Sinkcest

I was a young mother, just living on my own when I had him. His father was a handsome guy I met at a club, I'm embarrassed to tell you I don't even remember his name. I was different back then, a party girl, and it was such a shock when I missed my period. I spent nine months trying to turn my life around, get my GED, enroll in the local Community College. I could not abort my baby, even though my mother begged me to, I would prove to everyone that I would be the best mother a boy could have.

Eighteen years later everyone loves to ask me, "how do you stay so youthful?" It's easy. I have a son who takes care of me, as soon as he was able to take steps, he'd waddle around my bedroom in his diaper, picking up my crumpled up clothes on the floor, and carrying them to the laundry basket. I picked him up, kissed him repeatedly, "you're my little helper boy," I coo-ed to him, "Mommy loves you so much." It's not like I asked for it to be this way, but this is how it is in my home. When a mother carries her son for nine months, the son picks up on the mother's moods, her worries, he's perceptive to what gives her happiness, and my son proves this theory to be true. He knew that I needed help without me asking for it, and it pleased him to take over chores around the house, small chores at first, vacuuming, doing the dishes, then larger, helping me manage my finances, and fixing the constant stream of problems with my old car. My sweet baby boy is amazing, he's a senior in high school now, and I dread the summer when he leaves for college.

I in the late morning to get ready for the third shift at UnitySquare Health. My boy will be home from school soon, I know he'll want to use the shower. I had better fit in my shower before he gets home. I turn on the water and I hear the pipes bang and struggle, no water comes out. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I go to the sink, the pipes rattle and a spurt of air comes out of the nozzle. I text my son, "water isn't working." He texts me back, "the water in the sink works, plumber is coming tomorrow." Damn this old house. I need to at least take a little bird bath before work. I grab my body soap and sponge from the side of the tub and move to the kitchen sink.

I see the sprayer next to the sink and my recall my very first orgasm in my parent's house. It was late at night and I took the shower handle and placed it between my legs, bucking my hips back and forth against the firm spray of warm water until I came. I know I have time before he comes home, at least a couple hours. "It'll just take a second," I hear my mouth try to convince my body. I peel off my clothes and hop onto the cool, granite counter top. I test the water, it works, and it's warm. I start to wash myself, treating it like a sort of foreplay, I let the warm water run through my fingers, up my arms, focus on the water dancing on my abdomen, my breasts, my nipples, yes-- it feels good, it feels wrong. I feel a pit in my stomach, the same sense of "this is wrong" when I would feel as a young girl trying not to get caught masturbating with the shower handle. I smile, reminiscing feels good, I've been so tired lately, but today I feel awake, and shameless. I hear the door open, and my son tip-toe in. I prop my ass up so he could get a view of my body, I point my toes as I let the water wash over my legs, splashing onto the ceramic floor. I know he's watching, and I pretend he's not my son, but a handsome young man like the gorgeous young man I met at a club when I was just a naughty carefree girl with a fake ID. I pose like a pinup girl, I feel the water get warmer, steam rolls up from the sink, and it helps me pretend that I'm having a sex dream, filthy and shameless. I hear him walk towards me, and I feel wet.. I'm not thinking, but allowing my body to take over, he walks into the kitchen and I pretend to be surprised, pouting out my lips in the sexiest way, the way I've perfected in my mirror. His eyes are dreamy and entranced by me, but something takes him back to reality-- no, I'm not ready to go back to reality. I convince him to take off his clothes, to pretend with me, pretend that I'm not his mother.

He predictably pulls down his pants, my young man wants to please me. I smile. I'm letting my body take over, I don't think, I just let it happen. It's been so long. I've been so good. I want to be bad, and why not..? Don't judge me, just watch what happens next and you'll understand that sometimes, in some circumstances, you must surrender to your instincts.

From his words:

When I was very young, before I could even get a hard on, I would tug my penis dreaming of my mother. My mom is a goddess, sweet an innocent, but if you spend enough time with her you will see slivers of the bad girl that she used to be. Mom has me wrapped around her finger, all she needs to do is furrow her brow and it sends me jumping to satisfy whatever is frustrating her. I'm only happy when she is happy. I dream of satisfying her in other ways and I've failed several times in getting close to her.

Last month I was feeling brave and horny, I stole her dildo and put it in my dresser drawer, unfortunately it smelled of soap, not dripping in her sweet, wet juices, as I had fantasized. I knew she'd want to have a talk with me about that. It failed. She ignored the incident. She just took her dildo back, but kept her top drawer locked. She was quiet around me for days, she made me so nervous, but slowly we went back to our old loving mother/son relationship, the incident was forgotten and silently forgiven within a couple of weeks.

I've devised a new plan. I know mom takes a bath at night, and a quick shower in the morning. What if I turn off the water in the house before I leave for school, shut off all water except the kitchen, and wait for her to climb into the sink? The old farmhouse sink is big enough for my mother's petite body. If I put Tactile brand, water-resistant glue in the bottom of the sink, then mom would have to beg me to help her get her perfect, naked body unstuck, out of the sink. I could put my hands all over her perfect, nude body. It's the perfect plan!

I waited outside our entry door with my ear pressed to the thick wood, I think I hear a soft moaning, is it sexual moaning, or a frustrated "let me out" sort-of moan? I creep in and see my mother bathing freely in the sink. She's moving around, the glue doesn't seem to be working, but she's putting on a show for me like a Las Vegas pinup dancing in an oversized martini glass. Her raven black hair is piled up in a high ponytail, she's soaping her body with a sponge, I focus on the sponge gliding over her hard nipples.. oh the soap, it's got to be ruining my plan, it's removing the glue. I'm hiding behind the doorway, with a clear view of my perfect mother. My cock aches, throbs, and I squeeze it over my jeans. There's no time to be disappointed when my mother is arching her back, and I can see her perky ass, the pink pounds of her pussy.. she's a goddess. I feel brave, I'm magnetically drawn to her, the pull is so tense that I feel like I'm floating to her, and I'm helpless to her pull. She sees me and...

Watch the story unfold..