A Stepmother's Sin - Ch 8 - Robert Returns To free porn video
And as you would expect, Robert shared my bed with me the rest of the summer. We had fallen into a
routine of sorts. Every day, before Icame home from work, I would insert my diaphragm, even after
the pill was supposed to be adequate protection.
I believe we made love virtually every night, often more than once. Even when I was menstruating,
Robert still wanted me and had me. Robert found a sturdy, two step plastic blue step-stool that he
placed in the shower when I was menstruating, and he would have me stand on the first step and
fuck me from behind, while the warm shower washed away any evidence of my period. I would face
the shower wall, bracing myself against the tile as Robert pounded me from behind.
I never was able to climax like this, but the fact that Robert wanted me, or perhaps needed me even
when I was on my period was very flattering to me. I have never felt as sexy or desirable as I did with
my stepson.
I have never been fucked so often or so well in my life as I was that summer. Occasionally, I was met
in my kitchen by a naked young man sporting a raging hard-on as I enjoyed my coffee before work.
Robert’s standard joke became, “May I offer you some cream with that ma’am?” as he entered the
kitchen expecting his good morning blow job before I left for work.
I never refused him. I doubt I ever will.
We often talked about our Fourth of July in the Adirondacks. It was clear, we would both cherish the
memory of he four days when we could behave like a couple in public. Every time Robert discussed
seeing me climax on horseback, with the 'ben wa balls' banging away inside my vagina, he would get
aroused.
He did talk me into renting a motorcycle one Saturday. We drove along Shore Road with me clinging
to Robert on the back of the Harley, the 'ben wa balls' clicking and clacking inside me, and the
vibration of the two-cycle motor sending waves of pleasure through me.
Once I started cumming, I could not stop. I just hung on, clinging to Robert as climax after climax
quaked through my core. I was begging for him to stop, to let me come down, but he drove on. I
actually think I had a ten minute orgasm! By the time he finally pulled off the expressway and let me
dismount, I was shaking and dizzy.
I lost count, but I swear I had seven or eight orgasms on the back of the motorcycle before he let me
stop. I still get wet just thinking about that afternoon.
Yes, Robert’s creativity, sexual energy and endurance was of mythical proportions. I know he was
nineteen, actuallyhe turned twenty in early August, but even on an ‘age adjusted basis’ he had more
stamina and drive than anyone I have ever heard about either personally or from literature. Robert
continued to tell me it was me that inspired this level of performance. Despite all my misgivings about
the nature of our relationship, I found his attention and sexual prowess deeply emotionally fulfilling on
some level. But my massive guilt did not abate.
By the end of the work week, I would actually feel sleep deprived; having been awakened multiple
times in the wee hours of the morning by Robert's massive boner. At least two, sometimes three
times during a week, Robert would take me between one o'clock and four o'clock in the morning,
leaving my vagina sloppy with his semen oozing out of me.
I loved it. It was flattering to be the center of his sexual universe, but it was exhausting as well. I knew
it would end soon with his return to college so I endured the fatigue, and enjoyed the attention.
I came to accept the fact that for him, this was beautiful and proper; and nothing I could ever do we
change his mind. For me, it was a matter of dealing with a clear mistake in judgment I had made at
the beginning of the summer in a manner that minimized additional harm to my stepson and our
relationship.
Yes, the enormously sensual pleasure of our carnal relationship was exciting and satisfying, but, on
some deep level, I honestly believe I would have given all that up if I could return to a time when I
was not sleeping with, and being fucked by my stepson.
Perhaps I was being naïve. Perhaps, if given the choice, I would have chosen the love, affection and
carnal pleasure that Robert and I shared. Who knows?
About a week before he was scheduled to fly back to the West Coast and return to college, Robert
asked, “Mom, now that the summer is almost over, do you still think what we having been doing is
wrong? Do you still regret us becoming intimate?”
“Robert, I have enjoyed our intimacy more than you can imagine. You have stirred emotions in me
that I did not know existed. You have given me pleasure that I did not think was possible. And you
have touched me in places I did not know I had….literally, you have touched me more deeply than I
thought possible”.
Robert smiled at the last comment indicating the pun was not lost on him. I paused and then
continued, “But baby, yes, I do think what we did was wrong. I do regret letting this happen. I regret
not having more control and more restraint than to have let this ‘cat out of the bag’ in the first place.”
My comments, though truthful, obviously hurt Robert. “I wish you did not feel that way, Mom.”
“Robert, after all we have been through, all we have shared and all we have done, I feel that above all
we need to be honest with ourselves. And I fear that our intimacy will harm you; if not today, some
day. I fear that the events of this summer will interfere with you having the relationships you deserve
as a grown man. I fear that our relationship, while being very close and caring, lacks the innocence
that a relationship between a mother and stepson should.”
I took his hands in mine, and said, “And I am so very sorry for any pain any of this ever causes you.”
“Mom, you did not do anything wrong. In fact, you never had a chance. It was me, not you, who made
this happen. I was the only one who could have stopped this.”
“No, I am the adult…” I started to interrupt.
Robert stopped me, “Mom, no disrespect, but as intelligent and assertive as you are at work; you are
submissive in relationships. Once I realized that you really could not say 'no', that you could not resist
a strong malefor whomyou had strong feelings, I knew I could have you if I wanted. And I wanted you.
You never had a chance.”
After several moments of silence, Robert asked, “Mom, do you think something can be wrong and still
be beautiful?”
I pondered his question for several moments before responding, “Perhaps it can. I do not know. I
need to think about that. But that does seem to describe what we have been doing.”
To this day, I wonder if Robert is right; did I ever have a chance to avoid this situation? And I still
ponder whether something could be both wrong and beautiful.
I remember that night, after that conversation, we retired to my bed and we made deep, passionate
love before falling asleep in each other's arms. Yes, I knew I would miss Robert when he returned to
school.
Robert’s last night of summer
Robert was due to leave tomorrow morning at 8:15 a.m. He called me at work asking if I could get off
a little early tonight. I said, “Sure honey, I will try.”
I was nervous, anxious, sad and relieved all at once about Robert’s pending departure. I did not know
what the future held, but we had survived the summer with our relationship intact; actually, we
appeared to have strengthened our relationship. Would it last? Who could tell? I would miss him
terribly, of that I was sure.
I got home a bit earlier than usual, and was met at the door by Robert who handed me a glass of
merlot. Entering the hallway to the living room, I immediately knew Robert had been busy, and tonight
would be special.
The room was darkened except for about a dozen strawberry scented Yankee candles. On the floor,
in front of the couch were the comforter from my bed, covered neatly with a sheet, and several
pillows. Robert had moved a portable heat lamp into the room as well. The DVD player was playing
one of my relaxation CDs, ‘ocean sounds’, which was the sound of waves against a background of
soft, romantic music.
Before I could enter the living room, Robert took my suit jacket and hung it up. I caught a fragrance
that was very familiar, but at first I could not place. Glancing into the kitchen, I could see a pan
heating on my stove, and I realized the aroma was coming from this pan of baby oil which Robert was
warming. It was clear that Robert planned to make our last night special. God, I loved that boy, even if
I had showed it in unconventional ways.
Robert guided me to the living room couch, where he sat me down with my glass of wine, and took
my foot and slowly removed my dress boot. I was instantly reminded of the evening of our second
coupling when Robert removed my boots while his penis was still throbbing inside me following a
beautiful orgasm. The memory made my vagina spasm momentarily, and I could feel myself growing
moist at the very thought of that evening. That was a good memory. I cherish it to this very day.
After removing my one boot, Robert raised my leg and peered directly at my panty covered crotch,
stared, moaned softly, and said, “You are so very beautiful, mom. I love you so much.” I wanted to
reach up and hug him, but with him holding me leg up like that, I could not. So Ijust leaned back to
bask in the loving attention and admiration of my son.
Robert slowly massaged my foot, calf and leg for several minutes, gently running his hands up my
inner thigh occasionally to touch my ever moistening pussy through the gusset of my panties. God, he
was a sexy and sensuous man. I finished my glass of wine as he massaged my leg, and set the
empty glass on the table next to the couch. Robert stopped, released my leg and got up to get me
another glass.
He returned quickly, handed me my second glass of wine, and took my other foot and slowly removed
my other boot, repeating the touching and caressing on my other leg, and paying even greater
attention to my now aroused pussyeach time hestroked up my inner thigh. I was involuntarily rocking
my hips in a state of arousal, anxious to be touched more intimately, and loved completely.
I finished my second glass of Merlot, and set it down, feeling just the perfect level of alcohol so that I
had no inhibitions, and I could bury any guilt I might still harbor for the evening. Robert got up, and
started for the kitchen. I tried to stop him, “Robert, come back. I don’t need any more wine.”
“Okay, mom. I am just going to get the warm baby oil from the stove.”
He returned with the sauce pan and a kitchen towel. He folded the towel on the coffee table and
placed the sauce pan on top of it. The he took my hand, stood me up and removed my skirt, blouse,
and bra; leaving me with only my very moist panties. Robert guided me to lay on my stomach on the
sheet atop the comforter on the floor.
