Incest story: Obsession. Author: APerv2. A lonely mom that becomes obsessed with curiosity and her son. The story is including of Fiction, Incest, Male / Older Female theme.
Incest story: Obsession – Chap 1 – Part 1
Author: APerv2
This one’s a little lengthy. A lot of background, lead-up, and “Explaining”, as most of my 1st chapters seem to be. I feel it’s kind of important to know what the characters are thinking, where they’re goming from. For those of you that just want to get right to the sex……Sorry. For those of you that, as I do, think it makes for a better story……Here ya go.
−Obsession−
Chapter one:
My name is Cathy. I’m a 43 year old widowed mother. I have a 21 year old son named Brian. I’m a rather tall, slim woman; five foot eleven inches, very long, dark brown hair that comes down to my waist and dark brown eyes. Tennis and running has kept me in pretty good shape. I’ve been told I look like Eva Mendez but I think they’re just being polite.
My son Brian took more after his dad…
He has coal black hair and stands no more than 5’4”. He’s a little shy but has a very good sense of humor. Brian’s father was a very handsome man and Brian got every bit of that and more.
There are only two obvious differences between Brian and his dad. Brian’s a very wide, stocky young man. Even as a young boy in high school, Brian was very well built; very defined. He played on the football team all four years in high school and now is a running back on his college football team.
Incest story: Obsession. Author: APerv2.
His dad on the other hand was rather skinny and non-athletic. The other difference was less obvious to everyone but my sister and me.
My late husband, Jimmy, was a very good lover. We enjoyed a full and exciting sex life for a long time before a car accident took him from us. Jim’s penis was not very big, five inches at best when erect but Jimmy knew how to use it well. It never gave me reason to complain. He would refer to his small penis as “The Washburn Curse” and would jokingly tell me how it was handed down through the generations from his great, great, great grandfather, Jeremiah Washburn. He always made me laugh. I would tell him things like;
“It’s all I’ll ever need” or “I love the way it all fits in my mouth.”
I didn’t tell him these things to make him feel better. I told him because they were the truth. We never did anything TOO crazy, nothing that would wind us up in jail anyways, but I believe I willingly fulfilled just about all of his fantasies; at least the ones he’d told me about. I had even invited one of my girlfriends into our bed when we were first married. He’d told me he’d never been with two women at the same time and would love to try it. He had a birthday coming up and I made it one I’m sure he never forgot.
When he expressed interest in anal sex, I was reluctant but certainly willing to give it a try. I have to say, I was rather thankful for the Washburn Curse when we explored that avenue. The fact was; I loved Jimmy and I loved his penis as well.
Now when Brian was just a little guy, it became rather obvious to me that Jimmy would not share the “Washburn Curse” with his son.
I can recall my sister and I would make little comments and jokes to each other about Brian’s penis at bath time like:
“He’s gunna be quite the lady killer.”
“That’s quite the little package he has there.”
“I hope he grows into that.” Little remarks like that.
I bathed Brian until he was almost seven-years-old, when he informed me he thought he was too old to be washed by his Mommy. For the next few weeks, I inspected my son head to toe after he was finished bathing. Satisfied with the job he was doing without my help, I let him wash himself from then on.
Well―One evening a while back, Brian was in high school I guess, I walked in on him in the bathroom. He was standing with one foot up on the tub and he was drying himself after a shower. Although it all happened pretty fast, my eyes went right to the thing hanging between his legs. Literally, I mean it. It was hanging! When I recalled the incident to my sister some days later, I remember using the words ‘snake like’.
It was easy to see that “The Washburn Curse” was going to skip a generation. From what I thought I saw, his penis was already quite a bit bigger than his father’s, and noticeably thicker as well……And Brian was SOFT! As a matter of fact, it was the thickness that had caught my attention in the first place. I was a bit taken back.
{The incident reminded me of some pictures that my girlfriend and I had seen in a magazine when we were teenagers. My girlfriend, Cindy, had taken it from her brother’s room and snuck it to her room one night that I was sleeping over. The name of the magazine was “Too Big”. We were amazed by the pictures, but that’s another story entirely.}
Anyway― Brian looked up and saw me gawking. I must have been standing there with my mouth hanging open.
“Moooommm!” He squealed and quickly covered himself.
