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Horny Incest Story
09-26-2012, 01:18 PM
Post: #31
RE: Horny Incest Story
The next evening I decided to play some more naked games with Andy. I lay relaxing by the side of the pool in a sexy top and mini. As I saw my son return home after a game of baseball, I looked at him sexily and dropped my top. Then I got up. I was walking ahead of him and looking back at him. Then I dropped my mini skirt too. He continued to walk behind me. I got rid of my bra and tossed it away. He was still walking in behind me. I moved in. I was standing just outside my bedroom when I slipped off my panties too. I spread myself naked on the bed as my lusty son looked on. He joined me in bed and kissed me.

He sucked my tits and I undressed him and we got busy fucking each other.

"Mom, say something hot to drive me crazy."

"Oh Andy, just fantasize fucking momma in front of dad." I could feel his cock getting harder in my pussy.

"Oh mom, you are a real slut."

He was now banging me harder than before. I experienced some of the best orgasms of my life.


Andy asked me for more hot ideas.

"Let us go and stay in a hotel and have a honeymoon."

Andy and I landed up in a hotel by the beach. After a hot fucking session, Andy slept and I ordered some coke for myself.

I decided to tease the hotel boy. I wore a sexy pair of bra and panties. I opened the hotel room's door and landed up in the bathroom. I heard the hotel boy's footsteps.

"Here, I want it in the bathroom." I called out for the hotel boy. He walked up to the bathroom door which was all open. I was showering myself in my bra and panties.

"Wow, I just love your prompt service." I unhooked my bra and dropped it to expose my boobs to him. I noticed the big bulge in his trousers.

"Just keep the can over there." I pointed to the shelf.

He put the can down. I decided to get rid of my panties.

I lost no time in removing my panties in front of him. I was standing naked giving him a complete view as he looked on stunned.

In the next few days, Andy and I entertained the hotel boy to some sizzling incestuous exhibitionism. We even made him watch and masturbate to our mother fucking sessions.

A week later, Greg, my husband, arrived home to spend a few days with us. Greg was in the bathroom for an evening shower when Andy hugged me from behind. He put his hand inside my top. He was feeling my tits.

"No Andy no, your dad is back home. And he is going to be out of the bathroom in no time."

"Oh mom...don't you have exhibitionist fantasies. You'll love it if your son bangs in front of your husband."


"Please Andy try to understand."

He just would not listen. He got rid of my top and cupped my bra cups in his hands.

"Not in front of my husband, darling"

He kept going and slipped down my mini skirt.

"You'll love it you whore."

Then he unhooked my bra and threw it away. I could not even scream because my husband in the shower would get to know. I could only whisper.


"No...Andy....no"

Andy now had his hand inside my panties. He was feeling my ass.

"Just think of the exhibitionist pleasures you whore, in any case dad needs to know what a slut you are."

I was beginning to enjoy it all. I was now moaning and whispering with pleasure.

"Yes Andy, pull down momma's panties. Make your momma naked."

Just then the bathroom door opened and my husband walked out naked.

But I was enjoying my son's lustful moves so much I just could not stop myself from screaming, "Pull down your momma's panties. Make your momma naked. Fuck your mom, you mother fucker. Show you dad what a slut, what a whore your mom is." My husband was watching. But I just could not care.

Andy pulled my panties down to make me naked. He tossed away my panties for Greg to catch them.

Andy was now fucking me naked as my husband looked on disbelief. I saw my husband's little cock rise into a huge erection.

It was my hottest exhibitionist fantasy come true. My son was fucking me naked as my husband watched.

By midnight, I was enjoying a threesome with my son and husband. The next day, I showed Andy his secret diary with another slut like smile on my face.

"Mom, you can keep it with you." Andy has gifted me his secret diary.

A couple of weeks later, I got another offer from a magazine to pose in my birthday suit for them. I have accepted the offer to pose naked. I know how desperately my son and husband are waiting for my naked pictures to appear in the magazine.

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09-26-2012, 04:35 PM
Post: #32
RE: Horny Incest Story
"Hi Mum," I heard my son's voice call out. "I'm home." I turned and looked up from the flower bed I was weeding to see Andy clicking his camera. Andy's always been keen on photography but it is such an expensive hobby with all that processing and printing so, for his birthday a couple of months ago, I bought him a mid-range digital camera. Now he clicks at anything in sight. You should see some of his flower close-ups: he has a knack of getting them just right.

