Incest
2008-08-09

Topic: Travel Companion UPDATE: I made several large additions which I hope everyone will enjoy. Anyone who liked the first version should definitely read it again. Tell me what you think.
NOTE: This is a total remake of Actual_Mom’s “Traveling Companion,” a very short story posted on a certain incest message board which I enjoyed very much. I hope everyone enjoys its spiritual successor.
Travel Companion
Author: Stephanie
My son and I were traveling across country to visit my folks in California. We had been alone since his father left us two years earlier. This was our first vacation together.
Bill is a strapping young man of 18, with a lean figure and a dark complexion due to his black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin, owing to his love of the outdoors. I'm so proud of my baby -- almost always on the honor roll, fit, and having a conversation with him was like talking to someone far beyond his years. He seemed more mature than many of my coworkers!
When he was younger, he would sometimes crawl into bed with me while his father was at work, since he worked the night shift. So I didn't think too much of it to just get one room when we stopped for our first night on the road.
They only had a room with a king sized bed, so I took it. We were both tired from the long road trip so we fell asleep quickly. Around 2 AM I had to get up to pee badly. While I was getting back into bed, as I lifted the covers to get in, I could see that my son had a healthy hard-on sticking out the front of his boxers.

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Shocked, I quickly lowered the covers and turned over. I was never meant to see that.
I had just seen my only son fully exposed and fully aroused! I had never before been presented with such striking evidence that my child was a sexual creature. One time when I was cleaning his room I found a stack of pornography under his bed. And, you know, sometimes I would see the tell tale signs of a nocturnal emission when doing the laundry. . . but that was all circumstantial and left no lasting impression. Here I was just presented with the source of it all.
Feeling daring, I lifted the covers and stole another glance, this time angling it so the light from the nearby window played off his throbbing shaft. A small dewdrop at the tip sparkled in the moonlight. Shamed at my boldness, I again pulled the covers to their normal position and tried to go back to sleep but it was simply impossible as my mind was going a million miles an hour. Impure thoughts were running through my head.
Although my divorce went down two years ago, the foundation of the marriage itself failed many years ago. I was attempting to remember the last time I had sex and I couldn't think of anything within five years, and it wasn't even that good.

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I don't know what happened to the man I married. It eventually turned loveless and the sex became horrible.
My thoughts turned to the wicked. Billy was definitely not a light sleeper -- he regularly sleeps through thunderstorms and he once never woke up with the rest of the neighborhood when there was a loud fender bender on our street. I turned the loneliness and the sight of my son over and over in my head until I became wet with desire. I wanted to do more than just see him.
Could I do it? Could I touch him?
I scolded myself. What the fuck is wrong with me? Touching my own son. . .
Well, it'll just be a little bit. . .
I turned on my side, facing Bill, keeping a close eye on his face. If he woke up the only thing I could do is pretend to be asleep myself.

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I snaked my arm under the covers until I felt his boxers. I found the hole at the front and pushed the material down, forcing as much of himself out as I could. My fingertips brushed against his organ and wrapped around the base. I put pressure and slid up, squeezing out the precum that was inside. . . I felt the warmness in my hands. I grabbed his skin again and started to lightly stroke him from top to bottom. His shape was distinctly curved, not unlike a banana. I was being more forceful with him as a heat began to grow between my own legs. This continued for maybe another minute before Billy's cheek started to twitch and his mouth opened. I pulled my hand away as if I were touching a hot stove. I was scared after this so I rolled over and attempted to sleep. I forced my mind to stop thinking of my own flesh and blood in such a damaging way. Eventually I was able to calm myself and fall asleep.

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I didn't say anything about it the next day, but it's all I thought about as I drove.

I was so horny I thought about taking care of myself at a rest stop but I couldn’t have enough time to myself without raising concern. I was so afraid that he would smell me. . . it seemed so obvious to me, but maybe he couldn’t tell from the back of the car. I was a nervous wreck the whole day.
That night, when we were getting a room, I asked him just to stay in the car while I checked in. This time I requested a room with a king size bed.
As he was taking the bags into the room, I went across the street to a drug store and got a tube of astro-glide, hoping that I may get a chance to use it on this trip eventually. I thought about how I could do this. . . I would definitely have to hide it, but make it accessible at the same time.
That night, after he fell asleep, I kept checking him to see if he had another hard on.

