A Vacation in Mom

Pervert tales

My name is Eve. Just like in the Bible. My parents,
children of the “Flower Power” generation, were true
hedonists. “You only live once,” they told me. “Do what
feels good. Get the most pleasure you can. Use yourself
up. There are no consequences.” Alas they are no longer
with me but I took their lesson to heart, especially
when it came to the pursuit of enjoyment.

My parents might have tempered their advice if they had
known how oversexed I was. I’m sure that my libido was
influenced by all the LSD, peyote, pot, and Irish coffee
that they consumed when I was conceived and in the womb.

As the movie line goes “I had a body for sin and a brain
for business.” Well not actually for business but one
for science. I scored near the top of the range in the
science and math portion of the SATs. But the sin part
got the most exercise in college and graduate school.

I’m not a ravishing beauty but I’m attractive enough. I
have nice breasts, a trim waist, and beautiful legs.
It’s not my own doing. Even though I exercise regularly,
work out in the gym and don’t eat junk food, I owe my
appearance primarily to the good genes inherited from my
parents and the luck of the draw. I am almost a
caricature of one of the old Vargas cartoons in Esquire
magazine. You know the ones. Big tits, slim body, and
long sexy legs, the stuff of wet dreams. In old WW2
movies Vargas calendars are shown hanging from every
barracks wall.

In college the guys literally lined up hoping for my
sexual favors. My prospective lovers didn’t have to try
too hard. Anyone who seriously wanted to fuck me
succeeded. I protested a bit, primarily to preserve my
reputation as a “good” girl and then I spread my legs.
Why not? It gave both of us pleasure. It sure beat
nights of study in the library. I wasn’t quite the class
whore, but almost. I took on classmates, instructors,
even professors as long as they were reasonably healthy
and were nice to me.

Although I said “guys” some of my bedmates were women.
No point playing favorites. I liked the feel of a cock
in my cunt but warm feminine lips eating me out were
equally good. I wanted to be touched, fondled, sucked or
penetrated and ultimately experience the thrill of a
rousing climax. In fact I read a recent article in a
scientific journal that claimed that many women were
“fluid” in their sexual preference. They could switch
from male to female lovers and back again without
difficulty. So I guess I was just normal.

My promiscuous behavior actually helped my career. Most
instructors, male and female alike, were willing to
trade an A grade for a passionate roll in the hay. So I
graduated college with high honors. Along the way I had
a child, Adam. Unfortunately I never married. Just as
well. I didn’t really know who the father was. Single
mothers were no novelty at a university.

Eventually I was offered a job as a graduate assistant
and progressed through the hierarchy to Associate
Professor in charge of my own laboratory.

I am now approaching 40. In my generation that was the
portal of middle age. My face is still young looking but
my figure has matured. I reminded myself of Leslie Caron
in that old movie “Gigi.” An innocent looking face on
the body of a courtesan.

Whenever I catch a glimpse of my nude body in the
bathroom mirror after taking a shower I have a twinge of
desire for the woman that I see. I luxuriate in the
sensuous feel of my flesh. I appreciate the softness of
my breasts, the sensitivity of my nipples, the
resilience of my legs and thighs.

In the privacy of my bathroom I can touch myself
everywhere without shame or embarrassment. My breasts
have grown large enough so that I can raise them to my
mouth and suck and chew my own nipples. I enjoy the
taste of my cunt and I would sometimes finger fuck
myself, not because I wanted an orgasm, but because I
wanted to lick the fingers that had been in my vagina.

I’m not a lesbian but if my nude mirror image walked
into the room I would be down on her in a second. My
hands would clutch her breasts and my tongue would find
her cunt. It’s too bad that I can’t suck my own pussy. I
would really like to eat myself out. Don’t get me wrong.
I love being a woman but once in a while I have a
distinct longing to have a cock so that I could fuck the
woman that I see in the mirror. It would be wonderful to
be the fucker as well as the fuckee.

My work at the university prospered nicely. We developed
a method of of scanning the brains of animals and making
changes in the neural structure. We even tried it with
success on monkeys. The next step was to try it on
humans but we had much more research to do. We had to
map that portion of the human brain that contained the
personality and the memory making due compensation for
gender.