I brushed an errant lock of hair back from my face and smiled, “Look at the state of me!” I was aware that I was wearing an old pair of jeans and an old shirt – both of them now smudged with soil marks but that didn't seem to bother him: he just clicked away.

“That's fine, Mum,” he assured me. “Looks good, looks natural.”

“I'll show you natural,” I said, standing up and going towards him waving my muddy hands towards his face.

He shrieked in mock horror, “Don't you dare!”

“Then don't you dare takes pictures of me in this state! I'm about done anyway. Let me get cleaned up and we can have our meal out here in the sun. Sandwiches and cola OK?”

“Sandwiches and wine would be better. And put your glad rags on if you don't want me to photo you in those old things.”

I went up to the bathroom, stripped and jumped under a cool shower – I was all hot and persipring from working under the hot sun all afternoon. I towelled down then looked at myself in the long mirror. “Hmm,” I thought, “not bad for 37.” My tummy was tight and my C-cup boobs were still firm. Just a couple of extra pounds around the hips.

Andy's father had left me for a 'younger model' five years ago – leaving me with a 13-year-old boy to raise. Fortunately I had a small private income from a legacy which, with the maintenance I was getting from Andy's father, left us reasonably comfortable. The house was mine, from my parents' estate: a modest place but with a large secluded garden which was my love.

I threw my bathrobe around me and returned to my bedroom where I selected plain white cotton bra and pants and a light knee-length summer button-through dress with an open neckline. I had made the sandwiches earlier so I only had to retrieve them from the fridge. I grabbed a bottle of wine and took it all out to the picnic table in the back garden.
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09-26-2012, 04:35 PM
Post: #33
RE: Horny Incest Story
Andy joined me after a couple of minutes with a couple of pages of pictures he'd printed off. He passed them over to me and I handed him the bottle to open. I looked through the pics and realised that they were very good. We sat down and Andy poured the wine. I passed him a plate of sandwiches and continued to look over the pictures. I had to chuckle at the sight of me with a streak of mud over my face where I had brushed my hair back and I told Andy not to take any more pics of me like that.

“OK,” he said, “when we're finished you can pose for me as you are. You're pretty enough like that. Deal?”

“Deal, you flatterer!” I smiled.

When we finished the sandwiches, Andy cleared the detritus of the meal away then moved my lounger away from the table. He had me sit in the chair and took a couple of portrait-type pictures from the front and sides. He adjusted the back of the lounger so I was half-reclined and told me to lie back and relax as if I were sunbathing. I could hear his camera clicking away.

“Run you fingers through your hair ...” Click. “Raise your right leg over your knee ...” Click. “Dangle your sandal from your toes ...” Click. “Give me a bit of thigh ...” I was beginning to feel like a model with a professional photographer as I allowed my hem to slide back a little, revealing a couple of inches above my knee. “Great ...” Click, click, click as he moved around me.

“Up you get, Mum. Sit on the edge of the table, hands on your knees ...” I complied. Click. Hands behind you and lean back ...” Click. “Hold it there ...” Andy made a slight adjustment to the folds of my skirt. Click. “Look to your left ... look to your right ...” Click, click.

Next he had me shuffle back so my legs were straight out on the table. He clicked away as he had me turn my head and body various ways. “Raise your left knee half way, foot on the table ...” Click. “Bit of thigh ...” Click, click. “Knee right up ...” he pulled a little at the folds of my skirt. Click. “Pop the bottom two buttons of your skirt, Mum.” I did so, allowing my thigh to be exposed to half way. “Magic ...” He moved around, clicking the camera. “Roll onto your tummy. Elbows on the table and prop your chin in your hands ...” Click. “Bend your right knee. That's it, all the way ...” Click. “Hands on the table, arch your back. Yes, head back, stretch ...” Click. “One foot up ...” Click. “Both feet ...” Click, click. “Damn!”
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09-26-2012, 04:35 PM
Post: #34
RE: Horny Incest Story
I looked over to him with a query. “Card's full! Let me go and upload these onto my computer. Want to see them?”

I sure did want to see how they had turned out so I followed him to his room. I sat at his shoulder as we went through the pictures. A few of them weren't too good but mostly they were very clear.

