This is a mother-son incest story that features a lot of hot action between a teenaged boy and his mom, his best friend and his girlfriend. You don't have to read it, so you shouldn't complain if you cream your jeans when you do.

If you like this one, check out my other titles: Good Son, Oedipus Simple and The Adventures of Beck and Tony, also in the Incest section of Nifty.

If you're a fan, toss me a mail at arionneos [at] gmail {dot} you know the rest. If you're an asshole or a cop, don't bother writing because I don't care what you have to say; and anyway no one's making you or anyone else read this stuff. It's stupid to read 60,000 words of stroke fiction ... and then send a note to the author to tell him what a perv he is.

Trevor's Summer

In the last chapter, Trevor played some safe-sex games with Amy. Here, he shares a shower with his mom.

6. Shower Games

Trevor let the warm water sluice over his naked body, his cock hard and his balls full, thinking of Amy, how she'd played with his cum earlier, wondering at himself, wondering why he'd turned down her offer. She had asked him if he wanted a BJ, and he'd said no.

Why the fuck not? he wondered.

Mike sucked him off daily now and it was great, lazy summer afternoons spent in pure physical bliss, but Trevor knew he wasn't gay; he was just letting Mike do him -- and returning the favor -- because it was fun, it was private, and it was safe. They were both guys, and they weren't doing anyone but each other. No one was going to get pregnant, and no one was going to get AIDS or herpes or crabs or any shit like that.

Besides, when he got right down to it, Mike gave awesome head. The boy loved sucking his dick and wasn't shy about it; he really knew how to give Trevor a blowjob, licking his cock, sucking his balls, nestling his plump tip right against the back of his open throat.

And he always seemed to know exactly what to do and when to do it and always took it right through to the end, moaning in delight from Trevor's first gasping pulse to the very last squirt of his cum, and he always swallowed, sending all that fresh boy-juice sliding down his throat with a loud, happy gulp. Whenever Mike was over, Trevor knew he could count on having his cock sucked until he was totally dry, which usually amounted to the boy giving him head four or five times a day. Mike just loved to suck the sperm right out of him, and Trevor always obliged him in his lusts.

But head was all it was for Trevor; he wasn't going out with Mike, or with Amy ... but he could have been a boyfriend to either of them; Mike would say yes to any perverse idea that ran though his horny mind, and he could have done pretty much anything he wanted to with Amy that afternoon, he was sure. He had two hot friends who wanted his dick, wanted it badly, and while he shared it all the time with Mike, he'd held back with his closest girl friend.

He knew he could have fucked her that afternoon, could have shot his wad way inside her -- well, no, he'd pull out like Bill and blow his stack on her tits or something -- but he hadn't.

For some reason, he didn't want his very first real time to be with her. Later, when he'd had some experience, maybe.

But watching her push his sperm into her wet unprotected cunt, watching her fuck herself with a fingerful of his cum, had really stoked him. She wanted to have his baby. She had said so, even after she came; he knew it was true. He had watched her put his sperm inside her own body. Maybe she was even pregnant right now.

And the thought of that, of his sperm filling her, making her pregnant, made his balls feel hot and swollen between his legs. He wanted it as much as she did, maybe. Maybe they would have a baby someday.

"Tss," he said. Maybe he should start by asking her out.

She seemed to want to jump past all the preliminaries and get right to the fucking, which he supposed wasn't a bad thing, but he didn't want it to go down like that.

Yeah, but ... why?

Mostly it was because he was afraid of messing up their friendship. Bill was never friends with his ex-girlfriends; most of them hated him.

Amy liked him, and he liked her -- but he also liked Jody, and he didn't think things with Amy would be the same as with Mike -- it wouldn't be as casual, and someday probably Amy would find out about him messing around with Mike and holy shit what a freak-out that might be ... and then another thought rose in his mind.

Mom.

He'd been thinking of her a lot lately. A lot.

Too much, maybe.

He eyed his cock, solid and stiff, and it eyed him.

Really, he wasn't bad for his age. Beth had been right about that. He was big, bigger than Mike, bigger than most of the guys in PE, even the seniors, and he was still a growing boy. And he knew from Bill that the cum he made was pretty impressive.

He was basically a man now.

And Mom ... she wasn't even thirty yet, and her tits still looked good. And her ass. And her ... everything. She kept it shaved; around her pussy was a healthy tuft of pubes, but she was glossy-smooth on her legs and under her arms. She kept lean too, working out at the gym, using a bike to get around and just walking a lot. She had a pretty good body, really.