But while I was supervising this research a strange
thing was happening to me. I developed an exceptionally
strong need for sexual climaxes. There were times when I
felt that my whole body had become an erogenous zone.
Soon I was masturbating four, five, sometimes six times
a day. I just had to do it to myself or I would explode.
There was no emotional gratification in these self
inflicted orgasms. They were a physical necessity. I ran
through the full muscle twitching, cunt filling,
delightful agony of a climax but there was an empty
feeling in my heart and my head.

I talked to several psychotherapists over the next two
years. All concured that I was not a nymphomaniac. I was
not compelled to copulate with a variety of men to get
assurance of my desirability nor was I compulsively
driven to masturbate to reduce personal anxiety. Rather
I appeared to have an exaggerated sexual need, a super
active libido. It was most likely a neurological
problem.

Some women with this condition have an almost constant
need for sexual stimulation suffering up to 300 orgasms
a day. It is not as erotic as you may think. It becomes
almost impossible to get anything done. Tight clothes,
car rides, casual touches may trigger off an immediate
need for sexual gratification. Women with this condition
are held prisoner by their own genitals. I’ve heard that
some have even contemplated committing suicide if they
could get no relief.

In my case my symptoms would start with an itchy feeling
in my pubic region. An itch that no amount of scratching
would relieve. The itch became increasingly intense and
spread throughout my body. My breasts engorged and my
nipples erected becoming extremely sensitive. I couldn’t
function until I got relief. An orgasm was the only
thing that helped.

It is very difficult trying to lead a normal life when
you have to make yourself cum six or more times a day.
Several years ago I only had to do it four times a day
and I could handle that. I would rise, eat breakfast
while still in my robe, and just before I dressed to go
to work, I would suck my nipples and finger fuck myself
to a climax. That would hold me until the lunch break.

At lunch time I would excuse myself, lock myself in a
stall in the woman’s lavatory, and finger my cunt until
I came again. I was so unemotional about masturbating
that I could eat a sandwich with one hand while plunging
the other into my wet vagina. I even joked to myself
that I was taking a “funch” break. About mid afternoon I
would again head for the restroom and repeat the
process. From then on it was a struggle to contain
myself until I could get back to my apartment, plop
myself in front of the TV, and watch stupid sitcoms, a
vibrator buzzing away in my cunt until I climaxed.

That was fine when I only had to “do” myself four times
a day. But I just couldn’t fit more climaxes into my
work schedule. My son, Adam was very tolerant of my
condition. “Mommy is just having one of her moods,” he
would say as I flailed away at my cunt.

I nursed Adam until he was two years old. The last year
was not so much for nutrition as for my gratification.
If the truth be told he probably liked the mush that
came out of Gerber baby jars better than the milk that
came from my breasts but we both enjoyed the feeling and
closeness of him sucking on me.

After I came from work I would sit on the couch and turn
on the TV, usually one of the kid shows. I would either
raise my sweater or unbutton my blouse. He would crawl
up next to me and childishly play with my large breasts,
eventually putting one of my turgid nipples in his
mouth. My own fingers would find my cunt and I would
masturbate myself to several climaxes while he sucked my
essence out of my milk swollen breast. It was heavenly.
I got to know all the Ninja Turtles by name while I
writhed to one orgasm after another.

When I gave Adam his nightly bath, I even sucked his
tiny penis to make sure it was clean. He loved it when I
got him erect and I could feel his hips move as he
thrust in and out of my mouth. We both enjoyed our
evenings.

Even today, a decade later, I have occasional episodes
of being forced to masturbate. I knew that after giving
myself a couple of good orgasms the symptoms would
disappear, at least for a while. I grudgingly admitted
to myself that I loved “fucking” my own body. It didn’t
matter whether I used my fingers, a vibrator, a sex shop
dildo or even a cucumber. The climaxes, even the forced
ones were delightful. It’s just that I disliked not
having the freedom to pleasure myself when and how I
wanted.

When Adam developed sexually I tried to explain what was
happening to him. Talking wasn’t much use. I had to do a
lot of show and tell. As he matured he began to get
spontaneous erections. They would last for quite a
while. I had to help him, first by using my hands then
by putting his penis into my mouth and giving him a blow
job. It worked fine and his fresh virginal emissions
were delicious.