“You're a good model, Mum,” he commented as he clicked through the shots. Then I froze at a couple of the pictures – where I was on my back with my knee raised. Right up my dress showing all my thighs with my white pants clearly visible. “Andy,” I exclaimed, “they're indecent.”

“Pshaw, Mum, you show much more when you're in your bikini. Is that indecent?”

“Hmm,” I murmured, non-comittedly and watched as the rest of the pictures clicked through. Near the end of the sequence, I noticed that I was showing a lot of cleavage and in two shots my bra was also on show. Again I protested and again he said if it were my bikini, it would be OK, so what's the difference? “Besides,” he said, “you have a lovely figure, you're a super model and it's only you and me seeing these.”

I was stumped and could only mutter that underwear was different, somehow. But secretly I had enjoyed myself acting as his model, even when I knew he was seeing my undies and I was flattered by his compliments so when he suggested I change into something different and we shoot some more I readily agreed.


~~~oOo~~~

But what to wear? Well, I thought, if he's going to photograph my underwear, that plain white cotton was out. I looked through my wardrobe and selected a cream silk shirt and a flowered cotton button-through skirt. I felt myself tingle at the thought of popping some of the six buttons. I had a positively sinful black lacy half-cup bra and matching panties. I knew my areolas and nipples could be made out through the thin material. I dressed in these and decided to put a little make-up on to colour my face.


I hesitated for a moment with my hand on the handle of the bedroom door, wondering just what I was doing then decided I was enjoying myself so I opened the door and ventured out into the garden. Andy was there waiting for me with a couple of bottles of wine in a wine bucket with ice in and he held out a fresh glass of wine which I gulped down in almost indecent haste and handed him my glass for a refill.

He had me pose in several innocent positions using the wine glass as a prop then, “OK, Mum. Stand there and put your foot on the table as if you were a dancer practicing at the barre. Good – point your toes.” He clicked away from several angles. “Lean forward ...” Click. “Further – hold your ankle ...” Click, click. “Can you hold it there?” I assured him I could. He moved to my side and started opening the buttons of my skirt. One, two, three, four – open all the way to just short of my crotch. Did his hand accidentally brush me there as he re-arranged the folds? If so it was just briefly.

He took several pictures from various angles including a couple which were clearly focussed on my pants. By now my standing leg was aching: when I mentioned it, he told me to relax for a while. He poured out more wine and we sat for a few minutes sipping at it.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked Andy.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned. “You're a super model, with really nice legs and a good figure. Are you enjoying it? Do you mind me photographing your knickers?”

“Like you say, it's the same as a bikini.”

He grinned, poured some more wine and asked if I was ready to start again.

“Sure, how do you want me now?”

“On the table again, flat on your back.” I did as he asked then, “Feet on the table, bend your knees, that's it ...” Click. “Higher; feet apart, knees together, lovely ...” Andy pulled my skirt right back so my legs were all exposed. Click, click. “Knees apart – lovely knickers, Mum ...” Click.

Next he moved around the table and was standing near my head. Click. “Top button, Mum ...” I opened the button and he pulled my shirt open to show the swell of my breasts and a little bra. Click. He took over and popped another two buttons, pulling the shirt completely to one side leaving my right breast covered only by the bra – and yes, his hand did brush over my breast. Click. I felt my nipples crinkling up and tingling: I was getting turned on by my son seeing my undies and getting a crafty 'feel'. Click. “Sit up straight and shuffle to the edge of the table. No, let your skirt ride up ...” Click, click. He opened all the buttons of my shirt and pulled it wide open. Click. “Lean forward, give me a good cleavage. Lovely ...” Click.
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09-26-2012, 04:36 PM
Post: #35
RE: Horny Incest Story
“Take the shirt off, Mum.” I found myself complying and his camera clicked as I was doing so. He took the shirt and put it to one side then came over to me, took hold of my hands and put them on my breasts. “Push them up and together, like this. Magic ...” Click. He took hold of my hand and put it inside my bra before clicking again.

What he did next surprised me: he pulled one strap off my shoulder and the cup of my bra down, revealing my nipple which engorged even more as his thumb flicked over it. In truth, I was enjoying his attention and enjoying exposing myself to him and his camera but I thought I should make some protest at this stage.

“That's more than bikini, Andy,” I told him.

He grinned. “Do you want to stop?”

Decisions, decisions: my head said yes but my body was singing no. I hadn't felt like this in years. “Pour me some more wine, please. How many shots left on the card?” I asked.

