his dad. Even though we weren’t alone, I did something I’d started doing on our lunches together. I slipped off my shoe and rubbed it against his foot and calf.
When my husband got up and went to the men's room, I got even bolder, raising my foot and placing it on his knee. I’d never even gone that far when we were alone, much less with other family members around, but something compelled me to push it. Eric responded by reaching down to grasp my stockinged foot, rubbing his thumb over the sole while looking right in my eyes. When my husband returned, I quickly dropped my foot and slipped my shoe back on while Eric and I shared a secret smile. That night I didn’t go into his room to say goodnight, because I was too afraid of what I might do.
A couple of weeks later on a Friday, my husband made plans to have drinks with buddies after work. My youngest was with parents, so I texted Eric to see if he wanted to have dinner together at the same place. My heart fluttered as it felt like I was making a date.
It was a wonderful night. The flirting was overt, even in a place where people knew we were mother and son. We both knew we were treading on dangerous ground, and neither of us was flinching.
Halfway through dinner, my husband called to say he was going to be later than planned. I smiled broadly at Eric, reaching across the table to stroke the back of his hand as I told his father to have fun and stay out as long as he liked.
I got a little tipsy at dinner and told Eric he'd have to drive. At the car, he came around to open my door like a gentleman, and just before I got in, I turned to face him. Standing very, very close, I put my hand on his chest, and said, "Thank you for a wonderful date."
He did his typical little smirk and said, "That's what this was?"
I said, "yes" and then just kissed him right on his lips. Long enough that it definitely wasn't motherly, but nothing too aggressive.
He seemed a little shocked and actually drew back a bit. I thought I'd ruined everything, but then he pulled me in for a hug, and he was hard. I felt him pressing against me, and if he would have asked, I would have sucked his cock right there.
He whispered, "I love you mom" and kissed me on the cheek.
Eric was very quiet on the way home, but he did reach over and take my hand. We held hands just like lovers the whole ride, and when we got home he came around and opened the door for me again.
I thought I’d pushed too hard. I knew I needed to back off. I knew what my body - probably my heart - was telling me to do, but I also knew I had to be the adult that night.
I told him I was sort of drunk and better go to bed. Even though I knew he'd be a couple of hours probably, I told him his dad would be home soon. We could hear some of his friends at the house next door hanging out by their pool, so I suggested he go hang out, too. He hesitated at first but then said, "Yeah, that's probably a good idea, Mom."
It took all I had not to scream "No, wait, I changed my mind, come upstairs and fuck me!"
Eric spent the night out with friends the next night, but on Sunday night, I went into his room as I usually did. I’d put my robe on for the first time in a while when I went in because by now I was terrified of what might happen. I knew I wanted it to happen, and I was sure Eric felt the same way, but I guess part of me was still fighting it. I also knew that my husband was going to be away the next weekend, but I hadn’t shared that news with Eric yet. I wanted to surprise him with that tonight.
I was thinking about all this when Eric said, "I had a great time Friday, mom. I wish we'd had some alone time together this weekend."
I told him that we should plan another mom and son date night soon, and the look he gave me made my legs weak.
Then he startled me by saying, “Don’t tease me.”
“What?” I asked. “Tease you?”
“Yes,” he said, “don’t tease me that we can have a date again if we’re not going to do it.”
I knew then. I knew what we were doing, what we were going to do.
He reached out and touched my leg before I touched him, and when I put my hand on his sexy chest and bent to kiss him on his head, he shifted his face up just a fraction. I knew what he wanted, so I kissed him on the mouth like Friday night by the car.
This time was even longer, definitely not motherly. I grazed his lips with my tongue before breaking the kiss.
"I like your new kisses," Eric said.
“Yours, too," I whispered, then I swallowed hard and told him.
"Your dad will be gone this weekend. Will you take me on another date?"
He was so fucking cute when he answered, "Hell yeah!"
I laughed and started to pull away when he grabbed my arm. I looked at him and he said, “Make sure Emma spends the weekend with grandma and grandpa.”
I blushed, was flushed, was overheating, I don’t know what the fuck I was! But I said, “I will,” and almost ran to my bed.
