Before I begins with the follow up story, I gotta admit that I was completely blown away from the feedback from the first story! I’ll admit that I have spoken about some of the experiences with my mother on r/incest (shoutout to the guy in the comments from the previous story who actually recognized it) but I gotta say that you guys are a lot more mature based off of the comments I received! As for typos that a few of you mentioned, I’ll try my best to proofread as often as I could but I could only do so much. I know that I said that my mom proofreads my stories but that’s technically only half true. I read them aloud to her in Spanish as she doesn’t understand English all that well. Her sense of ‘proofreading’ only amounts to ensuring that the details of the story are correct and to remove any personal information that she doesn’t feel comfortable talking about (which doesn’t happen often). And lastly, I’m glad that you all enjoyed the humor as the few funny remarks I’m able to make here and there are what makes these stories especially fun to write. I was just scared that it could potentially ruin the immersion within the story telling but I’m glad it didn’t! 😀
The next morning….
The first sign that something was off was the fact that I completely slept through my alarm. Since I’m such a light sleeper, I always keep my alarms set up even on the days I have off to maintain a strict sleeping schedule. Instead of waking up at my usual time of 7 in the morning, I completely slept through my alarms and I was out cold until past 1 in the afternoon!
It felt as if I woke up from a deep coma, with my body completely naked and soaked in sweat. Like any good hangover, the first thing I felt was a throbbing headache, pulsating to the beat of the drum solo from Phil Collin’s “In the Air Tonight”. I tossed and turned to find my mother by my side, still out like a light and also naked like the day she was born. I quietly stood up from my bed, practically crawling out in order to avoid waking up the sleeping beauty that lay next to me. However, just as I stood on my two legs, I practically tumbled from the deep pain that I felt within my cervix. The events of last night had me practically walking like a sumo wrestler from just how sore I was! My mind couldn’t process what exactly was going on due to the half conscious state that I was in so I proceeded to grab a nearby bathrobe and walk into my kitchen to prepare myself a nice cup of coffee to wake myself up.
As I began to slowly sip at my extra caffeinated coffee, the events of the prior night slowly began to replay in my head. Everything from Thing One and Thing Two buying us round after round of drinks, to coming back to my place, to giving them blowjobs with my mom right by my side, to my mother and I making out as we were getting rammed by two strangers, and even the very last kiss she gave to me just before we fell asleep. The memories of the previous night flooded my mind as I instantly recalled every single bit of detail. My hands covered my mouth instantly to prevent any audible gasps from waking up my mom. I… I just couldn’t believe that that actually happened. I made love with my own mother, I kissed her, I moaned by her as she called me her “hija” throughout the night. I just didn’t know how to react.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, a second troubling thought entered my mind. Where was Thing One and Two at? Time stood still as I suddenly put down my cup of coffee. I quietly examined the living room before slowly opening my bedroom door, peeking inside quietly. I saw just my mother laying by herself, this time having moved sleeping positions which caused her large breasts to hang free from the covers. I scanned the room and found no one else. Not only were they gone but so was all of their personal belongings. It was as if Things One and Two literally vanished without a trace in the world, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared.
I quietly closed the door before walking back to my coffee. Attempting to rationalize the situation, I concluded that it was probably best for the two of them to have disappeared before us waking up, as it would’ve made this morning a hell of a lot more awkward if we were all in the same room together. It was either that or another foursome would’ve broken out. However, with the lack of alcohol and extreme hangover, I’m more inclined to believe that the former was more likely to have happened rather than the latter.
I remember stretching a bit as I yawned, feeing myself awaken with each passing second. Suddenly, I felt a weird texture on my back, as if I had a paste stuck on me. I rushed to a nearby mirror and undress only to see several wads of dried up cum all over my ass, back, and even my hair! It is impossible for guys to comprehend just how annoying it is to clean up cum off your hair! I’d rather deal with the pain of cum landing in my eyes rather then to have to deal with washing the cum off of my hair!
