This choice: Emma and Johny begin their descent into incestuous romance together • Go Back...Chapter #6Emma and Johny begin their descent into incestu... by: pixie   Emma was surprised by the vigor behind her son's hands, grasping her body, clutching at her needfully, pulling himself against her breasts, her belly, her thighs. His fingers found the mass of her buttocks and squeezed them, tracing his fingertips along the clefts beneath her cheeks.
Her bottom was much fuller than it had been when she was his age, and her belly protruded more noticeably. And her thighs had definitely thickened from years of less-than-athletic activity. Though her breasts had never grown much larger, even after giving birth. She had a pear-shaped body that she was probably as self-conscious about as any other person, but she took pride in the general shape of her ass. Since high school she knew - based on the compliments and comments of others - that she had been gifted with a pretty damn shapely butt. And feeling her own son's glutes in her palms she knew for certain that she'd passed those genes along to him.
She couldn't get enough of his butt, to be shamefully honest. She loved seeing him walk around the house in his snug-fitting jeans. She deliberately bought him briefs so his underwear would hug his derriere in a flattering way. He'd asked for regular boxers once or twice but she "forgot" and eventually he just got used to the briefs. But the best thing - her most secret, guilty pleasure - was sneaking up behind him, grasping a handful of his underwear, and yanking them up into a wedgie. He thought she was just a practical joker with a very limited repertoire, but the truth was that she loved to pull his briefs up tight between his cheeks, ideally putting them on display for her, and knowing they were pulling firmly against his balls and penis. She told herself it was just good fun, a harmless little prank for a Mother to play on her son. And she refused to allow herself to follow her train of thought any deeper than that.
But now the end result of her naughty little habit had born fruit. Not that she had ever expected it to actually happen, of course. She had never set out to deliberately seduce her own son, to addict him to the sensation of being exposed to her, to inflame his teenage lust by putting her own body lasciviously on display in front of him. Here and now, as she felt his powerful young arms around her, his lips pressed against hers and his tongue hungrily exploring her, she fully realized the trail of rewards she'd laid down for him to follow.
She had been desperately lonely, first of all. The relationships she'd attempted with other men had gone nowhere. None of the ones that excited her wanted to shoulder the responsibility of raising a teenaged boy that wasn't their own, and the ones that were willing to take on the role of father as well as husband were dull, unimaginative, and controlling disciplinarians. After enduring the hell of dating apps, Emma realized that even as lonely for romantic companionship as she had been, she was still happier living with just Johny, making decisions for themselves, and living the way they wanted to live.
But that hadn't solved her need for sensuality. The first few times she'd accidentally caught Johny in the midst of some puberty-driven self-exploration, she wrote it off as standard parenting-teenagers stuff. But he got taller, started to fill out physically, and she found herself reacting to his scent when she went into his room. At one point they were horsing around and ended up playfully wrestling with each other on the floor - she in hoodie and leggings and he in t-shirt and sweat-shorts - and they grabbed the waistband of each other's clothes and pulled, giving each other simultaneous wedgies. They both laughed, but Emma couldn't stop thinking about how it had felt, how Johny was pulling her panties up between her cheeks, pulling them so hard they slipped between her vaginal lips and rubbed against her clit. She never said anything to him about it, of course, but she was very aware of how hard he had gotten by then, and she knew that the wedgie she was giving him was only making it more engorged. As she pulled the fabric tight, she secretly hoped that she might stimulate him enough that he would prematurely ejaculate. As she lay in bed that night thinking about it, she felt deeply ashamed for having such wildly inappropriate feelings about her own son...but she also felt compelled to fondle herself while thinking of it. When the orgasm hit her through the buzzing of her wand, it began the moment she imagined what it would be like if he'd clung to her on the floor, mid-wrestling hold, and shuddered against her body, his youthful teen cock throbbing and thrusting against her, spurting his boy cream uncontrollably against her as she cradled him close, hushing him, telling him to let it all out for her.
