Mom Taught Me Sex Story

#Incest #Lesbian #Pregnancy

By NotReallyAshamed

My mom left me a bit messed up, I think. She didn’t exactly encourage me just to masturbate out in the open, but she used to masturbate pretty often herself and she kind of taught me to do the same. Not in the open but like under a blanket, next to her. She was a single parent, so I guess sexually frustrated and I was her only daughter so there was no one really to stop her. She kept breastfeeding me for way longer than normal, I can still clearly remember the taste of milk from her breast, which I don’t think is typical. And she used to masturbate while I was feeding; I can still remember that too. I’d be sucking on her breast and she’d have her hand down there and be kind of squeezing her legs over her hand. Now that I’m a mom myself I know how it is and I also often touched myself and had orgasms when my kids were feeding. It helps the milk come, I think. But I didn’t keep breastfeeding them after they were old enough to be weaned and so (I hope) they wouldn’t remember me doing that, the way I remember my mom masturbating while I was feeding! I could always tell when she was done (when she had her orgasm) because her breathing would change. I didn’t know what it meant though, I thought it was just a normal part of breastfeeding.
When I was a little older we always used to snuggle up under a blanket and watch TV in the evenings and she’d often be watching these cheesy softcore porn movies they used to have on late night cable TV, you know, the ones where they don’t show actual fucking but everything else. To be honest I mostly found them boring, and I didn’t watch much. I’d sort of half fall asleep with my head on my mom’s chest, and almost every time I’d wake up and she’d be masturbating. It was just like what she did when she breastfed me, just without the actual breastfeeding, and I didn’t think it was weird — I didn’t really think anything about it. It was just normal. I liked it when she finished because she’d hug me tight when she came and then we’d lie there for a while and finally she’d pick me up and put me in bed. I understand now she shouldn’t have been doing that with me there but it didn’t bother me at all, in fact it was nice snuggling every evening and since I didn’t really know what was going on it was fine. I think if that was all that ever happened I’d be fine today, though I don’t think it’s OK and parents definitely shouldn’t masturbate in front of their kids! But I understand that she must have been super-frustrated. I don’t remember her ever having anyone over.
The thing is, as I got older I always wanted to imitate my mom, and I knew she had her hand between her legs and it made her feel good so I used to put my hand down there too. I mean between my own legs, not hers! I didn’t know what to do, of course, and I didn’t have orgasms, but I knew touching myself down there felt nice and since mom was doing it I didn’t feel embarrassed to do the same thing. And she never told me not to. We were always both under the blanket so I thought she couldn’t see but of course she knew I was doing it, and I think it turned her on. She’d sort of stroke my hair and my back and masturbate while I kept touching myself and eventually she’d orgasm and then put me to bed.
So once while we were doing that she reached under my nightgown in front and started touching my tummy (I was a little chubby then) and I complained that it tickled but I really kind of liked it and I felt this funny kind of empty feeling down there that I hadn’t before. Mom stopped tickling but she kept her hand on my tummy and her wrist was touching mine so she could tell I was touching myself. I could tell she was going at it pretty hard with her other hand and I guess I wanted to imitate her so I started rubbing myself faster too, and then she started stroking the top of my hand. Pretty soon she finished and after that she took her hand away which made me feel a little disappointed to be honest. I still kept getting that empty feeling down there like I was missing something but I didn’t know how to make it come there. But the next day we were doing the same thing and mom said “here, babe, let me help you.” I didn’t know what she wanted to help with but she lifted me up a little and pulled off my panties. I was super-surprised and kind of froze but she took my hand and kind of put it back down there and then put her other hand back between her own legs. She didn’t touch me down there but she had her left hand on top of my hand and sort of guided my fingers if that makes sense. Of course it felt really good and also I was happy that my mom was showing me how to do it so I relaxed and leaned on her chest and she sort of hugged me close, putting her hand back up on my tummy again. I felt her slowly stroking my tummy and my chubby little breasts and this time the empty feeling felt like it was going somewhere sort of, like something big might happen, but nothing actually did. It felt very, very nice touching myself without panties though and my mom stroking my tummy and breasts. Eventually mom had her orgasm and like always she took her hand away and after we rested a little she put me to bed.
Anyway after that we usually did the same thing every night. We’d watch the movie for a while. I’d started to pay more attention, not really to the boring plot but at least when the actors were naked, because I was curious about naked bodies. And at some point mom would put her hand under my nightgown and start stroking me, usually my back first then my tummy and breasts and I’d lift up my butt a little and she’d help me off with my panties, then we’d both masturbate until she came, then we’d go to bed. Often in bed I’d keep touching myself and I’d fall asleep that way. I always had the feeling that a really good feeling was just around the corner and I think I understood somehow that that good feeling must be was what was happening to mom, because she’d always breathe really hard and tense up, but I didn’t know what to do to make it happen for me.