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After a couple hours, he had another one sticking out of his shorts again. I slid my panties down and threw them under the bed. I reached under the pillow for the astro-glide and squeezed a generous amount into my palm, which snaked between my legs and went up and over my pussy. I was so horny I couldn't stop my hand and it continued to go up and down my slit with abandon. I started to pant and sense the feelings overcoming me but before anything happened I realized that I should get down to business before Billy's body returned to its normal stage. I understood that when guys sleep it's normal for their erections to rise and fall, in a cycle, so if I waited too long. . . I squeezed out a final dollop of astro-glide, which I tenderly put right at the entrance to my womanhood.
I gingerly scooted myself closer and closer towards him, facing away. My heart was beating in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. When I felt the tip of his cock touch my ass, shivers ran up my spine and throughout my entire body. Slowly, I moved towards the headboard to get the angle just right. I backed up again, resulting in his cockhead stabbing my inner thigh. The third push caused his member to slide along my entire pussy and bump into my clit, causing sparks to shoot off behind my eyes.

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After a moment I reached down and positioned him at the right spot and slowly pushed back, feeling myself open up as his boyhood slid home, deeper and deeper, until his boxers were against my ass. As I sighed in satisfaction a thought crossed my mind.
I had just taken my son's virginity.
I just laid there enjoying the feeling of a cock inside me again. I didn't wish to make too much of a commotion, so I reached down and starting masturbating while he was buried between my thighs. I was already on edge as I started this and the gravity of the situation overcame me. I continually slid my fingers up and down my slit, over my sensitive clit, and then back down, feeling my own son’s balls as they rested against me. I could only think that my son had returned to the place of his birth. . . and my body responded, as I went over the edge into uncontrollable throes of ecstasy as I continually rubbed my clit with abandon. My toes curled, my mouth opened, my head went back, my eyes closed, and wave after wave of electricity and heat flew through my body, timed to each flick to my button. I couldn't help but cry out, but I tried to be as quiet as possible. I was rocking the bed with my hips even as I vainly attempted to sit still as the pleasure washed over my being.
The afterglow was delicious.

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. . my entire body was tingling. I felt intoxicated. I laid there and flexed my pussy muscles, squeezing his dick, as I caught my breath. I had needed that so bad. My face was burning from trying to be as still and quiet as possible. As I recovered, I felt him push his hips against me and moan. . . I froze. I'm not sure if he had woken up yet, or if it was just instinct, but he began slowly moving in and out of me. I had no idea what to do, so I just sat there, gently squeezing him with my loins.
His pace was slow yet rhythmical, and I was just enjoying it. His breathing quickened and I continued to squeeze him gently.

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If he was asleep, what sort of wonderful dreams do you suppose he was having? And if he was awake. . . what was he thinking right now? Would he have said something? Would he think I was asleep and this was a happy accident? Or would he be afraid, confused, and shamed? I was far too afraid to face him, to confront him, because if he was awake and I did then he would know it was me who did this, and that was a place I was not willing to go. If nothing else, though, he seemed to be enjoying it -- his hard on seemed to be growing and getting even stiffer. Surely if he was displeased or scared it would shrink, I thought to myself. Perhaps I'm not really a terrible person. Perhaps I haven't violated a sacred trust between mother and son. What if he actually was feeling just like I felt? That makes this all OK, right? Maybe this would be a wonderful coupling.

After all, why should I be ashamed of myself? This was the same pussy that let him into the world. Why wouldn’t he wish to return? What better place on the face of the earth could possibly be better for him than between my legs? Certainly, as a man, he would prefer me over any other woman. In fact, I was doing Billy a favor, once you looked at it all in a certain light. I was a good mother.
This grand delusion gave me a level of comfort, for awhile.
I sat there and took his gentle probing.

