It Was Only a Damn Joke

Everyone in the story of incest and love is 18+

It was only a damn joke.

It was a damn joke; it’s 2014; I planned to get you high on your martinis and for us to dress up myself as Batman. You were to be my Robin. Putting the costume on that you and Dad bought for a Halloween party years ago, I found them cleaning out the attic for my Mom. For me, it took my timid away. My plan formed in my mind after I stuck my finger on the straight pin holding the price tag on them. There was a note of the first time they wore them to a dance together. Then, I saw us wearing them. I would get you buzzed, and we dressed up for my senior prom costume party. A simple plan to piss off my Ex-girlfriend, who dumped me a days before the party.

I guess a few details about us might make my tale a little clearer for you. I’m Donny Allan Bogart. I just turned nineteen weeks ago. I’m a senior in high school. I stand six foot two, tipping the scales at a buck eighty. Light brown hair and blue eyes like my Mom meant I had more than my share of dates. Mom is a true beauty. We lost Dad six years ago now. My hot MILF mom has put all of herself into giving me a head start in life; she never dated I wondered why. She home schooled me after Dad died by that drunk driver. The insurance settlement and term-life insurance on the mortgage gave us a cushion that said we did not have to work hard.

Mom took my C average, and I was hitting all A’s by doing eight to ten hours a day, five days a week, for five years. I took my senior year in high school after my Mom, Glenda Jo, wanted me to have social skills, so she made me take one year of high school. My Mom stood six feet with full breasts, a trim waist, and hips that dreams are made of. So what? I’m all boy, but I never told my Mom I wanted her. Glenda, my Mom, has bright red hair and blue eyes. I would get lost watching you cook or helping do chores.

I remember when Dad was here; your hair was long and light brown, but you changed it when you started my home schooling. Mom made dinner, and it was cooking; it smelled like her pot roast. I made Mom drinks while dinner cooks; she likes her martinis on the dry side. I made her first one with the top-shelf booze and a splash of the 180 and double olives; you knocked it down quickly. I made your next three with Everclear skipping the vodka and adding vermouth; it went from sixty proof to 180 proof. With your years of drinking, I thought you be fine. Your third drink was it; you called me David, your husband’s name. I turned the oven off and grabbed a ham sandwich as I ate, dressing in Dad’s Batman costume. I take the Robin outfit out to your bedroom, and I say. “Get dressed, Baby-cakes, let’s go dancing.”

I don’t know why I said that, except that was what Dad called you when he thought young ears weren’t near. Giving you the costume to put on, I thought you were going to the bathroom, but you stood up and took your things off to my wide-open eyes and mouth showed my shock. My Batman outfit got tight just watching this. I have never seen my Mom naked before; she’s not a redhead. Damn, I see where I came from. Watching all of your charms, the details are forever ingrained in my memory. I can’t stop looking at you. You had trouble with your tights.

My smoking hot mom says. “David, help your girl out; we got time for you to give me your cum? I need you, baby.”

For right or wrong, I had to say no; a drunk yes was as nasty as rape, or that’s what you have taught me over the years. No matter how much I wanted you right then.

I sighed sadly. “Sorry baby, no time; we will do it when we get home.”

I fixed your outfit, helping you with your shoes and cape. Martinis were kicking your butt, so riding my two-wheeler would be unsafe. That and Dad would drive a car he hated two wheels; why did I think like this? I drove to the school and parked, and Mom kissed me in the car. It damn near melted my face from it. You fumbled at my crotch, your hand feeling for my cock. It was impossible to get out of the costume; you had to remove the utility belt and headpiece before the outfit could be pulled down first.

I pulled you into the dance; your hands stayed on me all night. I have had girlfriends who were not anywhere this handy. You kissed me time and again; the cup of the outfit was tight on my seven-inch cock my throbbing was not helped by my hot date rubbing against me all night. I did not try to stop you, and I know I should have, but I saw the looks from every guy there and more than a few women.

My Mom says. “David, you’ve gotten better at dancing.” You kept kissing us; I mean me. I was floating on air dancing with the sexiest Robin someone called me out to dance.

My Mom pushed the other girl away and says. “Mine all mine first-night dancing since forever.”

But the main reason I did not stop my drunk Mom was getting looks of envy from my last three ex-girlfriends; they glowed green that it’s self was worth any grounding.

We were asked to leave when my hot Mom kissed me on stage and felt me up as we were up for the top three costumes. You tried to rub my hard cock the cup stopped you from getting your wish. Finally, we reached the car, exited the parking lot, and headed home.

