Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 18

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Dr. Bernice Wilson

Sleep refused to come. It was being a real stubborn asshole about it. I was so frustrated. I wanted to sleep. I had a long day, but seeing James shirtless, staring at that youthful, muscular body and his swelling hardon made me so wet. He was so strong, so handsome, so in need of a woman showing him how to be a man. He didn't have his father around to do that. My asshole ex had run off with his secretary and had a new family he doted on. He hardly saw James or Jenny.

So James needed his mother to educate him.

Those thoughts were such poison. I knew they were wrong, but I couldn't get them out of my head. I just wanted to sleep, to forget them. But I couldn't. And masturbating twice with my dildo, cumming as I imagined fucking my son, didn't help. I was still awake.

I glanced at the clock.

3:23 AM.

I groaned. This was so annoying. I just wanted these lusts out of my body. I just needed satisfaction. I needed my son's cock in me so badly. I was desperate. Tears beaded my eyes. I grabbed my pillow, covered my face with it, and screamed into it. The lusts were so strong, so commanding. They demanded my surrender.

And I was so tired of fighting them.

“This is so wrong,” I muttered as I rolled out of bed in my thin nightgown, my nipples hard against the satin material. I pulled it off, baring my naked body. I had stopped sleeping in panties, my pussy soaking them. “You're going to go to jail. Incest is wrong. And he's only nineteen.”

I headed to my bedroom door, juices dribbling down my thighs. I had never been so wet in my life.

“He's going to freak out. I'm his mother. He'll be traumatized by this.”

I opened the door.

“I'll scar him for life. Just so I can satiate myself.”

I walked down the hallway.

“I'm such a terrible mother.”

I reached his doorway.

“Don't do this, Bernice. Just walk away. Go back to bed. Don't give in.”

I opened his door.

He lay sleeping on his bed, lying on his back. His blankets had slipped down. In the soft light bleeding through his half-closed blinds, I could see his muscular chest. It rose and fell swiftly as he slept. My eyes flicked down his body to his crotch hidden by his blanket. I licked my lips.

“Last chance,” I whispered to myself.

But I was too weak. I knew it was wrong, but I headed in anyways. I closed the door slowly behind me, twisting the handle before it reached the door jam, ensuring there was no sound. I trembled as I crossed his carpeted floor, not making a sound. I was such a bad mommy.

I reached his bed, staring down at his sleeping face. This was the son I carried in my womb for nine months. I brought him into the world. I held him, nursed him, raised him. And he had grown up into such a handsome man. A stud. Just what an older, horny woman needed in her life.

“I'm so going to jail and hell,” I muttered as I grabbed the blanket.

My entire body trembled, my stomach twisting, my pussy dripping, as I pulled back the blankets. Slowly, I revealed more and more of his body. His rippling abs with a line of hair running down them. A soft down that grew thicker at the waistband of his boxers. His denser patch of darker pubic hair just peeking out. His cock tented his boxers, half-hard. Then I stared at his thick, strong thighs.

My pussy clenched in desire. I rubbed my thighs together, pressing on my aching clit. I was such a bad mother. I mounted his bed, moving so slowly, studying him. He kept sleeping. He could sleep through anything.

Even a blowjob?

I licked my lips, my breasts dangling before me as I straddled his legs. My wet pussy rubbed on his knee as my fingers stroked his dark-blue boxers. I knew all of his underwear. I had been washing them all his life. And this pair had a flap in the front. I reached into it, trembling. This was it. After this, I would have molested my nineteen-year-old son, I would have committed incest.

I could stop this.

No, I couldn't. I was lying to myself. I could never stop this. I needed this. No matter how wrong it was, how much it might damage my son, I had to satiate my desires. I was such a bad mother.

His cock was warm in my hands. That soft yet firm feel. I pulled him out. He was sticky, a spicy musk filling my nose along with his salty skin. The scent was familiar. My eyebrows furrowed. It reminded me of Jenny.

The idea of James fucking his sister was laughable. He barely tolerated his sister. He hated how she was always tattling on him and following him around. He called her a brat. Whomever had knocked up Jenny, it wasn't my son.

I was the only deviant pervert in the family.

I trembled, holding his cock as I leaned over. My breasts pressed into his thighs right below his boxers. My nipples throbbed as my tongue licked up his shaft. Maybe the flavor was from the lotion he was using to jack-off. I had found a lotion bottle in his room before, hidden under the bed, along with a box of Kleenexes.

I had just ignored them. He was a young man.

My tongue climbed higher and higher, reaching the spongy tip of his cock. I swirled it, feeling it harden beneath my stimulation. I loved the way he throbbed, the blood flowing into his cock, getting him nice and hard for my pussy.

I shuddered as I sucked my son's cock. I made this dick in me. I raised it. And now I would enjoy all the fruits of my labor.

My tongue swirled around his dick. I hadn't given a blowjob in so long, but I remembered how to please a man. I sucked so hard, my cheeks hollowing as his dick grew harder and longer. He swelled in my stroking hand as I pleased him.

He groaned in his sleep. My heart raced so badly. Part of me wanted to dart away before he woke up.

But my pussy wouldn't let me.

I stared up at him, watching him as he groaned. His dreams must be so wild right now as I sucked harder. His cock was hard and turgid, at its full erection now. I bobbed on him, liking the spicy flavor of his lotion and the salt of his precum. I wiggled my hips, rubbing my naked breasts on his thighs. Juices trickled out of me.

I was so eager to fuck my son.

He groaned, eyes fluttering. “Jenny,” he muttered as he came awake. “Oh, that's nice.”

My heart raced faster and faster. Why did he say his sister—

“Mom!” he gasped.

My lusts and fear both surged at his outburst, my stomach clenched as my pussy burned. My son stared at me, banishing any concern from my thoughts save what I had to do. I had to calm him. I had to seduce him. I had to let him know that his mommy loved him so very much.

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