adult incest

Greetings…first writing on here, and I am somewhat nervous. I am writing this out without any preparation really, problably because of laziness, so it will likely be full of errors.
My name is Helen, 46 years old, divorced with a son and daughter, and what I am about to write is NOT real. The context is real in that these are fantasies I explored only within my own imagination over the last few years, but taking place within my real life situation.
And they involve the deepening relationship I had with my son Rob, who is now 22 years old and living out of town.


Let me stress again that if you want to read something vulgar or a chronicle of true events, you wont find that here. This is a telling of fantasies never realized. I would never do anything illegal or of any detriment to my loved ones, so I have kept all these feelings to myself, sharing them with absolutly no one.
It started happening during a very dark time in my life after my divorce, when I was feeling quite lost. I wont say anything about my husband because it no longer matters, but there was a several month long period when I just prefered to stay in bed or mope around the house all day, taking lots of time off work.
Strangely, none of this seemed to affect my son, who was completely wonderful the whole time. He used to come in to my room in the morning and bring me a glass of orange juice, and sometimes he would give me a much needed hug and cheer me up with his good humour.

I have to leave out some parts of the story here, but there were two bizarre events that happened between us that set the stage for this unspoken fantasy life, which has grown in intensity ever since.
Basically I found myself falling for him, and started viewing him as the man of house I suppose, but there were little things that happened…sexual things that appealed to my sense of the forbidden. I have always loved dreaming of situations that arent supposed to happen in polite society.
One of these events happened shortly after I had purchased a new digital camera for Rob, a good one this time, and he spent a lot of time shooting pictures around the house.

Many of me I might add, and there was one time when he was snaping me in the living room, no one else was home, and I was wearing very conservative officewear, but with lovely patterned nylons.
At some point I showed them off…a bit too much, pulling my skirt up for the camera, halfway up my thigh but high enough to make his eyes grow very wide and intensive.
He fell completely silent, and just gave me this look, as if to say…MORE!

Show me more that is…and it kind of jolted me out of the casualness of the scene. I actually didnt think as much of it at the time as I did later on, when I began to fantasize about a bolder approach. What if he had actually spoken those words, and told his own mother to hike up her skirt?
This ******d me more than I could have realized, and made me more sensitive to another little drama which happened months later.
Which I will write about in the the second installment, later…Helen.



Thanks for the welcome B4rry. This is a rather quiet little spot on this site isnt it?
Well, as things developed, I found myself doing odd things from that time onward. Very subtle things like walking into Robs room in the outfit I had just worn to a funeral, except that I had removed my bra and panties! It was exhilerating standing there within inches talking to him about schoolwork while I was basically nude aside from this thin black gown!

I was acting on impulse, knowing only that it made me feel sexy without any moral reflection, but the real kicker came when we had been invited to a wedding. Actually, I had been invited and he decided to tag along.
We both got dressd up. I was wearing only my shoes, nylons and what you would call a mandalay dress…a string of pearls, a very simple ensemble, he had more trouble finding something appropriate.
The wedding itself was uneventful, we did not know the people terribly well aside from 3 or 4, so we spent more time by ourselves. And when it was time to go we found ourselves in cramped quarters heading down from the reception hall to the lobby. The elevator was packed, and somehow I ended up right in front of Rob, with both of us being squeezed together very intimately!

How intimately? Well…I could feel it…his erection I mean, pressing up against my ass!
Actually moving in an erotic motion deeply between my cheeks…insistantly. I mean, if this was happening out in the open both parties would have been arrested! And it was no accidental juxiposition…whatever that means.
So when we got home I had to escape to my room immediately. It was quite late by then anyway and time for bed. I sat around in my dress for a time, replaying what had happened over and over, gently stroking my clit through the fabric, when suddenly I got up and went to the mirror.
Is this what you want to see…honey?
I said to myself, pulling my dress off seductively, and rolling my pantyhose down just past my ass!

Looking across my dressing table, my eyes fell on a bottle, which I swooped up in a flash and used to pour a frightful amount of baby oil all over my highly sensitized flesh!
I caressed myself in a trance, until my whole torso was slick with it, rubbing my vulva and imagining how Rob would react if he saw me like this. Would he grab my hips and finish what he started in the lift? Would his mother seduce him with her sensuality?
Of course I had a wonderful shuddering orgasm, which was nevertheless silent…sometimes I bite down on my hand to prevent myself from yelling. Im a prude like that I guess. More in a few days…Helen.