Then one night mom had been acting kind of silly and strange all evening. Now I think she was probably drunk. I was never really aware of her drinking, I mean I guess she did but she didn’t really get noticeably drunk in front of me. Most of the time. But she was definitely acting a little weird this time and about half way through the movie, which was earlier than we would usually start our routine, she said something like “whew, it’s hot” and she pushed me aside a little and lifted her nightgown clean off. I thought she meant it was too hot to snuggle and kind of edged away but she put her arm around me and eventually I was resting my head on her chest again. I remember she was breathing really deeply and my head was going up and down with her breaths. Then she said “Babe?” and I said “mmmm?” and she didn’t answer, but she kind of took the nipple of her right breast and put it near my mouth. It had been years since I’d breastfed, but I understood what she wanted me to do. I think I hesitated a bit because it was weird, especially after how strange she’d been acting all evening, but I didn’t really mind and I eventually started suckling. She kind of sighed in contentment and put her hand under my nightgown, on my back.
I guess I was expecting milk to come, but of course none did, but I kept suckling and soon she started masturbating. Out of habit I put my hand down there to do the same, but I was in a bit of an awkward position. She paused and then sighed again, and then she lifted my nightgown off. Kind of reflexively I put my hands over my chest but she said, “It’s OK, babe,” and lifted me up to help me take my panties off. Then she repositioned me so that I was lying on her tummy with her breast sagging right above me, and I took her nipple back into my mouth. She put her hand between my legs and gently parted my thighs. I was too surprised really to react and when she started masturbating me I just relaxed and let her do it. It felt very good to be honest and I quickly started getting the feeling that something big was going to happen. The big difference I think was that before when I’d had that feeling I’d always started to get kind of sensitive down there and had eased off a little but mom of course didn’t know it was getting sensitive and just kept on going. I couldn’t help it and started to squirm around a little, it felt both good and a little scary at the same time. She said “mmmmm, babe, does that feel good?” and I let go of her nipple to reply but the feelings were getting so intense that I couldn’t talk, only kind of squeak and then suddenly I felt these incredible waves washing over me. It was the best thing I’d ever felt in my entire life.
When it was over, mom lifted me up and gently kissed me on the forehead. I couldn’t really speak or just didn’t know what to say. She held my naked body tight against hers and it felt so nice being cuddled after such an intense experience. She didn’t make me suckle her any more but she reached down and started masturbating again and pretty soon she began to breathe hard and gasped and had her orgasm. Now I understood what she must have been feeling every time. After she’d finished, because the movie was still going (though I at least had completely lost track of what was happening) we didn’t go to bed right away. She kept cuddling me, absent-mindedly stroking my tummy and breasts, and I just enjoyed being held. When she carried me to my bedroom like she always did I was surprised she didn’t bring my nightgown but I was too sleepy to say anything, so I just slept naked that night. The next morning when I woke up naked I was a bit surprised, then I remembered what had happened. I got dressed and went out. I was a bit embarrassed but mom acted like nothing had happened. She was in her nightgown as usual and it was a bit translucent and I could see her breasts and I remembered suckling on them.
That was the last time for a long time that she touched me down there. I think she realized that was crossing a line. And I mean, she definitely was. I would never, ever touch my kids like that. Of course I don’t masturbate in front of them either! That evening we cuddled as usual and late in the movie when it was time to start touching ourselves mom didn’t even help me off with my panties, but I took them off myself. Then I thought for a bit and started to take off my nightgown too, but mom said “you shouldn’t take that off, babe.” I didn’t understand and was a bit taken aback, but I obeyed her. I hiked my nightgown up above my hips under the blanket and snuggled up against mom. I was hoping she would at least touch my tummy and breasts and back like she usually did but she just held me with her hand on my shoulder, not moving. We lay next to each other masturbating for a long time and when I felt the good feeling approaching I didn’t stop but kept rubbing the way mom had the night before and sure enough it kept coming and finally I felt the waves of pleasure and let out a little yelp. I remember mom was staring at me and for a moment I was worried I’d done something wrong, but she was still masturbating herself, and I put my head down on her chest. I thought maybe she’d like it if I suckled on her breast again but when I tried to lift her nightgown up from under the blanket, she wouldn’t let me. Finally I just lay there with my head on her breast over her nightgown and she stroked my hair. Pretty soon the familiar deep breathing and then she gasped and had her orgasm, and we cuddled for a while and then she put me to bed.
