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My name is Sofia Ortega, once a wife of 25 years and mother of three boys. And my wild story begins when my middle son, Carlos, came home from his second year of college. He was nineteen at the time, and with the youngest son finally heading out for university himself, that meant Roberto, Carlos’s father, and I were finally going to have the house to ourselves for the first time in over twenty years. A mother and father, finally alone after many long years working hard and raising a family, and we were still young enough to enjoy marriage to its fullest.
Too bad that our marriage wasn’t going all that well.
Roberto’s attitude toward me changed after I had our children. Pregnancy had definitely changed my body in a way he didn’t like; Roberto had been attracted to me because I was very slim, and my breasts modest and perky.
After giving birth, my entire body had remodeled itself. My hips had grown exceptionally wider, my butt and thighs exploded in volume, and my breasts never reduced back to their original size after being flooded three times with breast milk for nursing.
It was shortly after that Rob’s interest in me waned, and from that point on, he couldn’t touch me without first getting drunk-which killed any enjoyment for me, especially since I didn’t find the taste or smell of alcohol very arousing. So neither of us enjoyed sex with the other very much, and over time the frequency fell to once a month…then three times a year, if we were lucky.
On top of that, I’m almost certain that Rob cheated on me multiple times. He was starting to keep secrets from me, and he would often get defensive if he thought I’d looked into his phone. To be fair, though, I was never able to catch him at it, and there was always an airtight alibi. Someone always managed to vouch for his whereabouts on the occasions he returned home late or not at all. He had lots of powerful friends in Tulsa,
The experience made me feel gross and fatigued-how could I drum up any confidence in my appearance when even my own husband didn’t want to touch me?
One day when I went into Carlos’s room looking for him and found his laptop sitting on his bed open and unlocked. I peeked briefly inside the room to ask him to help me with some laundry, and was immediately about to leave when I saw something that made me spin on my heels.
Carlos’s web browser was currently viewing an Incest Porn page-specifically, Mother-Son incest. I actually did a double take to make sure I read that correctly, but there it was, in 40-size font. The page was spread over with dozens of pictures of young men and middle-aged women doing dirty things to each other.
At that second, I heard footsteps behind me, along with a gasp of: “Oh, shit…!”
I spun around, my face frozen in a look of horror. Carlos, as well, was reflecting the same look back at me.
¿Carlos, Qué coño…?!” (Carlos, what the fuck…?!) I balked at him.
“It’s just, like, a fetish,” he defended. Though he tried to pass it off, he still dove past me, carrying the laptop from his bed to the desk, logging off, and closing it…clearly making an attempt to create distance from my discovery. He sat back in the chair, his foot fidgeting uncontrollably.
“Nobody who…who likes that stuff actually wants to bang their own relatives or anything. They just like the fantasy of it.”
Thinking too much about the details of all this made my head spin. But what could I really do? Carlos was a grown man, which had only become too apparent when teachers had caught him and a girl screwing at senior prom. I knew that he wasn’t a virgin, and he was no longer a child. He was an adult whose needs and desires were his own business.
That was the only thing that mattered, right?
And if the whole thing really was just a “fantasy”, then that was fine-wasn’t it?
Again, I didn’t want to think too much about it.
“Just be more careful next time and don’t leave stuff like that laying around. Believe me, my life was a lot happier before I had a clear picture of what my middle son did in his free time.”
I wished that could have been the end of it, but after that first instance, I found myself snooping into his personal things more often. Carlos tried to be careful-he usually remembered to lock the computer if he was going to leave it alone for some time, but not always. When I found the opportunity, I took it upon myself to pry into his business again…I told myself that it was because I was afraid that he could be into something a lot less “innocent” than what I’d seen before…like something illegal, or far even far more depraved…somehow.
I had to know, I said, because I needed to have peace of mind.
Looking through his tabs and history, though, it was mostly more of the same. Carlos sure spent a lot of time looking for porn-but then again, he was a nineteen-year-old boy. He still frequented incest-themed porn halkalı escort sites and videos, but I now learned that he also enjoyed reading blogs or forums with people who claimed that they had sex with-and in some case, even had children with-their own relatives.