Adam asked me if I had sexual feelings just as he did. I
tried to explain that everyone had them, some more than
others. He was curious about what I did to satisfy
myself. He wanted a detailed description. I eventually
had to show him. You may think it strange that Adam and
I were discussing giving me a climax like we were
reading articles from the morning newspaper but it was
almost the norm in our household. We always discussed
our bodily feelings with each other as equals.

When he was twelve Adam would walk into the bathroom
after I had taken a shower and ask me both why I didn’t
have a penis like him and why there was no hair around
my pussy. I showed him that I had a hole in which the
penis was inserted. Men and women were a matched pair, I
explained. They have parts that fit each other. He was
Adam and I was Eve so the bible said that our parts
should fit each other. Maybe not right away but after he
grew up.

As far as the hair around the pussy went, I found it
difficult to explain that I masturbated so frequently
that unless I shaved myself, I would matt up like an old
rug. It was easier to justify my naked genitals as a
fashion statement, like shaving under my arms. Besides I
liked touching my bare pussy. It felt sexy.

My breasts, I told him, were used to produce milk for
babies. Humans were mammals after all. But breasts also
had other uses. It felt good to have them sucked on them
even when there was no milk. I let him hold my breasts.
He put his hands around them, lifted them and played
with the nipple. Then, remembering his childhood, he put
the nipple in his mouth to try to suck it. He liked it.
So did I.

When his cock got hard. I held it in my hand. It was
surprisingly large for a young boy. Adam asked if he
could try putting it in my hole. After talking about how
men and women have parts that fit together I had to let
him try. After all we were both stark naked in the
bathroom. I told him that he could try but we would
probably be more comfortable on my bed.

I spread my legs to give Adam easier access to my
genitals. He crawled on top of me and with a little help
on my part pushed his erect penis past my pussy lips
into my vagina.

“What do I do now?” he asked.

“Well, just move your hips back and forth. Push your
penis in and out of my vagina.” He did. “That’s right
Adam. Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Yes, Mommy… I like it… Should I move faster? Oh,
oh. Something is happening to me. It feels so good. I
can’t hold it any more. OH MOMMY!”

When he got older Adam helped me satisfy myself. If I
showed signs of needing relief he would caress my
genitals until I came. “Mommy, I want to help you,” he
said as he fingered my pussy. He would lightly rub my
clitoris and insert his fingers into my vagina. When he
was young, he could almost get his whole hand in and
work it around.

We would lie together at night, legs wrapped around each
other, his growing cock in my cunt, fucking each other
gently until we both fell asleep. Often, if I was
particularly restless, I would wake up to find his head
between my legs as he ate me to a glorious climax. His
high school years were thoroughly satisfactory for us
both. I had the advantage of his teenage passion while
he, in turn, had this wonderfully sexy mature woman to
fuck, and fuck, and fuck.

We were absolutely free with each other. He knew
everything about my body, the contour of my cunt and the
way that my nipples got hard when he rolled them between
his fingers. He also knew about my sexual predilections,
particularly how I liked him to caress my full and sexy
calves before I allowed him to put his head between my
thighs and eat my cunt. I, in turn, knew everything
about his body, where he liked me to touch him and
exactly how to nibble his penis when I gave him a blow
job.. It was not incest. It was education.

We had “educational” sessions frequently. Both of us
enjoyed it immensely. I showed Adam where his touches
felt best on my body and he told me where they felt best
on his body. He played with my large breasts and pulled
my nipples. He sucked and chewed then until they got
hard. He would probe my cunt and stroke my clitoris
while I shuddered in bliss. I would kiss him all over
his body and give him blowjobs. More often we simply
fucked each other until we were both exhausted.

But then he left for college and an eventual career. I
assured him that I could take care of my needs myself
and I did. At least six times a day.

I heard the doorbell ring. I had just given myself a
really good climax so I knew that I had a period of
respite before the need came on me again. When I opened
the door I got the shock of my life. My grown son Adam
was standing on the doorstep.

He was on his way to a job interview in California and
just decided to drop by. I asked him to come in and
hugged him. I welcomed him into the house and offered
him a beer. We talked for a while trying to catch up on
each other’s lives. Finally he asked me if I still had
to give myself climaxes several times a day to get
relief?