I was probably on my third cup of coffee when I saw my bedroom door quietly bahis siteleri open up. My mom drunkenly stumbled out of the room. She wore her dress from the previous night as she obviously did not want to walk out naked. She had makeup smeared all over her face and her hair looked as if she had just driven here in a convertible. The dress that she wore was low cut which exposed her giant cleavage towards any eyes that intended to glare. Similar to my ‘dried paste’ issue, I couldn’t help but notice that even though she was on the other side of the room, I could still see that she herself still had large wads of dried cum on her tits. As she zombie walked towards my direction, I noticed that her delirious state made it seem as if she didn’t know what planet she was on.
“Good morning, do you want a cup of coffee?”, I say as I attempted to sound as nonchalant as possible, attempting to not make this situation even more weird.
She nods her head up and down, unable to respond verbally. I make her a cup as we quietly sit in silence, just allowing the silence of the room to comfort us in these awkwardest of times. Thirty seconds pass…. Two minutes pass… Five minutes pass before the silence finally caused me to speak up.
“Look… about last night…”
Instantly, I was cut off by my mother as she responded with a tone of desperation, “You and I will have this conversation later… not now…. Later…”
The seriousness of her voice absolutely startled me as it was practically the first time in which I hadn’t heard her in her gleefully tone that I was so accustomed to. I quietly put my head down, focusing on the coffee rather than the situation.
After about ten more minutes of even more awkward silence, my mom finally asked me, “Can you just drive me back home in my car? I need to get some rest but I can’t drive.”
Realizing that I was the only one in a sober state of mind, I accepted her offer as we both hopped in her car before driving off. This car ride was so unbelievably quiet as the only sounds emitted were the crackling of static from her cheap radio and the sound of the tires scraping against the asphalt from the streets. It was about thirty minutes of sheer and utter silence, something in which I had never experienced to such a degree before.
I drive to her driveway before stepping out of the car. I hand her the keys to her car as she begins walking up the stairs of her porch.
“I’ll just get a cab from here, get some sleep”
“…thank you” she quietly said, practically whispering.
Just before I turned away, I felt compelled to ask her one last question. I needed assurance that there was no bad blood between the two of us.
I desperately called her out to her one last time, causing her to turn around at the sound of my voice, “Hey! I’ll see you soon right?”
My mother allowed a small smile to break free from her stern face as she says, “yes hija, we’ll talk soon”
We finally separated from one another just in time for a cab to approach. I rode the cab back home, allowing myself to process the events of the night before once again. It was only now that I was alone (minus the cab driver) that I was finally able to admit to myself that the events last night caused me to receive the greatest amount of pleasure I had ever felt in my life. My pussy began to moisten as I recalled the amount of times I had came and the sheer intensity that followed with each orgasm. Now the question that fell before me was, “Was I horny because of the guys that were ramming my pussy, or was I horny because of the sexy woman, ‘Maria’, the ‘friend’ that I lay with the entire time?” Obviously I know the answer now considering that I can’t even remember the names of both Things One and Two but at the time, I just couldn’t admit to myself that incest might have been something that I was into.
Fast forward a couple of days. I decided to text my mom for the first time since the incident, asking her if she wanted to meet up and have lunch at her favorite restaurant. She texted back just minutes later responding with, “Sorry, I’m busy with work today”. I understood as she obviously had a life outside of us. I waited a couple of days before asking her out again, asking if she wanted to go shopping at a local mall. “Sorry I have to clean around the house today”. A few days go by and I figured that I should just make things simple and just ask her if I could just come over and hang out. She then replied, “Not today”, almost with a tone that depicted just how little she cared about hiding them fact that she was clearly avoiding me.
I tried…. I tried over and over to meet up with her and she rejected me at every turn. My persistence began to fade once she just simply stopped replying to my text messages, leaving me out on my own once again. Anybody who has read the previous chapter knows the complications that I had with my mother and how I moved to Mexico just to be by her side. Now, after all these years of missing her only to have her for a few measly weeks canlı bahis siteleri and for all for it to be ruined by one drunken night.
