extrem incest

Fourteen year old Brad Rogers is as normal as any other teenager in every
aspect of his life. His body is going through the transformation from being
a boy to becoming a man. With every passing day thoughts about the opposite
sex are becoming more and more prevalent. Brad lives with his mother, his
dad dying when he was 6. It’s not easy growing up in a household without any
other male figure to guide you and explain the many challenges of being a
young man in today’s society. Brad’s mom does a wonderful job raising him,
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Anna crawled into her 14 year old son’s bed, having just awakened him with
his first ever blowjob. The temptation of walking into his room and seeing
his stiff erection poking up in the sheets was just too much for the 35 year
old widow to bear. She hadn’t planned on waking him, but it just happened.
Now, young Brad requested some further lessons in the art of pleasing a
woman.

“First son, you have to know how to use your mouth,” Anna began as she
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I remember the day my mother told me she was going to have a baby. I just had turned 15. My mother was 35, kinda late in life to be having babies in my mind. And, she didn’t know who the father was. You see, dear old Mom, was a lush.

But, when Caroline was born, I fell in love. She was the light of my life. She had the prettiest green eyes I had ever seen in my life. They always lit up when I was near her, or held her. And, with our Mom being a (how do I put this) drunk whore, I took care of Caroline every minute I was home.
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By the time I reached the age of eighteen I was a horny dude, my virginity was three years gone by that time, lost willingly to the woman who had looked after me while my mother was in hospital. She had been as eager to teach me about sex as I had been to be taught.

Like most kids I had gone through a stage around that time where I had fancied my mother and what wasn’t there to fancy about her, to start with she was only fifteen years older than me, though she always looked a hell of a lot younger. She was more attractive than most women I had seen and she was fun to be around, but nothing came of my crush at the time. Since that first experience I had been with a number of girls, the latest of which had busted up with me on that eventful evening.
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I was fourteen, almost. I was sulking, almost. I was bored, almost. I was on my way to my uncle’s, on my mother’s side, with my mother.

I was turning fourteen in less than a month.

I was almost sulking because I would rather have stayed home and played with my friends than go to a boring family get-together with loads of adults and no girls my age. Yes, I had just started to get interested in the opposite sex. Not that I had experienced anything yet, not even a French kiss. I had touched a girl’s breasts once but that was by accident while playing, and there had been nothing romantic or sexy about it, but it had left me with a fantasy in the darkness of my bedroom, and the wetness in a tissue proved it working. Why I was almost sulking was that I couldn’t really sulk with my mom around. She was easy to be around, and she always made me laugh after a while.
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Shit! My bladder was in bursting mode. A quick glance at the clock told me that I’d been sitting in front of the computer for five straight hours. I recalled that Tracy, my thirteen year old daughter had been in and said ‘good-night’ and shortly after that the rush of water in the pipes but I had been so engaged in my work that I hadn’t noticed the time when she started her shower. The bathroom is next to my office, followed by Tracy’s room and my bedroom almost across from hers. It had been mine and my wife’s until a little more than a year ago when she died from the breast-cancer I thought was easily curable.
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I just can’t believe how it happened or what happened and neither will you, but still…

My father died when I just had turned six years old so I dont remember more of him than what mom have told me. He left a good insurance and a rather thriving business so we were well provided for, but mom worked half time anyway. Ever since my fathers death mom never have showed any interest in any other men. I think she is a beautiful woman and Im sure that many men have approached her, but as far as I know she has never let any of them near her.
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I grew up with a single-parent, my mother. She was a juvenile mother only fourteen and some months when she gave birth to me. Her upstruck parents threw her out but had the decency to provide for her while she attended school, but when she was old enough to go to university they stopped the money and left her on her own. Anyhow she managed to bring me up, take a degree and work at the same time.

By the time she was twenty-six she had taken her degree and started to work and by the same time I started to get curious about girls. More then curious obsessed. So obsessed with what they looked like without any clothes on that I came up with this waterproof idea how I could get into their locker-room, hide and study all these naked girls. Of course I got caught and my mother was called to the headmaster’s.
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Though I really don’t want to talk about this I feel I just have to share my darkest secret with somebody. It isn’t a nice story. Mind you, I don’t regret anything. At the time it seemed right. No not right. I don’t exactly know what I mean. It’s hard to explain. It just happened. If you don’t mind I think I’ll better explain to you how it all happened.

I grew up under very poor circumstances in a small southern town. My mother and I lived in a one room and a kitchen apartment in a very shabby neighborhood. My mother was a cleaner at the local hospital. She was divorced and I never knew my father. Unfortunately for her she got to know this nurse how sold her ninety-five proof medical alcohol, which she diluted with some juice, and soon enough mom became a weekend drunk. You know the type. When Friday afternoon comes they drink themselves into stupor. They take care of job and obligations during the week alright, but during the weekend it’s as if they change into someone else. Mom did just that. At the beginning she didn’t want me to see her drunk so I think she waited to start to drink seriously until I had gone to bed and that was easy before I was a teenager. In my preteens I never was much for late nights. Early to bed and early to rise is and was my motto.
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It was mid-September. It was dark and a chilly autumn wind swept the land and made me shiver and draw my jacket tighter around me. I was on my way to Fredrick, Fred, to get tomorrow’s homework. My mother and I had been to see my grand-mother at her sickbed or rather deathbed. She was in the latter stage of cancer and only had a couple of days or weeks left of her life when she suddenly called mother. I didn’t even know that she was alive when mom told me that she wanted to see me. I couldn’t see that my mother had gotten her looks from her but mom assured me that my grand-mother indeed was her mother.
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