He pressed a button and peered at the LCD screen. “Six, maybe seven.” He opened the second bottle of wine and handed me a glass. I couldn't believe I was sitting on the garden table, drinking wine calmly while my son was ogling my bare breast. I noticed his shorts were bulging out at the front.

“OK, we'll finish the card off, then go and look at them,” I announced.

“Jump down from the table, for these last few shots, Mum.” I complied and my bra slipped back over my breast. This time Andy put his hand right inside and scooped the breast back out before stepping back and taking a picture. He moved behind me and slipped the fastening of my bra, taking it off completely. He put his hands round and cupped my breasts. “Hold them like this,” he said, pinching my nipples between thumb and forefinger. I could feel the lump in his shorts pressing into my bum. I held my breasts as he asked, and pinched my nipples. It felt so good, I was almost unaware of my son taking a picture from the side.

He stepped behind me again, put his arms round my waist and popped the last two buttons on my skirt before removing it, leaving me naked but for a pair of semi see-through pants. “Having fun?” Andy breathed in my ear.

“Mmmmm ...” I was revelling in my exposure and wantonness. He pulled my hands from my breasts although I was reluctant to stop squeezing them and pinching the nipples. Putting his arms right round me he held my right breast in his left hand, massaging and squeezing it. Again he whispered, “I want your left hand here like this ...” I happily obeyed and he rearranged my left breast to rest upon my arm then I felt his right hand slide down the front of my pants and his finger slipping through the slickness of my pussy right inside, “ ... and your right hand here.” He moved his finger inside me for a few seconds then withdrew. I put my finger inside and masturbated myself while he took a picture.

His next move was to pull down the right side of my pants, so that my finger could clearly be seen penetrating my pussy and clicked his camera. He started pulling my pants right off and I told him, “If I'm going to be naked, So are you. Take those shorts off.” I wanted to see that bulge 'in the flesh.'

He finished taking my pants off then stood in front of me and said, “You do it!”

My hands trembled as I knelt in front of him, loosened the top fastening then drew the zip down before pulling his shorts to his ankles. I couldn't resist kissing the hard flesh in front of me and licking off the precum glistening on the proud head before removing the shorts completely.

“Just a couple more pictures to fill the card,” he said, stepping back and picking up his camera. He took one of me full frontal nude. The next and last, as I thought, pose was of me sitting on the edge of the table, legs spread wide and holding my pussy wide open. He clicked then examined the camera.

“Good,” he told me, “still room for another one pic. Stand with your back to me, legs apart ... wider. Good! Bend right down and hold your ankles.” He stood behind me and rubbed his hand over my pussy which was streaming. He stepped back and I heard the camera click for a final time.

“Stay just like that, Mum,” he told me as he stepped behind me and thrust his hard prick all the way inside me. Grabbing hold of my hips he rammed in and out, bringing me to the fastest orgasm I've ever had, which was as well because he groaned, “Oh, Mum!” and I could feel his manhood pumping his seed deep inside me.

He slowly withdrew, turned me to face him and gave me a deep, tongue probing kiss which I returned with all my lust. “Shall we look at the pictures?” he asked, grabbing the camera. With arms arms round each other's waists, we went up to his room, leaving our clothes scattered on the lawn.

Andy put his camera in its cradle as I drew up a spare chair and sat next to him, idly playing with his tool while he set up the slide show. He clicked through them all. They started so innocently but quickly got very sexy as my inhibitions melted away and he got more daring in the poses he put me in. We passed comments on them as they appeared, noting how the different parts of first my underwear then me were exposed. The last few looked positively indecent. They were hardcore porn!

His manhood was rock hard again by the time we finished looking at the pictures. He pulled me to him and gave me another heart-stopping kiss while making free with my breasts. "Your bed or mine?" he asked.

"Our bed," I replied, leading him towards my bedroom. "From now we sleep together!"
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09-26-2012, 04:36 PM
Post: #36
RE: Horny Incest Story
Some of you reading this will know what it's like to be left high and dry when a partner suddenly leaves you. I know the feelings only too well after my husband of twenty two years took off with a blond, eighteen year old bimbo. First you feel anger. Absolute rage at everyone and everything. I know it's a cliché, but why should this be happening after you've given the man the best years of your life. I felt anger that my twenty year old son, Jason, who understandably didn't want to share his father's new home, had to move with me into a cheap, two bedroom apartment because that's all I could afford. From living in a nice house with all the luxuries I could wish for, we now lived in a horrible part of town, in a place where the walls are paper thin and there isn't even a washing machine.