Mom knew now. She knew Beth had sucked him off, and it was okay with her. That had worried him more than he wanted to admit, the idea she would be angry or hurt with him because he'd let Beth give him head.

She probably knew about him and Mike too. How could she not? When they came, they yelled.

Shit, it was good with Mike.

He wondered if Mom ever did anything like that and figured probably, his soap-slick fingers gliding over his balls. Probably she sucked dick, and probably it was before she fucked a guy, or maybe even after, or maybe sometimes just for the hell of it, like Beth had done to him, like he and Mike did with each other. It didn't mean anything but it was a hell of a lot of fun.

But lately that hadn't been happening; in the last few years there had been no guys for her at all. Just him and Mom.

And ... really, that was best.

Maybe.

Maybe he was getting in the way again; maybe she didn't go out with anyone because having him around might complicate it all, like with Dave. The twinge of guilt he felt surprised him, but so did the other thought, the idea that he was almost glad Mom was holding off because of him.

When he was a little kid the idea of Mom being fucked by some creamy guy had bothered him. It still did, but not because he thought it was awful any more.

Because ... because he wanted to...

I wonder if she would feel it if I shot my load in her.

The vision of her came to his mind, watching as he stroked the full seven inches of rigid, solid sex in his hand, her pussy open and waiting for him. Let me have that, she whispered.

Yes. Yeah. Okay.

And then he understood.

That was why he could say no to Amy that afternoon. He didn't really want to fuck her at all, at least not right then.

He wanted to fuck his mother.

Oh shit, he thought. Oh holy fucking shit.

"You about done in there, honey?" she called to him, her body hazy on the other side of the shower door.

In his hand his cock stiffened as he thought how it would feel to be engulfed by her swollen, warm cunt, wondered how it would be to really fuck a woman for the first time, to fuck her, to come naked in her, to fill her pussy up with his cum. The same pussy he'd come from.

"Yeah, Ma," he gasped. "Yeah, I'm almost done..."

His mother's cunt, warm and pink, glossy with her fluids.

His naked cock in there, inside her, fucking her until he came in her hot tight twat.

She knew what he was doing to himself, but not what he was thinking of. "Finish it off," she said, her voice amused. "Finish what you're doing before we're all out of hot water."

Sperm, thick and white, his, flowing out of her open sex in the hottest cream pie any boy could give to his mom. And she was standing right outside the shower now while he jacked off, naked, waiting for him to finish, waiting for her turn. He could see her body, the dark circles on her tits, the hazy blur of hair between her legs.

"Oh God, Mom," he grunted. "Oh fuck yeah..."

"What, honey?"

"Oh fuck," he gasped. "Oh fuck..." She could hear him, he knew. She could hear everything he said, could hear his moaning voice as he jerked off, thinking of her. "Just wait a minute..."

"You want me to leave?"

His tip was plump and full, slipping through his palm, and he imagined what it would look like to let that warm flesh slide over his mother's glistening labia, press it into her, watch it disappear fully into her vagina as she groaned with pleasure, just like Bill with Beth, only he wouldn't pull out at the end. He'd let it all go, right into her. "No," he gasped. "Just wait a minute ... I'm almost done..."

He knew she could see him through the glass of the shower stall, knew she could tell by the rapid motions of his elbow what he was doing to himself. He grunted heavily, not caring any more, not worried that she could hear every word he said. "I wanna put it in you, Ma," he groaned softly, hardly daring to lift his voice at all, hoping and fearing that she could hear him clearly. "God fuck Ma I wanna do you so bad..."

"Son?"

If I could do that, I would, he realized. I'd fuck Mom. If she came in I'd fuck her, I'd fuck her right now if she was in here with me. He shuddered and knew what would happen next, unable to stop it, lost in the passion of his solo arousal, his impending orgasm. "Ahh, wait Ma --"

She must have heard him. She must have. And she knew he was jacking off; he knew she could see him masturbating. "What, sweetie?"

"N -- n -- nothing..." I'm gonna come. Oh shit, I'm gonna come while I jack off right here in the shower and think of fucking Ma. "Shit, just wait," he gasped, stroking his spring-steel dick. "Oh shit, I'm done..." Oh fucking God I'm gonna blow my wad ... oh God Ma I wanna fuck you so bad ... ahh fuck, here it comes...

It did.

