My mother and I;

Mom had invited me to go to Martinique with her for the Christmas holiday.

I knew it was just because she had already bought the tickets before
splitting up with her latest toy boy, but the thought of getting away
from the snowbound university was terribly appealing. And it would be
good to spend some time with my mother. I didn't see her enough since
she split up with my father 10 years ago.

Everything is completely booked down there in that season, so we
couldn't get a second room. Nonetheless, we both had a great time. For
the first week I was enjoying myself with an Italian housewife on �A
holiday from her husband and children�. Mom had picked up a very nice
looking man in his early 30s. I found it slightly kinky that my
girlfriend was older than Mom�s boyfriend.

It was all perfect until the plane that should've carried us back home
failed on the runway.

By the time the airline finally admitted defeat we�d been cooped up in
there for hours. There was a shortage of hotels on the island, and by
the time we got to the one they had found for us we were completely
exhausted.

When the hotel clerk announced �Mr. and Mrs. James; room 108.� We
didn't bother to correct him; we just took the key and went up.

It was a small room, with a double bed. Not a huge double bed, either.

My mom was never one to be too uptight about things; we both stripped
down to our underwear, climbed in, and fell asleep in short order.

That's when the trouble started.

I'm not going to pretend that I didn't feel very self-conscious about
being in bed with my mother. I should probably say here at my mother is
a very sexy woman of about 45 years. To be in close proximity with her
was to feel her sexual aura; that can be a little bit disturbing if you
happen to be her son. It had never been a problem before, but I'm not
going to pretend that forbidden thoughts and images had never come to my
mind.

I had a dream; I was kissing my mother, romantically. Her hands were
all over my body, she was pulling on my penis; she was giving me head.
Even in my dream, I was conflicted about it all. But like you do in
dreams, I went ahead with it anyway.

My mother is an aerobics nut, and her slim muscular body shows the
benefit; I was holding her tightly, kissing the nipples of her small but
still full breasts.

I woke up. I was lying on my back; my cock was hard as a rock, half of
it sticking up through the waistband of my underwear.

Mom was snoring loudly, her head in the crook of my right arm, her right
thigh hooked over mine, and her hand on my penis. For real.

It was pretty confusing; the realization that this was actually
happening. I was afraid if I moved she would wake up, and that would be
incredibly embarrassing to us both. Not just because her hand had found
her own son�s cock; but because her son's cock was achingly hard at her
touch.

So I lay silent and still, enjoying the sexual stimulation and trying to
figure out a way to stop enjoying it. I supposed she would just roll
over after a while, and I could consign this little episode to the
deepest, most secret sexual fantasy area of my memory.

�How long have you been awake?� My mother asked me suddenly. I hadn't
even realized that the snoring had stopped.

I didn't move, and neither did she. Her hand was still on my penis. My
penis was still erect.

�A few minutes.� I answered her.

�This is interesting.� Mom observed.

�You think so?� I asked.

�Definitely.� She replied.

Jesus, I couldn't believe it. Mom had had a lot of boyfriends, some of
them much younger than herself. She always dressed and looked perfect;
she never had any trouble picking up any man she chose. It had bothered
me sometimes, but I'd become used to it. But this; I never expected
anything like this.

�The last taboo.� She said; �Incest. Far out.�

�Maybe you'd better let go, mom.� I suggested.

�Really? Why? It seems to me you're enjoying it.� She said.

�Are you?� I asked.

�Yes.� She replied, �I didn't plan this, Marty.�

�I know you�re pretty devious, mom, but I didn't think you could arrange
for a plane to break down.�

�Do you think we should do it?� She asked me.

�God damn, mom; you're a shrink. How can you ask me a question like that?�

�Psychologist, dear. I'm a psychologist. And that's exactly how I can
ask you a question like that.� Her hand was no longer static; she was
pulling my prick gently between her thumb and fingers, rolling it and
stimulating it, testing it for firmness.