Robert turned on the heat lamp, and quickly I felt the warmth radiating from above on my naked back
and legs. I was very aroused already. And so was Robert; he removed his tee shirt, and had just his
gym shorts on. His penis stuck out from the waist band of his shorts by at least three inches. He
looked into my eyes as he removed his gym shorts, freeing his beautiful cock, allowing it to stand
freely in front of him. I looked over my shoulder trying to commit this image of my stepson to memory
since I certainly could not put this picture in the family album.
Robert kneeled beside me, and placed a small amount of the warm baby oil on my back.
I pulled my hair up, away from my back, giving Robert complete access to my shoulders.
Thewarm baby oil feltexquisite as he massaged my back and shoulders. Robert tooktime to reach
around under me to caress the sides of my breast as he worked his way down my sides. I would raise
myself up slightly to allow him to contact my erect nipples each time his hands moved towards the
sides of my breast. Robert would gently tweak my nipple before continuing with the massage. I was in
heaven.
Robert moved down and started at my calves, working his way up my thigh. When he got to the top of
my thighs, he took hold of panties as I raised my hips to allow him to remove them. I was now naked
in front of my son, basking in the warmth of the heat lamp, responding to his touch, with my mood
assisted by a slight alcohol induced “buzz.” I was enjoying a feeling of contentment I cannot describe.
Robert began touching my pussy, which by now was aroused, open and wet. He bypassed the slow,
one finger introduction I was used to, and inserted two fingers immediately without any resistance
from my vagina walls. I was already aroused enough to accommodate both his large probing fingers. I
moaned into the pillow with ecstatic pleasure and he massaged the front wall of my vagina, touching
my g-spot, as he done so many times over our summer of intimacy.
I placed one of the pillows under my abdomen as I pulled myself up into a slight kneeling position to
allow me to rock my hips and arch my back into his probing fingers. I was going to cum any moment
just from his touch, I could feel it building inside of me. I buried my face into another one of the pillows
asmoaning loudly, as I felt my orgasm beginning to build.
And then he stopped and suddenly withdrew his fingers. I continue to rock my hips, humping at air in
frustrated anticipation. I expected, and hoped, that Robertwould climb behind me and penetrate me
doggy style to finish me off bypounding me from behind. But he did not.
Instead, he got up, moved one of the straight backed wooden chair from the kitchen into the living
room and quickly retrieved a package from behind the couch. ‘What the hell was he up to?’ I
wondered.
“Robert, please don’t stop, honey. I am so close. Come make love to me.” I pleaded in frustration, I
looked back at him as I remained on ‘all fours,’ ready andwilling to be taken by my stepson from
behind. I started to beg him to come back and 'fuck me good, fuck me one last time,' but I knew that
tonight was his night; he planned everything out, and I would go along with his plan.
I looked over my shoulder and watched as he removed a large suction based, phallic shaped vibrator
from a plastic bag. I looked at Robert with my best 'WTF look.'
The vibrator was huge. I later discovered it waseight inches long, and overtwo inches thick. It
wasbright red with an oversized head, thickly veined down the sides, with a large suction cup for the
base.
Robert twisted the base and the device sprung to life buzzing and vibrating, rather loudly I might add.
The suddenness of the sound startled me. He then turned it off after he got my attention.
“What is that for?” I questioned, really quite concerned about where this ‘plan’ was heading. Actually,
I knew that both Robert's plan wasthat the large device was heading up my tight pussy; and I was
pretty sure that device was not going to fit!
“Mom, we are going to teach you how to please yourself when I am not here to take care of things for
you.”
Robert then placed the large red vibrating dildo on the wooden, straight back chair from the kitchen.
The suction cup held it in place standing straight up. Its size was intimidating; or accurately
frightening.
“Baby, that’s not going to fit inside me.” I was clearly alarmed, in fact, I was scared.
"Mom, you have taken all of me. I am that big.”
I looked at thetwo inch thick, big red dick stickingeight inches above the seat of the chair for a
moment, and I turned to my son and said, “No baby, I don’t think you are. You are a very well
endowed man, very well endowed. But son, that thing is huge. I am not a big woman. I think we need
to start out with a toy that is a little more reasonable in size.”
I realize by calling Robert ‘son’ instead of ‘baby’ I was taking a more serious, more authoritative tone.
For a moment it dawned on me, that I never took this tone to discourage Robert went was first trying
to seduce me, and get in my panties at the beginning of the summer. No, at that time it was ‘baby, we
can’t do this…..’. I guess I never did try to dissuade him from pushing forward at all, did I?
But now I had a more immediate and urgent problem, I did not think I could accommodate that huge
toy in my rather tiny pussy; and if I did, my pussy might never be the same.
“Nonsense,” Robert said with confidence. “This will fit just fine.” And Robert twisted the base of “big
red, it started to buzz loudly.
I suddenly remembered something else even more critical. “Robert, I can’t do this right now. I have
my diaphragm in place.”
“Does that matter, mom?”
“Oh baby, that thing is so huge, it could damage the diaphragm.”
“Well, mom, take out your diaphragm.”
“Robert, if I do, I need you to promise me that you will not enter me until I have it back in place.”
Robert smiled, “Mom, I promise you, I will not enter you until you can put it back in place. I really
mean it. This is for you. Honest.”
Okay, this was important to my son; so I decided to give it a go. Hell I have never been able to say
'no' to Robert and stick with it on any subject. I squatted down and removed the diaphragm, and
placed it end table next to the couch. The large volume of spermicidal jelly remaining in its concave
belly. There was still a fairly large volume of spermicidal jelly up inside my belly as well.
Robert handed me a tube of K-Y jelly. "Here mom, put some of this on your inner lips. It will help you
take 'big red'."
I never had to use artificial lubrication before. Certainly not with Robert. Robert has had my pussy
gushing all summer. But looking at the size of large red phallus buzzing on the chair, I decided I need
all the help I could get.
I squeezed a large dollop of the clear gel on to my finger tips, squatted slightly and placed the
lubricating gel at the opening of my vagina and up inside me. I handed the tube back to Robert, took
a deep breath and took a few steps towards the very intimidating toy on the chair.
But as I approached the vibrating device, I realized there was yet another problem with ‘geometry’;
onethat Robert had not anticipated. The vibrating head was far too high for me to mount from the
floor. I was not nearly tall enough to straddle the damn thing in place, on the chair.
Robert tried to have me stand on the chair seat and lower myself down, while he steadied the chair.
But it was far too unsteady, and there was no way for me to lower myself on this enormous device
without truly ripping my pussy in two. And the scene of me trying was neither sexy nor graceful, I
realized.
I climbed down off the chair. “Baby, this just is not going to work. I can’t climb on that damn thing
without really hurting myself. And I mean really hurting myself, baby.”
As I spoke, I realized, now that I was back to attempting to comply with Robert’s instruction, I had
returned to calling him ‘baby.’ I was back in compliance and submissive mode. I was learning some
things about myself.
Robert stood and studied the situation for a second, and then his face lit up. “If Mohammad won’t
come to the mountain…” he said in a moment of epiphany. I saw no reason to correct his obvious
misquote here, I had more pressing concerns.
After wrestling the vibrator free of the chair with a loud 'pop', Robert took me and the vibrator back to
the couch. He laid me back, pushed my heels back towards my ass and spread my knees apart.
“Mom, hold yourself open for me.”
"What are you planning to do?" I asked with obvious concern. While I wanted to comply with Robert's
desires, I also was very concerned with hurting myself.
"Mom, we'll get the vibratorinside you first, then have you walk over to the chair and I'll teach you how
to cum without me here."
He sounded so very confident this would work. However, I was pretty apprehensive myself. But I
decided to comply, as I almost always do with my stepson's requests.
I reached down, and pulled my vaginal lips open as instructed, realizing that I had lost all semblance
of modesty around my stepson. I was opening myself up in the most obscene manner possible for
Robert’s gaze and pleasure.He placed the head of the huge device at my opening and started to
slowly work it in and out, penetrating me about a inch at a time.
“Oh, Robert, be careful. I don’t know if I can do this baby,” I cried out. There was a real sense of panic
in my voice. The size of the head definitely scared me a bit. It simply felt too big.
“Not too fast, baby, go slow. My God. I don’t think it is going fit, baby.”
The huge head was stretching me wide open. Maybe, it was because of the texture of the unyielding
plastic head just created more friction than a real penis. Maybe it was simply larger than Robert was.
Maybe, because I was scared,I simply was not as open, lubricated and aroused as I had been when
Robert was fingering me moments before. But, regardless, I was struggling to accept this enormous
device in my vagina.
It was stretching me to the point that I did not know if I could take it. I felt something between
discomfort and pain as my vulva was being stretched apart. Part of me wanted to ask Robert to stop
before he tore my vagina; but much more of me wanted to do this for my stepson. I wanted to accept
his present inside me.
“Baby, just go easy. You don’t want to tear mommy’s pussy on the last day of summer.”
I reached around under my legs and pulling myself open as Robert continued the slow assault on my
pussy. “Baby, I don’t thinkmy pussy will ever be the same again after you get that thing in me.”
I really meant ‘if’ you get that inside me.
At the same time, there was something arousing about struggling to accept this vibrating demon up
inside me.