After that it was always basically the same thing every evening, except pretty soon she started touching me again, I mean above the waist not down there. I was relieved about that because I thought I’d done something wrong so she wasn’t touching me. She’d start by stroking my tummy and that’s how I knew she was ready. I’d take off my panties and hike up my nightgown and start rubbing myself and she’d do the same, while feeling (mostly) my tummy and breasts. It got to where we would mostly have our orgasms at about the same time. She always acted like touching me down there would be off limits although I really wouldn’t have minded. I was pretty addicted to the good feeling although funnily enough I never really masturbated on my own, only in the evenings cuddling with mom. Now that I was having orgasms every time with her I didn’t feel the need to touch myself when I was alone in bed.
When I started getting hair down there I began to get very curious about seeing mom naked so I could compare her mature body to my developing one, and I also felt a weird urge to show her my body as well. Of course we’d seen each other naked many times but, after we stopped bathing together when I was little, she would change in her own room or the bathroom and so would I, so if we did see each other undressed it was always kind of accidental. Except I guess that one time she had taken off my nightgown and masturbated me. That was no accident. But she was drunk that night so it didn’t count, right? One night when we started the usual routine and I’d already taken off my panties, I just kind of mischievously said what she had that time, “whew, it’s hot” and took off my nightgown too. She didn’t stop me this time, but she didn’t take hers off. Of course the blanket was still covering us up to our waists, so she wasn’t seeing anything other than my breasts which she was used to touching anyway. i really wanted to show her my whole naked body and ask about the hair I was getting, but I didn’t dare throw off the blanket. We masturbated the usual way that night and nothing else happened but when it came time to go to bed mom picked me up and took me, still bare naked to bed. I was too sleepy to really ask any questions but I did notice she was looking at me.
The next day during the day (it was a weekend) she sat me down and gave me The Talk about how I was developing and would get my period soon and all that. I kind of already knew all this from health class in school and it was weirdly embarrassing to hear mom talk about it. I mean, we had been masturbating together almost every evening for a long time, but we didn’t talk about sex or sexual things. I was about as far from turned on as I could be during the talk and I could tell it was pretty awkward for mom too. She didn’t talk about masturbation at all, just about growing hair and breasts, and menstruation, and how important it was to use condoms if I ever did anything with a boy, and stuff like that. It was almost like all that was completely unrelated to the stuff we were doing. I just nodded and didn’t ask any questions. The talk really should have answered any questions I had about the body changes I was experiencing, but by that evening I again had this strange urge to show my developing body to her. I guess I was eager for her approval or something. After my bath, using the excuse that it was hot (it really was), I didn’t put on my nightgown and panties. I was too chicken just to walk out naked but I wrapped a towel around myself and went out and sat on the stool at the kitchen counter and said I felt hot. Mom didn’t make any comments at all, just asked me if I wanted ice cream. I agreed and she gave me a bowl. I let the towel fall off my shoulders and ate the ice cream as mom switched on the TV, went over to the couch and got under the blanket.
When I finished my ice cream, I just left the towel on the stool and walked over naked to the couch. I could see that mom was watching me avidly the whole time. I sat next to her but didn’t get under the blanket. She still didn’t say anything, or try to put the blanket over me, but just put her arm around my shoulder. We watched the movie in silence. It felt really strange; I really wanted mom to look at me, to say something about my body, maybe even to touch me, but her eyes seemed to be glued to the screen. About half way through the movie, to my great shock, she said she was tired and was going to bed, and I could keep watching if I wanted. Of course I had no interest in the movie; I hadn’t even been following it. I was just shattered, sure I had done something wrong. It was the first time in ages that we hadn’t masturbated together. She went quickly to her room and I sat there, feeling like I was going to cry.
Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any more, I turned off the TV. I was going to go to my room, but something made me knock, timidly, on mom’s door. She asked “what is it, babe?” and I asked if I could come in. There was a short pause, then she said, “all right, babe.” I opened the door and went over to her bed. She was in with the covers all the way up to her neck. “Mom,” I said, “don’t you want to cuddle?” She didn’t reply. I said “did I do something wrong?” She looked stricken, then said “Oh, babe. Come here.” She scooted over a bit and tapped the bed, indicating that I should sit down. “Babe, you’re… you’re getting older. It’s…” She stopped. I didn’t say anything, and she sighed. “Oh, … here, get under the covers.” She lifted the blanket, and I could see that she was completely bare. I snuggled in next to her and, turning towards me, she put her arm around me. “Babe, … I’m sorry. Someday you’ll understand and I hope you’ll forgive me.” “Sorry for what?” I said, uncomprehendingly. She didn’t reply, and we lay there like that for a while. I could feel tears coming to my eyes.