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And as if to answer my thoughts and questions, an unintelligible noise echoed in my ears as Billy started to moan and his pace increased slowly but surely. He was saying something quietly under his breath, but I found it difficult to hear anything specific. The more I tried, the more I only heard the sloppy sounds of our sex and the sounds of his balls slapping against me. I finally heard it after focusing harder, fuzzy at first, but slowly gaining clarity as he pumped into me.

"Oh. . . oh. . . oh mommy. . . this feels really good. .

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. oh mommy. . . ooooh. . . I'm cumming. . . "

My eyes widened as I realized his young, virgin body had reached its limit.
In my prurience, I had neglected to even think of birth control. I realized I had simply thought of him as a source of pleasure as one would a lifeless dildo; I hadn’t thought of his needs or his reaction as a man. I had little time to react and I was so overwhelmed with lust from the fact that I was making my own son cum I simply pushed back until my ass was solidly against his belly and pubes, meeting his inexperienced but deeply needful thrusts. He continued for another moment or two until he suddenly stopped and wrapped his arms around me.

The only piece of him which wasn’t in me were his flexing balls. Nature's call would not be denied as his form molded into mine. I felt his dick begin to expand and then quiver until he shot several long streams of thick, gooey semen deeply into my hungry pussy. My mouth was agape -- I couldn't believe this was happening. The feelings of unabashed love were intense. Billy was moaning, his hot breath on my neck. . . I could feel the warm pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse as he emptied the symbol of his pleasure and manhood into me. . . yes. . . my little boy had become a man this night.

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. . thanks to me. . .
After his climax ended he continued to hump against me for a short time but soon tired and became still, still buried to the hilt. A tremendous heat was emanating between my legs and my body had never felt so sensitive and aware to the simple touch of its surroundings. I felt every nuance of the pillow, wrinkle of the covers, his wiry pubes smashed against my ass, his thick cum swirling within me. A single tear was trailing down my cheek. I'm so, so sorry Billy. Your mother was supposed to look after you but. . . she has failed.
Billy was still deep inside me as he slowly went soft and slipped out.

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I felt his embrace fade as he rolled over and faced the other way. When I heard him start snoring softly, I knew he was sleeping for sure, although a part of me thought he wasn’t awake the entire time, or maybe only half awake at best and acting in a fog, and he may not ever remember this, or think it was all a bizarre dream which should quickly be forgotten because it was far too dark and perverted. As I felt his warm present ooze deeply inside of me, one thing was for sure -- it wasn’t a dream, and the evidence of my wickedness this night might make itself known to the whole world in a very real, physical way, deep within my belly.
The thought, twisted as it was, made my clit twitch under its hood. I could feel its sensitive roots reaching deep down. . .
I rubbed my pussy up and down, thinking of what I had done this night, thinking of how sick I was, thinking of what I had forced my own son to do without asking him if it was OK with him, forcing him to give me something he would never in his right mind consent to give me, thinking about him sliding in and out of me until his body gave me something a son should never give his mother. . . until I had another mind blowing orgasm, my clitoris turning into a bolt of lightning going through my hips, my chest heaving, lungs burning, my legs splaying inwards uncontrollably, all as I tried to not wake Billy and reveal how wanton I am to him.
I felt weak, sapped of energy at both the weight of the events and the severity of the pleasure -- I could only sink back into the sweat soaked mattress. . . of all the feelings, one was more real than any of the others.

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. . yes. . . mothers can feel it, when it happens. I was a mother to Billy. . . but now, I will be a mother to someone else as well. I felt it within my bones, within my belly. It happened. Perhaps if I had gone to the bathroom to wash away the stains, the filth, the thick goo which represented my sinfulness, maybe it could have been stopped. It was too late now. What would this mean for our lives? What would Billy say? How would he look at me without hating me? Would he dote on his pregnant mother? I couldn't expect him to stick around, could I? Oh my god, have I entrapped him? Did I mean to do this from the beginning? Was I fearful of the empty nest? I began to silently cry into my pillow, a mixture of deep guilt and everlasting happiness.