Then Robert started twisting the dildo slightly as he moved it in and out of me. Suddenly, almost
magically, my vagina spasmed, and the large head seemed to pass a tight restriction at the very
mouth of pussy and slid about two or three inches deeper inside me. I must have dilated a bit more;
more than I ever had before.
The twisting motion and the vibrations worked together and I began to start to respond. Once past the
first restriction in my vagina, I was far more open and the vibrating head felt good on my inner walls.
“Oh, baby, that’s it. I think we did it! I think you made it past my opening. It is starting to feel good.” I
pushed myself down against Robert’s thrusts. After his initial ‘break through’, deeper penetration
seemed easier, and enjoyable. My natural lubrication coupled with the K-Y gelmade the stretching of
my tight little pussy enjoyable rather than painful as I had feared moments ago
I started to moan and hump back as Robert began to stroke longer deeper strokes in and out of my
fully dilated vagina. I felt an orgasm building when Robert stopped fucking me with the dildo, leaving it
vibrating in place. “Oh baby, please don’t stop. I am almost there,” I pleaded.
But Robert pulled me forward, pulling me almost into a sitting position, I was forced to reach down
and grab the large dildo to keep it from shooting out of me on to the living room floor. Glancing
between my legs, I could see more than three inches of this monster still sticking out of me, indicating
I had taken less that five inches or so of this red 'monster dick,' yet, I felt so very, very full.
As he pulled me to a standing position, I struggled, not to hurt myself by driving the toy too deep, too
fast. Standing up, bowlegged, I continued to hold the vibrating tool in place as Robert walked me to
the chair which he instructed me to straddle. The vibrator slid out of me slightly. Robert reached
between my legs and affixed the suction cup to the seat of the chair as I straddle the chair per
Robert’s directions.
I was now astride the chair, leaving me with the device deep inside of me. I slowly began to raise and
lower myself to push it in and out of me. I started moving up and down only about two inches. I felt
the strain of my inner thighs as I slowly started fucking Robert’s present. I was glad I was in shape. I
was very glad I had spend all the time I at the gym on the stair-stepper that I had.
I stood up as high as I could, but that still left about 3 to 4 inches of this huge vibrating phallus inside
of me. Then I would lower myself as quickly and far as I dared. Each plunge downward evoked
another involuntary grunt. But each plunge down gave me a shot of pleasure deep into my womb that
encouraged me to try to go a little faster, and a little deeper next time.
“God mom, you are taking so much of that inside you. You are so damn sexy, mom. I love you. I love
you. Thank you for doing this for me.”
My baby knew I was fucking this huge toy for him. And I was going to make myself cum for him. And I
was going to show that him I could; that I could fuck this hue toy and cum on it.
I was determined to make this happen for both Robert and me. I lowered myself as far as I could,
pushing down with a guttural grunt. “Oh baby this thing is so big. Do you have any idea how deep this
thing is stuck inside your mommy’s pussy?”
“Tell me how deep, mom. How deep is it inside you?” His penis was arching forward in a throbbing
motion, indicating that he found this very stimulating. And as always, his excitement increased mine.
I pointed to my abdomen,an inch or twoabove my navel.
"Baby, I feel the head all the way up here!"
Robert’s penis pulsed as I pointed to my belly.
“Baby, come here. Let momma help you with that.” Balancing myself by placing my hands between
legs, pushing down on the wooden seat which the vibrator’s suction cup was attached to give me
leverage as I rode myself closer and closer to orgasm with each plunge.
Robert walked over to me and presented me with the finest penis, the most beautiful erection I will
ever see. Holding his stiff rod with one hand, as I continued to balance myself with my other hand, I
took his rigid penis into my mouth as I pushed as deep as I could the vibrator.
“God mom, you are taking that entire vibrator.”
“ I know baby.” I moaned as I pulled his erection into my mouth. I started bouncing more rapidly and
more violently, sensing my orgasm was imminent and, at this point, unavoidable. I was going to cum
for my boy, there was no stopping me now. Each stroke caused me to groan loudly around Robert’s
penis which was pulsing on my tongue and lips.
“Oh, baby, I am cumming,” I said taking Robert from my mouth just long enough to convey the
message. It must of have been the excitement of my orgasm that triggered Robert’s.
“Oh God, mom, so am I, mom.”
I felt and tasted the first of a series of eruptions from Robert’s throbbing penis. I sucked, and I
swallowed, and I sucked some more as I continued to impaled myself as deeply as I could on ‘big
red’. I felt like I was placing my entire weight on this vibrator, pushing it as deep as it would go. There
was simply no more room in my pussy. I was bottomed out.
I swallowed three times and Robert’s penis was still dribbling his semen into my mouth. I continued to
softly suck him in order to not lose a drop. I realized that the only semen I had ever tasted was from
my stepson’s loins. I had not allowed any other man to ejaculate in my mouth. I doubted I knew
anyone else who could make that claim.
With my breasts heaving and while holding Robert’s penis by my face, I stoppedbouncing up and
down, and I asked, “OK, Robert, how do I get off this thing?”
“Lean forward and break the suction.” I did as Robert instructed, leaned forward and the suction cup
released with a large ‘pop.’ I caught the vibrator as it squirted out of me and fell forward between my
legs.
Robert came over, led me to the comforter on the floor, and laid me down. With my legs bent, Robert
placed my heels back towards my ass and gently spread my knees. He bent forward and gently
kissed and then sucked my clitoris. I was very sensitive, having just cum, “Baby, be gentle, I am too
sensitive right there. Just fuck me, baby.”
I looked down and saw his penis throbbing up and down, and I pulled him forward. Even though he
had just cum, he remained rigidly hard.
He entered me easily, my pussy still wet, aroused and dilated from the vibrator. Robert’s huge cock
met little or no resistance. I wrapped my legs around his midsection as he slowly, and lovingly fucked
me. He was growing firmer as he stroked in and out of me slowly, and I was enjoying the loving
sensations he was creating inside me.
As I pulled him close for a kiss, I happened to glanced over, and there on the table… OMG!
“Oh shit, Robert,… shit, shit, shit… baby, you have to pull out.” I said in a panic, having seen my
diaphragm on the end table. “Baby, please, pull out, I need to put my diaphragm back in place.”
Robert stopped mid stroke, puzzled at first, then realizing what I was saying. He suddenly got a
strange smile and just remained motionless for one or two seconds. “Say pretty please…”
“Pretty please, Robert, pull your dick out of me now!” I really was not amused.
Robert chuckled and, after a moment, did just that; he withdrew from me as my pussy made a loud
slurping sound as he exited me, trying to hold him in place. “Had you nervous, didn’t I?” he quipped.
“As a matter of fact, yes, you did a little bit. You little shit.” Said as I got up and retrieved the
diaphragm and inserted it.
“Now come here and finish what you started, young man.” as I leaned back in my most provocative
pose, legs apart. Robert climbed back into position, and entered me. Robert stroke in and out of me
for a long time. Having just cum in my mouth, he had no urgency in reaching another orgasm this
quickly. He made slow, gentle love to me fortwenty to thirtyminutes as I wrapped my legs around him
and ‘spurred him on’ with my heels on his ass.
As he fucked me, it dawned on me that he was leaving in the morning. This could be the last time we
made love. I started to cry silently. As he climaxed one last time.
We slept in each others' arms.
We awoke, and I accompanied him to LaGuardia airport. Robert hugged me deeply and then headed
for security. I was crying quietly as he walked away. I knew then, as I know now, I will never have this
level love, tenderness or intimacy with anyone else no matter how long I live. The summer was over,
and we had survived, but I had a profound sense of loss and loneliness at that moment.
Epilogue:
Yes, when Robert left, I was filled with an incredible sense of loneliness, and loss. There was a
profound emptiness in my life, and in my bed. Certainly, I missed the sexual excitement and pleasure;
but I missed sharing my bed with him and cuddling through the night even more. I tried to meet my
sexual needs through masturbation; however, my libido dropped dramatically, I was able to achieve
limited success with my own hand.
I was pleased that Robert resumed his schoolwork without any problems. He and I would talk on the
phone weekly. I learned that Robert was dating several young women at school. His grades were
good and everything seemed to have stabilized for him nicely.
Every Friday evening, Robert would call me and try to engage me in phone sex using the vibrator he
gave me and the hands free headset. Robert, like most young males could “spank the monkey” under
almost any circumstance with success. On the other hand, (literally), it would take several glasses of
wine to get me to relax enough to even consider mounting ‘big red’ and even with Robert’s
encouragement and my best efforts over the hands free headset, my ability to achieve an orgasm
was a rare occurrence.
One Friday night, Robert instructed me to get my laptop and set it up on the table next to the chair
where the vibrating dildo was to be attachedattached. He directed me to and told me to search for
'James Deen fucks mature woman.' It wasa thirty nine minute clip showing a gorgeous redhead and
her younger lover.
I hit pause; went to the couch while wearing the headset. I inserted the vibrator while telling Robert
precisely how wide I was being stretched. I waddled over to the chair, affixed the vibrator and hit play.
"Mom, who do the actors in the movie remind you of?"
"Oh my god, it looks like you and me. Her hair is red, but the way they are making love... it's like I am
watching a video of you and me."