Finally, almost without thinking, I scooted down a little and put my face up against her breasts. She sighed deeply and held my head as I took her left nipple into my mouth. I lay there suckling as she just breathed, in and out, stroking my hair, and murmuring “babe, … babe…” It went on for what seemed like forever, but eventually I could tell from the rhythmic movements and her breathing that she had her other hand between her legs and was touching herself. I put my hand down there too, but didn’t stop suckling. After about five minutes her breathing got ragged and she held me tight as she had an orgasm. She pulled my head away from her breast, rolled onto her back, and lay there, staring at the ceiling. I was frightened and didn’t know what to do. I’d never seen her do this. Usually after she had an orgasm she’d cuddle me for a while then put me to bed. Finally, I said, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She didn’t answer, which scared me even more. I’d had lost any urge to touch myself; I just wanted mom to stop acting weird and go back to cuddling me the way she used to.
After an eternity, mom said, “here, I’ll take you to bed.” I didn’t protest, but let her get out of bed and pick me up, even though I was getting a bit big for that. We must have looked pretty funny, mom, butt-naked, carrying me, also naked, to my bed. When we got there, she plonked me down and tucked me in, then made to leave. I said, “Mom? Can you stay a little?” She looked hesitant, then sighed and said, “All right, babe.” There wasn’t really room in my bed for both of us so she kind of sat on the edge, stroking my hair. I looked at her body, thinking “I’ll look like that some day soon.” I kind of pushed down the blanket so my tummy and breasts were exposed and took mom’s other hand and put it on my tummy. She began to stroke me, like she always did, first just on my tummy and then moving up to my breasts, and I put up my hand between my legs under the blanket and began to rub. Mom kept stroking my breasts, drawing little circles around my nipples with her finger, and soon I began to squirm around as I felt the good feeling approaching. As I got close she suddenly leaned down and kissed my breasts and I had the sudden crazy idea that she would try to suckle them as I had her, but she sat up again and said “Babe, … babe…” as I rubbed myself harder and harder trying to get there. Finally I could feel it coming and started to groan a little and mom reached down to kiss my breasts again. She took my right nipple into her mouth and played with it a little with her tongue and as she did that I had my orgasm.
After that, things mostly went back to “normal” again, except that unlike before, mom would never, ever just start masturbating in front of me. Instead she always waited for me to start things. We’d be snuggled on the couch and I’d start touching myself, then I’d grab her hand and put it on my tummy, and she’d know that I wanted her to help me and she’d start playing with my tummy and breasts with one hand, and masturbating with the other, and we’d try our best to reach orgasm at the same time. I was really curious about her body. She’d always wear a nightgown in the evening, but usually she would let me lift it up or take it off her completely. Even before we’d start masturbating, I liked to look at her body and I would often push the blanket down so her crotch was visible and just sit there watching. Once or twice I tried to touch her down there but she always said “no, babe,” and gently took my hand away. She’d let me play with her breasts, though, and of course if I bent down and took her nipple in my mouth she’d always let me suckle and usually would masturbate while I did.
Once I got my period and really started to grow up we kind of tapered off a bit. I was beginning to realize that what we were doing was definitely not normal and while I liked it, I also felt kind of weird about initiating it, and mom would never start anything unless I initiated. I was also getting crushes on classmates and I liked to masturbate by myself while I was thinking about the boys – and girls – that I had crushes on. Sometimes I’d even get so aroused, especially after seeing other girls in the showers after gym that I’d worry everyone could smell it and I’d have to go to a bathroom stall to masturbate. Or I’d go into my room right after school, get undressed, and bring myself off on the bed. Usually if I’d already masturbated that day that was enough for me and I wouldn’t start anything with mom, though we’d still often snuggle and watch TV in the evening.
It also happened sometimes that I really wanted to masturbate in the evening but not touch or be touched by mom for some reason or another – usually because I was fantasizing about a boy from school and wanted to imagine him making love to me. I’d discovered that I could have a very different kind of orgasm by carefully putting a finger or, as I eventually tried, a hairbrush handle in, and thinking about a boy penetrating me. Sometimes those got very intense and I’d even pee a little when I came. I usually waited until I was in bed to do that, but once we were watching a sexy movie with an actor who looked a lot like my crush at the time and I got so excited that I couldn’t resist and started fingering myself there on the couch. Mom could tell I was doing it even though I was under the blanket but she didn’t try to join in because I hadn’t touched her. It excited me though to be doing this in front of her because up to that point I’d kept that particular kind of masturbation to myself. As I got more and more into it I kicked the blanket off so she could see what I was doing. She stopped watching the TV and watched me instead, which just made me more excited, and when I finally came (with two fingers deep inside) it got very wet and I peed all over the couch, more than had ever come out before. Right afterwards I was terribly embarrassed, but mom was very nice about it. She didn’t even say anything but smiled, then went to get a towel to wipe the mess up. Fortunately the couch was leather so it wasn’t too bad. I just sat there feeling a bit miserable but after she finished cleaning up she kissed me on the forehead and said “sometimes that happens to me too.” That made me feel a lot better, but I didn’t try masturbating with my fingers inside next to her again.
