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Mother’s and Son’s making headline News.

Glancing through this morning’s newspaper, I was not surprised, yet again, to see how women are responding to their new found voice, on all matters sexual.

Usually it’s all about nudity, or infidelity, and of course school teachers, entertaining boys by not wearing her knickers and giving them a peek of her wet cunt(men get hard, we just get wet), or taking them to hotels, or her home for a complete strip-down and a good shag.

But this morning a couple of reports struck a chord with my own experiences, which I will share with you, and only because I am wet, the female equivalent of the male morning woodie, so as I perform my ambidextrous act of typing and ‘polishing my pearl’, here are the couple of headlines, that caught my eye:

1. A woman has left the internet in shock by querying whether she’s wrong to sl**p naked with her 16-year-old son on the Q&A site Quora, where it’s been viewed 500,000 times.

2. Yet we live in age when sex has never been more complicated. For young people today, sex is often first experienced alone, on a screen.
One click on the same laptop that your c***d uses for his homework and he can be bombarded with the vilest pornographic images. It’s all a far cry from the innocent first fumbles behind the bike sheds of my generation.

Sex for me has always been about the fucking. I love, as we all do, our orgasms, and through constant usage, you find you can tweak them, by altering a few variables,

1. Having a **** fantasy

2. Touching your son

2. Setting up your husband to shag someone you know, and watching it.

4. Being a slut

5. Acting out a prostitute fantasy

6. Getting caught masturbating by an uncle

I could go on and write another twenty or so, because most women think as I do. Men want sex, and it’s up to women as to whether they get it or not.

Wives and girlfriends are tested daily in our working environment, by men wanting to shag us, we know it, and usually we love the attention. Yes we get wet, masturbate in the toilets to the fantasy of letting the man do his thing to us, and as is more the case today, give him a nod, and let him loose on our lower half, while we close our eyes, and think about the orgasm.

Infidelity is the in-thing today. No husband can feel safe, now girls have found and admit to sex is good, regardless of the human being attached to the cock inside us.

As a woman and a mother, sl**ping with my son was a no brainer. Like most women we breed sons to fuck other women, assuming they are straight of course, so showing them how to please women, what buttons to press to heighten her pleasures, is part of a new womanhood, sweeping the internet, a general call to all women, to teach their sons how to fuck.

My son in his teens was a serial wanker, his bed-sheets were riven with dried cum, and running my fingers over his dried semen excited me, to know his balls had dropped and he was now entering his manhood phase, finding women attractive sexually, was like me finding a new man in my life, a second coming, (pardon the pun), and I began to feel like a girl again, being sexy and wanting him to appreciate me as a woman, then as a mother.

Driving home late one night I pulled into a well known Inn, and had dinner, then a drink. My teenage son looked taken aback, ‘Mum, you’re driving, we still have a’ways to go’, he expressed.

‘We’re staying here overnight’, I replied, ‘a nice change and a bit of fun’, I retorted. We were sharing a room, with a big double bed, and as I was driving, I looking at my young man, the idea hit me, about hitting the sack naked, and seeing what he would do.

He sat on the edge of the big bed as I flicked through the channels, ‘Do you watch adult movies’, I asked him in a matter of fact voice?

His face reddened, a cuteness made to melt the strongest of female crossed thighs, ‘Sometimes’, he mumbled.

I laughed, ‘I wash your bed linen, and I know you can’t keep your hands of yourself’.

Now his face really did redden. WE watched a movie instead, as I sat on the chair and drank myself to sl**p. I awoke when the light in the room went out, and through my long eyelashes, saw my son climb back into bed, naked, as I lay still in my sl**p mode.

I could hear my own heart pound in my chest, not because of what I witnessed, but because of the potential that lay ahead. Eight years had passed since I last lay in bed with a man, and I suddenly had that urge to enjoy the experience of feeling him come up against my naked body, and enter me.

I lay quietly watching the dark shapes take on form as my eyes became accustomed to the darkness in the room.