That week was torture. I felt every emotion imaginable: excitement, terror, fear, anger, longing, desire, lust. I still don’t know how I held it together. I avoided Eric all day on Monday and most of the day on Tuesday. Finally on Tuesday night, I went into his room for our night-time ritual, and I felt like my body was on fire. Even with my husband and daughter there, I was losing control.
I was wearing a short black nightgown with my tits spilling out of it. He was on the bed again in his black running shorts and no shirt, and I could see how hard he was already. I leaned over, my hand caressing his chest before I kissed him, and he wrapped his arm loosely around my leg.
We stared right into each other's eyes, and I made no pretense of an innocent kiss on his forehead or cheek. I kissed his mouth and as soon as my mouth touched his, I felt his tongue on mine.
It was the most exhilarating kiss of my whole life. I’ve never felt that way when I kissed his father or any other man.
It was a hungry, probing, open-mouthed, tongue-dueling kiss that left me breathless, and I ended up on the bed with him. I straddled him, and I could feel his hard cock pressing against me. We weren’t just kissing - we were making out like lovers. Eric’s hands were on my ass, pushing up my gown, touching my panties, pulling me into him harder. I started grinding against him, and I wanted to fuck him so badly I thought I'd scream.
Somehow I came to my senses. My fucking husband was right down the hall, and while it wasn’t likely, he could have walked in any time. I broke our kiss, but Eric pulled me back down and our mouths crushed together again.
It seemed like hours but was only minutes. I pushed back, and his cock was nestled right up against my pussy. It would have been so easy to reach down, grasp him, and guide him inside me. But I knew if I did, we wouldn’t stop, and I didn’t want our first time to be a hurried tumble in his bed. Finally, I tore myself away and looked into his eyes.
“When your Dad leaves Friday afternoon, he won’t be back until late Sunday evening,” I said. “Do you have any plans after our dinner date?”
He smirked and said, “I’ll think of something.”
I kissed him again, scared my husband was going to find us any second, and then I finally got off him. I stood up, but leaned over to kiss him one more time, and that time I moved my hand down and touched his cock for the first time. He moaned, and I said, "I'm going to make you so happy Friday night."
I finally tore myself away and walked down the hall. I went to my room, locked the door behind me, crawled up on the bed to my husband, and went down on him. He didn't know what hit him. As soon as he was hard, I just pulled my panties aside and put him in me. He came in about two minutes. Thankfully I was so worked up that I started cumming about 30 seconds before he did, and the whole time I was thinking about fucking my son in this same bed in three days.
I had to go out of town for work the next day and didn’t see Eric at all. I got home after midnight, and everyone including Eric was asleep. On Thursday, I had to leave before he was up, and he texted me to ask if I was avoiding him.
M: “No, just work.”
E: “You sure?”
M: “Yes...but what we did Tuesday was dangerous.”
E: “You started it, Mom.”
There was my cocky boy! I laughed and typed back.
M: “And next time I won’t stop!”
E: “Yeah, yeah.”
M: “Wait and see, mister! Your dad leaves tomorrow afternoon from his office. Your grandma is picking up Emma from school! You owe me a date.”
It went on like that all afternoon, between meetings, texting each other. It was like we were in high school planning for our parents to go out of town to throw a big party, only I was the parent, and the party I was planning involved fucking my son.
We both agreed that there’d be no goodnight kisses that night. We were so close to what we both wanted that we didn’t want to do anything to risk it, and I knew that if I went into his room that night, I could not have stopped myself from crawling into bed with him.
We also agreed that I’d leave for work before he got up. Denying myself the sight of him for most of the week was almost like edging. My body felt alive, electric, but the merest touch might have reduced me to a quivering mess.
I probably slept a total of 30 minutes on Thursday night, tossing and turning so much that even my husband, who usually sleeps like the dead, remarked on how restless I was. I finally got out of bed at 5:30 and went for a run to burn off some tension. By the time I was back, it was time to get my little girl up and off to school. I helped my husband pack for his weekend trip and that brought back the butterflies in my stomach, but I had it at least a little more under control.