A friend of mine (who I most definitely had a crush on) told me she used an electric toothbrush to get off, and I tried that. The orgasm felt very different but very intense, though it took a long time to get there if I didn’t do anything else, and I think got a little addicted to it. I started coming home from school and masturbating with it first thing. If I pushed hard against my clit with the vibrating back of the toothbrush while I put a finger in, I’d always come very hard and wet; I learned to put a towel under me before I started! Mom must have heard the buzzing and figured out I was using my toothbrush, because one day when I got home from school there was a nicely wrapped package on my bed. It was a battery-powered vibrator, and it was way better than the toothbrush. After I’d reached a gasping orgasm in record time, I went out to the kitchen, kissed mom and thanked her. She just smiled and said “glad you like it, babe.”
After that, though, our mutual sessions kept getting fewer and further between; usually I’d just use the vibrator in the afternoon, and not feel like doing anything in the evening. Maybe once a week or two I’d feel like having some company and wait until we were snuggled on the couch, then start in the usual way by putting mom’s hand on my tummy or breasts. I didn’t use the vibrator those times though because I liked drawing those sessions out for a long time, and because I didn’t want to pee all over the couch again. The orgasms I had by just touching myself while mom touched or kissed my breasts and tummy were very different from the ones I had when I used the vibrator and put my fingers in. They were less intense but also longer-lasting, and I loved it when we both managed to come at the same time.
I had a sleepover with my friend, the toothbrush one, and I brought my vibrator along. I figured because she talked so freely about sex and her own masturbatory habits that she’d be game, and I was excited to show her how I’d found something even better than the toothbrush, but it completely shocked her when I whipped it out and lifted up my nightgown. I’d had a fantasy that she’d be turned on, and would want to try the vibrator, and I’d let her, and then somehow we’d move on to making love with each other – I’d seen her naked in the shower and thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But, far from wanting to join in or at least watch, she acted disgusted, turned away and wouldn’t talk to me any more. I went to sleep feeling miserable and, though she stopped giving me the silent treatment in the morning, she was always kind of distant to me at school after that. I was devastated, but I also sensed that something about how open I’d been with mom had messed me up a bit. Worse, I felt I couldn’t really talk about it with mom when I got back home. I went to my room and cried. I think mom knew I was upset, but she left me alone. I didn’t masturbate at all for several days after that, worrying that was something seriously wrong with me.
By the weekend, I was feeling incredibly frustrated and horny and I got up on Saturday morning and, not even sure why I was doing it, walked out of my room completely naked. Mom wasn’t up yet, so I went to her bedroom and knocked. She said I could come in, so I opened the door and when I saw her in bed I suddenly felt the tears coming to my eyes and ran over. She moved over and let me in. She was naked under the covers and I suddenly really wanted to be very close to her, the way I hadn’t been able to be with my friend. I put my arms around her and she hugged me close, but when I put my hand down between her legs she said “no, babe” and took it away. I said, plaintively, “but why not?” She didn’t answer and I started crying, and she just held me, stroking my hair and patting me on the back. Eventually I fell asleep in her arms. When I woke up again she was already out of bed, and I realized it was already noon.
That evening, I guess, she got a little drunk again, although I never actually saw her drinking. I just know that by the time we had dinner she was acting kind of silly. All I know is that I had a sense that she had done it on purpose, almost as if she wanted to get drunk so she didn’t have to feel responsible for what she wanted to do. I think I was beginning to realize that I had a dangerous kind of power over her, because she was attracted sexually to me. I’d never understood that before, because I hadn’t really understood what it meant to be sexually attracted to someone. Everything we’d done had for me always been about just feeling nice; I’d never fantasized about being with mom, of course I liked looking at and touching her body but when I started having fantasies they were all about my classmates. But I could absolutely tell that mom lusted after me. I understood very well that the reason she hadn’t let me touch her down there that morning was because she desperately wanted me to touch her down there, and was afraid of that desire.
I took full advantage. After my shower I didn’t get dressed; I dried off and then walked around naked in front of mom, making sure she could see every bit of me. I could feel her eyes following me hungrily; whatever she’d drunk had lowered her inhibitions, made her a lot less subtle about watching me. I wasn’t bad looking, I knew that. I had grown out of my chubby younger self and, while my breasts were still small, they had filled out to almost their adult shape. I was already taller than mom was. It excited me to be looked at with desire, and that added to the desire I myself was feeling after not masturbating all week. Mom asked if I wanted to see a movie and I said no, let’s go to bed. She looked disappointed, so I knew I was on the right track. I asked her if we could cuddle in her room for a little before I went to bed and she immediately agreed – too quickly.