�Do you know of any reason why we shouldn't?� She continued, �It's all
just dogma, this idea about incest. As long as we don't make babies,
what harm does it do?�

�I-I don't know. But it couldn't be healthy.� I said.

�But it could be great fun.� Mom continued, �You sure seem to like it.
No one would ever know, never.�

My mother's mouth while speaking these words was coming closer and
closer to mine; as her sentence finished, there was contact; it was
somehow more intimate, more final, than her hand that was still sliding
around on my sexual organ.

It was hesitant and unsure, that first kiss. But as no thunder sounded,
no lightning struck, it continued to grow in its confidence; soon my
mother�s lips were sliding across mine, her teeth were griping the edges
of my mouth.

It was a normal thing for me to hug and kiss my mother; but not on the
lips, not in bed, and not with her tongue sneaking into my mouth and her
hand on my cock.

�My God, this is incredible.� Mom said, �I haven't been this excited in
years. What are you feeling?�

�I�m not sure. This is really weird.� I said.

Her thin but strong body was against mine, her full breasts were
pressing into my chest; her free hand was behind my neck, and her mouth
came to mine again. Of their own accord, my hands slid over her body;
her slim curvy hips, her well toned little ass. Mom�s skin was smooth,
silky to the touch.

�We're so dirty.� She said.

�Then perhaps we should stop.� I suggested again.

�Let's have a bath.� She said, �It's been a hot and sweaty 24 hours.
Let's have a bath and fool around.�

There wasn't much I could do to eliminate my raging hard on. While the
bath filled, my mother kneeled between my spread legs, toying with my
genitals.

�What do you feel?� She asked me again.

�Conflict.� I replied.

�Go on.�

�I'm turned on, but everything I've ever been taught is screaming at me
that I shouldn't be.�

�Let's see if we can throw away all that Christian guilt culture.� My
mother suggested. �Let�s just be natural.�

�You think this is natural?� I asked.

�I don't know. There's lots of debate about what�s natural.� My mother
said, before lowering her head over my penis.

Natural or not, it was impossible to deny how good it felt; a warm
friendly mouth on my dick is the most wonderful thing; I wondered if it
being my mother made the sensation better or worse.

�Yuck, that's disgusting.� My mother said, and I thought that perhaps
this little experiment was at an end. �You�re all sticky. Let's have
that bath, then try it again.� She said.

We lay together in the bathtub, our asses in contact, her feet on my
shoulders, and mine against her breasts. The hot water did nothing to
lower my libido, and neither did my mother's continuing manual
stimulation to my cock and balls.

�It's been a long time since we've had a bath together, Marty.� Mom
laughed, as my toes scraped over her stiff nipple. So strange to think
that I�d been nourished by that nipple once.

It was unbelievable that a person, a mother, would want to do something
like this. Well, it was unbelievable that a person would ADMIT to
wanting to do something like this. And yet, somehow here we were;
calmly heading towards sex. Indeed, it was sex already. I hadn't put
it in her yet, but if this wasn't sex, then I don�t know what it was.

�This is pretty perverse.� I observed.

�You�re right, darling, it definitely is. But perversion�s all the rage
these days; why, in some places they�re letting gay people get married.�

�Homosexuality isn�t considered perversion these days, Mom.�

�My point exactly. Today gay is good; tomorrow incest is okay.�

There was a great sloshing and splashing as mom shifted forward, and lay
against me. Her breasts in soft contact, her hands behind my head, her
pubic hairs were tickling the shaft of my dick that was like a hot steel
rod jutting up between her thighs. Her lips met mine again; softly at
first, as we carefully explored our perverse forbidden lust. Then her
tongue penetrated my weak moral defenses, and the two of us traveled
together down the road of incest.

Mom does have a sweet ass, I found myself thinking as I ran my hands
over the round fleshy cheeks. So odd that my large body had once lived
inside her small one.