Mother son incest sex with a surrogate

M

Marsha Brown was looking in the website history file to locate an important site for her online degree course that she had forgotten to bookmark. She almost wished she hadn’t. There they were again; she didn’t even have to click on them, she knew they were mother-son incest sites. She kept hoping Ron would just outgrow this unhealthy fixation on her; but it didn’t seem to be happening.

Why her very handsome and popular athlete son would be sexually attracted to her was hard for her to understand. He dated some very attractive girls his own age. And while Marsha had certainly never let her body go to pot, neither had she spent hours at the gym trying to stop time. She was a reasonably nice looking, if somewhat matronly, forty year old hard working junior executive, part time student and single mother. Who the hell had time for glamour? In fact, she was perfectly aware that she could not possibly accomplish all that she did, except that Ron was the perfect son… with this single exception. He even earned most of his own money by working three afternoons a week and Saturday making deliveries for the local pharmacy and grocery store.

She decided she had better call her friend Carol, who was a trained adolescent counselor and had been unofficially advising Marsha. “Carol, it’s Marsha, Ron’s been on those incest websites again.”

“You mean you caught him again, I’m willing to bet he’s never really been off them.”

“I could get parental control software and block him.”

“A waste of time, Marsha, Ron knows a lot more about computers than you do. He’d crack it before you left the room. And if he’d couldn’t, he’d just go to a friend’s house. No, I think it’s better to keep it in the open, rather than force it underground. Anything else going on?”

“Just the usual. I have to be careful getting out of the shower. Don’t bend over in a low neckline. And I think he gets into my dirty lingerie sometimes. Stuff like that.”

“Oh hell Marsha, most mothers of teenage sons put up with that. At his age, they are likely to fuck anything they can’t eat or put on their car. Seriously, I think it might help if I talk to him privately. Ask him to expect me at your place tomorrow at 6:00, then you make yourself scarce, OK?”

“Thanks a bunch Carol, I appreciate it.”

Ron liked his mother’s friend Carol but he was not very glad to see her this time since he knew why she had come even before she asked him rhetorically. “You know why I want to talk to you, don’t you Ron?”

“Yea, I’m weirding Mom out again with my incest sites. But Carol, I love mom, I’d never do anything to hurt her. I’m not going to rape her or anything. I just feel this sexual attraction toward her”

“Ron, I know you’d never hurt your mom and she does too. I think she’s more concerned about you being hurt, emotionally. Also I’m not sure that you completely understand the other side of this sexual attraction coin.”

“What other side? I don’t get it.”

“I know you don’t. Men never do. Think about it Ron. Your mom is still a very red blooded woman with all the normal feelings and needs. She’s put them aside for a long time to support the two of you but they are still there. She’s been alone too long. You are a very good looking and sexy young hunk and you live under the same roof. You think a lot about trying to get a peek at her body, but I bet you don’t think a damn bit about prancing around the house nearly naked in front of her all the time. Now what do you think that does to her?”

Ron just stared for a moment. “Oh shit Carol, you’re right! I don’t think about it at all. I’m probably frustrating the hell out of her all the time without even knowing it. But I never thought that mom would be turned on by me, I thought it was me getting turned on by her.”

“Listen Ron, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Nature and society make women the gatekeepers of sex. We usually get stuck with the job of deciding whether or not sex will happen while the men stand around with a hardon, raring to go. Well, that doesn’t mean that we always like the job. Sometimes it sucks. Someday, you’re going to get pissed at some poor girl in the back seat of a car, because she makes you stop; and you’ll never know that she hated stopping as much as you but did it because it had to be done.”

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George B. J. Martin

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