We went to her room and she lifted her nightgown over her head and stood there naked. I went over and hugged her and she pulled me tight, giggling. When I put my hand down between her legs, she didn’t stop me. She was shockingly wet. I felt around there and she gasped “Babe… oh, babe…” and I led her over to the bed and we tumbled in. I spread my legs, and she touched me down there for the first time since that night a few years before. In my orgasm-deprived state it felt wonderful and I followed her lead, touching her swollen clit when she touched mine, carefully inserting a finger when she finally penetrated me. After we’d fingered each other for a few minutes, she began to groan and buck around and suddenly orgasmed. I could feel her vagina contracting around the two fingers she had in me. When she’d calmed down a little, she said, “Babe, let me eat you.” I didn’t understand immediately but she pulled me onto her, then slid down until I was over her face. I was unsure but she pulled me down onto her mouth and hungrily tongued me. Eventually I realized I wasn’t going to hurt or smother her and relaxed, sitting down on her face as the incredible sensations washed over me. I ground my crotch into her face as her tongue explored my vagina. I was leaking wetness all over her. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and had the hardest orgasm of my life. I nearly fainted. I could feel the pee or whatever it was coming and let loose all over her face, flooding her mouth. She went, “mmm, mmmm” and I could hear her swallowing. I fell over, exhausted, onto the bed, and she took me into her arms and we fell asleep like that.
Very early in the morning – it was still dark – I woke up with a shock, remembering what had happened. Mom was sleeping on her back next to me. The bedside light was still on. I leaned over her; I could smell myself dried all over her, along with her own musky scent. I thought back to her saying, “Babe, let me eat you.” It excited me to think that she had wanted me so much, that she had let me sit on her face and had tongued me until I peed all over her. I was a little disappointed that she had come so quickly when I fingered her. I wanted somehow to render her helpless, to make her come as hard as I had, so that she lost control of her bladder and nearly fainted. I thought about it a little and then scooted down so that my face was over her crotch. I examined it closely, for the first time. She had a lot of hair down there but otherwise her vulva looked a lot like mine did in the mirror. She smelled hot, pungent. I tentatively tasted her. She didn’t react, so I gently parted her plump thighs and positioned myself between her legs. I began to lick her, enjoying the salty taste of her wetness. After a while, I could tell she had awoken; she was moving around a little and making quiet sounds of contentment. I’m sure I wasn’t very good at it but I kept licking and sucking and eventually mom put her hand on the back of my head and pressed me to her, which I took as a signal to be a little more aggressive. I did my best to penetrate her with my tongue and take big, long licks and I was rewarded with loud groans and a huge amount of wetness. Nevertheless my tongue was getting tired and I was wondering how much longer I could keep going when she finally began to shake and moan. The next thing I knew, she was peeing (or squirting, I guess, I still think of it as peeing), just as I had a few hours before. There seemed to be a huge amount of liquid, much more than I had produced, and it tasted just a little sour – mostly tasteless, honestly. I had to stifle a giggle; it seemed so crazy to see my mom writhing around under me then have her pee in my mouth.
We fell asleep again almost immediately. When we woke up late in the morning, I think we were both too embarrassed to acknowledge what had happened. We took showers, separately, and spent the Sunday more or less pretending that everything was normal.
It would be quite a long time before anything like that would happen again. In fact, we pretty much stopped masturbating together after that. I got a crush on another girl at school, who — after a little hesitation — was more receptive to my advances, and we started to go out together. I knew I was interested in boys, but I was also a bit afraid of them, and, thanks to mom, I knew how to please a girl. Mom would leave us alone when my friend slept over by us; she must have known what was happening, though, because we often weren’t quiet. (My friend’s bedroom was on its own floor in their big house, so I don’t know if her parents ever caught on.) That relationship actually ended up lasting, with a few hiccups, almost all the way until I left for college. The night we broke up – she was going to a different school – I got drunk, for the first time, and mom took care of me at home. In my drunken state, I tried to get her to sleep with me again but she refused. However, a few days later we both got kind of tipsy and ended up in bed again.
In college, after a fling with my freshman roommate, I ended up dating boys. It would be a few years before anything would happen between mom and me again, although we were sometimes kind of flirty with each other when I’d come home on break. When it did start happening again, on break in my senior year, it was kind of a return to the old days. We’d sit on the couch and masturbate together, but we didn’t do anything else. After college, I moved to a different city with my then-boyfriend. It became kind of a ritual whenever I went back home to visit – the first night, we’d cuddle in front of the TV and end up masturbating together. We still didn’t do anything more than that, though.