Glenda says. “Tacos, sir, feed me tacos, David.”

We stopped at the Jack just outside our neighborhood. You ate six with fries and a shake. I had a burger and two myself. We reached the home’s three-car garage, and you made it that far. Only to throw up in the trashcan. I held your hair out of the way for you. I half carry you and help you to your bathroom, where you brush your teeth sitting on the can. Returning to the bedroom, you pulled me down and tried to get me to un-batman out of my things as you took yours off the side of the bed again. You passed out, and like an idiot, I should not have stayed and should not have undressed to lay with you. I had a tee shirt on and my boxers. I gave you my Tee as I kept my boxers on.

I held your near-naked body as I slept like I was guiltless, not a thought of what the light of day would bring. The light was coming in the windows, the heat was on, and you or we tossed off our covers. Mom was wearing my Tee-shirt and nothing else. I felt Mom move in the bed, and she pulled my boxers down and had my morning wood in her hot mouth before I could stop you. I thought that what sin would it be not to stop you? But, then, I heard your voice again; I think a drunk no is terrible. Were you still drunk?

I say. “Mom, Mom, stop. I’m not Dad. I’m so so sorry.”

I pull you off, and you say. “Shit, David, why did you stop me? You know I love it when you come… But, wait, you’re not David. What the Fuck! Donny Allan Bogart, you have some damn explaining to do, young man.”

I’ve not heard three cuss words from you my whole life now, three and my full name. I may not live till noon; focusing your eyes, you look at me hard.

Glenda says. “Shit, I was so happy it was a blur of a night, but David took me dancing last night. I point to the costumes on the floor, Batman and Robin. You run to the bathroom, and I hear you cry. I wanted to run in and hold you. I look at the things on the floor and know I will be grounded until I turn thirty-one. I grab a wash rag and wipe your face as I hold you.

I say. “Sorry, Mom, this is me saying I’m sorry, god I fucked up.”

I held you as you cried, and you got sick. Finally, I help you turn around, holding you up as you hurl into the bowl.

My Mom says. “You have much to explain, son, but we dance, and all the hot girls wanted you. Baby, you so like your Dad.”

Glenda started the water in the shower; you glanced at my boxers and saw your lipstick on them. It was hard leaving my feet frozen on the bathroom floor.

Mom looked at me and says. “You stopped me, baby; why?”

I answered. “You taught me a drunk yes was as bad as rape. I wanted it, but I would not use you. I did not think wearing Dad’s old costume would make you cry. I saw you without clothes twice last night, and you were all over me all night, and you almost got me a few times. You are so hot, Mom your mouth was amazing; I’ve had them before and not in the same class. I loved you too much to let you think I was Dad. I had not planned on that.”

Mom asks. “How did you get me drunk?” As you brushed your teeth.

I answered you. “I mixed your drinks with 180-proof booze. You were flying. I’m sorry I made you cry. I go to my room for the next thousand years.”

Mom looked at me as you felt the hot water in the shower seeing if it was hot yet. You pull me to you, kissing me like you did all night. It felt great, but I pulled away, looking in your face. You took off my Tee-shirt your naked body on display.

Glenda, my hot Mom says. “I’m not drunk now, baby I still smell your scent, and I need this. Stop me if this makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You dropped my shorts. I grew to my full size; you pulled me into the shower.

I pick up the soap and say. “Mom, you nasty, we are burning in hell for this, but I love you too much for this to be a one-time thing.”

Glenda says. “Your hands are so firm; oh shit, yes, not a one-time thing; you are your Dad’s son.”

My hands did your back and neck, going at your shoulders hard, my hard cock sliding up and down the crack of your ass. I felt heat coming off you. I bent my hips, and it rubbed your outer lips as they spread with your rising arousal. Your soft white skin went red in your neck and upper chest to your growing hot moans. My fingers found my Mom’s hot nipples gentle at first.

Mom says. “Harder you feel gooood, But HARDER!”

I did as you reached between us, and you rubbed my cock head in your hot wet pussy. You scream with a tiny come as I suck your neck and stroke inside your pussy. You lean over in the shower, and what was just playing with your pussy is now balls-deep. It took a few strokes to send me over the edge with my come. Putting my leg up on the bench, I place one hand on your smoking hot ass as I hold on to the shower grip, and my strokes pick up speed, trying to break the sound barrier.