I came quickly that evening, fantasizing that Robert was doing to me precisely what James Deen
was doing to the beautiful woman on the screen.
But as I said, more often than not, I was not able to achieve orgasm over the phone with Robert.
On a few otheroccasions, when I seemed to be at the peak of my cycle and my libido was at its
height, and Robert was verbally arousing me with memories of our most cherish and sensual
encounters, I did cum. And while very enjoyable, it still left me feeling a bit empty and unfulfilled.
Robert certainly enjoyed our verbal long distance foreplay, and was disappointed when I could not
achieve an orgasm during these games. In fact, I got in the habit of doing something I had never
down previously, I occasionally faked orgasms on the phone with my stepson.
I felt that my inability to cum might be my punishment for the sins I committed with Robert this
summer. In truth, I would have accepted that fate as my punishment; however, I feared that
ultimately, my punishment could be much, much worse. Some of you might think this fear of
punishment is silly; but I havetwelve years of Catholic education where the nuns indoctrinated me into
the concept of sin, guilt and punishment. And it was in that context that I viewed the world and my
many sins.
One day, a few weeks before the holidays, following a failed attempt to get me to climax over the
phone, Robert directed me to another internet porn site that had volumes of stories on various sexual
variations. “Mom, I found an interesting internet site that I want you to visit, I want you to read some of
the stories on taboo sex. It may put what we did, what we shared in a more appropriate context. It
may help you realize that we are not as unique, not as perverted as you seem to think.”
After much discussion and at Robert’s insistence, I agreed to visit the site. There was a whole list of
various sexual deviations listed. I really did not know such sites existed. There were categories of
stories on bondage, wife swapping, exhibitionism, lesbian stories, gay stories, love stories, and
stories about toys and devices. And yes, there was section on taboo sex. Most of the stories dealt
with father-stepdaughter, or stepbrother-stepsister relationships. Some were well written, most were
not.
I was a bit surprised at both the number of stories and the interest this taboo subject seemed to
garner. And while some of the better written stories were stimulating, my attempts to masturbate to
them were still not successful.
Next time when we spoke, Robert asked if I had visited the site, I said that I had.
“You see mom, there are a lot of people out there in the same situation as us. There are a lot of
people who have relationships similar to ours.”
“Robert, those stories are fiction. They are somebody’s fantasy. These things did not actually happen.
They are very different than what we actually did. Even the site itself says that they are all fiction, all
fantasy.”
Robert was slow to answer, “Are you sure about that, Mom? Are you sure that these stories are all
fiction? Don’t some of the better written ones ring kind of true? Do you think someone could make up
all that stuff if none of it happened?”
I still was not convinced, but I had to concede, I did not know what was fact and what was fiction; and
I still do not.
About a month later, Robert made a peculiar request, “Mom, I want you to do something for me, for
us. I want you to write our story and submit it to Lush Stories. I want you to write it as accurately and
truthfully as you can.”
After much prodding, I agreed to think about it. In subsequent conversations, Robert asked me
several more times if I had started on our story. I told him honestly, that I had made some attempts,
but I just could not bring myself to write our story, at least not yet. I promised that I would continue to
consider the idea, and that if I ever got to the emotional place where I could pen our story, I would.
Update:
It was June 2012, when that fateful night occurred and I stumbledupon Robert masturbating in my
living room. I do not seem to be able to remember my relationship with Robert before that date very
well. Robert is due to graduate this May, and his life seems to be heading towards a perfect ‘story
tale’ ending. He is engaged to a wonderful young woman, named Elizabeth. I met Elizabeth this past
Christmas when Robert came to visit. I gave them my bedroom, and I slept on the couch for theeight
days they were here.
As you might expect, with Robert’s fiancé here, Robert and I were never physically intimate during his
visit. I truly am glad for that fact, and for the fact that he seems happy and in love with this fine young
lady. I must confess, before Robert’s arrival, I did resume taking the pill and I had my diaphragm in
place each night in the unlikely event that Robert tried to pay me a midnight visit. These precautions
proved unnecessary. Is it possible to feel sad and happy about the same development? I did.
After Robert left, I decided to complete the writing of our story, as Robert requested. It feels like
writing this allows me to close this chapter of my life. I allowed Robert to read and review my writing;
he made some comments, which I have included.
I must confess, it has taken a long time to complete this autobiographical story of my sin. It has been
emotionally draining to do so. I have cried while type, and I have become aroused. There were times
that I felt compelled to stop writing and masturbate to relieve my level of arousal and frustration.
So as I finish this story, I dedicate it to my stepson, Robert, whommore deeply than ever. I hope and
pray that he finds happiness, and I pray that I can be forgiven for my weaknesses and sins.
Nonetheless, these are cherished memories for me, and they always will be.
Robert’s comments:
Since Mom wrote this at my encouragement, and insistence, she allowed me to read and comment
on it before finalizing 'our story'. I do not know if Mom will ever submit this story for wider reading, but
I hope she does. If she does, I do not know if she will include my comments. But these comments are
written more for her than they are for other readers. So I will break this into two parts, one to my
mom, and one to the readers, if mom ever decides to publish this work (which I hope she does.)
Notes to Mom:
Mom, I think you captured the events that you and I shared very accurately. And you managed to
understand much of my frame of mind very well. You are correct, I never did, and still do not, think
there was anything wrong, evil or sick about the beautiful moments and experiences you and I
shared.
On the other hand, I think you have been far too hard on yourself. You neither initiated any of these
events, nor could you have stopped them even if you tried. And yes, many times you tried. I have
tried to make you understand this over the past two years, so now I will try in writing. Maybe if you
have some time to read and re-read my thoughts and feelings you will begin to accept them as true.
You are the most beautiful, giving and loving woman I have ever known (including my fiancé whom I
adore). You do not have it in yourself to deny those you love any affection.
When I arrived at your apartment in June, two years ago, I knew I was going to push the boundaries
with you all summer. I did not l know how successful I would be, but I had plotted, in my own mind,
several plans to share some level of sexual experiences with you. The masturbation on the couch,
and what followed was just one of many plans I had hatched.
I should not have done it, but I could not fight my obsession. Yes, I was obsessed with you. The only
way you could have kept me ‘in line' would have been to become so harsh with your admonishments,
that you would have felt that you were jeopardizing our relationship; and this was something I knew
you could not do.
You have often asked me if I had any regrets as you spoke of yours. I have always told you that I had
none. That is not entirely true. I regret not being more sensitive to the guilt you might experience as I
pushed you into a physical relationship that you did not seek. I convinced myself that the sexual
pleasure I gave you was sufficient justification for the minor pangs of guilt you experienced. I knew
what I wanted, and I rationalized everything else. I guess that’s what k**s do, huh? They typically do
not think too much about how their actions will affect their parents. So I am sorry I was not more
considerate of your needs.
I love you very much. I really do believe I love you even more deeply and on more levels because of
the intimacy we shared. And I will treasure those most intimate moments.
To the readers (if you ever see this):
I know you probably think I am a selfish jerk. Honestly, you are not far wrong, at least I was. In my
defense, what teenager isn’t? And what teenage boy does not convince himself that providing the
object of his affections with sexual pleasure and sexual fulfillment is adequate to offset any emotional
harm he may cause her? Yes, we are all jerks. Some of us grow to be decent men, but we all start
out as jerks.
The difference is that, in most cases, the object of our affections is not our stepmother. Or at least we
do not actively pursue our mothers or stepmothers as I did. But I did, and do I love her. I loved her
deeply and my pressuring her sexually really was an expression of my love. It was also an immature,
selfish way to express my love, but make no mistake, I felt as deep and passionate love for her as
any man could feel for any woman. And I still do.
My life is going very well. My intimacy with my mother has not harmed me in any way. I will graduate
from college in May. I am now engaged to a wonderful girl. We plan to be married this summer. She
is a sophomore in electrical engineering at USC. Elizabeth is intelligent, beautiful, witty, charming and
athletic. And she is tall; unlike my mother who is something under 5 ft. 4 inches,Elizabeth is 5 ft. 11
inches. (So I am not marrying a look-a-like model of my mom!)
I chose not to tellElizabeth about my experience with mom. I do not think I ever will. Keeping this from
Liz does trouble me in the context that she has been so open with me. I have wondered why despite
Liz sharing her experience with me, I am reluctant to share my experience with mom with Liz.
Liz has share with me that herfirst experience with a penis was her stepbrother's. And she does not
regret learning about her body and the male body from her stepbrother. Yet I have not shared with
her the experience that Mom and I shared.
I am not sure I understand why?
I have some theories. One is that it is so precious a memory that I want to keep it only for mom and
me. Another is that I fear that ifElizabeth knew about my intimacy with mom, it might interfere withLiz
and mom forming a relationship, orLiz might feel threatened by mom. In event, I believe thatthis is a
part of me that will remain strictly between mom and me. (So you can relax, mom!)
During the Christmas visit, mom and I did not have any opportunity to be alone and be intimate. Who
knows what opportunities will exist in the future? But I will admit, mom’s comments that she will
resume taking the pill, and have her diaphragm in place during Elizabeth’s and my next visit pleases
me; a lot. I like the fact that mom does not quite know when and where I will get her the next time.
Robert.