"Ah fuck Ma, ah fuck, ah fuck I'm done --"

He came, his sauce creamy and rich, the first hot jet surging out of his naked body to froth on the shower wall and fall across the floor. The spray was enormous, a heavy white splotch jetting from his pumping cock to land all over just as the shower door opened, his mother's eyes wide, watching him blow his goo everywhere.

He saw her from the corner of his eye and kept coming, kept having sex into his own hand. He couldn't hold it back and he didn't even try, having his orgasm right in front of his mom's face. "Fuck -- wait --" His back spasmed and his hips gave a hard thrusting jerk as he helplessly shot his boy-juice, his balls tight against his crotch.

She gasped, seeing the heavy rope of cum spurt from his body, caught in the thrusts of his climax while she watched him. "Jesus Christ --"

"Fuck," he groaned. He and Mom both watched, amazed, as his dick pointed straight up in his working hand, the rich load of cum blasting out of his swollen, pulsing tip, amazing arcs of jizz flying in a nearly-vertical streamer of spunk to land thickly on the pale pink tiles of the shower wall well over his head. He pumped hot and heavy, knowing she was seeing it all, the vision of her tits coming to him, his dick cradled by them, bucking and spasming out a huge warm spray between them, her glistening freshly-fucked cunt still open from his working cock, a little river of his cum leaking out.

"Ahh, fuck, Mom," he gasped as he imagined his slick tip sliding into her once more, bare, to finish the job, shooting the last spurts of his load into her open sex instead of all over the shower.

"Sorry," she managed, and closed the door, thinking he had been yelling at her for what she had seen.

He came and came, his seed splattering onto the ceramic before him, his eyes wide and his breath in tiny gasps as he milked himself slowly of the last of his thick teen-boy cum. He stood stunned, feeling weak and amazed at what had just happened. Even by his own standards the fluid yield was enormous.

He had pumped fifteen times, blowing an impossible fountain of sperm while his own mother had watched him.

Trevor moaned softly, studying the sheet of jizz that had spurted from his body, trying -- and failing -- to rinse away all the ropy surges. He'd just had the hottest fantasy of his life, had jerked off to the idea of ... of...

Jesus, he thought. I can't really want to do that. I can't really want to fuck Mom.

And yet he did. There was the evidence, sliding thickly down the wall right in front of him.

Oh God, I want to put it in my ma. I want to fuck her. I want to have sex with my mom. I want to fuck her all night long.

"Come on out," she said quietly. "If you're ... if you're really done this time."

"Yeah." He was panting heavily. "I'm done this time. J -- just a minute." He shuddered, rinsed his cock free of all the soap and spunk. He turned off the water, then accepted the towel handed to him as he opened the frosted glass door. "Thanks," he said faintly, standing naked before her, his penis still half full. "Your turn."

"About time," Mom said. "I was thinking you got sucked down the drain." Her eyes lingered for a moment over his sex, beginning to sag between his legs, long and thick and still softening from his cum a few moments earlier. "But I bet you'd clog it."

He rolled his eyes. She knew what he'd just done, of course. She knew what he always did in the shower, and this time she had seen it all. It was practically a running joke between them anyway, and right then a lot of the joke was still running down the tiles, a heavy gooey exclamation mark, an unmistakable track of semen, his semen. She knew he jerked it a lot but never gave him shit for it, though this was the first time she had actually seen him masturbating.

It's just boy-stuff, she always used to say. It rinses off like everything else.

He blushed, glancing down at his swaying, reddened sex organ. "Fuck, Mom," he said, working the thick cloth over his body.

She smirked. "Not tonight. You'll mess up my hair."

"Not before you shower," he countered, feeling the same wave of the unreal wash over him that he'd felt just before Beth's mouth had closed over his dick, before he'd gone down on Mike for the first time, before he had sucked Bill off that one time. His balls tightened at his crotch and his heart sped as he thought of her naked body, how it would look as she stood before him, fucking her deeply while the water ran over both of them, sluicing along their joined skin, her back tacky with the cum he'd jetted earlier, precursor to the load he was about to put into her, ejaculating inside her.

"You save me any water?"

"Yeah." He swallowed, his hands suddenly shaking, his cock full again between his legs. "Want some company?"

She hesitated -- he was sure of it -- blushing a little as her eyes moved over his chest and down his front to the heavy silhouette of his sex, erect in the towel. They hadn't shared a shower for a long time.

Did she understand what he was suggesting?

And was he even sure he was suggesting it?

"I do. But not not right now. You're underage and anyway it's a school night," she said, smirking uneasily, her tits bobbing visibly with the rapid thrusts of her heartbeat. "Do your homework."