As Adam talked to me, I began to fidget, crossing my
legs and wiggling my butt on the chair. My hands drifted
up to the front of my sweater and I unconsciously
started rubbing the area over my nipples. In a few
moments I was actually clutching the flesh of my breasts
through my garment. Adam seemed to get the clue right
away.

“Do you need a climax Mom?” he asked.

“Yes I do,” I replied. “I just finished doing myself and
I think I might have to masturbate again soon. If you
wait until I make myself cum again we can talk more. You
can watch me if you want. Or you can even help me. I’m
sure that nothing I do will shock you.”

What could I do but admit it. I was within a minute of
pulling down my skirt and plunging my fingers into my
pussy. I had little shame about displaying my body to my
son. We had both enjoyed his frequent use of it for
years to satisfy our lusts. He knew what it looked like,
every intimate detail.

Before Adam could respond I unbuttoned my blouse and
pulled out a breast. It was heavy in my hand, the nipple
already starting to erect.

“Look at my boobie, Adam. Doesn’t it look lovely. The
nipple is standing up like a little soldier. It feels so
full. I’m going to suck it. Unless you want to suck it.”

“Let me help you,” said Adam. “I remember that you
helped me in dealing with my erections. I know what you
need.”

He walked me to the bedroom and stripped off my
confining garments. Neither I nor Adam felt odd even
though I was a mature woman lying nude, squirming on the
bed, in front of a young man. We had been in this
position many times before.

“How do you want me to make you cum? I can use my
fingers, or I can fuck you the old fashioned way.”

I could tell Adam wanted to do it the old fashioned way,
at least judging by the tent in his pants. I was tempted
too. Unfortunately, I couldn’t wait.

“Use your fingers,” I decided. “Of course you could
always kiss your way up my legs and eat me for a while.
They you can put your hand in my vagina and finger fuck
me until I cum.”

“Okay,” Adam said. “I’ll play with your pussy for a
while until I think you’re ready. Then I’ll finger fuck
you. The climax will just be mechanical. Don’t try to
control it. Just shut your eyes and let yourself go.
Your body knows what to do.”

First he put his hands on my shoulders and slowly
massaged the tension out of me. The hands gravitated to
my breasts. He worked his fingers around the bottom of
my boobs and then up to my nipples. I could feel them
getting hard and more and more sensitive. The fingers
‘milked’ me like a cow pulling outward with each stroke.

After a few minutes of tit stroking he put his hands on
my leg and slowly worked them up to the inside of my
thigh, caressing and kneading the soft flesh as he moved
higher and higher. When he got to the top he gently
worked the fingers around my pussy lips and slowly
spread them apart. When Adam touched my clit, I felt
shocks right away. Maybe it was the anticipation, but I
could tell I was getting very wet.

I was desperate for the orgasm. I needed it badly. I
arched my back, getting into the feeling of Adam’s
finger on my clitoris. He pulled his legs up and sat
Indian style next to me, always gently moving his finger
on my clit.

The next thing I knew, Adam put a finger of his other
hand inside me and slowly moved it in and out. I just
lay there, at least I thought I was lying there. I made
no attempt to move but my body responded automatically
to the erotic massage by twisting and writhing in time
with the finger movement. I was really feeling it now,
that familiar hungry, empty feeling inside that told me
I was getting seriously aroused.

Without thinking, I instinctively reached over and
grabbed his cock through his jeans and just squeezed it
rhythmically, in time with his stroking of my clit. I
was rotating my hips in time with it too, the feeling
building and building, my need getting stronger and
stronger.

I suddenly made a decision and grabbed his arm, pulling
it away from my clit and pulling him on his knees. I
reached for his pants and started pulling them down.
Adam was only happy to help. He quickly shed his shorts
and moved on top of me. His cock was rock hard.

He pushed into me and the craving to be filled was
satisfied. I couldn’t help but grunt with the force of
the insertion, the shock all up and down my vaginal
walls as his cock slid inside. It was like a jackhammer
as he moved in and out as fast as he could. I wrapped my
legs around his waist and could feel the flesh of my
sensuous calves hitting against his back.