It was only years later, when I got married and pretty soon afterwards got pregnant with my first, that we got really intimate again. What happened was that mom moved in temporarily with us to help out. I was about 6 months pregnant when she arrived, had gained a lot of weight and was very hormonal. My husband was working during the day and not really making love to me at night. I guess he wasn’t all that into my pregnant body shape. It was frustrating physically, and I also felt very ugly. I didn’t like feeling hot and sweaty all day, either, and mom encouraged me just to go around undressed during the day. She kept complementing me on how glowingly beautiful I was and eventually between the hormones and how nice it felt to be complemented, the inevitable happened. I sat next to her on the couch and guided her hand between my legs and she expertly brought me to an orgasm while stroking my breasts and my big tummy like she had when I was little, murmuring about how beautiful I was. After that almost every day for a while we would do the same thing, even as I got really big. When I started leaking milk she asked me jokingly if she could taste it and we finally got to reverse roles, with her suckling on my breasts as I masturbated. It was nice, but we didn’t do that very much; mostly it was just her stimulating me with her hand until I came. Even more than the orgasms, though, having mom reassure me that I was still beautiful and sexy and touch me the way my husband made a huge difference to me, I think it is what kept me sane. I really needed that reassurance, because my husband was being a jerk and didn’t want to have anything to do with me sexually, even though pregnancy had made me even hornier than usual.
After my son arrived, for the first few months, while mom was there, she helped me learn how to breastfeed him and it was kind of natural that she’d keep touching me, telling me what a wonderful mother I was and how beautiful it was seeing me feeding him and stuff. Which of course I appreciated. She didn’t touch me down there while I was feeding, just stroked my hair and my shoulders and stuff like that but after the first few weeks I was getting horny again especially when my son was suckling. It wasn’t the kind of intensely sexual desire that I’d felt before he was born, it was more a kind of longing if that makes any sense. When my breasts were full, I’d feel very “full” down there too, basically. And one day when I was feeding him I couldn’t stand it any more I sort of smiled apologetically at mom and started touching myself, because of course I knew she’d understand. She just watched and stroked my belly and told me how beautiful I was and eventually I had an orgasm, but even that was really different before, it was sort of slower and deeper than usual. And I could feel that it making the milk come down.
I found that I would always get very aroused when I was breastfeeding, and I finally understood why my mom used to masturbate all the time when I suckled on her. As I said before, it was a very different kind of arousal from the usual, hot sexual desire; just a need for a calm, quiet orgasm that would come almost by itself in the middle of feeding, and would help the milk come. It felt almost like when I was little. Mostly I just would just sit there with my son on my breast and my hand between my legs. She would watch, smiling conspiratorially when she saw me getting close to an orgasm. A few times she sat on the couch and I sat between her legs and lay back and fed my son while she masturbated me, and it was OK, but not the same because she brought me to a very intense orgasm that way and afterwards I felt sensitive and had to stop feeding. I didn’t really want that most of the time. I liked just slowly, calmly touching myself while my son suckled and building up the feeling as slowly as I could, then drawing out the orgasm for a long time too. Once it felt like I was orgasming continuously for almost half an hour — not in one intense burst but just a long, drawn-out good feeling.
Mom understood that I knew best how to do what felt right, and so after a while she would just sit in the armchair opposite the couch and watch me as I fed my son and touched myself, telling me how beautiful I was and what a good job I was doing. She didn’t masturbate herself then, and I wasn’t really in the mood to touch her either. All my energy was concentrated on my son. I think she went and masturbated in private later. And after about 6 months she went home. I still masturbated when I breastfed my son, but I weaned him off my breast when he was about a year old and I never, ever masturbated in front of him after that. I never felt bad about masturbating while breastfeeding my kids, but they were way too young to know that I was doing it.
(I couldn’t always masturbate while breastfeeeding, of course. I was home most of the time during my kid’s first year and when I did go out with him, I usually fed him before I went out, and when I got back. But when I fed him while my husband was home, I never masturbated. Sure, I’d get that feeling of fullness down there, I guess you could call it being turned on, but it wasn’t such a strong urge that I had to do it. It’s more like, if I was completely relaxed at home, and I knew no one would disturb me, I would get naked and lie down and feed my son while I very calmly and slowly touched myself and built myself up to an orgasm. It was easier with mom there watching and telling me how beautiful I was but I could do it alone too. If my husband had been watching, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.)
When my daughter was born a few years later mom came to visit of course but didn’t stay very long. I did masturbate occasionally while I was feeding my daughter but it was a lot less common because first of all my son was usually toddling around and he would have noticed, and second of all I was feeling very depressed. I’d gained a lot of weight during my second pregnancy and my husband (now ex) made me feel very unattractive, and without mom sitting there and encouraging me I just didn’t feel aroused all that often. I mean, honestly, I was overweight, sure, but it’s not like I was an enormous whale. I just found it harder to lose weight than after my first pregnancy. But my a—hole of a husband basically refused to touch me or even look at me and it made me feel like sh-t. Eventually he had an affair and left me, when my daughter wasn’t even 1. Fortunately I got full custody of both kids. Well, life goes on.