As I showered, I thought about the weekend ahead. It took all my willpower not to get myself off in the shower, but I wanted my next orgasm to be with Eric. In just a few short hours, we would make love, and nothing mattered more than that.
I don’t know what I did at work that day. It floated by in a haze, and I’m sure people thought I’d lost my mind or was in an Ambien dream. The only thing that kept me going were little texts from Eric throughout the day, just saying hi, not teasing, no pictures or anything. When I got the message from my mom that she’d picked up my daughter from school, I finally told my assistant I wasn’t feeling well and was calling it a week.
I pulled into the driveway and saw Eric’s car. My heart fluttered, and I had to sit in my own car to collect myself for a moment. He was here. I was here. Just us. This was happening.
My hands trembled as I fumbled for my key to unlock the front door, and then it swung open. My beautiful, gorgeous son stood there smiling at me, and my knees almost buckled. I stepped inside and dropped my briefcase by the door. We stood for only a second looking at each other until Eric opened his arms and I fell into them.
With the years of budding interest, the months of growing attraction, the weeks of dangerous flirting, and the days of waiting, waiting, waiting, you’d have thought we’d have exploded with passion, like a romance novel or erotic story. But we just held each other for long minutes until I lifted my head to look into his eyes and our lips met. It was a soft, gentle kiss, and then our mouths opened and our hunger grew.
My tongue rolled over his, and our mouths were sealed together. I felt his hands roaming over me, but still, it was gentle, loving, not the torrid wave I might have expected. When he finally broke the kiss and smiled at me, I took his hand in mine and led him upstairs.
Later he told me that he’d assumed we were going to his room and that when he realized I was leading him to my own bed, he felt a surge of lust like nothing we’d experienced yet, and that was when the dam finally burst. As we swept across the threshold into the “marital chamber” - as he jokingly called it later that night - he took me into his arms again and his mouth claimed mine. He tugged at my blouse while I fumbled with his shirt. He unbuttoned me clumsily while I tried to pull his t-shirt over his head. I ran my hands over his bare chest as he reached under my skirt and began sliding my panties down. I stepped out of them willingly and led him to the bed.
Eric lay on his back and I stood back and tugged his jeans and briefs down. I saw his magnificent cock for the first time - so much longer and thicker than his father. My mouth watered. I reveled in his look as I unhooked my bra and showed him my tits. As I unzipped my skirt, he leaned up and rubbed his face against my taut nipples, and I shuddered with desire.
Skirt discarded, I tumbled on top of him, showering his face with kisses as he gripped my fleshy ass and pulled me hard against him. His cock felt like an iron bar against my stomach, and my pussy was on fire. I balanced myself with my left hand as I lifted my hips. I took him in my right hand, squeezing, and softly giving him two or three strokes. I positioned his gorgeous prick at my entrance, lowered myself, and slid him inside me. When I was fully impaled, I leaned down and just lay on him for a second.
“Mom,” he whispered.
“I know,” I replied. “I love you.”
I slowly began to roll my hips, adjusting to his size. I lifted up, then slid down, a little further up, further down, faster up, faster down, with each rise and fall.
Eric started by grasping my hips, and then his hands went to my ass, squeezing, kneading, pulling me harder against him with each motion. He began moving his hips in concert with mine, increasing our contact, multiplying the passion we both felt.
Faster now. Harder. Faster.
I realized I was moaning, and Eric was grunting, punctuating each thrust. I looked as his face contorted with pleasure until he gasped:
“Mom, I’m gonna…”
“Yes, baby, do it...cum in me, cum for me, cum now lover,” I moaned.
I can’t describe the feeling that washed over as I felt him spasm inside me. His whole body convulsed as he cried out, “Mooooommmmm,” and I, too, exploded.
I collapsed on Eric’s chest, and he wrapped me in his arms and rolled. Suddenly I was under him as he kissed my lips gently. He was shaking - we both were - and tears were rolling down the side of my face, trailing down to my neck. I looked into his eyes, and they were full as well. I smiled as he began to weep.
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Pansy
- 12.05.2022
- 37
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- Category:
- Incest