His favorite pages were all about Mother-Son couples. Looking through the images, I could now see that he was probably right about most of them being fake-not many of the people in them looked like they were actually related. And some were clearly porn stars or professionals just milking the fantasy. As he’d said, people loved to imagine fucking relatives, but not many of them seemed actually willing to do it.
But, unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing I noticed.
I could also see the search tags that Carlos had searched for: “Latina.” “Bubble Butt.” “Curves.” “Big Tits.” As a result of that combo, I couldn’t help but notice that each of those women looked a little like me.
And the scary thing about it was…I had grown very wet downstairs just thinking about it!
Some time passed, and despite my best attempts to put that out of my mind, I failed miserably. I couldn’t sit in the same room as Carlos without checking his behavior, wondering if he looked at me the same as the women in those searches. I paid attention to every move, every gesture he made, and sometimes I thought I may have seen him staring at me. I felt hesitant and unsure, not knowing whether he was undressing me with his eyes at that very moment, or if it was simply my imagination getting away with me.
I would lay up night thinking about it. Eventually, the thoughts even invaded my dreams. More than once, my dreams involved various sexual scenarios between me and Carlos. Some of them with my consent, and some without.
One dream had Carlos and I meeting for a secret rendezvous; while I consciously realized the immorality of what I was doing, my body moving on its own and ignored my pleas to cease. Gazing into my son’s strong brown eyes, I unbuttoned his shirt, then undid his belt and unbuckled his belt and pants. One after another, my hands shed his clothes with a hurried rhythm. And finally, when he was finally undressed, I mounted him and sat slowly on his long cock, fully engorging myself upon it as the two of us began to thrust our conjoined bodies.
In another dream, Carlos directly propositioned me, telling me in no uncertain terms that I was born to become his woman and surrender my body to him. I would refuse such a foolish proposal, but as I turned to leave, his hand would catch my wrist and spin me back to face him. With a frightening, but powerful gaze in his eyes, Carlos would pin the one arm to the wall and forcefully kiss me, pushing his warm, slick tongue all the way down my throat. After almost smothering me with the kiss, he would pull away only to use his free hand to rip my blouse off of my body, and then my bra, exposing my tits for him to squeeze and grope at his leisure. Everything would move quickly after that, with every article of clothing stripped from my body and Carlos pounding me hard against the wall until he came inside my steaming wet pussy.
I dreamed of this countless times, with many variations in between. I would wake up next to my
husband at night soaked from head to toe, both in sweat and my own cum.
In late August, our community put together our Annual Pool Party, held in the luxurious backyard of one of our well-off neighbors. It was usually expected that everyone show up, as this was only one of three times in the year that the entire neighborhood got together…including my boss, who happened to be very close friends with Rob.
This year, the party was Hawaiian themed, so everyone was supposed to come dressed in stereotypical luau garb. I bought a simple grass skirt and a skimpy top that looked like it was made of flowers. Making my way to the host’s home, I was secretly proud of the many stops and stares I got in my direction, as it felt good that I could still turn heads even in my middle age.
I greeted the host’s wife, and we kissed each others’ cheeks while she took my contribution to the potluck. Inside, I saw several familiar faces mingling-as I said, we did this every year, so there weren’t many surprises on that level.
Though this year, I was surprised to find someone I hadn’t expected: Carlos.
I saw him standing near the poolside, enjoying some kind of drink. He was just standing and watching, but still swaying his body in rhythm to the music playing in the background. Our eyes met briefly, and when I waved, he waved back. I don’t think he realized it was me at first, as he performed an obvious double take and I definitely saw his eyes give me a deliberate look-over.
The look in his eye made my heart skip a beat. I had seen it over a hundred times, in my dreams.
That same look. harbiye escort
Right before we . . .
God, it made me so weak. All of my resolve, my willpower, just melted away under the shadow of that look.
