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My name is Rebecca and I am 34 years old and I have a story to tell.

I was the only child of small town parents whose names I cannot bring myself to say. My father was an accounts clerk for the large major employer in town. This company was owned by another family whose name I refuse to even let pass my lips.

They were ‘old money’, privileged and thought the whole world was theirs by right. My father was a subservient little man who thought likewise and saw his role as being slavish to ‘his betters’.

I was sixteen on the fateful day which would forever change my life. My parents were beside themselves with foolish pride as they prepared me for a date at a concert. I was young but they had decided that it would be ok for me to go with him, as his family were rich – therefore respectable.

I was going with the son of the mill owner.

Oh how they had boasted at the club when he asked me.

The evenings proceedings are irrelevant, the whole point of this story revolves around what happened at the end of the night.

I felt a little dizzy and a little woozy as my date led me to his car. I couldn’t understand why, as I had drank very little.

The upshot of all this was waking up in the woods in his car. He was outside in the dark smoking a cigarette when I came to. I was confused and disorientated but as my head slowly cleared, it became obvious that my clothing had been tampered with.

That was the least of my worries.

As I moved I felt the wetness between my legs, shakily I felt myself.

I was sodden in my panties and when I removed my hand from myself I looked at my fingers.

They were covered in blood and a white sticky substance.

I had been raped.

Under the influence of alcohol or drugs or whatever he had given me, he had violated my body. I started to scream at him and tried to hit him with my fists. He very arrogantly just held my wrists and laughed at me.

On my arrival home, I ran to my parents crying hysterically and blubbering out all that had happened. The rich boy stood by his car, arrogant and unworried as though he was untouchable and above the law. When my father (respectfully) demanded to know from him what had happened, he told my father that we had had sex and that I had begged him for it.

My father, being a miserable, pathetic and subservient man, who thought the rich family to be his betters, believed him. That night he told me that I had shamed him because ‘people like them wouldn’t possibly lie.’

My pregnancy changed things – for the worse. People now thought me a little slut who had got herself knocked-up because she couldn’t keep her legs together. No one would believe me, even my parents still thought me to be a tramp.

A few weeks later my parents disowned me, threw me out and I found myself in a hostel for unmarried mothers.

My reputation followed me where ever I went. My rapist’s family, in a desperate bid to protect their son, used power, money and influence to besmirch me and blacken my name.

In the hostel I made no friends except one girl who was in the same boat as I was.

Nine months after my rape I gave birth to a beautiful little boy who I named Tom.

Due to my position and condition, I had to put myself at the mercy of the welfare. They placed me in a low-rent shit hole on the worst estate that you can imagine. My life took no turn for the better, as even the local scum looked down on me and assumed my unmarried status showed me to be a dirty slut.

For years I struggled to make my way on my own. I had a friend now and she would look after Tom for me while I did evening work and tried to make ends meet. All I could ever get for employment was minimum wage drudgery, as everyone who ever interviewed me for a decent job, shunned me – as the immoral unmarried mother.

The only attention I ever received from men was the worst kind. They all simply expected me to sleep with them at the drop of a hat, because I was a slut.

The irony of all this terrible reputation that I endured, was that I actually considered myself a virgin. I had neither deliberately nor consciously given myself to a man, the only evidence of such had been between my legs all that time ago and my baby boy sat on my knee now.

Throughout the next few years I determined to keep my self respect even though I received none from anyone else. I kept my dignity and brought my child up clean, tidy and respectable. Tom was taught right from wrong and was a studious and respectable pupil at school. However even Tom was shunned by his peers as the bastard son of ‘Rebecca the slut’.

Although Tom and myself were both attractive in both face and body, no one wanted anything to do with us for fear of peer pressure. I am sure that both of us would have attracted plenty of attention from the opposite sex had it not been for ‘our’ reputation.

Some days I would be stoic and think to hell with everyone else but some days I was desperately sad, not just for myself but for what my innocent son was being forced bursa escort to endure because of me.

Then suddenly one day our lives changed, I won the lottery.

Don’t get me wrong this wasn’t hundreds of millions but it was tens of thousands and I meant to use the money wisely.

