My beautiful mom.
My mom is beautiful, everyone has always been jealous of me, my friends dreamed about her, my girlfriends outright said I didn't need a girlfriend if I had such a cool mom. I often go shopping with my mom, to the market, and everywhere we are taken for a married couple, and I'm even pleased that my mom looks so good. My friends even admitted to me that they want a wife like my mom, and I see how strangers look at her. All the purchases my mom makes, she always shows me, puts them on, and then asks for my opinion. For my mom, my opinion is the most important thing. She was disappointed in men long ago; I don't even remember my father, my stepfather was a bastard. For my mom, I was always
her favorite man, and she always tried to please me. I remember from childhood how my mom loved to praise herself and still does it to this day, "LOOK WHAT A MOM YOU HAVE!" I also didn't skimp on compliments; my mom always enjoyed hearing praise from me. My mom's legs are very beautiful, and she always walks around in front of me in stockings and heels, in short, sometimes very short skirts, and all of this is for me. My mom has beautiful shoulders; she often bares them, and again, it's for me. For me, she does hairstyles that I like, but I forbid her from wearing too much makeup—it ages her. Without makeup, she looks younger and sweeter. My mom was always pleased when I looked at her as a woman, and she tried to look her best. Once, she was sitting in an armchair, crossing her legs, baring her shoulders, and talking about something abstract. I was looking at her and said:"You're going to haunt my dreams all night again."
"Have I already haunted your dreams?"
"You haunt my dreams constantly, Mom."
"Tell me!"
I told my mom about my dream where I was making love to her. My mom listened and asked:
"Don't other women appear in your dreams?"
"You, Mom, are the one who haunts my dreams, and only you."
I got up from the armchair and went to the bathroom to masturbate. Then I started constantly telling my mom about my dreams. She always listened attentively, and it excited me even more. Every time, I went to the bathroom to jerk off my python. My mom, of course, knew that I imagined her when I was jerking off, and I know my mom has vibrators too—she also loves to masturbate. But this barrier of MOTHER AND SON, especially for me, we just couldn't overcome. Yes, I stroked my mom's legs, kissed her shoulders, groped her everywhere, swam naked with her in the lake at night, kissed her passionately for a long time. Everyone around us had long thought my mom and I were lovers, but we never had actual sexual intercourse, and it went on like that for a long time.
One day, my mom and I were walking down the street. As always, I was pleased to be with such a beautiful woman. I even demonstratively hugged her, kissed her periodically, and then my mom said:
"We need to figure out how to live from now on. We each need to arrange our own lives, especially you, and I can't stay alone either."
"Mom, I'm your grown son. Why do you need to look for someone? I can replace a husband for you. I'm terrified to think if you find yourself some jerk again. It's hard, of course—you're my mother, I'm your son—but still, let's try to get even closer. Everyone already thinks we're lovers anyway, and here we are, each masturbating separately." My mom wasn't horrified; she listened to me calmly, and I understood she agreed.
It's been seven years now that my mom and I have been living like husband and wife. It might seem that sex with your mom is boring, but on the contrary, we always bring something new. My mom, as always, takes care of herself and hasn't gotten any worse; she always tries for me, fulfills all my fantasies that I told her about in my dreams.