I promptly apologized and shut the bathroom door. I stood outside the door with my hand still on the doorknob, shaking my head slowly in disbelief. I wondered if I’d really seen what it was I thought I’d seen. I couldn’t have, I told myself.
I know that as his mother the size of his penis shouldn’t have concerned me. In my defense, in the beginning, I just wanted to know if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was surprised that I was giving this so much thought but I couldn’t seem to stop. I needed to know if what I saw was real or was it just something my imagination was bending out of proportion, so-to-speak. I began to wonder if maybe it was just the light or maybe the way he was standing. I mean, if it were as big as it looked, certainly I would have noticed something like that― Around the pool―At the beach. I don’t understand why it was so important to me, one way or the other, but it was.
I found myself thinking about it a lot in the days and nights after that. I even found myself sneaking fleeting glances at the front of his shorts and his bathing suit from time to time to see if maybe I could see an outline or a reference to its size, but everything he wore was baggy. Perhaps it was more comfortable for him that way. I felt myself blush each time I caught myself looking; embarrassed that I would do such a thing, afraid someone might notice my interest.
I found myself ashamed at times that I was looking at my own son in such a way. I told myself that I was just trying to confirm what it was I thought I saw. I kept telling myself that I must have been mistaken, that there was no way that “My little man” could have such a… …such a big penis. But, the more I tried to dismiss it, the more I dwelled on it and the more I needed to know.
It had even gotten to the point where I’d found myself standing outside the bathroom door once with my hand on the knob ready to barge in with the intention of catching another quick look.
I know how all this sounds.
One night, I’d come in from a late dinner with the girls and found Brian asleep on the couch in front of the TV in just a T-shirt and his boxers. I leaned over to wake him and tell him to go on up to bed. I was just about to tap him on the shoulder when my eyes drifted down to his boxers. I froze. Sticking out of the open fly was the head of Brian’s penis. It was about the size of a golf ball. My stomach flip-flopped. I covered my mouth with my fingers to muffle a gasp.
I felt so silly, like a nasty little girl, standing there peeking at a boy’s privates. But never-the-less, I wanted to see more. I glanced up to make sure he was asleep. I didn’t want to get caught gawking at my son’s dick again. This was nothing like barging in on someone in the bathroom. THIS would be hard to explain.
I felt my stomach get all jittery as I shifted my attention back to my son’s privates. I took a deep breath to steady myself and resumed my investigation. {I call it an investigation…But in reality it was borderline molestation.}
I felt myself flush. I was pretty shocked at my reaction. I felt a little light headed as I realized this might finally be my chance to actually see it, All of it, and put this whole crazy, stupid thing to rest. Maybe it was the three Gin & Tonics I had at dinner, I don’t know, maybe the two shots of Jack. If not, it had to be the Jello shooters. Regardless… I had to keep myself from giggling like a school-girl.
I bent over a little more and cocked my head to see if I could get a better look inside the slit of his underwear. It was no use; his boxers hid all but the tip. If I was going to see any more of it… …I was going to have to pull his fly open more.
I should have realized how deep into this think I really was when “Opening his fly more to get a better look” was my answer to that particular problem instead of just waking him up, sending him to bed and going to bed myself.
I looked to make sure he was asleep. I bit my bottom lip and slowly extended a shaky index finger, moving it slowly towards my son’s fly. The closer my finger got, the more nervous I became. I couldn’t believe it. One more quick glance up before I carefully hooked my long fingernail in the slit of his boxers and gently, slowly, pulled open the small slit.
My finger was so close to my son’s dick. Again, I had to stifle the urge to giggle. I moved my head a little to one side to allow the light from the table lamp to better light the area. I noticed that my hand was shaking quite a bit. I glanced up at Brian one more time. Still sleeping.
I could see inside his boxers a little better now. There it was; most of it anyway. “Jeeezzzz…” I whispered under my breath. I found myself comparing it to his father’s. Even soft, what I could see of it, was bigger than his father’s had ever been hard.
I saw what looked to be every bit of at least five inches of my son’s penis. It looked nice and smooth {You know, like a dick} and after all my efforts to confirm what I thought I’d seen more than 2 years earlier, I could now see that in fact, it had not been my imagination. His dick was pretty big and very, very thick… …fat actually.
Leave a Reply