It could be clearly felt as the rod in his flesh hole crumbled up again and again. I knew that it was the words I had written that were exciting him. As a mother, I am familiar with my son beyond words. Every tiny active or passive movement of my son during intercourse subtly modulated my sensual response. My son was gently caressing my back, my breasts, both my cojones. My son, my baby, was adept at arousing my pleasure. My smart son quickly learned to skillfully catalyze and control my orgasm. His multifarious stimulation of the rod, hands, lips, and forearms sent shivers down my spine, and my hands, eyes, and brain went haywire. I want the pleasure to last. To keep titillating my son’s libido with words.
My son gets sexual pleasure, giving me stimulation and transferring pleasure to me. Stroking, giving me pleasure on the epidermis of my body. The movement of the penis in my vagina gives me pleasure inside my body. What I ultimately want is for him to ejaculate and instill his pleasure in me. I prefer this time-lagged, mediated sexual pleasure to the pleasure I get from masturbation or intercourse with my husband. It’s all-encompassing, inside and out. The pleasure covers and floods the skin, the mouth, the tongue, the vagina, the uterus, the organs and the belly, and the rod is crashing and popping. My son hugged and kissed me with all his might. Unspeakable reactions of pleasure. Encouragement and gratitude? Or maybe it’s being naughty.
I am a mother who has been enjoying pin-up sex with my son for almost a year. I would like to share our unspeakable joy with my readers. I would like to write down all the feelings and thoughts of a mother and son united as one in great detail.
What prompted me to break through the mother-son social taboo was an unintentional reading of an online piece on mother-son incest. The result of that reading was that, for the first time, I accepted my son’s pleas and finally agreed to have coitus with him, engaging in full intercourse with him and allowing him to ejaculate into me.
The piece translated from Japanese told a story that was similar to my experience, and the text was well written and translated. So I privately downloaded that work and rewrote it based on my own experience. Although it is a rewrite, I believe that careful readers can find that there are many passages that are not in the original text, and most of the original passages have been supplemented based on my own experience. Whether my additions are detailed text or uninspired rhetoric, the reader has his or her own judgment, and I do not need to say more. I am grateful to the authors and translators of the original text for their inspiration. Inspiration to write, inspiration to deal with my son, inspiration to make the transition from intimacy to sexual intercourse with my son.
With words like that, the flaccid rod must be firming up again. My son’s penis was stuck in my vagina all the time. While we fucked on one side, I was the one who did the work, constantly tapping on the computer keyboard, describing the detailed process of our mother-son intercourse, and the various nuances of feelings during the intercourse. I was on my son’s lap, and while my son watched me write, he kept kissing my cheeks, my back, and running his hands back and forth all over my body, caressing my inner thighs and fondling my breasts. My son was on the verge of ejaculating the whole time, and we were constantly fine-tuning ourselves through mutual stimulation, both literal and physical, so that we lingered in the sexual plateau that precedes orgasm for as long as possible.
For women, the sexual plateau is a relatively accurate description. But for the man in intercourse, the sexual plateau is definitely not a flat, simple plain, but rather a steep, slippery hill. If you stand still for a moment, you will slide. But if you push a little too hard, you can really overdo it, and your son’s semen will gush out, followed by a rapid loss of libido. My son is already very experienced in intercourse and knows that after he ejaculates, my libido still doesn’t go down very quickly. Therefore, after ejaculation, my son would continue to tenderly touch me and comfort me. However, both we, mother and son, like to enjoy the sexual plateau that precedes orgasm. When my son’s libido is slipping, he likes to pull me back and ask me to kiss him mouth-to-mouth, just to turn himself back on. There are two ways I stimulate my son when I notice the penis in my vagina is softening. One was physical, which meant slightly raising and lowering his hindquarters to stimulate the penis directly with his vagina. Another way uses literal stimulation.
The meat bounced. My son’s urge to cum was back. I stopped moving my hips up and down for fear of him cumming.
After my son and I broke free of social taboos and established a physical and spiritual relationship, I watched my son gain an incredible, unshakeable confidence. My son no longer felt shame, inferiority, loss, or despair over any woman, because he knew that he could always return to his mother for affection, understanding, comfort, and relief. The son no longer shares the same morbid curiosity and hunger for sex as his peers and even most adults.
My son has gotten into the habit of going to sleep only after he ejaculates in bed with me. I want my son to go to bed early. Tomorrow there is tomorrow to study, live, and fuck. I don’t know if I will fertilize and get pregnant tonight. It is said that the chance of conception is only twenty percent every time you have intercourse during ovulation. Neither my son nor I want me to get pregnant now. My son and I both want me to be pregnant right now. I believe it is not difficult for the readers to understand the ambivalence of our mother and son. My son’s completely flaccid rod is getting erect again.
Getting pleasure inside my body. What I ultimately want is for him to ejaculate and instill his pleasure in me. I prefer the time-lagged, intermediated pleasure to the pleasure I get from masturbation or intercourse with my husband. It’s all-encompassing, inside and out. The pleasure covers and floods the skin, the mouth, the tongue, the vagina, the uterus, the organs and the belly, and the rod is crashing and popping.
