Motherhood of the Twisted Path

I wondered if my mother knew that. Was this an accident or something else? We had always had a funny relationship. We talked about actresses from old movies and famous romances. Basically, we would just flirt away with each other. But in truth, she got nervous, too. I realized she was getting tongue-tied from the awkwardness every time a topic came up that usually wasn’t discussed by a mother and her son. Just dumb stuff like their views on current events and culture. She relished the idea that her own son was attracted to her and not only that but how he was openly flirting with her at every opportunity. It didn’t turn her on exactly but it stroked her ego to be worshiped in this way.

She was in town again later on. I had received a beautiful print from her of a nude. It was an impressionist painting and she hung it on the wall. She seemed possessed to finish the project of hanging the picture.

We spent the evening sitting on the rug together near my bookcase. I read to her from my favorite books and she seemed to enjoy it very much. Though she smiled at me and even read to me like she had when I was little, her voice sounded strange and wavering. I was embarrassed, too, by this point. I had never read to her before.

A few years later, she was in town again. We went out to a nice restaurant and had a few drinks. She kept stealing glances at my crotch area. I purposefully wore only a short tee that night and I remember I kept pulling it down from embarrassment but it was still exciting.

They are both healthy but had really missed each other the last few years. His mother who had been estranged from him for a while flew up to see him. They made up as much as possible. She had always been a distant mother thus the odd period of mystery on her part. But this turn of her character is the very thing that made her view her favorite son in a sexual way.

She knew she would always be too cowardly to act upon these feelings but she went as far as she could manage. She remembered teasing him when he was little by running around the house half dressed or asking him to help her with necklaces and earrings while still in undergarments. She had ample hips and large breasts.

He didn’t remember this exactly but he was attracted to any images and erotic stories about old women who were into young people. So, when she came to see him and they cried a little together, he did the hardest thing he ever forced himself to do in his life: He whispered into her ear his dark desire. The idea repulsed him, too, as the as time. While his girlfriends were sometimes up to twice his age, the idea of his actual mother was very different.

His other sexual experiences could only prepare him for this. Previous encounters did prepare him for the way the old girl’s body would probably look and a myriad ways to satisfy her with massages and cuddling. Of course, she was shocked when she heard his proposal and he had to repeat his request. She raised his cobwebby eyes to his and that feeling of repulsion welled up simultaneously inside mother and son’s stomach.

“Okay baby,” she nodded to him, sadly.

She knew she had not been the ideal mother and went along with the idea that she had to sacrifice now for her character faults years ago. As for him, he didn’t care how it felt for him. His previous woman taught him to only please a woman and he had to show her what he had learned so she would know her son much more deeply.

But what happened to them was not entirely their fault. Society was changing. Culture inadvertently encouraged them to spend time together. A different societal norm began due to economic reasons. For example, there was now a psychologist person who talks to people about overcoming the natural reluctance for age play relationships and even those wishing to participate in incestuous mother and son love. Some did this just for the money. They were encouraged in society for some reason.

Possibly society would encourage one thing like worship, presents and even more, it would condemn the actual act of copulation. They should just keep their clothing on and hands decent or something like that.

She was a sign of the times.

Her name is like the name of a saint; the name of an Eastern Saint. Above her, the city street moans. Her solid body seems to him like a column. She is too fat and old for the man of her fancy. But really, he is nowhere near her own class anyway. She is established and confident.

She greets him with tight hugs and kisses and then lures him with her bright eyes and gifts and finally seduces him completely with drinks and her special flower. It was one night of the abandonment of social norms. One night to explore the taboo passion on the part of her date. She knew what to do and she made sure that a night with her would change any man younger then herself forever.

It seemed to creep into the culture from every direction. But suddenly, stories about relationships between old women and young men were popular. Movies were made about current, historical, and fantasy couples that had this May-December charm to it. The old lady would be short and fat and usually full of herself. The full-figured matron was however very witty and flirty. These stories had a incestuous element to them. The unlikely future couple danced around their attraction for each other. He was young and viral but she seduced him in the end the way a friend seduces another friend. Her personality and humor won him over. In the inevitable erotic scene toward the end, their passions spill over. They love each other one night and then the next, also.

Hold her tight, is the message for the guys, both inside and outside.

There was a story about a party where the participants were chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” to a mother and son who did put their lips together for their guests. They said the idea disgusted them and they were both drunk. Mother and son were just daring each other to do it as their heads got closer and closer. Right up until the moment their lips actually touched, the pair were just trying to see who would flinch. But neither backed off as they were both a little tipsy by then. When their lips actually touched it was like an out of body experience for both of them. Others wanted to see them do it. The scene spread a hushed reverence over the voyeurs. A collective sigh escaped them.

Maybe the feelings were from the enthusiasm of the crowd. First of all, lips so hot and perfectly open matched each other in a symmetric kiss between mother and son. They met in the middle before she or her son were aware of it. Their tongues recoiled spontaneously from each other when they first touched as if hit by lightning. Something in that instinctual and deeply revolting act turned her on immensely.

The sexual shock from that contact and the simultaneous retreat of tongues was unspeakably sexy. But the most erotic part was when their mouths reluctantly parted and they both looked at each other with longing needy eyes. That thought came next.

Their close relationship was no accident and that they understood each other without speaking. The way her son’s tongue instinctively flinched from the heat of their meeting made her thirsty for more kisses with him.