W'ere Lovers

Straight to the point: my son and I have been lovers for about 7 years. Except one of our mutual friends, no one else knows, for obvious reasons. It's obviously not a justification, but our relationship was anything from a normal mom-son relationship from the very beginning.

I got pregnant when I was 15, from sleeping with an older guy who disappeared from the map the moment I told him. Abortion was not an option, but I had several advantages: my parents and my older sister (who couldn't have kids of her own) decided to help me raise the baby while I kept studying and found a half-time job to support them. So I had my son (let's call him "M") and while I did spend time with him, he was mostly raised by my his grandparents and his aunt while I finished high school and went away to college.

I did pretty well, by my own admission, and was offered a good job abroad. I figured It'd be time to take M with me, but he was 7 by that time. He had his friends, he was doing great at school and, for all effects and purposes, he saw my sister as his mom, and she cherished raising him as his own. I was his "other mom", and I didn't resent that. It was a difficult choice but, for his sake, we decided it was best for him to stay and for me to go, while I sent over money to give him a good education.

Eventually, a few years later, the company decided to promote me and send me back to oversee operations back home, so I accepted. It was a good moment to do so: my parents had recently passed away, and my sister was struggling at her job and couldn't watch over M as much as she wanted to. He was already 17 by then.

So I moved back and he decided it was a good time to move back in with me as well, since I was going to live closer to where his intended college was. It was weird, at first. We knew we were supposed to act like mother and son, and even if I had interacted with him over the years during summer breaks and Christmas, it felt like two strangers moving in together as roomies, with a15-year age gap between them. He had also gotten used to calling me by my name, he only used "mom" with my sister.

Eventually, the ice started to break, but I felt he was still very awkward around me, sometimes avoiding my eyes or my presence altogether. It all clicked when I discovered myself being flirty with him. I felt an attraction, and as I found out later on, it was mutual. But I didn't want to act on it.

Not until he asked me a very uncomfortable question.

You see, i****tuous relationships are not exactly alien to me. During my teenage years, a cousin around my same age and I had fallen in love, and we secretly kept an open relationship. We knew it was a taboo, but we didn't care because we really cared for each other and the attraction was too much for us to resist (he's still very handsome, and modesty aside, I'm still a very desirable woman). It lasted for a few years (even shortly after my pregnancy), until it came crashing down when his mother discovered us fucking. It was a huge scandal and, for several years we were forbidden to see each other. I don't regret it because it was a genuinely caring and passionate relationship, but it kind of became the dirty family secret that everyone gossips about. Naturally, it eventually reached M's ears, so he asked me, without judgement, why I did it.

I explained to him the nature of that relationship, as well as my take on sex: "if two people are attracted and care about each other, and if it's mutually consensual, then sex is the ultimate way to enjoy your connection to another person and give great pleasure to each other". My son openly said he had been with other girls when I asked him if he had had sex yet.

"Would you do that again?", he asked. I stopped for a second and looked him in the eye: he was uneasy, shy.

"If it felt right, yes", was my only answer.

He hesitated for a while before blurting out: "would you do that with me, too?"

I was too shocked to answer immediately, but after a while, I said it was a totally different matter if it were with him. When I saw the disappointment in his face turn to a mix of anger and shame, I said: "I don't know".

That conversation ended uncomfortably, and a few days later he decided to move back with my sister. I didn't stop him, and our interactions in family gatherings became awkward. But I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility. About me going to bed with my own son. About me actually being attracted to him, even if I resisted the mere thought of it.

When I couldn't deny it anymore, I texted him that I wanted to fix things, and asked him to tell his aunt that'd I take him to an exhibit he wanted to see out of town and that he'd be staying with me. It was the weekend of his 18th birthday. I actually bought the tickets for good measure. I went to pick him up and, as soon as we drove around the corner, I asked him to put on a blindfold. We were going somewhere else, but I wanted to surprise him.

When we got there and I finally asked him to remove the blindfold, what he saw was me in very sexy lingerie I had bought for the occasion. I told him that the room was paid for for the entire weekend, so I wanted him to have his way with me, because I was also attracted to him and to the idea of mother and son being lovers, and I just couldn't resist it anymore. He didn't hesitate to throw himself at me and fuck me.

It was our first time together and it was... ok. He was a young, inexperienced lover, but I wanted to take that weekend to change that. Each of those days we fucked until his dick was sore, and he became much better at pleasuring me. I didn't make it easy on him: I'm very demanding and very open minded. I wanted him to experience every way he could pleasure me, and had him cum in my pussy, in my ass, down my throat and on my breasts. Between sessions, we spent the whole weekend naked, on bed around each other, talking about the nature of our relationship and it dangers.

We haven't stopped since then, even if we've kept our relationship open out of necessity, to keep appearances. That has been for the best, because he's become and extraordinary lover. He moved back in with me when it came time for college and, whenever he came back, we spent the day inside. It was pure lust at first but, the longer we've been together, the more we've started to function as a romantic couple. We love each other in a romantic and sexual way.

Now that he's graduated, we keep a small apartment just so he appears to live there, but he spends most of his time with me, when we're not dating other people sporadically. We frequently go on "honeymoons", getaways where we know we won't encounter any familiar faces and we can act like an actual couple. People still stare at us judgmentally because of our age difference, but we only taught it off. If they only knew...

Increasingly, it's sex with him what I enjoy the most, other lovers have become duller, to me. It's definitely the taboo about it. We call each other by our names in public, but I like him to call me "mom" when we fuck. He usually cums shortly after I whisper to his ear that "mommy wants your cum". When I feel him explode, that's about the time I cum, too.