My son hugging and kissing me with all his might. Unspeakably pleasurable reactions. Encouragement and gratitude? Or maybe it’s just being naughty. I am a mother who has been enjoying soulful intercourse with my son for almost a year. I would like to share our unspeakable pleasure with my readers. I’d like to write down the feelings and thoughts of a mother and son bonded as one in gigantic detail.
We had intercourse on one side, and I did the work on the other side, constantly hitting the computer keyboard, describing the detailed process of our mother-son intercourse, and the various subtle feelings during the intercourse. I was on my son’s lap, and while my son watched me write, he kept kissing my cheeks, my back, and running his hands back and forth all over my body, caressing my inner thighs and fondling my breasts.
With my son on the verge of ejaculation all the time, we as a mother and son were constantly fine-tuning our mutual stimulation, both literally and physically, so that we as a mother and son stayed in the sexual plateau that precedes orgasm for as long as possible. For the woman, the sexual plateau is a relatively accurate description. But for the man during intercourse, the sexual plateau is definitely not a flat, simple plain, but rather a steep, slippery hill. If you stand still for a moment, you will slide. But if you push a little too hard, you can really overdo it, and your son’s semen will gush out, followed by a rapid loss of libido.
My son was already very experienced in sexual intercourse and knew that after he ejaculated, my libido would still not go down quickly. Therefore, after ejaculation, my son will continue to touch me gently and comfort me. However, both we, mother and son, like to enjoy the sexual plateau that precedes orgasm. When my son’s libido is slipping, he likes to pull me back and ask me to kiss him mouth-to-mouth, just to turn himself back on.
There are two ways I stimulate my son when I notice the penis in my vagina softening. One is physical, which means slightly raising and lowering his hindquarters to stimulate the penis directly with his vagina. One more way uses literal stimulation. “I work with my son mother and son, mating, coitus, intercourse, and I want my son’s white cum to shoot into and out of my vagina.”
I write this to stimulate my son. My son’s meat stick is slackening. It’s the same rod that was just now bouncing gently, ready to ejaculate semen. The meat stick will respond to the words and firm up again. The damage done to modern man by society’s taboo against mother-son intercourse has become very apparent. Unmarried pregnancies, the so-called revolt of puberty, the dangerous period of adolescent growth, are all, I believe, the result of the taboo against parent-child intercourse.
My own experience as a mother has taught me that if I do not allow my son to explore and enter my body, I cannot explore and enter my son’s heart. If I don’t give my whole body to my son, my son will not be able to receive my heart, and we will not be able to understand each other completely.
If I obeyed social taboos, I would not be able to convince my son of my sincerity, and I would not be able to control and discipline my son, who is in a dangerous period of physical and mental growth. This seems to me to be the simplest of truths. However, most human beings would rather put their children in danger and let them run their luck in danger, even into the valley of the shadow of death, than to obey inexplicable social taboos.
The meat stick went slack. My son was stimulating my clitoris and wanted me to stimulate him and wanted me to write something more exciting now. After my son established a sexual relationship with me, he gained confidence and did better in school. Because, his flesh, his spirit re-established a firm connection with his mother.
My son, sexually aroused by sexy women outside, by classmates, friends, and passersby, would come to me, fuck me on one side, and confess to me on the other: “Mom, today I saw my pretty classmate wearing a short top and tight black pants. Seeing her slim waist and round ass, I wanted to take off her pants, shave her pubic hair, listen to her screams, and stick my rod into her vagina.
The meat stick stood erect and my son gave me a thrill up.
Since having a full sexual relationship with my son, I don’t worry about my son being stimulated out there anymore, instead I love it when he gets the thrill of excitement and comes home to take his sexual desires out on me. I love it when my son jets his semen into me. As a mother, I like to channel and guide my son’s sexual desires into my vagina.
I turned him on. The meat stick crumbled again. Since we had established a sexual relationship as mother and son, my son no longer suffered from sexual anguish. With me ready to fulfill his desires, my son no longer has a morbid curiosity or hunger for sex. The meat stick was flicking. At this moment, my son could ejaculate at any time.
The moment a man is about to ejaculate, the woman just needs to be still and the urge to ejaculate usually subsides within about ten to twenty seconds. After it subsides, stimulation needs to be resumed immediately in order for the man to maintain the pleasure of the erotic plateau. With a slight delay, the urge to ejaculate subsides too far, and the man’s pleasure quickly diminishes.
Re-propelling a man’s excitement to a sexual plateau requires harder and more skillful techniques. Nine times out of ten, the result is to catapult the man’s libido up too fast, over the sexual plateau, to orgasm and ejaculation. The crumbling rod of flesh bounced slightly again. There could be no stimulation, no friction on the son now. The slightest mistake and the semen would have to be ejected.
You can’t write stimulating words now, the slightest overstimulation and he’s going to lose control and ejaculate. With my son’s penis in my vagina, we were stimulating each other through words and flesh, so that we, mother and son, were constantly enjoying pre-ejaculation orgasms. I felt my son’s penis twitch again in my vagina.