After about six months, after you've gotten used to your new standard of living, the anger goes away. In its place comes despair, depression and a feeling of inadequacy.

You feel insignificant and worthless. In my case, the pretty, sexy clothes that I used to wear, remained in my wardrobe. No man would be interested in a forty two year old when there are so many young girls to be had. So around the house, and even when I went out shopping, sweat pants and baggy tops were my new uniform. Make up was no longer necessary, as I had no friends to impress or men to attract.

But I still had sexual needs to fulfil. Nothing takes that away. So most nights, before sleep, I would lay on top of the bed in my pokey little bedroom, and pleasure myself with a dildo and vibrator. I had to be quiet though. Like I said, the walls are thin, and my son always seemed to be in his room next door these days. I felt just as sorry for him as I did for myself. He, too, had become withdrawn and quiet.

Things began to change for the better six months after the separation from my husband. It came out of the blue one afternoon, as I was tidying my son's bedroom whilst he was at college. On the long wall that divides his room from mine, he had hung a framed picture of his current favourite 'babe', Kylie Minogue. It wasn't hanging properly so I went over to straighten it. As I manoeuvred it around, something behind looked peculiar. I took the picture off its hook to examine further, and what I saw nearly caused me to fall over. It was a hole in the wall. When I had regained my composure, I took a peek through. It was only a small opening, but it gave an almost unlimited view of my own room with a grandstand vision of my bed. I dashed into my bedroom to see where it appeared and try to understand why I hadn't noticed it before now. But even in broad daylight, it took me a few minutes to find it. It was hard to see because it was camouflaged by the pattern of the wallpaper.

I sat down on the bed in a state of shock. The realisation hit me that I was being spied upon by my own son. I suddenly thought about my nightly rendezvous with my sex toys. No wonder Jason was always in his room; he was watching his mother masturbate. My initial reaction was of anger. Anger at the pervert son I had brought up. However, that feeling disappeared very quickly. For the last six months I had felt unattractive and ugly. But now a man was interested in me. OK, so the man was my own son. But he must be seeing something he likes or he wouldn't be looking. Very soon I began to feel very excited at the thought of my voyeuristic offspring. I had initially thought about confronting him with my discovery, but now all I wanted was to let him keep his secret. His act of perversion had given me back some self -confidence and I wasn't about to throw it away. So I quickly went back into his room and returned the picture back to the wall the way I had found it.

That night, as usual, Jason went to bed before me. As I entered my room, I was filled with a strange, sinful excitement. I had decided to give my son a bit of a show. I had spent the day soaking in the tub. Before Jason had arrived home from college, I had put on some light make up, nothing too trashy, but enough for him to notice the difference in his Mom. Out went the frumpy clothes. That evening I had worn a shortish, black dress, sheer nylon stockings and black high heels.

I felt Jason's eyes on me all evening. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't help myself. I kept inadvertently crossing my legs as I sat on the couch, knowing I was giving my son a good flash of thigh. At around ten o'clock, feeling more horny than I had felt in months, I said I was going to bed. Jason, unusually, had stayed in the living room with me. He followed me along the corridor and we went into our separate rooms together. I normally masturbated in the dark, so Jason had only ever seen me by any moonlight that may have shone into the bedroom. From now on that would be different. So, with the bedside lamp on, I began to remove my dress. With my back to the wall that I knew my son was peering through, I let the dress fall to the floor. As I stepped to one side, I wore only a black bra, matching lace garter belt and French knickers, stockings and heels.
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09-26-2012, 04:36 PM
Post: #37
RE: Horny Incest Story
Slowly, I turned around to face my invisible son. Teasingly, my hands came up to my breasts and nimbly undid the front fastening of my bra. As the hook came apart, I slowly exposed my heavy, naked orbs. I am only five two, even in four inch heels, but I am slim around the waist and top heavy, if you know what I mean. I cupped my tits and began to fondle them. I brought one up to my face and began to lick around the hardening nipple and its dark surrounding circle. Then, I sat down on the bed and swung my legs up so that I lay flat on top. I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and took out my sex toys.