Rest assured, I will make love to her again; at the very first opportunity. Robert.
routine of sorts. Every day, before Icame home from work, I would insert my diaphragm, even after
the pill was supposed to be adequate protection.
I believe we made love virtually every night, often more than once. Even when I was menstruating,
Robert still wanted me and had me. Robert found a sturdy, two step plastic blue step-stool that he
placed in the shower when I was menstruating, and he would have me stand on the first step and
fuck me from behind, while the warm shower washed away any evidence of my period. I would face
the shower wall, bracing myself against the tile as Robert pounded me from behind.
I never was able to climax like this, but the fact that Robert wanted me, or perhaps needed me even
when I was on my period was very flattering to me. I have never felt as sexy or desirable as I did with
my stepson.
I have never been fucked so often or so well in my life as I was that summer. Occasionally, I was met
in my kitchen by a naked young man sporting a raging hard-on as I enjoyed my coffee before work.
Robert’s standard joke became, “May I offer you some cream with that ma’am?” as he entered the
kitchen expecting his good morning blow job before I left for work.
I never refused him. I doubt I ever will.
We often talked about our Fourth of July in the Adirondacks. It was clear, we would both cherish the
memory of he four days when we could behave like a couple in public. Every time Robert discussed
seeing me climax on horseback, with the 'ben wa balls' banging away inside my vagina, he would get
aroused.
He did talk me into renting a motorcycle one Saturday. We drove along Shore Road with me clinging
to Robert on the back of the Harley, the 'ben wa balls' clicking and clacking inside me, and the
vibration of the two-cycle motor sending waves of pleasure through me.
Once I started cumming, I could not stop. I just hung on, clinging to Robert as climax after climax
quaked through my core. I was begging for him to stop, to let me come down, but he drove on. I
actually think I had a ten minute orgasm! By the time he finally pulled off the expressway and let me
dismount, I was shaking and dizzy.
I lost count, but I swear I had seven or eight orgasms on the back of the motorcycle before he let me
stop. I still get wet just thinking about that afternoon.
Yes, Robert’s creativity, sexual energy and endurance was of mythical proportions. I know he was
nineteen, actuallyhe turned twenty in early August, but even on an ‘age adjusted basis’ he had more
stamina and drive than anyone I have ever heard about either personally or from literature. Robert
continued to tell me it was me that inspired this level of performance. Despite all my misgivings about
the nature of our relationship, I found his attention and sexual prowess deeply emotionally fulfilling on
some level. But my massive guilt did not abate.
By the end of the work week, I would actually feel sleep deprived; having been awakened multiple
times in the wee hours of the morning by Robert's massive boner. At least two, sometimes three
times during a week, Robert would take me between one o'clock and four o'clock in the morning,
leaving my vagina sloppy with his semen oozing out of me.
I loved it. It was flattering to be the center of his sexual universe, but it was exhausting as well. I knew
it would end soon with his return to college so I endured the fatigue, and enjoyed the attention.
I came to accept the fact that for him, this was beautiful and proper; and nothing I could ever do we
change his mind. For me, it was a matter of dealing with a clear mistake in judgment I had made at
the beginning of the summer in a manner that minimized additional harm to my stepson and our
relationship.
Yes, the enormously sensual pleasure of our carnal relationship was exciting and satisfying, but, on
some deep level, I honestly believe I would have given all that up if I could return to a time when I
was not sleeping with, and being fucked by my stepson.
Perhaps I was being naïve. Perhaps, if given the choice, I would have chosen the love, affection and
carnal pleasure that Robert and I shared. Who knows?
About a week before he was scheduled to fly back to the West Coast and return to college, Robert
asked, “Mom, now that the summer is almost over, do you still think what we having been doing is
wrong? Do you still regret us becoming intimate?”
“Robert, I have enjoyed our intimacy more than you can imagine. You have stirred emotions in me
that I did not know existed. You have given me pleasure that I did not think was possible. And you
have touched me in places I did not know I had….literally, you have touched me more deeply than I
thought possible”.
Robert smiled at the last comment indicating the pun was not lost on him. I paused and then
continued, “But baby, yes, I do think what we did was wrong. I do regret letting this happen. I regret
not having more control and more restraint than to have let this ‘cat out of the bag’ in the first place.”
My comments, though truthful, obviously hurt Robert. “I wish you did not feel that way, Mom.”
“Robert, after all we have been through, all we have shared and all we have done, I feel that above all
we need to be honest with ourselves. And I fear that our intimacy will harm you; if not today, some
day. I fear that the events of this summer will interfere with you having the relationships you deserve
as a grown man. I fear that our relationship, while being very close and caring, lacks the innocence
that a relationship between a mother and stepson should.”
I took his hands in mine, and said, “And I am so very sorry for any pain any of this ever causes you.”
“Mom, you did not do anything wrong. In fact, you never had a chance. It was me, not you, who made
this happen. I was the only one who could have stopped this.”
“No, I am the adult…” I started to interrupt.
Robert stopped me, “Mom, no disrespect, but as intelligent and assertive as you are at work; you are
submissive in relationships. Once I realized that you really could not say 'no', that you could not resist
a strong malefor whomyou had strong feelings, I knew I could have you if I wanted. And I wanted you.
You never had a chance.”
After several moments of silence, Robert asked, “Mom, do you think something can be wrong and still
be beautiful?”
I pondered his question for several moments before responding, “Perhaps it can. I do not know. I
need to think about that. But that does seem to describe what we have been doing.”
To this day, I wonder if Robert is right; did I ever have a chance to avoid this situation? And I still
ponder whether something could be both wrong and beautiful.
I remember that night, after that conversation, we retired to my bed and we made deep, passionate
love before falling asleep in each other's arms. Yes, I knew I would miss Robert when he returned to
school.
Robert’s last night of summer
Robert was due to leave tomorrow morning at 8:15 a.m. He called me at work asking if I could get off
a little early tonight. I said, “Sure honey, I will try.”
I was nervous, anxious, sad and relieved all at once about Robert’s pending departure. I did not know
what the future held, but we had survived the summer with our relationship intact; actually, we
appeared to have strengthened our relationship. Would it last? Who could tell? I would miss him
terribly, of that I was sure.
I got home a bit earlier than usual, and was met at the door by Robert who handed me a glass of
merlot. Entering the hallway to the living room, I immediately knew Robert had been busy, and tonight
would be special.
The room was darkened except for about a dozen strawberry scented Yankee candles. On the floor,
in front of the couch were the comforter from my bed, covered neatly with a sheet, and several
pillows. Robert had moved a portable heat lamp into the room as well. The DVD player was playing
one of my relaxation CDs, ‘ocean sounds’, which was the sound of waves against a background of
soft, romantic music.
Before I could enter the living room, Robert took my suit jacket and hung it up. I caught a fragrance
that was very familiar, but at first I could not place. Glancing into the kitchen, I could see a pan
heating on my stove, and I realized the aroma was coming from this pan of baby oil which Robert was
warming. It was clear that Robert planned to make our last night special. God, I loved that boy, even if
I had showed it in unconventional ways.
Robert guided me to the living room couch, where he sat me down with my glass of wine, and took
my foot and slowly removed my dress boot. I was instantly reminded of the evening of our second
coupling when Robert removed my boots while his penis was still throbbing inside me following a
beautiful orgasm. The memory made my vagina spasm momentarily, and I could feel myself growing
moist at the very thought of that evening. That was a good memory. I cherish it to this very day.
After removing my one boot, Robert raised my leg and peered directly at my panty covered crotch,
stared, moaned softly, and said, “You are so very beautiful, mom. I love you so much.” I wanted to
reach up and hug him, but with him holding me leg up like that, I could not. So Ijust leaned back to
bask in the loving attention and admiration of my son.
Robert slowly massaged my foot, calf and leg for several minutes, gently running his hands up my
inner thigh occasionally to touch my ever moistening pussy through the gusset of my panties. God, he
was a sexy and sensuous man. I finished my glass of wine as he massaged my leg, and set the
empty glass on the table next to the couch. Robert stopped, released my leg and got up to get me
another glass.
He returned quickly, handed me my second glass of wine, and took my other foot and slowly removed
my other boot, repeating the touching and caressing on my other leg, and paying even greater
attention to my now aroused pussyeach time hestroked up my inner thigh. I was involuntarily rocking
my hips in a state of arousal, anxious to be touched more intimately, and loved completely.
I finished my second glass of Merlot, and set it down, feeling just the perfect level of alcohol so that I
had no inhibitions, and I could bury any guilt I might still harbor for the evening. Robert got up, and
started for the kitchen. I tried to stop him, “Robert, come back. I don’t need any more wine.”
“Okay, mom. I am just going to get the warm baby oil from the stove.”
He returned with the sauce pan and a kitchen towel. He folded the towel on the coffee table and
placed the sauce pan on top of it. The he took my hand, stood me up and removed my skirt, blouse,
and bra; leaving me with only my very moist panties. Robert guided me to lay on my stomach on the
sheet atop the comforter on the floor.