He groaned theatrically, then blushed massively as he understood that she hadn't exactly told him no, and kept the towel over his instantly-hard-once-more cock as he watched Mom drop her own towel to step naked into the shower, her breasts high and firm, her blonde bush thick and robust as she started the water.

What would she do if I went back in there with her?

His mind filled with ideas, and his dick filled too.

He opened the door. "Mom?"

She turned to him. Saw his erection. "Not now," she said. Water streamed along her naked skin, over the join of her thighs, making her pussy a refractive focus of his desire.

He stepped in. "Mom..."

"N --" She looked at him again, relaxed. "Do my back, okay?"

He got into the shower with her, naked with her, boy and woman, mother and son, and took the glycerine bar in his hands. He had bought it for her last month, part of a Mother's Day gift; it was lavender and peppermint, her favorite. The stall filled with the gentle scent.

He worked it, lathering his hands as she waited. He set the bar aside and reached for her. She shuddered when his fingers slid over her shoulders, blocking the spray with his back. "You want the body wash too?"

"I'll do that," she said. "Just the soap for now is good."

They had done this before, washed one another before, but never in the last two years, since he'd ... grown; and he ... he ... the things he wanted. Oh, the things he wanted.

He stroked his slippery warm hands along her back, over her spine, and slicked her, then took the scrub, the pouf a silly purple color that was supposed to go with the bar. Her skin was clear as the suds ran down her body. She was warm and tight as she waited, as her son washed her naked skin, her body facing away from his, trembling. He massaged her, working at her as she moaned gently, worked along the groove of her spine, stroked her skin gently with the scrub, let the pouf fall away, let his arms slide around her, his deft fingers slipping up her bare torso to her warm, full breasts. "Mom..."

His bare cock was stiff on her taut, smooth ass, easing into the cleft above her thighs.

Her nipples were solid under his stroking hands.

"Not now," she said again. A rebuke, but soft. "Trevor, honey. No. Please, no." Her heart was pounding at the nearness of him. He must not have known how close he really was, how easy it would have been for him to have what he wanted so badly, to take her from behind, right where he stood. All her son had to do was back away a little, change the angle of his sex a little and then ease against her again, slipping his rigid cock into her pussy, and if he had done that she would not have stopped him.

"Mom..."

"Please, honey." She was shaking so hard, so hard in his arms. She moaned. "Please, son. I can't. We can't. Please leave me alone for a while."

"I want to," he whispered.

"I know," she said, her breasts slick in his hands, her nipples taut peaks under his gently gliding fingers. "But we can't. You're my son. You're my boy. Go -- go away."

"Ma," he said, his hands sliding down, down along her belly, down toward her bush.

She groaned. She caught his hands in hers and pulled them away gently, before he could touch her, before she lost all her will to resist him. "Please, baby," she whispered. "I'm your mother."

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know. I don't care."

I don't either, she thought. "Oh God. Oh my Christ." His half-virginal organ was steel wrapped in skin, hot and needy where it pressed her body, answered by the slick heat that burned deep within herself. He knew what he was asking her to do, and she wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything or anyone in her life.

Oh Christ, she loved him. She loved him so much.

But ... "Go away, son."

He relented, his hands sliding off of her skin as he backed away from her, the solid bar of his cock leaving an imprint of heat on her ass. "O -- okay. But Mom..."

"I know, baby. I know." She didn't dare turn around right then; if she had seen him, his magnificent young body naked, his teen-boy hard muscles glossy with water, his long penis fully erect over his swollen balls, she knew she wouldn't have been able to resist taking him, fucking him, having him where they stood. She blinked helplessly at the tiles on the wall, at the trail of his spunk sliding over them, thinking how sweet it would be to have his cum inside her, thinking how badly she wanted to lick it right off the wall, and she shuddered, splashing it down into the drain. "Go make dinner, okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Okay." He stepped out, shivering, leaving her to the stroke of the warm water on her body.

He closed the stall, his sex solid between this thighs.

"We'll talk," she said, the water hissing over her flesh behind the glass. "We'll figure this all out."

"Okay," he said at last, shivering, wanting, needing.

He lingered for a while as she luxuriated under the spray, watching her naked body turn in the stall. She's standing in my cum, he thought, and went away to fix dinner, realizing partway through the work that she knew it, and didn't seem to mind at all.

In the next section, Trevor and his mother end the agony of waiting.