It seemed that the words I was typing into the computer were stimulating my son a little too much. I’m afraid that he won’t be able to resist the urge to ejaculate and his semen will spray out, bringing our mother-son intercourse to an end. To write a bit of rational analysis to suppress my son’s urge to ejaculate for a while. As a mother, I have never been able to understand the social taboo against mother-son intercourse.
The average parent, seeing that his child is hungry and thirsty, tries to satisfy his hunger and thirst as quickly as possible by giving him water, orange juice, milk, fruit, sausages, bread. In order for the child to grow up healthily, the parent will also change the food and drink pattern to attract the child and fully quench his thirst. No one would want his children to dig a well when they are thirsty, or to hunt or gather their own food when they are hungry. However, in a so-called civilized society, when confronted with sexually hungry children, parents push them away and ask them to navigate the dangerous world on their own, asking them to solve their problems on their own. Unconscionable. Against nature.
The consequences of sexual taboos are well known: promiscuity, uncontrolled sexual encounters, rape, murder, suicide, impotence, frigidity, venereal disease. The rod softened. Not all the way soft, but this time it was noticeably softer than the previous times. My son’s urge to ejaculate was suppressed a little too much. His sexual pleasure was rapidly waning. My son was kissing the back of my neck, stroking and stimulating my clit, my nipples. My son wanted me to stimulate him up.
I landed on both feet and gently lifted my hips, moving them up and down so that my meaty hole massaged his rod. I could write some exciting words to get the meat stick hard again. In order to continue to write the rational words coherently, I now had to do two things at once, all at once. Sorting through rational thoughts while pondering how to catalyze my son’s pleasure.
While hurriedly typing, he massaged his son’s sex. The meat stick gradually regained its toughness.
I slow down the up and down movement of my hips. It’s okay to keep writing coherent words.
As a mother, I am powerless to save sick civilized society, sick civilized humanity. I can only save my son. After breaking the taboo of mother-son sexual intercourse with my son, I am glad to see that my son is able to face his sexual hunger with a normal mind, just as he faces his usual hunger.
My son, unlike the vast majority of his peers, no longer viewed sex as abnormally important or abnormally trivial. It was only after completing full coitus with my son that a thorough understanding between us, mother and son, began to gradually build.
We, mother and son, have learned to stimulate each other during sexual intercourse, to cooperate with each other, and to work together to maximize sexual pleasure. In the process, we also learned to experience, with the body to know each other all the subtle emotional, emotional fluctuations. Free from social taboos, free from guilt, mother and son frankly sexual intercourse, so that the son injected his full passion and semen into the mother’s body, so that we mother and son into the realm of true blending of water and milk.
The meat bounced. My son’s urge to cum was back. I stopped moving my hips up and down for fear that he would cum. After my son and I broke free of social taboos and established a watered-down physical and spiritual relationship, I watched my son gain an incredible, unshakable self-confidence. My son no longer felt shame, inferiority, loss, or despair over any woman, because he knew that he could always return to his mother for affection, understanding, comfort, and relief. The son no longer shares the same morbid curiosity and hunger for sex as his peers and even most adults.
The meat stick softened. It needs to stimulate my son’s text again. I want my son to jut his rod into my cervix. I want my son to jet and sow sperm into my womb. I want my son’s energized sperm to break through the outer wall of my egg. I want to be fertilized and pregnant. I want to see what kind of child I can have with my son.
The meat stick popped up frequently and stimulated him to the brink of ejaculation again, my son seemed to ejaculate, didn’t ejaculate, it was so dangerous, and today was a dangerous day for my conception. Frequent mother-son intercourse and emotional exchange, information exchange, so that my son knows my physiological cycle like the back of his hand. Not only can we use contraception, but we can also enjoy the pleasure of being especially stimulated because of the danger.
It’s been three hours since coitus began this evening. The longer the orgasm lasts, the more prone a man is to sudden ejaculation or a rapid loss of libido. The longer the orgasm lasts, the more the maintenance of a man’s pleasure requires a high degree of delicate balancing skills, skills acquired through a long period of love, care and attention.
I feel my rod softening rapidly now I want to have another child, I want to be a mother again, I want to produce milk again, I want to savor the sensation of my breasts swollen and aching with milk again, I want to give one side of my bulging breasts to my little baby, and the other side to my son. I want my son to coitus with me on one side and suck on my breasts on the other, I want my son to help me, to help me figure out how to harmonize the production of breast milk with the ebb and flow of my sexuality, I want my breasts to spray into my son’s mouth and my son’s cum to spray into my vagina, I want to develop new pleasures.
My son wrapped his arms around me hard, my son screamed, my son ejaculated, and my rod shuddered continuously, the first three times connecting like a succession of beads, then six more times, one after another at intervals long enough for me to count them clearly. In the middle of the last two intervals, I keyed in three words.
Time and time again the rod quivered unexpectedly, and time and time again my son ejaculated unexpectedly, pushing me to high and high orgasms. Tonight, the number of times my son ejaculated and shuddered broke all previous records. The rod of flesh was completely soft and perfectly finished for a perfect and complete fuck.
I had a strong feeling that I had successfully conceived with this perfect intercourse and that I was going to conceive and give birth to our mother and son’s love child.