Johny's hands rose up his mother's bare back, stroking her beneath her robe, and he brought his fingers up over her shoulders and began to pull the robe away. She aided him by shrugging out of it and felt it slip to the floor around their feet. For the second time today, Emma stood completely naked before her son, with his arms around her. She yanked his shorts down, leaving him standing in his blue Speedo, which was having difficulty containing his erection. It stretched and strained upward, gapping open in front just enough to give her a view of the thick base of his shaft. His little swimsuit briefs rode high up his hips, showing off a generous amount of cheek as the fabric gathered tightly into his buttcrack. Emma couldn't stop caressing and squeezing his buttocks, pulling him tightly against her and feeling his rigid protrusion bobbing directly against her lower belly and into her tiny thatch of dark brown pubic hair. She'd shaved nearly all of it away, leaving only a tiny triangular tuft where her sling bikini bottom had covered her.
"Mom," Johny gasped between kisses.
"I know, honey," Emma sighed. "I know. We shouldn't."
"I want to," he said breathlessly. "I've wanted to for...for a long time."
"Me, too, baby," she said, gripping the sides of his Speedo and using it to hold him tightly against her.
"But," he said, pulling back, "but I want you to...um..."
She looked into his brown eyes, so like her own and yet also reminding her of his father, back when they were young and things were still good. "Tell me, Johny," she whispered, her heart racing. "Whatever you want, you can tell me."
His face was beet red as he asked, "I want you to wear your swimsuit again. For me. I want to see you wearing it and I want to look at you in it and feel you in it."
Emma smiled at him, feeling strangely embarrassed by his request - after all, she was completely nude right now, so surely this was covering up by any measurement - but complying. She bent down, picking through her beach bag and pulling out the collection of blue strings and tiny triangular flags of fabric. Carefully she stepped into it, pulled it up, wrapped it over her nipples, laced it around, tied the strings at her hips. As she finished adjusting the bikini bottom, the tactile sensations of wearing that suit once more reminded her vividly of the scene at the swimming pool, moments before her son had accidentally untied the entire sling and left her completely nude in front of the entire crowd of teenaged girls.
She remembered the feeling of his body tensing against her as he ejaculated between her buttocks. Her face turned crimson with the humiliation of the vivid memory, but she also felt a trickle down her inner thigh from sheer arousal. She looked at Johny, standing there in her skimpy, slutty blue sling bikini, with only her firm pink nipples and tiny triangle of dark brown pubic hair covered by stretchy, shimmery fabric.
Her blushing made her look so vulnerable to him. Standing there inches away, Johny allowed himself to really look at his mother in her bikini. He ogled her openly, studying every curve and dimple and cleft of her as though he were looking at a porn star online. She felt a thrill going through her at the vulgarity of the act - serving as jerk off material for her own teenage son - but she was going to do so much more with him than just let him jerk off to her.
Flattered by the mental comparison, Emma reached out to him and unlaced his Speedo. She reached around behind him and - once again - pulled the fabric up tight between his butt cheeks. He winced, standing on his tiptoes for a moment, but she just gave him a wicked smile and reached down with her other hand to caress his taut scrotum. She traced her fingernails over his balls, tickling him intimately. The purpling crown of his cock popped free of its lycra prison, pointing directly up at his mother as it throbbed within the Speedo. She let her fingertips follow his shaft upward, making gentle strokes along the sensitive underside of his penis. His stomach, tense and taut, fluttered with the sensation, and he moaned softly.
"Oh, god," he breathed. "Mom, you look so...so fucking hot in that swimsuit. I've thought about you s-so many times, I mean, I've..." He lost his words in his embarrassment, realizing he was admitting to jerking off to her.
"I love knowing that I'm one of the girls you masturbate to," Emma said, smiling.
Johny felt his legs going weak at the knees. This was unreal. The gentle ministrations of his mother's fingers along his penis loosened his tongue further. "I love it when you give me wedgies," he confessed. "I wish you'd given me a wedgie at the pool."
Emma blushed anew, thinking of it. She pressed up against him and placed his hand at the small of her back, just at the beginning of her butt cleavage, and he gathered the strings holding her little thong up. "I wish you'd claimed me as yours in front of those girls."
Johny's cock felt like it would burst through his Speedo. "I wish I'd fucked you with all those girls watching."
Emma guided the tip of his cock to her pussy lips, pulling the fabric aside. "Fuck your Mommy as if they were here."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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