I was really scared of ending up like my mom, though, sexually frustrated and with no outlet, so she turned to me. I was so busy with the kids and trying to survive on just savings and child support that I had no chance at all to date. And I thought about how mom had basically used me for her own sexual satisfaction, even when I was really little. I mean, she kept breast-feeding me until I was maybe 6 or 7 — I still remember it clearly. And I’m sure the main reason was because it turned her on. And of course everything that happened when I was older. She masturbated openly in front of me, she showed me how to masturbate, she even touched me those few times. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it, I don’t regret it at all, I’m not angry at her. It’s just part of who I am. But I didn’t have any choice in the matter, I just thought what mom did was by definition normal and right, and because it felt good for me too, I never objected. I think all things considered I ended up OK, but I’m not under any illusions that what my mom did was acceptable, especially when I was little. She basically used me as a way to compensate for her own lack of a sexual partner, and I’ve had some trouble with relationships in my adulthood. Specifically, and I think because mom used me as an object of desire, I find it hard to accept if my partner doesn’t basically worship my body; that’s pretty much what killed my marriage. My husband wasn’t happy with how much weight I gained and failed to lose after my daughter was born and it made me feel resentful and eventually everything fell apart. Mom still tells me I’m beautiful, and that’s probably why I still keep visiting her, walking around naked in front of her (when the kids are asleep of course), and enjoying her watching me.
I have been very careful not to repeat what she did with my kids, though. I really didn’t want to end up using my own kids that way. It wouldn’t be fair to them. That’s why I was careful to wean both of them right on schedule. And since then I have never felt any desire at all to masturbate in front of them or anything like that. So I know I’m not the same person as my mom, and I don’t worry about it any more. I just decided I wasn’t going to behave with my kids the way my mom had with me, and I didn’t. That’s the thing… it’s a choice. I can’t say my mom chose wrong because in the end I wouldn’t want to be anyone else but who I ended up being. But I also didn’t want to make that choice for my own kids, and I didn’t. They’re still young but they’re growing up fine and I hope they’ll both be very happy one day. I did discover them playing doctor together the other day but I didn’t make a big fuss about it. I just said ‘dinnertime, kids’ and closed the door and they were embarrassed enough that I caught them that the came out right away. And I never scolded them for masturbating, they both did that often enough, especially my daughter. I’d just ignore it and eventually they stopped doing it out in the open. I guess they figured out it’s an alone-time thing. I refuse to make them feel embarrassed about their own bodies or their curiosity.
But, like my mom, after my husband left I was — and to be honest still am sexually frustrated. I don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend or anything like that. Yes, I’m in a better place now, and I don’t need a partner to validate me. I have a career that I like. I’ve lost most of the weight I gained after my daughter was born, but I’m still somewhat chunky, and saggy in all the wrong places. No one would look twice at me. And that’s why I still love visiting mom. I go over there with the kids, they love “grandma,” it seems so funny to me to think of mom as a grandmother but of course she is. She’s 58 years old and going kind of grey, but she still looks good. I know that’s what I’m going to look like when I’m her age, and I’m OK with that. We have a routine now. When the kids go to bed, I say “whew, it’s hot,” and I take off my dress. I walk around naked and mom watches me with approval. She tells me how good I still look and says she can’t believe that a—hole left me but I’m better off without him. And eventually she starts touching me, stroking my breasts and my tummy (which is still kind of chubby after all these years) and it feels so good to be desired by someone, even if it’s just my mom. And I think back to when I was a little girl and she’d stroke my tummy and breasts and I get turned on. And eventually, well, usually we just masturbate together. The way we do it is, we sit up at opposite ends on the couch, the same old couch that we used to snuggle on when we watched TV. It’s a wreck, but she’s covered it with a blanket so it’s not so obvious. And we just put up our knees and we look at each other and masturbate, slowly, trying to come at the same time. Afterwards we just go to bed. Sometimes, when I’m feeling really needy, I’ll suck on her breasts and she’ll touch me like she used to, but usually we just masturbate together, looking at each other. It turns me on to know that my middle-aged, overweight, saggy-breasted body still turns her on. When we sit facing each other on the couch, the way we usually do it now, watching each other with our dresses hiked up so that we can pull them down quickly if a kid wakes up, I can almost overlook her greying hair and my own aging body and remember what it was like when I was little and we snuggled on the couch watching TV.

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By NotReallyAshamed
#Incest #Lesbian #Pregnancy