Darkness also heightens your other senses, sounds for instance, become amplified, and listening to your son masturbate, a few meters from you in that darkness, triggers a response, if your that type of woman, which I was, so I made my move.

I made a big deal of waking up, looking around in the darkness, acting mystified, before getting up and pulling the d****s open to let the street lighting offer a back-light to my undressing.

I knew my son was watching, as he had been masturbating when I awoke, and now he was pretend sl**ping, as I was, so now you see where I am coming from, it’s in all our natures, to take advantage of the intervening moment.

I could see myself illuminated by the dim street lighting, in the full length wall mirror, as I stood side on to the bed, and undressed.

My son would see me side silhouetted and my dark profile would help remove the f****y thing, as he would view me as a woman, before sliding in between the sheets naked, with my back to him, then it was nurture versus nature, and I knew which one I wanted, as my ass was bent towards him.

I reached behind me and touched him, not intimately, but a touch just the same, a small bridge of human connectivity as my hand lay on his stomach, fingers spread, and I let my heavy breathing sound as if I was drifting into the land of nod.

I drew my hand back to myself, going downwards, coming into contact with his cock, and nuzzling into my pillow as if asl**p. I settled down waiting, my body alive and in torture, being asl**p would give him courage to want to explore the woman in me, and again, the darkness allowed him to ignore our relationship.

I could feel him start to stroke himself at my back. So I was right, my nudity was exciting him, and I was happy he was thinking about me in that way. I would let him play a little more, as I selfishly wanted a fuck, I ached to be fucked, and I was paying for this experience.

I had of course experienced this sort of thing way back when I was just a girl sl**ping with my grandfather. Back then he pushed in behind me and made contact, and I held him in my thighs as he came.

For me it was a wondrous experience, and the nights that followed, it was I who reached for granddad, and put him there, cupping his cock glans in my hand and pressing him hard into my vagina, feeling the warmth of his semen around my labia, was the signal to sl**p.

Now the generations had moved on one cycle, and here I was again with my back to a hard cock, my buttocks yearning to wrap themselves around him, my cunt wanting to be filled, and then it happened.

The initial contact was slight, then it was repetitive, still slight but he was masturbating and just barely touching my ass cheeks, but as the side bed table clock ticked, he inched forward, fractionally millimetre by millimetre, until he stopped wanking it.

It was pushing against my buttocks, resting against one cheek, along my ass crack, the heat was unbearable and pointed, my son’s cock was touching my bare ass, and I was in heaven.

He lay still, obviously panic stricken at his audacity and the new feeling of being in contact with a woman’s naked bum. I twitched my ass cheeks, then moved ever so slightly to make better contact, sending out a sound of pleasure, a soft series of ‘Mmm..’s’, meant to instil into his head, his mother was also enjoying the subconscious contact, even in her supposed sl**p, all of which, was meant to encourage him and bolster his confidence to fuck.

As you all know by now, the urge starts to prioritise the end result. All the masking and veiling, all the bullshit, is put aside as the cock looks for the soft, warm, moist cunt hole, and visa versa, like opposing poles of a magnet, they are pulled together, size, shape, colour and relationship means absolutely nothing, only the primeval urge and act of doing it takes precedence, and feeling those sensitive folds of cunt tissue spread around my son’s cock as he went inside me, brought back every man forcing his own trodden path into my body, I gasped and gagged, as I thrust back onto him, and he into me. Such pleasures, untold.

The endorphin’s after orgasm enveloped me into a wondrous sl**p, with his cock still inside me. In the morning, with the accepted shame doused with the pleasure experienced, I awoke being ploughed with an energy long lost of my own youth.

‘Good boy, good boy, give it to me’, were my words of encouragement, to bring him to his lustful ending. Climbing from granddad’s bed to pee in the potty chamber, which lay under the bed, gave granddad an excuse to open me up again, ‘Always take your woman after she has peed’, he would say to my cousins, but I would look away, in case they had other ideas.

Updated: October 21, 2016 — 1:30 pm

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