I could feel something…happening inside me. It was like the parts of my mind which held my self-control and reason were just…shut off all of a sudden.
“Carlos…!” I called as I scampered closer to him.
“Hey, Mom…” he said, suddenly turning his head to glance around, first left, then right.
Then, he reached out and took firm grasp of my hand. “Come with me,” he said. “Over here.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask him what was going on before he pulled me aside, into a dark, empty room that looked like it hadn’t been meant for party guests. It was way too cluttered and lived-in. After Carlos and I went in, he took one last look outside to see if anyone were watching and then closed and locked the door.
This, too, was something I had seen dozens of times in my dreams. This exact scenario.
My brain knew what this was…what it meant…but my body refused to listen.
Without a word, Carlos swooped in, grabbed me and pulled me hard until our lips met.
My eyes went wide from shock, but I didn’t pull away. My heart was pounding, my mind racing. My body had turned into putty instantly.
We stayed that way for some time…minutes, maybe but it felt like lifetimes. Our lips locked, wrestling with each other, tasting each other. Carlos’s arms had released me, but then moved around to my back, where he began pulling me closer. I let myself become lost in his embrace.
When at last he pulled away, he took stock of my reaction, waiting to see what I’d say. How I’d react.
I indulged with a question. “I thought you said you didn’t really want that kind of stuff, on any serious level.”
“Well, I thought I didn’t, but…” My mouth went dry when I realized where his answer was going. “After you found out, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I couldn’t believe that Carlos-my own son-was actually standing there making a pass at me.
And I could believe even less that my body was responding to it!
But it wasn’t my fault. His father hadn’t told me that I looked good in a swimsuit in almost seven years. He liked me when I was thin-big hips and ass weren’t his thing-and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had sex that hadn’t just felt like marital obligation. I’d given him 25 years of my life, and three children, and now he acted like being married to me was a punishment.
How could I be to blame for how I responded to Carlos’s offer?
In addition to that, I freely admit that I was curious-Carlos was my son, but he was a grown man. And a good-looking one at that, I could admit. No matter the angle I looked at it, he had a perfectly willing cock, and I had a perfectly good pussy. Our bodies clearly didn’t care about any more specifics, so why should we?
“Shit,” I said…surprising him, and probably exciting him with my suddenly-filthy mouth. “Come on, hurry. Let’s do this before anything happens!”
He blinked for a moment, surprised at my acquiescence. But his shock was brief, and he pulled off his joggers with an eagerness that took me aback.
There was no foreplay. The two of us were still in disbelief, but so turned-on that we wanted to get started as fast as possible. We both knew how dirty this was-how unacceptable the line we were about to cross was-but we didn’t care. Our hormones were in control now, and we both wanted to sate them.
I bent myself over placing my hands firmly on the sheets of the guest bed, and Carlos came up behind me, took my hips in his hands, and slammed his dick home.
I groaned “Oh God,” immediately. It was happening. It was actually happening.
I licked my lips and just savored the feeling. My own son’s cock buried deep in me. He was nestled deep-by no exaggeration, deeper than his father had ever gone inside me. Carlos paused briefly to enjoy the moment himself, but it wasn’t long before his hips began slamming into my ass cheeks, sliding his meat in and out.
At about this time, you may be thinking: what about contraception? And that means that you are thinking more clearly than we were at the time. Even if it had crossed our mind, I think our mental state wouldn’t have allowed us to act. We had no intention of allowing anything to impede our forbidden acts, let alone something as improbable as a baby.
So when Carlos unleashed the torrent of his hot, milky seed, it went straight inside my cunt with nothing to stop it.
When we were done, we just stared at each other for a moment, then we both started laughing. Like, what the fuck were we doing? What had we done? If anyone found about this, let alone my husband, there was going to be so much hell to pay. We both knew that we’d created a secret between ikitelli escort us so taboo that it’d be something we held onto the rest of our lives.
And clearly, we both found that incredibly exciting.
“So? What do you think?” he asked me, breathing hard.