Suddenly I could now afford a higher bond on a rental property and I could afford the higher rent on a nicer house in a better area. My son was now eighteen and was hoping to go to university. We moved town and house but the old problem now had a different context, we had both become so insular and didn’t mix, that now we found ourselves alone even still.

I struggled to make new friends and found that I was still unhappy. I may have had a little money to ease the pressure on me, yet I was terribly lonely.

One day Tom came home with a few cuts and bruises on his face. When I asked him what had happened he didn’t want to tell me but I eventually squeezed enough out of him to get the gist of it. He had been fighting a boy to defend my reputation, I needn’t say more!

It was all too much, my life ruined by a rapist, the loneliness and unhappiness terrible but yet even worse, now my son was having his life destroyed by the same thing.

I cried and cried and cried.

I found myself stood in the kitchen in my son’s arms, the crying had stopped and I dabbed at my eyes. At that point I had never needed a man so much in my life. Oh how I desperately wanted a man to hold me, to feel the warmth and security and to revel in the glow of mutual love and attraction.

I raised my head and looked into Tom’s eyes,

“Don’t worry mum, he said, I love you more than you can ever know.”

With that he bent his head and kissed me incredibly softly on the lips. It was just one peck but it lingered maybe one second longer than you would expect such a kiss to last. Still gazing into my upturned face and holding my eyes with his, he slowly bent again and kissed me again.

My heart was doing somersaults and by the third time he ever so lightly brushed my expectant lips with his, I was going under fast.

The fourth little peck that he gave me simply turned into one long kiss. I knew this was so very, very wrong, yet I needed Tom, I needed his love, I needed his affection and I so desperately needed his lips on mine.

I needed a man.

I had never felt what it was like to be held and caressed by a man. I was a young woman still and I knew I had a very attractive face and figure, yet as I said before, in my own eyes I was still a virgin. I know you will think that to be nonsense as the very presence of my son made that impossible but I truly believed myself to morally be still a virgin.

My son and I held each other and kissed for what seemed like a lifetime, until I eventually broke away. Nervous, embarrassed and very afraid, I straightened my hair and I stammered,

“Oh thanks Tom my love, I just needed someone to hold me,” I said as nonchalantly as possible, acting as though nothing had happened.

But something had happened and after Tom made his way to his bedroom, his brain in a confused and muddled mess, I sat and thought…

Sometime later I knocked on my son’s bedroom door.

“What is it mum?” He asked.

“Can I come in darling,” I said.

“Yeah sure mum, come in,” was the reply.

I entered his bedroom and stood a few feet from his bed. No words were spoken, as my shaking, trembling and very frightened fingers pulled apart the belt around my robe. I shrugged it from my shoulders and it fell to the floor with a loud ‘flump’.

I stood naked before my son.

“Oh Jeez mum,” Tom whispered, his eyes glued to my naked body. I watched as his eyes roamed over my breasts and lowered themselves to the junction of my legs.

“Please baby,” was all I managed to say.

Tom slid from the bed and approached me, then he unexpectedly took my hand and led my out of the room. The short walk from his room, across the landing and into my bedroom, was incredibly exciting and symbolic. Being naked and my son still being fully dressed, somehow made me feel extra naked and exposed.

Tom led me to my own bed and sat down. I stood naked before him and moved to stand between his legs. I bent to kiss him, my breasts swinging forward provocatively, my son cupping them in his hands.

It was the first time that I had ever felt a man’s hands on my body. I shivered involuntarily at his touch.

After kissing again, I stood upright which left my breasts pointing straight at Tom’s face. I have hard, high and proud breasts still and I watched rapt as my son leant forward and flicked one of my hard erect nipples with his tongue.

A quiet gasp escaped my lips.

Tom delicately sucked each pink throbbing bud into his mouth in turn, whilst gently squeezing the rest of my breast in his hand.

My head went back involuntarily and I closed my eyes and simply felt the wonderful suction and caress on my nipples.

Yet I also wanted to watch, so I forced myself to look bursa escort bayan down again at my child who had nursed and fed on those breasts so long ago, now returned to them to arouse me sexually.

