Last month I learned that the woman who gave birth to me was not the woman who raised me. The people who raised me who have been dead for over a year are my grandparents, and the woman I thought was my older sister was my mother.

Not only that, but my mother told me that at the time I was born, she had never had a boyfriend. The only person she had had sex with was her father. The man who raised me.

She said her mother never knew about that, that she told her it was a boy from school who had gotten her pregnant.

She told me that it didn't stop once she got pregnant and gave birth. She had a sexual relationship with him until the day he died.

It took me most of the past month to fully process this before talking to her again yesterday.

Yesterday she told me that family means more to her than anything. That she never regretted being with him, and she didn't regret giving birth to me because of it. And before we hung up, she asked me to honestly consider whether I wanted to have sex with her. She said it was up to me, and that the offer stands if I ever decide that I want to.

I spent 23 years looking up to her as my older sister, and while I may have had fantasies about her every so often, I've heard others say that that's normal for a little brother. Now I know she's my mother. She's 35, and she's beautiful.

Maybe I'm just thinking with my dick but if she was not related to me and she gave me this offer I would be at her house right now, and even though she is, it's getting harder and harder not to get in my car and go see her.