“I think we need to be somewhere else,” I told him, pulling my bottoms back up and wiggling them back into place. “Because from here on, this didn’t happen.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he said. He looked around, but remembered that he left his pants in the living room. “But other than that? Was it good?”
I sighed, losing the focus I was so very much trying to build to start sweeping this under the rug. But I realized that Carlos would never allow me to do that until his ego was satisfied.
“Yes, honey, yes. In case my muffled screaming didn’t convince you, you gave my pussy quite the enjoyable workout.”
Carlos beamed, and his cock re-stiffened a little. I pointed, and he finally pulled his pants back on and left the room. A few minutes later, I left to go clean up in the bathroom. I made sure to clean and wash the smell of sex as thoroughly off my body as I possibly could, although the aroma never quite went away for me. I could still smell it even hours later, while Carlos and I mingled with other guests at the party, pretending that absolutely nothing had happened.
In 25 years of marriage, this was the first straying I had ever done, and I still couldn’t believe it’d happened. Although I also imagined that if it weren’t for those circumstances, and the sheer kinkiness involved, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.
Carlos moved out, back to his university three days later. Between that time, he and I avoided being in the same room alone with each other, because every time we were, there were these awkward looks and pauses.
Not regret, or shame…
Just something else. Something I don’t think either of us could describe.
My monthly visitor in September was a no-show.
I waited an extra week to be sure, but the morning sickness answered the burning question for me. I knew what this meant. I knew what had caused it. And I knew I was screwed.
But boy did I not know how screwed I was.
The worst case scenario happened-my husband got a call from the clinic where I’d gotten myself tested. They didn’t tell him anything, but the name popped up on the Caller ID as “HOPE MATERNITY”. When he confronted me about it, things went badly in a hurry.
Initially, I lied and said it was his-what else could I do? He pressed me, hard. He asked why didn’t tell him about the baby. He asked how far along was my pregnancy and how long I’d known. He asked how come I’d gone to some unknown clinic instead of our family doctor. He wanted to see my belly.
I followed all of his demands, doing my damnedest to tell the best story I could…but it wasn’t long before I slipped up. Rob had a memory like a steel trap and quickly deduced that we hadn’t so much as touched each other during the weeks that I conceived. I started to sweat feverishly, and my answers became more rushed and sloppy. I forgot details of my story, and my lies just revealed more lies. It wasn’t long before I finally broke down on the couch and confessed that I had cheated.
Rob went quiet and turned ghost white. He took a long deep breath before standing from the couch and staring down at me with the most murderous eyes I’d ever seen. I seriously thought I was a dead woman for a moment.
He told me he wanted me out of the house by the next night, and slammed the door when he left.
That was the last time I ever saw him, or spoke to him, instead of hearing his words through a lawyer.
And he was busy while he was gone. The next thing I knew, my phone was blowing up with voice mails, texts, emails, and instant messages. Rob had called everybody. Our friends. Our neighbors. His parents. My parents. And my boss, the good friend I’d mentioned before. That call I answered, even though I didn’t want to, because I knew it would be him telling me that I was fired. My contract was terminated, and so were my benefits, including my healthcare.
Fortunately for me, during his little revenge-spree, Rob had also called the kids, including Carlos.
“Are you doing alright?” he asked, calling me on my cell.
“Not really,” I sobbed, alone in my hotel room.
Then, he asked me the big question. “It’s mine, isn’t it?” Of course, I answered truthfully.
“Then, I need to do the right thing, don’t I? I’ll send you some money for a plane ticket.”
“For what?” I asked.
“To move here with me, of course,” he said. “I’ll have to call in some favors, but I’ll make it happen. We are going to be parents, after all.”
When he hung up, those words echoed in my head repeatedly.
“We are going to be parents…”.
My own son had said that to me.
And how fucked in the cabeza was I that it turned me on?
After I arrived in the airport the next afternoon, Carlos and I went to his dorm. He showed me around, let me get comfortable, and let me know that I could help myself to whatever was in teh fridge.
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