Robert turned on the heat lamp, and quickly I felt the warmth radiating from above on my naked back
and legs. I was very aroused already. And so was Robert; he removed his tee shirt, and had just his
gym shorts on. His penis stuck out from the waist band of his shorts by at least three inches. He
looked into my eyes as he removed his gym shorts, freeing his beautiful cock, allowing it to stand
freely in front of him. I looked over my shoulder trying to commit this image of my stepson to memory
since I certainly could not put this picture in the family album.
Robert kneeled beside me, and placed a small amount of the warm baby oil on my back.
I pulled my hair up, away from my back, giving Robert complete access to my shoulders.
Thewarm baby oil feltexquisite as he massaged my back and shoulders. Robert tooktime to reach
around under me to caress the sides of my breast as he worked his way down my sides. I would raise
myself up slightly to allow him to contact my erect nipples each time his hands moved towards the
sides of my breast. Robert would gently tweak my nipple before continuing with the massage. I was in
heaven.
Robert moved down and started at my calves, working his way up my thigh. When he got to the top of
my thighs, he took hold of panties as I raised my hips to allow him to remove them. I was now naked
in front of my son, basking in the warmth of the heat lamp, responding to his touch, with my mood
assisted by a slight alcohol induced “buzz.” I was enjoying a feeling of contentment I cannot describe.
Robert began touching my pussy, which by now was aroused, open and wet. He bypassed the slow,
one finger introduction I was used to, and inserted two fingers immediately without any resistance
from my vagina walls. I was already aroused enough to accommodate both his large probing fingers. I
moaned into the pillow with ecstatic pleasure and he massaged the front wall of my vagina, touching
my g-spot, as he done so many times over our summer of intimacy.
I placed one of the pillows under my abdomen as I pulled myself up into a slight kneeling position to
allow me to rock my hips and arch my back into his probing fingers. I was going to cum any moment
just from his touch, I could feel it building inside of me. I buried my face into another one of the pillows
asmoaning loudly, as I felt my orgasm beginning to build.
And then he stopped and suddenly withdrew his fingers. I continue to rock my hips, humping at air in
frustrated anticipation. I expected, and hoped, that Robertwould climb behind me and penetrate me
doggy style to finish me off bypounding me from behind. But he did not.
Instead, he got up, moved one of the straight backed wooden chair from the kitchen into the living
room and quickly retrieved a package from behind the couch. ‘What the hell was he up to?’ I
wondered.
“Robert, please don’t stop, honey. I am so close. Come make love to me.” I pleaded in frustration, I
looked back at him as I remained on ‘all fours,’ ready andwilling to be taken by my stepson from
behind. I started to beg him to come back and 'fuck me good, fuck me one last time,' but I knew that
tonight was his night; he planned everything out, and I would go along with his plan.
I looked over my shoulder and watched as he removed a large suction based, phallic shaped vibrator
from a plastic bag. I looked at Robert with my best 'WTF look.'
The vibrator was huge. I later discovered it waseight inches long, and overtwo inches thick. It
wasbright red with an oversized head, thickly veined down the sides, with a large suction cup for the
base.
Robert twisted the base and the device sprung to life buzzing and vibrating, rather loudly I might add.
The suddenness of the sound startled me. He then turned it off after he got my attention.
“What is that for?” I questioned, really quite concerned about where this ‘plan’ was heading. Actually,
I knew that both Robert's plan wasthat the large device was heading up my tight pussy; and I was
pretty sure that device was not going to fit!
“Mom, we are going to teach you how to please yourself when I am not here to take care of things for
you.”
Robert then placed the large red vibrating dildo on the wooden, straight back chair from the kitchen.
The suction cup held it in place standing straight up. Its size was intimidating; or accurately
frightening.
“Baby, that’s not going to fit inside me.” I was clearly alarmed, in fact, I was scared.
"Mom, you have taken all of me. I am that big.”
I looked at thetwo inch thick, big red dick stickingeight inches above the seat of the chair for a
moment, and I turned to my son and said, “No baby, I don’t think you are. You are a very well
endowed man, very well endowed. But son, that thing is huge. I am not a big woman. I think we need
to start out with a toy that is a little more reasonable in size.”
I realize by calling Robert ‘son’ instead of ‘baby’ I was taking a more serious, more authoritative tone.
For a moment it dawned on me, that I never took this tone to discourage Robert went was first trying
to seduce me, and get in my panties at the beginning of the summer. No, at that time it was ‘baby, we
can’t do this…..’. I guess I never did try to dissuade him from pushing forward at all, did I?
But now I had a more immediate and urgent problem, I did not think I could accommodate that huge
toy in my rather tiny pussy; and if I did, my pussy might never be the same.
“Nonsense,” Robert said with confidence. “This will fit just fine.” And Robert twisted the base of “big
red, it started to buzz loudly.
I suddenly remembered something else even more critical. “Robert, I can’t do this right now. I have
my diaphragm in place.”
“Does that matter, mom?”
“Oh baby, that thing is so huge, it could damage the diaphragm.”
“Well, mom, take out your diaphragm.”
“Robert, if I do, I need you to promise me that you will not enter me until I have it back in place.”
Robert smiled, “Mom, I promise you, I will not enter you until you can put it back in place. I really
mean it. This is for you. Honest.”
Okay, this was important to my son; so I decided to give it a go. Hell I have never been able to say
'no' to Robert and stick with it on any subject. I squatted down and removed the diaphragm, and
placed it end table next to the couch. The large volume of spermicidal jelly remaining in its concave
belly. There was still a fairly large volume of spermicidal jelly up inside my belly as well.
Robert handed me a tube of K-Y jelly. "Here mom, put some of this on your inner lips. It will help you
take 'big red'."
I never had to use artificial lubrication before. Certainly not with Robert. Robert has had my pussy
gushing all summer. But looking at the size of large red phallus buzzing on the chair, I decided I need
all the help I could get.
I squeezed a large dollop of the clear gel on to my finger tips, squatted slightly and placed the
lubricating gel at the opening of my vagina and up inside me. I handed the tube back to Robert, took
a deep breath and took a few steps towards the very intimidating toy on the chair.
But as I approached the vibrating device, I realized there was yet another problem with ‘geometry’;
onethat Robert had not anticipated. The vibrating head was far too high for me to mount from the
floor. I was not nearly tall enough to straddle the damn thing in place, on the chair.
Robert tried to have me stand on the chair seat and lower myself down, while he steadied the chair.
But it was far too unsteady, and there was no way for me to lower myself on this enormous device
without truly ripping my pussy in two. And the scene of me trying was neither sexy nor graceful, I
realized.
I climbed down off the chair. “Baby, this just is not going to work. I can’t climb on that damn thing
without really hurting myself. And I mean really hurting myself, baby.”
As I spoke, I realized, now that I was back to attempting to comply with Robert’s instruction, I had
returned to calling him ‘baby.’ I was back in compliance and submissive mode. I was learning some
things about myself.
Robert stood and studied the situation for a second, and then his face lit up. “If Mohammad won’t
come to the mountain…” he said in a moment of epiphany. I saw no reason to correct his obvious
misquote here, I had more pressing concerns.
After wrestling the vibrator free of the chair with a loud 'pop', Robert took me and the vibrator back to
the couch. He laid me back, pushed my heels back towards my ass and spread my knees apart.
“Mom, hold yourself open for me.”
"What are you planning to do?" I asked with obvious concern. While I wanted to comply with Robert's
desires, I also was very concerned with hurting myself.
"Mom, we'll get the vibratorinside you first, then have you walk over to the chair and I'll teach you how
to cum without me here."
He sounded so very confident this would work. However, I was pretty apprehensive myself. But I
decided to comply, as I almost always do with my stepson's requests.
I reached down, and pulled my vaginal lips open as instructed, realizing that I had lost all semblance
of modesty around my stepson. I was opening myself up in the most obscene manner possible for
Robert’s gaze and pleasure.He placed the head of the huge device at my opening and started to
slowly work it in and out, penetrating me about a inch at a time.
“Oh, Robert, be careful. I don’t know if I can do this baby,” I cried out. There was a real sense of panic
in my voice. The size of the head definitely scared me a bit. It simply felt too big.
“Not too fast, baby, go slow. My God. I don’t think it is going fit, baby.”
The huge head was stretching me wide open. Maybe, it was because of the texture of the unyielding
plastic head just created more friction than a real penis. Maybe it was simply larger than Robert was.
Maybe, because I was scared,I simply was not as open, lubricated and aroused as I had been when
Robert was fingering me moments before. But, regardless, I was struggling to accept this enormous
device in my vagina.
It was stretching me to the point that I did not know if I could take it. I felt something between
discomfort and pain as my vulva was being stretched apart. Part of me wanted to ask Robert to stop
before he tore my vagina; but much more of me wanted to do this for my stepson. I wanted to accept
his present inside me.
“Baby, just go easy. You don’t want to tear mommy’s pussy on the last day of summer.”
I reached around under my legs and pulling myself open as Robert continued the slow assault on my
pussy. “Baby, I don’t thinkmy pussy will ever be the same again after you get that thing in me.”
I really meant ‘if’ you get that inside me.
At the same time, there was something arousing about struggling to accept this vibrating demon up
inside me.