I cried every night knowing just how badly I fucked things up with my own mom. I just couldn’t bare the pain of not being able to be with her and with her pushing me away. I blamed myself for everything that occurred that night.
It must’ve been about four weeks after the incident occurred, four weeks of absolute silence from my mother that it finally made me hit my tipping point. I knew that I had one last chance to either patch things up with my mother, or break things beyond the point of repair. As risky of a play it was, I knew that no matter the outcome that I needed to get out of this purgatory of uncertainty that I was currently in.
I drove to her house unannounced. I didn’t care to call prior to arriving as I knew that if I did, she would just blow me off as she had done repeatedly. Upon arriving, I once again had to muster enough strength to knock on her door the same exact way in which I had done when I first met her.
A few moments later and I heard her tiny foot steps walk across her wooden floor. Without hesitation, she opened it only to see me standing before her.
“Stephanie! Wh- what are you doing here?!”
Before I responded, I quickly made my way to her living room, practically shoving my way through the door to avoid her closing the door on me.
Once I was at a safe distance, I yelled out to her, “That’s it, you and I are going to have this discussion now! I’m tired of you dodging my calls and avoiding me. I want my mother back!!!”
My mother tipped her head down, attempting to hold back her tears as she replied, “I’m always going to be your mother, nothings going to change that…”
“Well it sure doesn’t feel like it anymore. You say that nothing will change the fact that you’re my mother, and yet, all it took was a drunken night of sex between the two of us and now it seems like you’ve become a stranger to me again!”
Despite my angry remarks and tone, I wasn’t necessarily angry at her. It was more the frustration that I felt about the situation as a whole.
My mother replied, “I know hija… I know! It was a mistake that I take full responsibility for. It shouldn’t have happened, I shouldn’t have ALLOWED it to happen!”
Realizing that my mother was attempting to shift the blame onto herself, I interrupted her, “No dont you dare do that! I was there, I was just as responsible for what happened just as much as you are.”
“But hija, not only am I older but I’m your mother… and mother’s are supposed to know best!”
“But you do! The only mistake that you’re making is pushing me away, leaving me on my own once again!”
“I know hija… I know”
She grabbed me and hugged me as we cried into each other’s shoulders. No words were exchanged, only the sounds of us whimpering that showed no signs of stopping. We talked for hours, discussing exactly what happened that night and confronting it head on. To sum it all up, we agreed that the events that took place that night was a mistake and we agreed that we shouldn’t allow anything like that to happen again. Despite the absolute agony I felt to see my mom in such a vulnerable state, I achieved exactly what I wanted. I finally patched things up with my mother and things went right back to normal… at least almost normal.
I do want to go on a slight tangent to discuss something important. For anyone wondering what real incest is like or even wondering if they should attempt to pursue their lustful desires in their own household, THIS right here is a perfect counter point to consider before making that leap of faith. I HATE it when stories revolving around incest all highlight just the sex and fun without ever taking into account the risk and the potential disaster that might ensue with something so taboo. It doesn’t matter for those that consider incest to be nothing more than a fetish (cue the ‘help step brother I’m stuck’ memes) but for those who genuinely want to act out their desires, just know that their is a HUGE risk factor when making that conscious decision. I got lucky, just know that one shouldn’t expect the same results.
After patching things up with my mother, we went right back to our previous schedule, hanging out once every other day or so. We would do the same routine things as before such as shopping, cooking… really anything as long as we were enjoying each other’s company.
However, there was a slight change in the atmosphere between the two of us, almost like there was a lingering vibe that would occur every now and then that would remind us of ‘that night’. They would occur whenever their was sudden awkward silences that would come forth randomly, or when one of us would accidentally touch each other that would send a jolt throughout our bodies, or when we’d just simply stop and stare at the other persons beauty. These moments would come up significantly more whenever alcohol was canlı bahis in our presence, as alcohol was what caused that forbidden night to occur in the first place! Aside from these sexually charged awkward silences, everything went right back to normal. Whatever lustful desires we felt towards each other, we made sure to bottle them as deep as possible to prevent them from reoccurring. The thing about deep desires is that although you think you might have a tight lid on it, within time, they’ll come forth bursting out with a tremendous force.