Keeping the leg straight that was nearest to the wall that my son was peering through, I bent my other at the knee, so that my shoe was flat on the bed. My knickers were loose fitting, so I gently pulled the gusset to one side and began to explore my pussy with my fingers. Wow, I was already so wet down there. I rubbed my clitoris furiously with the knuckle of my right thumb. In the past, I had stopped myself from making any noise so as not to attract my son's attention. But now that I knew he was ogling me through the hole in the wall, I wanted him to both see and hear his mom in the throes of ecstasy. I groaned as the tingly sensation coursed around my loins.

After a couple of minutes of frigging myself, I reached over and dipped the helmet of the eight inch rubber phallus into a jar of lubrication that I keep on the bedside table.

With my legs spread, I brought it up to my pussy. Holding on to it where the balls would be on a real dick, I toyed with it around my clit. Then, when I couldn't stand it any longer, I forced it into my gaping hole. I gasped as it spread my womanhood apart and penetrated up to my womb, its oversize proportions being bigger than any man who had ever fucked me. I pulled it back until it almost came out of me, then rammed it back in all the way to where my hands held onto it. I got a slow rhythm going and was soon moaning loudly in pleasure. I turned my face towards the hole in the wall that Jason was peeping through, and gave it a dreamy stare. In the space of twelve hours I had turned myself into a sexual exhibitionist. I was working myself into a lather just thinking about how naughty it was performing in this way for my own son.

I had unwittingly increased the speed of the dildo and realised I was close to orgasm. So, fucking myself with that in my right hand, I took hold of the vibrator in my left. As I switched it on, the familiar buzzing reassured me that I would be climbing the walls very shortly. I placed its throbbing tip onto my clitoris and immediately went into convulsive, loud thrashing motions. As my senses reached their crescendo, I let all inhibitions go, and cried out in shouts of pure delight. I fucked myself until I was sure I had completely come, and then slowly started to drop the tempo. The dildo plopped out of my pussy as I lay on the bed breathing heavily. I couldn't be sure, but I thought that I had heard similar noises coming from my son's room. Just in case he had more to give himself, before I got into bed, I gave Jason a nice view of me seductively peeling off my stockings.
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09-26-2012, 04:36 PM
Post: #38
RE: Horny Incest Story
Over the course of the next few weeks, I treated my son to this performance almost every night. It was the thrill of doing something that I shouldn't, something that is taboo in almost every society, that really turned me on. Being spied upon is only exciting if you know you're being spied upon. That my own flesh and blood was fantasising over his mother was tremendously stimulating to my erotic thoughts.

Other things changed after that first night's show. Firstly, I began to get back some of my old self-confidence. Secondly, my relationship with Jason became a bit more touchy feely. I had abandoned my bag lady image completely and returned to wearing clothes that showed off my body. Even at home, I always wore make up and high heels. I think my son had become aware that I knew he was peeping at me, and I think that he knew that I enjoyed teasing him. As a result, we became physically closer; touching each other on the arm or shoulder more frequently than ever before. At that stage I was still aroused by the naughtiness of it all, and especially of the feigned secrecy on both sides. But I hadn't really given much thought to how it would develop, or whether I would be prepared to go all the way with him.

The monthly cheques from my ex kept Jason and I in food and shelter. So, after finishing the daily housework, there was nothing much for me to do except watch TV or daydream. It was during a bout of this that I began to worry that my son might be getting tired of seeing his mom just masturbating every night. I had become hooked on his secret attentions and couldn't bear to think of him ever not wanting to spy on me anymore. I had to do something new to keep his interest up. The answer was so obvious, that it took me a whole week to find it; I needed a man. My husband had always been trying to get me to have sex with him and any other man (he wasn't fussy who), saying that it is the biggest turn on in the world to see another guy fuck your wife. I therefore assumed that a son would also like to see his mom being screwed by another. But what would really turn him on, I thought, would be for him to see me having dirty sex. By that I mean filthy, degrading sex. I imagined my son spying through the hole as I was fucked by a vagrant, or by a really old man, or maybe gang raped by two black guys.
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09-26-2012, 04:36 PM
Post: #39
RE: Horny Incest Story
For the following few days I tried to think about how I could put these ideas into action. In fact, the thought of lowering myself to some of the thoughts I was having was really beginning to get my own juices flowing. Like everything else that had happened to me recently, the solution came suddenly out of the blue one sunny, yet cold afternoon in the self-service laundry.