Then Robert started twisting the dildo slightly as he moved it in and out of me. Suddenly, almost
magically, my vagina spasmed, and the large head seemed to pass a tight restriction at the very
mouth of pussy and slid about two or three inches deeper inside me. I must have dilated a bit more;
more than I ever had before.
The twisting motion and the vibrations worked together and I began to start to respond. Once past the
first restriction in my vagina, I was far more open and the vibrating head felt good on my inner walls.
“Oh, baby, that’s it. I think we did it! I think you made it past my opening. It is starting to feel good.” I
pushed myself down against Robert’s thrusts. After his initial ‘break through’, deeper penetration
seemed easier, and enjoyable. My natural lubrication coupled with the K-Y gelmade the stretching of
my tight little pussy enjoyable rather than painful as I had feared moments ago
I started to moan and hump back as Robert began to stroke longer deeper strokes in and out of my
fully dilated vagina. I felt an orgasm building when Robert stopped fucking me with the dildo, leaving it
vibrating in place. “Oh baby, please don’t stop. I am almost there,” I pleaded.
But Robert pulled me forward, pulling me almost into a sitting position, I was forced to reach down
and grab the large dildo to keep it from shooting out of me on to the living room floor. Glancing
between my legs, I could see more than three inches of this monster still sticking out of me, indicating
I had taken less that five inches or so of this red 'monster dick,' yet, I felt so very, very full.
As he pulled me to a standing position, I struggled, not to hurt myself by driving the toy too deep, too
fast. Standing up, bowlegged, I continued to hold the vibrating tool in place as Robert walked me to
the chair which he instructed me to straddle. The vibrator slid out of me slightly. Robert reached
between my legs and affixed the suction cup to the seat of the chair as I straddle the chair per
Robert’s directions.
I was now astride the chair, leaving me with the device deep inside of me. I slowly began to raise and
lower myself to push it in and out of me. I started moving up and down only about two inches. I felt
the strain of my inner thighs as I slowly started fucking Robert’s present. I was glad I was in shape. I
was very glad I had spend all the time I at the gym on the stair-stepper that I had.
I stood up as high as I could, but that still left about 3 to 4 inches of this huge vibrating phallus inside
of me. Then I would lower myself as quickly and far as I dared. Each plunge downward evoked
another involuntary grunt. But each plunge down gave me a shot of pleasure deep into my womb that
encouraged me to try to go a little faster, and a little deeper next time.
“God mom, you are taking so much of that inside you. You are so damn sexy, mom. I love you. I love
you. Thank you for doing this for me.”
My baby knew I was fucking this huge toy for him. And I was going to make myself cum for him. And I
was going to show that him I could; that I could fuck this hue toy and cum on it.
I was determined to make this happen for both Robert and me. I lowered myself as far as I could,
pushing down with a guttural grunt. “Oh baby this thing is so big. Do you have any idea how deep this
thing is stuck inside your mommy’s pussy?”
“Tell me how deep, mom. How deep is it inside you?” His penis was arching forward in a throbbing
motion, indicating that he found this very stimulating. And as always, his excitement increased mine.
I pointed to my abdomen,an inch or twoabove my navel.
"Baby, I feel the head all the way up here!"
Robert’s penis pulsed as I pointed to my belly.
“Baby, come here. Let momma help you with that.” Balancing myself by placing my hands between
legs, pushing down on the wooden seat which the vibrator’s suction cup was attached to give me
leverage as I rode myself closer and closer to orgasm with each plunge.
Robert walked over to me and presented me with the finest penis, the most beautiful erection I will
ever see. Holding his stiff rod with one hand, as I continued to balance myself with my other hand, I
took his rigid penis into my mouth as I pushed as deep as I could the vibrator.
“God mom, you are taking that entire vibrator.”
“ I know baby.” I moaned as I pulled his erection into my mouth. I started bouncing more rapidly and
more violently, sensing my orgasm was imminent and, at this point, unavoidable. I was going to cum
for my boy, there was no stopping me now. Each stroke caused me to groan loudly around Robert’s
penis which was pulsing on my tongue and lips.
“Oh, baby, I am cumming,” I said taking Robert from my mouth just long enough to convey the
message. It must of have been the excitement of my orgasm that triggered Robert’s.
“Oh God, mom, so am I, mom.”
I felt and tasted the first of a series of eruptions from Robert’s throbbing penis. I sucked, and I
swallowed, and I sucked some more as I continued to impaled myself as deeply as I could on ‘big
red’. I felt like I was placing my entire weight on this vibrator, pushing it as deep as it would go. There
was simply no more room in my pussy. I was bottomed out.
I swallowed three times and Robert’s penis was still dribbling his semen into my mouth. I continued to
softly suck him in order to not lose a drop. I realized that the only semen I had ever tasted was from
my stepson’s loins. I had not allowed any other man to ejaculate in my mouth. I doubted I knew
anyone else who could make that claim.
With my breasts heaving and while holding Robert’s penis by my face, I stoppedbouncing up and
down, and I asked, “OK, Robert, how do I get off this thing?”
“Lean forward and break the suction.” I did as Robert instructed, leaned forward and the suction cup
released with a large ‘pop.’ I caught the vibrator as it squirted out of me and fell forward between my
legs.
Robert came over, led me to the comforter on the floor, and laid me down. With my legs bent, Robert
placed my heels back towards my ass and gently spread my knees. He bent forward and gently
kissed and then sucked my clitoris. I was very sensitive, having just cum, “Baby, be gentle, I am too
sensitive right there. Just fuck me, baby.”
I looked down and saw his penis throbbing up and down, and I pulled him forward. Even though he
had just cum, he remained rigidly hard.
He entered me easily, my pussy still wet, aroused and dilated from the vibrator. Robert’s huge cock
met little or no resistance. I wrapped my legs around his midsection as he slowly, and lovingly fucked
me. He was growing firmer as he stroked in and out of me slowly, and I was enjoying the loving
sensations he was creating inside me.
As I pulled him close for a kiss, I happened to glanced over, and there on the table… OMG!
“Oh shit, Robert,… shit, shit, shit… baby, you have to pull out.” I said in a panic, having seen my
diaphragm on the end table. “Baby, please, pull out, I need to put my diaphragm back in place.”
Robert stopped mid stroke, puzzled at first, then realizing what I was saying. He suddenly got a
strange smile and just remained motionless for one or two seconds. “Say pretty please…”
“Pretty please, Robert, pull your dick out of me now!” I really was not amused.
Robert chuckled and, after a moment, did just that; he withdrew from me as my pussy made a loud
slurping sound as he exited me, trying to hold him in place. “Had you nervous, didn’t I?” he quipped.
“As a matter of fact, yes, you did a little bit. You little shit.” Said as I got up and retrieved the
diaphragm and inserted it.
“Now come here and finish what you started, young man.” as I leaned back in my most provocative
pose, legs apart. Robert climbed back into position, and entered me. Robert stroke in and out of me
for a long time. Having just cum in my mouth, he had no urgency in reaching another orgasm this
quickly. He made slow, gentle love to me fortwenty to thirtyminutes as I wrapped my legs around him
and ‘spurred him on’ with my heels on his ass.
As he fucked me, it dawned on me that he was leaving in the morning. This could be the last time we
made love. I started to cry silently. As he climaxed one last time.
We slept in each others' arms.
We awoke, and I accompanied him to LaGuardia airport. Robert hugged me deeply and then headed
for security. I was crying quietly as he walked away. I knew then, as I know now, I will never have this
level love, tenderness or intimacy with anyone else no matter how long I live. The summer was over,
and we had survived, but I had a profound sense of loss and loneliness at that moment.
Epilogue:
Yes, when Robert left, I was filled with an incredible sense of loneliness, and loss. There was a
profound emptiness in my life, and in my bed. Certainly, I missed the sexual excitement and pleasure;
but I missed sharing my bed with him and cuddling through the night even more. I tried to meet my
sexual needs through masturbation; however, my libido dropped dramatically, I was able to achieve
limited success with my own hand.
I was pleased that Robert resumed his schoolwork without any problems. He and I would talk on the
phone weekly. I learned that Robert was dating several young women at school. His grades were
good and everything seemed to have stabilized for him nicely.
Every Friday evening, Robert would call me and try to engage me in phone sex using the vibrator he
gave me and the hands free headset. Robert, like most young males could “spank the monkey” under
almost any circumstance with success. On the other hand, (literally), it would take several glasses of
wine to get me to relax enough to even consider mounting ‘big red’ and even with Robert’s
encouragement and my best efforts over the hands free headset, my ability to achieve an orgasm
was a rare occurrence.
One Friday night, Robert instructed me to get my laptop and set it up on the table next to the chair
where the vibrating dildo was to be attachedattached. He directed me to and told me to search for
'James Deen fucks mature woman.' It wasa thirty nine minute clip showing a gorgeous redhead and
her younger lover.
I hit pause; went to the couch while wearing the headset. I inserted the vibrator while telling Robert
precisely how wide I was being stretched. I waddled over to the chair, affixed the vibrator and hit play.
"Mom, who do the actors in the movie remind you of?"
"Oh my god, it looks like you and me. Her hair is red, but the way they are making love... it's like I am
watching a video of you and me."
I came quickly that evening, fantasizing that Robert was doing to me precisely what James Deen
was doing to the beautiful woman on the screen.