You may be the only one enjoying my little daydreams sweetie. Thats what they are…never a night dream Craig.
So following these two incidents my fantasy life really started to head off into uncharted waters so to speak. Ive spoken already about things I could do in a way that remained hidden, but I also thought about things I would say to him when we were alone together.

How strange and erotic it would be to go to him in the middle of the night and start talking about a new nightgown I had bought!
Would it be considered inappropriate for a boys mother to do such a thing? Yes…thats what we like about it!
I imagined him asking me to teach him to dance, and we would do just that, right in the middle of the living room with the furniture pushed back.

I imagined him caressing my hips, moving his hands around slowly, traceing my bra strap, and I would stop in his intense stare like a deer in the headlights!
Maybe we should get more comfortable, I would say, unzipping my dress and feeling it slide to the floor.
Now I can feel his hands searching under the waist band of my pantyhose, pulling them down until theyre all tangled up around my ankles.

He likes it to see me dance like that, making clumsy little steps around the room, his hands exploring every curve of his mothers flesh…lit by candlelight…ooh my!

Hmm, I dont know how that would work exactly, or if I would be any good at it. In any event I would have to know more about a penpals background.
Just like any other college student Rob gets an email every week from his mom. I wrote one just last night after retiring to bed with my laptop, and fantasized about slipping sexy little passages to the text.

I wouldnt dare actually do it of course, but I was describing a new skirt I had bought with a very soft brushed texture, and thought about adding a line…something like:
I cant wait to feel your hands on it sweetheart…remember how you used to slide up against me as we passed in the hallway outside your room?
How would you react if you read something like that in a letter from your mother Craig?

Well, sometimes confusion and suspenseful uncertainty can be very pleasurable Craig.
Consider how sweet it would be to have your mother knock on your bedroom door and quietly ask if you could unzip her dress!

Turning around and gathering up her hair she tilts her hips a bit to give you an alluring view as the zipper makes its way slowly down halfway past her ass…cooing a little when she feels your gentle hands on her neck!
And yet, this little intimacy you share would be considered vaguely indecent by some.
Thats what we love about it Craig…!!!

Tell me something youd like to write in a letter to your mom…a subtle message slipped in between the lines that would leave her in a state of…intriguing confusion!

That is what we love….the taboo nature of our thoughts, knowing that it’s wrong but feels so right.
I’d like to write something like this:
It’s so lonely in this city, mom. Nothing to do but eat, sleep and go to school. I have time to go out sometimes, but none of the girls here are my type, too immature.
I don’t know. I prefer this girl back home. Oh well. I cannot wait to see you again. I can’t wait to come back home and hug you close.
——–
Hopefully, that would contain the right amount of innuendo to confuse and exc ite you.

Haha! That reminds me of the ONE time Rob brought home one of his girlfriends for dinner. I had never seen her before, and I seriously wasnt prejudiced, but as soon as I saw her I took a dislike.
I dont know if it was jealously exactly or something else, but I spent most of the evening pouting and rolling my eyes somewhat dramatically every time she smiled at Rob. She wasnt even that good looking, and certainly not the kind Rob would get serious with for any extended length of time.
Well that night, after she had gone home and I was in bed, I fantasized about making a nocturnal visit to Robs room…in my diaphanous nightgown, and just sitting pretty on the edge of his bed in the moonlight.
I would speak to him quietly, holding his left hand in mine, and stroking his chest with my other. His skin has the faint scent of leather and oranges, which makes me glow inside and shift my derriere in closer to his side. Is he taking notice of this, how the softness of his mothers flesh molds itself to his nudity, through this thin cotton sheet?
His half erection comes to its fullness, affirming the sweetness of the moment…and I tell him…no matter how many girlfriends come and go, it will always be his mother who best understands his deepest needs.
Or his deepest desires…an even more risque choice of words!
May I ask Craig, how you would react if you observed your mother with obvious signs of jealousy towards one of your girlfriends? Would you try to draw her out on the subject, or just keep it to yourself?

That would definitely pique my curiousity. I think I would really pry and get her to admit or even confess to what is going on in her mind.
I’d probably be a little sarcastic while noting how pretty my girlfriend is. I’ll also try to hint about our sex life. Then I’d try to gauge her reaction. Hopefully she would feel as turned on as I did.
Imagining you (like her) in the moonlight, dressed in your nightgown like some kind of angel is so erotic. I can almost picture being there with you.