Six months later…
That’s right, it took six long and excruciating months for something significant to occur. Despite things being relatively back to normal, I realized over time that I just wasn’t satisfied with our relationship. Call it obsession, call it narcissism… I don’t care. I felt a pressure brewing from within unlike I had ever experienced before. I recognized that something wasn’t entirely right with me but over time, I realized what was wrong. I so desperately needed to feel the same way that I previously did that night. It took me six very long and very cruel months before I realized that I was craving my mother in a way that no daughter should. Call me crazy to but I knew my mom wanted it just as much as I did. To quote an 80’s classic, Scarface, “… the eyes Chico, they never lie!” I could see it in the way she looked at me, the way her eyes twinkled; they reacted the same exact way as mine did whenever I was within the presence of her beauty.
I realized that the only way of relieving myself of these lustful thoughts was to be completely transparent with my mother and open up to her about my concerns. I gave her a call to let her know that I was going to make a pit stop at her house.
Upon arriving, I realized as I walked into her house that she had company over. Her neighbors, which consisted of a lady around my moms age and her son who was a few years older then me, had made an impromptu visit. As they were talking about the daily drama that was floating around the neighborhood, I noticed the neighbor’s son, Thomas, was by my side attempting to make small talk.
Despite seeing him around several times before, this was technically my first time talking to him. I’ll admit, I was a bit awkward with my first impression as I wasn’t prepared to meet anybody nor was I even there to speak with them. I awkwardly made small talk for the next few minutes as I politely waited for them to leave so I could speak with my mother. Not wanting to be entirely rude, I did offer to add Thomas on social media so we could continue our discussion later.
Once they left, I walked up to my mom, attempting to muster the strength to speak to her once again. Before I even got the chance of speaking, she immediately blurted, “Well well, it looks like you and Thomas we’re hitting it off just now!”
Shocked by her statement, I confusedly asked, “huh? I was just being polite. I was just waiting for them to leave so that I could speak with you”
“You know Thomas is single, you should ask him out…”
These words hit the most sensitive part of my heart. Why did I feel anger towards that statement? Why was I hurt by the fact that she was so willing to offer me away?
Attempting to disguise the sadness in my voice, I say, “You… you want me to go out with him?”
My mother displayed a huge frown as she was unable to respond verbally, only nodding her head up and down.
“Okay”, was all I could muster before storming out, attempting to hold in my tears long enough to cry in the privacy of my car. I just couldn’t bare the pain in knowing that my mom didn’t share the same feelings that I felt towards her.
The ironic thing is that Thomas and I ended up spending the next few days talking via social media. We ended up getting along quite well and to no one’s surprise, he eventually asked me out. I reminisced on the words that my mom told me, telling me how I should date him. I allowed myself to bask in the humility that I felt that day before finally agreeing to go out with him.
Despite the fact that I hadn’t seen my mother in a few days, I did call her and I told her that I took her advice and that I was going to go out on a date with Thomas. I knew that she was jealous as I could hear it within the tone of her voice but I knew that there was nothing that I could do. After all, this was technically her idea. It’s not like I was purposely going out with him just to spite her. But at the same time, I didn’t feel nor show any remorse upon hearing the jealous within her tone of voice.
The day of the date came forth and to be honest, I was actually quite excited! I hadn’t been on an actual date since moving to Mexico so I found myself actually going through through the motions that comes prior to each first date. First came the nervous butterflies within the stomach, then came the physical prep such as the three S’s (shit, shave, shower) and then came the most tedious part of it all, the makeup. I was so excited for this date that I even wore my lucky dress! It was a long white dress that had huge yellow sunflowers all over. My mom was actually the one who purchased this dress, as it was the very first thing she bought for me after moving.