But as I said, more often than not, I was not able to achieve orgasm over the phone with Robert.
On a few otheroccasions, when I seemed to be at the peak of my cycle and my libido was at its
height, and Robert was verbally arousing me with memories of our most cherish and sensual
encounters, I did cum. And while very enjoyable, it still left me feeling a bit empty and unfulfilled.
Robert certainly enjoyed our verbal long distance foreplay, and was disappointed when I could not
achieve an orgasm during these games. In fact, I got in the habit of doing something I had never
down previously, I occasionally faked orgasms on the phone with my stepson.
I felt that my inability to cum might be my punishment for the sins I committed with Robert this
summer. In truth, I would have accepted that fate as my punishment; however, I feared that
ultimately, my punishment could be much, much worse. Some of you might think this fear of
punishment is silly; but I havetwelve years of Catholic education where the nuns indoctrinated me into
the concept of sin, guilt and punishment. And it was in that context that I viewed the world and my
many sins.
One day, a few weeks before the holidays, following a failed attempt to get me to climax over the
phone, Robert directed me to another internet porn site that had volumes of stories on various sexual
variations. “Mom, I found an interesting internet site that I want you to visit, I want you to read some of
the stories on taboo sex. It may put what we did, what we shared in a more appropriate context. It
may help you realize that we are not as unique, not as perverted as you seem to think.”
After much discussion and at Robert’s insistence, I agreed to visit the site. There was a whole list of
various sexual deviations listed. I really did not know such sites existed. There were categories of
stories on bondage, wife swapping, exhibitionism, lesbian stories, gay stories, love stories, and
stories about toys and devices. And yes, there was section on taboo sex. Most of the stories dealt
with father-stepdaughter, or stepbrother-stepsister relationships. Some were well written, most were
not.
I was a bit surprised at both the number of stories and the interest this taboo subject seemed to
garner. And while some of the better written stories were stimulating, my attempts to masturbate to
them were still not successful.
Next time when we spoke, Robert asked if I had visited the site, I said that I had.
“You see mom, there are a lot of people out there in the same situation as us. There are a lot of
people who have relationships similar to ours.”
“Robert, those stories are fiction. They are somebody’s fantasy. These things did not actually happen.
They are very different than what we actually did. Even the site itself says that they are all fiction, all
fantasy.”
Robert was slow to answer, “Are you sure about that, Mom? Are you sure that these stories are all
fiction? Don’t some of the better written ones ring kind of true? Do you think someone could make up
all that stuff if none of it happened?”
I still was not convinced, but I had to concede, I did not know what was fact and what was fiction; and
I still do not.
About a month later, Robert made a peculiar request, “Mom, I want you to do something for me, for
us. I want you to write our story and submit it to Lush Stories. I want you to write it as accurately and
truthfully as you can.”
After much prodding, I agreed to think about it. In subsequent conversations, Robert asked me
several more times if I had started on our story. I told him honestly, that I had made some attempts,
but I just could not bring myself to write our story, at least not yet. I promised that I would continue to
consider the idea, and that if I ever got to the emotional place where I could pen our story, I would.
Update:
It was June 2012, when that fateful night occurred and I stumbledupon Robert masturbating in my
living room. I do not seem to be able to remember my relationship with Robert before that date very
well. Robert is due to graduate this May, and his life seems to be heading towards a perfect ‘story
tale’ ending. He is engaged to a wonderful young woman, named Elizabeth. I met Elizabeth this past
Christmas when Robert came to visit. I gave them my bedroom, and I slept on the couch for theeight
days they were here.
As you might expect, with Robert’s fiancé here, Robert and I were never physically intimate during his
visit. I truly am glad for that fact, and for the fact that he seems happy and in love with this fine young
lady. I must confess, before Robert’s arrival, I did resume taking the pill and I had my diaphragm in
place each night in the unlikely event that Robert tried to pay me a midnight visit. These precautions
proved unnecessary. Is it possible to feel sad and happy about the same development? I did.
After Robert left, I decided to complete the writing of our story, as Robert requested. It feels like
writing this allows me to close this chapter of my life. I allowed Robert to read and review my writing;
he made some comments, which I have included.
I must confess, it has taken a long time to complete this autobiographical story of my sin. It has been
emotionally draining to do so. I have cried while type, and I have become aroused. There were times
that I felt compelled to stop writing and masturbate to relieve my level of arousal and frustration.
So as I finish this story, I dedicate it to my stepson, Robert, whommore deeply than ever. I hope and
pray that he finds happiness, and I pray that I can be forgiven for my weaknesses and sins.
Nonetheless, these are cherished memories for me, and they always will be.
Robert’s comments:
Since Mom wrote this at my encouragement, and insistence, she allowed me to read and comment
on it before finalizing 'our story'. I do not know if Mom will ever submit this story for wider reading, but
I hope she does. If she does, I do not know if she will include my comments. But these comments are
written more for her than they are for other readers. So I will break this into two parts, one to my
mom, and one to the readers, if mom ever decides to publish this work (which I hope she does.)
Notes to Mom:
Mom, I think you captured the events that you and I shared very accurately. And you managed to
understand much of my frame of mind very well. You are correct, I never did, and still do not, think
there was anything wrong, evil or sick about the beautiful moments and experiences you and I
shared.
On the other hand, I think you have been far too hard on yourself. You neither initiated any of these
events, nor could you have stopped them even if you tried. And yes, many times you tried. I have
tried to make you understand this over the past two years, so now I will try in writing. Maybe if you
have some time to read and re-read my thoughts and feelings you will begin to accept them as true.
You are the most beautiful, giving and loving woman I have ever known (including my fiancé whom I
adore). You do not have it in yourself to deny those you love any affection.
When I arrived at your apartment in June, two years ago, I knew I was going to push the boundaries
with you all summer. I did not l know how successful I would be, but I had plotted, in my own mind,
several plans to share some level of sexual experiences with you. The masturbation on the couch,
and what followed was just one of many plans I had hatched.
I should not have done it, but I could not fight my obsession. Yes, I was obsessed with you. The only
way you could have kept me ‘in line' would have been to become so harsh with your admonishments,
that you would have felt that you were jeopardizing our relationship; and this was something I knew
you could not do.
You have often asked me if I had any regrets as you spoke of yours. I have always told you that I had
none. That is not entirely true. I regret not being more sensitive to the guilt you might experience as I
pushed you into a physical relationship that you did not seek. I convinced myself that the sexual
pleasure I gave you was sufficient justification for the minor pangs of guilt you experienced. I knew
what I wanted, and I rationalized everything else. I guess that’s what k**s do, huh? They typically do
not think too much about how their actions will affect their parents. So I am sorry I was not more
considerate of your needs.
I love you very much. I really do believe I love you even more deeply and on more levels because of
the intimacy we shared. And I will treasure those most intimate moments.
To the readers (if you ever see this):
I know you probably think I am a selfish jerk. Honestly, you are not far wrong, at least I was. In my
defense, what teenager isn’t? And what teenage boy does not convince himself that providing the
object of his affections with sexual pleasure and sexual fulfillment is adequate to offset any emotional
harm he may cause her? Yes, we are all jerks. Some of us grow to be decent men, but we all start
out as jerks.
The difference is that, in most cases, the object of our affections is not our stepmother. Or at least we
do not actively pursue our mothers or stepmothers as I did. But I did, and do I love her. I loved her
deeply and my pressuring her sexually really was an expression of my love. It was also an immature,
selfish way to express my love, but make no mistake, I felt as deep and passionate love for her as
any man could feel for any woman. And I still do.
My life is going very well. My intimacy with my mother has not harmed me in any way. I will graduate
from college in May. I am now engaged to a wonderful girl. We plan to be married this summer. She
is a sophomore in electrical engineering at USC. Elizabeth is intelligent, beautiful, witty, charming and
athletic. And she is tall; unlike my mother who is something under 5 ft. 4 inches,Elizabeth is 5 ft. 11
inches. (So I am not marrying a look-a-like model of my mom!)
I chose not to tellElizabeth about my experience with mom. I do not think I ever will. Keeping this from
Liz does trouble me in the context that she has been so open with me. I have wondered why despite
Liz sharing her experience with me, I am reluctant to share my experience with mom with Liz.
Liz has share with me that herfirst experience with a penis was her stepbrother's. And she does not
regret learning about her body and the male body from her stepbrother. Yet I have not shared with
her the experience that Mom and I shared.
I am not sure I understand why?
I have some theories. One is that it is so precious a memory that I want to keep it only for mom and
me. Another is that I fear that ifElizabeth knew about my intimacy with mom, it might interfere withLiz
and mom forming a relationship, orLiz might feel threatened by mom. In event, I believe thatthis is a
part of me that will remain strictly between mom and me. (So you can relax, mom!)
During the Christmas visit, mom and I did not have any opportunity to be alone and be intimate. Who
knows what opportunities will exist in the future? But I will admit, mom’s comments that she will
resume taking the pill, and have her diaphragm in place during Elizabeth’s and my next visit pleases
me; a lot. I like the fact that mom does not quite know when and where I will get her the next time.
Robert.
Rest assured, I will make love to her again; at the very first opportunity. Robert.
Safiya
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