Any embarrassment or unease I felt at being fucked by my
now adult son vanished. All I could think about was that
impending orgasm. The sensation grew stronger and
stronger. I could sense the climax building. I hadn’t
been fucked by anyone in over a year and my body really,
really needed it. I began to scream in a monolog of
fucking ecstasy.

“Oh Adam, fill me up. Shove your cock in me. You know
what turns me on. Do it to me! YES, YES, FUCK ME! BITE
MY TITS! HARDER, HARDER! I’M BEING FUCKED! OH, Adam, YOU
ARE FUCKING YOUR MOTHER. YOU ARE FUCKING ME! DON’T
STOP!”

“OH Adam, DRIVE INTO ME! SUCK MY TITTIES HARDER! FUCK
ME, FUCK ME! FUCK YOUR MOMMY’S CUNT! FUCK!”

When the climax hit, I could feel it down to my toes,
keeping me from being able to breathe. I was still in
the middle of my orgasm and I was rising to a second
peak when I felt Adam pulse and come inside me. It was
thoroughly satisfactory.

But he wasn’t done. He flipped me over and entered my
cunt from the rear, doggie style. First he put his arms
around my thighs and pulled me so close that I could
feel his balls slap against my buttocks. His hands
slipped under me and his strong fingers clutched my
breasts using my tits as reins to pull my body back and
forth. I could feel my passion rising, rising. MY GOD!
I’m going to cum again!

I felt my orgasm start to grow. The electric jolts
flowed through me from tits to cunt and everywhere in
between. My rigid legs told me that I was going to cum,
and soon. This time I was much quieter. At least at
first.

“I’m getting there,” I gasped, “now fuck me hard Adam.
Yes, yes, YES! It feels so good. You are making me cum.
I’m going to cum now. Your cock is deep in Mommy’s cunt.
You are fucking your Mommy. You are making me cum.

“YOU ARE MAKING YOUR MOMMY CUM AGAIN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!
PULL MY TITS HARDER! OH YES, YES! I’M HAVING ANOTHER
CLIMAX! I’M CUMMING! I’M CUMMING! I’M HAVING A BIG
CLIMAX NOW! I’M CCUUUMMMMIINNNGGG! YES! YES!”

Just at the final YES, I felt Adam’s ejaculation explode
in me.

Adam stayed with me the rest of the day helping me have
one climax after another. Sometimes he fucked me. Other
times he sucked my cunt. Still other times he played
with my tits while he finger fucked me to repeated
orgasms. It was much better than having to do it all
myself. Even after my need had diminished I relished his
fucking.

Adam wasn’t wearing a condom and I was off the pill. If
I got pregnant the child would be his brother or sister
as well as his son or daughter. It would be both my baby
and my grandchild. It would be tough to explain the
relationship to the new child.

After dinner Adam and I had a long talk. We each had a
couple of glasses of wine which certainly lowered our
inhibitions. He told me that in college he would lust
after an attractive girl, especially one with big tits
and nice legs, and devote his entire attention to her.
He would screw her a dozen times or so and then lose
interest.

He had no trouble finding compliant girls but he
couldn’t understand the fickleness of his emotions. I
had the instant insight that he was attracted to women
who resembled his mother, me. Adam still wanted to fuck
his Mommy. He had imprinted on me. Regardless of whom
his cock was in, he was still psychologically fucking
me.

Eventually he found that he missed his life at home and
wanted to visit. Just as I was blown away by seeing him
at the door, he was blown away by the sight of his Mom.
I was the woman he always wanted to fuck in person. No
imitation nymphet. I was the real thing.

Naturally Adam stayed the night. I put him in his old
room and we both went to bed before 10 p.m. I was
exhausted.

After breakfast the next day I drove Adam to the
airport. While we were waiting for him to board his
plane, he asked if I had any regrets about the last
evening.

“Not a one,” I replied. “I enjoyed it thoroughly and I
sincerely thank you for helping me out yesterday
afternoon. You are a wonderful mother fucker. We deserve
each other. But I’m not selfish. When you fuck other
girls be gentle with them. Especially the bimbos with
big tits and great legs. Think of me when you make love
to them.”

As he was boarding the plane, Adam promised to visit me
again when returned to the East Coast. I can’t wait.

(Visited 74 times, 1 visits today)
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