Tom stood and I instinctively climbed onto the bed. I lay back and watched as my boy bared his body to me. His penis looked quite big as it arched away from his body but being in the confines of his trousers, it had not been able to fully erect itself.

Now free of any constraint, I watched terrified as the long, thick, meaty shaft swelled. It slowly lengthened and straightened, his foreskin slowly peeling back unaided, as his erection became full, the big mushroom head turning a dark purple as it engorged with blood.

Tom climbed onto the bed and knelt at my feet. Slowly I took the next step towards the terrible taboo that was fast approaching. I opened my legs and let my knees fall apart exposing my vagina to my son.

I was sodden, the lips glistening with my excitement and the shame.

Tom lowered himself between my legs and propped himself on his arms. There was to be no foreplay and no delay. I felt the huge crown of his penis touch me and I stiffened in fear. I then felt the touch again as it pressed into me a little harder and I felt the lips of my vagina being spread slightly. As my son eased himself into my tight opening, he stopped and just played the big bulbous head of his penis between my lips and the tight ring of my sex. He just opened me a little then eased back, only to return a moment later to tease my quivering, frightened vagina again.

It was starting to tease me and drive me crazy, I wanted my son to slide into me fully. My vagina was trying to clench on him, my quivering and expectant walls trembling in anticipation for his long thick rod.

Then at last, my son pushed slowly but steadily into me and I felt myself open to him. My insides were stretched apart and I felt every inch of him slide along my trembling pink walls.

After inch by beautiful inch, he was inside me.

I had just given my virginity (I know, I know) to my own son.

For the first time in my life I had felt a man’s penis enter me and it belonged to my son.

The next few minutes were the most wonderful in my life. As my son slowly eased in and out of me I felt my whole body responding. The build up to orgasm came quickly due to the incredible intensity of the situation. I looked at Tom, the poor boy was hanging on for dear life, the magnitude of the illicit moment being too intense for him also. Even as inexperienced as I was, I still knew he was already trying not to cum, I knew that he loved me and he was doing it for me.

Suddenly the orgasm struck and it gave me very little warning.

The physical mixture of the ‘first’ penis inside me, the wonderful sensation it gave me and the feeling of being full and stretched, was quite simply stunning. Yet combined with the incredibly arousing mental situation, that it was my own son taking (my virginity) me, the embarrassment, the shame and the fear, made such a heady and exciting cocktail, that when my climax burst through me, it left me gasping, writhing and screaming underneath my son. It was the most unbelievable feeling that I could never have imagined prior to that fateful day.

“Mum, I’m going to cum, I can’t hold on” Tom gasped.

“Oh yes darling please, please cum inside me, I want your semen inside my body,” I begged.

My son stiffened, pushed himself as far into me as he could possibly go and held himself still. All I could feel was his beautiful penis twitching and jerking inside me and all I could here were tiny little gasps of,

“Oh mum.”

Tom lay on top of me whilst we recovered from the mind blowing experience. He slowly pulled his flaccid, yet still long length from me. I had no idea how long it would take for his semen to leak from me, so I was quite surprised when his penis was immediately followed out of me by a river of brilliant white, thick and virile semen.

I jumped up and very un-lady like, I scuttled across the bedroom with my hand between my legs to the bathroom. I deliberately left the door wide open, so that my son could watch his mother letting his cum flow from her vagina into the toilet. I then stood and made sure that he was watching, as I balled up some toilet paper and squatted slightly to clean myself between my legs.

Don’t ask me why I thought doing this was important – I just sensed that if I ran away for privacy now, that it would somehow cheapen what we had done. To this aim when I came from the bathroom I deliberately took my time getting back to the bed. I wanted Tom to look at my nakedness, I stopped halfway across the room to try and make my nudity in front of him normal and not seedy.

We lay in each others arm, me with my head on his chest whilst he toyed with my hair.

We didn’t speak.

Eventually Tom said rather nervously,

“Mum, do you think?… I mean…, would it be ok?…can you?… you know…”

“What darling? Just say it baby,” escort bursa I said.

