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My Family
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Bi-Sexual Female / 42
He Came Back Into My Life
When I was 15, I became pregnant from an older man that disappeared as soon as I told him I was expecting his baby. My parents were always supportive of my education for my future, so they convinced me to give the baby away for adoption. I agreed, and I still think it was the correct choice.
I managed to make a decent life for myself. I graduated from college, got a few decent paying jobs here and there, and even moved abroad and met the love of my life. We had a brief but happy marriage, despite having a miscarriage (and being supposedly infertile) and his very premature passing. I became a widow at 36.
About three years later, a young man came into my life. The son I had given away for adoption had asked his parents about the identity of his biological mother, and he tracked me down on social media. He had no resentment and only wanted to get to know me, find out where he came from. In time, chatting turned into Skyping, and after a few months he asked if he could come over to meet me. We got along well, so I saw no harm in it. I even bought his plane ticket and invited him to stay at my house. At his work he was allowed for long periods of vacations, so he stayed for a full two weeks.
Two weeks that changed our lives in unexpected ways. You see, we got along very well, but after a short while re realized it was not in the platonic, mother-son way. I was the first to catch on the attraction I felt. It wasn't that wild of a possibility: I had always been attracted to younger men (my husband was a full 7 years younger than me at the time of his passing), and I had read about genetic sexual attraction. We fit the profile.
A few days later I could tell he felt the same but was struggling with it. So one night during dinner at my place I took the lead and tackled the issue head on. I figured I wasn't going to lose a valuable, long-term relationship if he rejected me, so I threw myself at him and kissed him passionately. He flinched at first, but after a split second, he gave in and kissed me back. He fucked me right there on the dining room table. Turned out he also liked older women... and he sure knew how to pleasure one. Nobody had fucked me like that in ages.
There was a bout of initial guilt from both of us, but after a short while we both became more accepting of the situation. He still had doubts when he flew back home, but I told him I wanted to stay in touch. There was some radio silence from him for a couple of weeks, but then he wrote back: "I have good chances of getting a new job in your town. I'll fly back next week. I want to live with you".
That was the beginning of our very passionate "marriage". We don't share the same last name, so people don't even suspect us here, but we don't want to get married to attract any suspicion. From that day he moved in with me and we started to live as a couple. We know it's wrong, but we see each other more like man and woman than mother and son. We sometimes adress it in dirty talk during sex, though...
I managed to make a decent life for myself. I graduated from college, got a few decent paying jobs here and there, and even moved abroad and met the love of my life. We had a brief but happy marriage, despite having a miscarriage (and being supposedly infertile) and his very premature passing. I became a widow at 36.
About three years later, a young man came into my life. The son I had given away for adoption had asked his parents about the identity of his biological mother, and he tracked me down on social media. He had no resentment and only wanted to get to know me, find out where he came from. In time, chatting turned into Skyping, and after a few months he asked if he could come over to meet me. We got along well, so I saw no harm in it. I even bought his plane ticket and invited him to stay at my house. At his work he was allowed for long periods of vacations, so he stayed for a full two weeks.
Two weeks that changed our lives in unexpected ways. You see, we got along very well, but after a short while re realized it was not in the platonic, mother-son way. I was the first to catch on the attraction I felt. It wasn't that wild of a possibility: I had always been attracted to younger men (my husband was a full 7 years younger than me at the time of his passing), and I had read about genetic sexual attraction. We fit the profile.
A few days later I could tell he felt the same but was struggling with it. So one night during dinner at my place I took the lead and tackled the issue head on. I figured I wasn't going to lose a valuable, long-term relationship if he rejected me, so I threw myself at him and kissed him passionately. He flinched at first, but after a split second, he gave in and kissed me back. He fucked me right there on the dining room table. Turned out he also liked older women... and he sure knew how to pleasure one. Nobody had fucked me like that in ages.
There was a bout of initial guilt from both of us, but after a short while we both became more accepting of the situation. He still had doubts when he flew back home, but I told him I wanted to stay in touch. There was some radio silence from him for a couple of weeks, but then he wrote back: "I have good chances of getting a new job in your town. I'll fly back next week. I want to live with you".
That was the beginning of our very passionate "marriage". We don't share the same last name, so people don't even suspect us here, but we don't want to get married to attract any suspicion. From that day he moved in with me and we started to live as a couple. We know it's wrong, but we see each other more like man and woman than mother and son. We sometimes adress it in dirty talk during sex, though...
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