I have to go there once a week because, like I said, we don't have a washing machine in the apartment. Almost every week, I see this old tramp in there keeping warm. He's quiet and no trouble to anyone, but right from the first time I saw him, I could see that he liked to leer at the women in there. He had never looked at me whilst I was going through my drab phase, but now that I had smartened myself up, I had felt his eyes upon me all the time. I had made up a plan in my mind. As I carried the washing the three blocks to the laundry, I was praying he would be there today.

It was quite a big self-service laundry, and surprisingly, today it was deserted. My heart sank as I went to the washers and began to read one of the month old magazines that the proprietor supplies. I turned around hopefully, as the door opened suddenly, but it was only another housewife with the weekly wash. She sat down next to me just as my cycle finished. I pulled the clothes out of the machine and into a basket, and carried them over to the dryers. As I turned into the aisle that had the machines on the right wall and a bench of seats opposite, my deflated spirits rose. There, quietly dozing at the very end was the vagrant I had hoped to see.

He woke up when he saw me and gave me a long, unashamed leer. I wasn't surprised; I had dressed especially for that reaction. It was a bitterly cold day, which explained why the tramp was sitting in the warmest part of the room, and I had worn a long overcoat. But as I slowly and deliberately walked past all the empty dryers that were furthest away from him, in order to place my clothes in the one nearest to him, I let my topcoat swing open to reveal my clothes underneath. I was wearing a tight, white, see through blouse over a white, lace, half cup bra, a very short, black mini-skirt, barely black hold-ups and black patent, high-heeled ankle strap sandals.

After placing the money in the slot, I turned and took a seat on the bench not a foot away from the old dosser. As my coat fell open, I crossed my nylon covered legs towards him. He said not a word, but I could feel his eyes burning my thighs as he brazenly stared at them. After a minute, I turned to give him a smile, but his glare never left my limbs. It gave me the chance to look at him closely. I guessed he was about sixty years' old, scrawny and dirty. His long nails were black and his clothes were tattered and stained. A year ago, if you told me I would soon be trying to seduce a piece of shit like this, I would have laughed in your face. But now, with the thought of my son watching me being abused by this down and out, I was in a state of high arousal.
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09-26-2012, 04:37 PM
Post: #40
RE: Horny Incest Story
As I let my skirt ride up a little, I knew that the tramp could see the bare flesh of my thighs above the hold-ups. His pants were big and baggy, but he made no effort to hide the movements of his right hand as he fondled his private parts through his pocket. Behaving like a wanton slut was so nice and naughty.

I knew what I had to do, so after about ten minutes, I got up to place my dried clothes in the black sack I had brought them in. As I emptied the dryer, I let a pair of my skimpiest panties fall to the floor and pretended not to notice. I turned to leave and hoped that my deliberate carelessness and feigned struggle with the washing bag would achieve the result I had planned. With heart in mouth, I started to walk slowly away. I had taken only three paces when I heard the tramp's voice calling to me.

'Hey, lady. You dropped these.'

I turned slowly. The vagrant was now standing, and holding the panties up to his waist as though modelling them.

'They're very nice.' he said, with a leering, almost toothless, grin.

'Thank you so much', I began, in a whimpering, girlie type voice. 'I'm so clumsy. I'm always dropping my panties.'

The double entendre was not lost upon my dirty, old admirer.

'I'll bet you are, lady', he said.

It was now or never for me, so I took courage and made him my offer.

'Look, I've got to carry this bag of washing about three blocks. It's terribly heavy. My son carried it here for me but he's gone back to the apartment that just the two of us live in. If you'd be so kind as to carry it home for me, I'm sure I could think of some way of thanking you.' I pleaded.

I couldn't have made my invitation any more explicit without actually asking him to fuck me.

'You sure this boy of yours won't be upset at you being helped by me?', he asked.

'No, not at all. In fact, he'll be pleased. And he would insist that I thank you properly.' I reassured him.

The old vagrant rubbed his unshaven chin as if in deep contemplation. I helped him reach the conclusion I wanted, by letting my overcoat open up and reveal my partly exposed breasts and nylon covered legs. I had placed the bag of clothes at my feet, and now the wizened tramp was slowly bending down to pick it up. As he did so, he took the opportunity to examine my body. When he stood upright, a good foot taller than me, he said:


'OK lady, after you.'
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