“Do you think that we could do it again?” he asked sheepishly.

“Oh Tom sweetheart, of course we can,” I replied, seeing his eyes light up when he realized the potential that my answer suggested.

We both realised something different but as equally important at that moment. Tom realised that this was not simply a one-off, it was not just one crazy moment. He knew at that point that we would make love again (and again and again?)

I also realised that the life changing incident was destined to repeat itself. A one-off aberration, a moment of weakness, a crazy stupid moment in life, could possibly be excused or explained away as an extraordinary insanity in the heat of the moment.

To make love with my son a second time took away any chance of rationalising what we had done as a moment of weakness.

I wanted not just a man inside me again – I specifically wanted Tom my son to be inside me again.

Just as the first time, the love making was pure and simple. His eager and throbbing erection needed no stimulation and for the second time I simply lay back and opened my legs to my son. This time it was slow and tender, the eager passion already pumped into my hidden depths by him had gone.

I felt his big penis slide into me and take me to heaven and back, unhurried, carefully and tenderly.

We came together professing our love for each other.

That night I slept naked in my son’s arms. I felt a warm, contented and satisfied woman, with the first piece of true happiness that she had ever known.

The next morning I was again afraid that in the cold light of day what we had done would feel sordid, tacky and cheap. I wanted Tom to feel at ease around me, so after showering I made a deliberate point of remaining naked in front of him for as long as I could.

It was surreal, to sit at my dressing table naked, my quite large yet still hard and proud breasts swaying when I moved, whilst Tom made no pretence or offered no apology for watching me transfixed.

I turned to face him and picked up my panties. As I slid them up my thighs and reached the black curly triangle between my legs, I hesitated and playfully teased him for one more moment before pulling the lace over my mound and hiding it from him. The coquettish act giving him yet another erection, which unfortunately we had no time to cure.

Throughout the day I was in turmoil. I was nervous, excited, turned on, horny and damn wet, yet I was also scared, frightened and afraid of what I had done and what the consequences could be. When I realised just how dangerous the situation was I made a decision.

Before I put the rules into place that I had decided upon, I wanted Tom once more.

That evening after eating and doing the dishes Tom went to his room to study. I gave him plenty of time, then turning off the TV and the lights I followed him up.

I knocked and entered his bedroom, he had finished studying and was getting ready to come to my bed. I stood in his arms by his bed and we kissed. It was incredibly strange to kiss him, yes we had made love, yet kissing your own son in this manner was surreal.


“What darling,”

“Will you suck my cock?”

I was shocked and stunned.

Just as making love a second time had ‘sealed the deal’ so to speak, then performing oral sex on my son would propel things even further. The request shocked me.

I was also shocked at the language he had used. In my life without sex and without a man, my terminology had stayed quite juvenile. My breasts, vagina, his penis, had all been the words I had used in my thoughts as things were happening. Now my son wanted me to suck his cock and the breathtakingly provocative idea, thrilled and excited me with the illicit immorality of the act.

“I will do anything for you.” I said, trying to hide my own sudden rush of passion in my mind and between my legs. The excitement, with the knowledge of the act I was about to perform, was a huge turn on.

This was again met with a look of wonderment in his eyes as he realised that his mother was going to suck him off.

I slid to my knees before him, dragging his sweat pants down as I went. I was on my knees in front of my own son, his large cock just inches from my expectant lips. I leant forward and kissed the head of his cock before taking him in my hand and slowly sliding my hot mouth over his helmet. Tom groaned as I slid his huge rock hard organ further into my mouth until I could take no more. As I sucked his throbbing crown and licked up along the wonderful shaft, Tom spoke again, quite confidently.

“Mum, suck my balls and look at me while you are doing it,” he ordered.

A thrilling shock ran through me at his command and I lowered myself further to take one of his balls into my mouth. As I rolled it around inside and swirled my tongue around it, I never took my eyes off his. Alternating between taking his testicles in my mouth and moving up to engulf his cock with my lips I worked on my son.

After a long time teasing his thick pulsating meat, Tom’s breathing was beginning to get shallow and more like panting, his legs had begun to tremble and I knew he was getting close.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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