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Incest on Valentine's Day

My mother has always been a hopeless romantic.

She's someone who rushes out to see the latest romantic comedy, gets overly excited by her friends' wedding announcements, and if she gets particularly busy with her career in corporate law, you might be able to find the occasional romance novel placed sloppily underneath a pile of paperwork.

But by no means was she a desperate woman. At 45 years old, she still has plenty of men throwing themselves at her. And for good reason too; my mother is the 'perfect woman' in many regards. She has the beauty and charm of a Hollywood actress, along with a warm and inviting personality that has endeared her to so many people. She's also prim & proper in every way imaginable. On the weekends when she's at home, it would be fairly common to see her with her hair tied behind her back with an apron on, baking goods for people in the community. But on the weekdays, it was always clean cut business suits along with her legal briefcase. That's the kind of woman she is.

Whenever she was asked by her friends about a lack of a steady love life since the divorce, it seemed like my mother always had a steady list of reasons why nothing ever worked out for her. It was always one thing or another. But eventually, she wouldn't need to look any further than home.

Incest on Valentine's Day

It was the middle of an afternoon and I was studying hard for a college exam.

When I had arrived home moments ago, my mother fast asleep on her bed with the door wide open. She was still fully dressed in her business suit and I even noticed that her pantyhose were still on her feet. I couldn't blame for her being so tired since she was working overtime because of a recent merger.

Then suddenly, I heard it.

A small moan came from my mother's room. 'It's probably nothing,' I first thought to myself. She probably just woke up from her nap and was stretching in her bed. Then I heard it again, but this time it was louder and more distinctive. I've been with enough women (and have seen enough porn) to know whether thatkind of a moan is sexual or not- and clearly it was.

My mind quickly went from school work to being in a state of frenzy. My mom was obviously masturbating in her bedroom with her door wide open. She had no clue that I had already arrived home because she was sleeping, and if I wanted to, I could quietly have a look at what she was doing to herself. But could I? Could I actually spy on my own mother doing something so personal and so private?

I knew I shouldn't have, but I couldn't resist. Curiosity had gotten the better of me and so I quietly stepped into the hallway and took a peak inside her bedroom to see my mom in the most vulnerable position I had ever seen her in.

She was completely bare from the waist down. Her pants, pantyhose, and undergarments were all off. Her professional business suit on her upper body was still worn nicely, with her jacket and blouse still properly buttoned up. Her hair and make up were still neat, showing that she just arrived home not too long ago.

But it wasn't just the lack of clothes which grabbed my undivided attention, but what she was doing to herself. There was a faint buzzing sound in the room. Her milky white legs were spread wide open and she was using a vibrator on herself- pushing and pulling it, in and out of her vagina.

I was mesmerized by the sight of my prim & proper mother masturbating herself with such intensity. I couldn't believe how aroused I was becoming just by watching her. I loved the sight of her clenching her eyes shut, which brought outthe slight wrinkle lines on her face. Her chest was moving up and down from her ever-increasing heart rate. She was soaking wet down there with her vaginal fluids brightly glistening along her brown labia and thick pubic hairs.Her legs were slowly moving and her feet were curled up and clenched tight. And of course her fingers; her fingers were still busy at work, taking turns rubbing her clit and fingering her dripping wet vagina.

In all our years of living together, my mom has always been the symbol of morality and purity. Of course she enjoys sex like anyone else, but actually seeing it person with her face twisting & turning was an utter shock to put it lightly. But what was equally as shocking was noticing that I was becoming HARD watching my mother masturbate like this.

But suddenly, as her leg muscles clenched and showed signs of an impending orgasm, her eyes opened in a flash. And that's when she caught me, lifting her head up to see her son watching her.

I immediately turned away and headed back to my room, hoping deep down that my mother would stupidly think that I was just walking by and caught just a split second of what she was doing, rather than just standing there and spying on her.

My mother came out of her room to follow me. Her pants were sloppily thrown on and she was barefoot. And her shirt was untucked. She obviously wanted to explain herself, as we both faced each other with the same mortified look on our faces.

She was struggling for words before finally saying, "I'm so sorry you had to see that...I had no idea you were home....God, I've never been so humiliated in my entire life."

She was almost in tears as those words came out of her mouth.

"It's okay mom," I replied, trying to comfort her. "We're all human and we all have our needs. Don't forget how many times you've caught me doing that growing up. It's not that big of a deal."

"But you weren't supposed to see me like that. I can't imagine how lewd and vile that must have looked to you. I'm your mother and this just isn't right. And why were you even WATCHING me in the first place?"

"I don't know mom...I guess it just kind of happened," I stammered.

Her response to my answer was to simply put her head down in shame. She looked crushed that her own son not only saw her in the state that she was in, but was actually spying on her.

I reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, it's Valentine's Day, and neither of us have a date tonight. So instead of sitting around feeling depressed over this, I'll take you out to a nice restaurant for dinner. It'll be fun."

"You don't have to do that for me. But thank you for the kind offer though," she said appreciatively.

"Nope, you're going. And I won't take 'no' for an answer."


It was late in the evening when me and my mother arrived at the restaurant. Sure, it was kind of awkward given that the room was filled with loving couples, and that we were the only people sitting together with such an age gap. But regardless, it felt like a date the way my mother had dressed up for the occasion. And to my surprise, my mother wore a sexy tight fitting black dress with a plunging neckline, showing the center of her bare chest, just above her bra. Her hair was elegantly done as was her neatly applied make-up. Simply put, she looked stunning.


"I never thought my Valentine's Day dinner would be with my own son of all people," my mother said jokingly as we ate.

"Believe me, I didn't expect this either. But it's a heck of a lot better than watching you sit on the couch all night watching dvd's of romantic comedies that you've seen a million times- no offense mom, but it's a sad sight. Especially on your favorite day of the year."

"I guess you're right. Thank you for taking me to such a nice restaurant. I should be a little more appreciative towards you for this," she said with a playful wink.

"No problem. But that raises the question; what's a woman like you doing being single on Valentine's Day? You're a real catch and I'm sure you can have any man you want."

"Well, you can take your pick of reasons. For the last few years it's been my hectic career which has led me to have to cancel dates, making the guy think that I'm either cheating or that I'm not interested. And sometimes I can be a little too picky and my standards are a little high. I'm not getting any younger here and it would be nice to settle down with 'Mr. Right' before it's too late."

"I'm sure you'll find the right guy soon enough. Like I said, there are lots of guys who would date you in a heartbeat," I told her.

"That's very kind of you to say. Anyway, enough about me rambling on about myself, let's talk about you for a moment. You're a handsome young man; how come you aren't dating anyone?" she asked.

"Same reasons as you I guess. I've been really busy with school this semester, and frankly, a lot of the girls in college aren't my type. I've always been attracted to older women to be honest."

I quickly realized what my words meant in this conversation since my mom was over twenty years older than me, and by the look on her face, she noticed it to.

"Older women huh?" my mother noted with an eyebrow raised. "Have you ever been with one?"

"No comment," I playfully replied.

"And to think, I expected this dinner to be like any other night," she smiled. "So tell me, what is it you like about older women? And was your first time what you expected it to be?"

"Do we really have to do this?"

She nodded and took a sip of her drink.

"Fine," I replied. "I love the class and elegance of older women, and their confidence. And I love the way they look. The lines, the wrinkles, the soft skin; I think it's all really sexy."

"Hmmm...Now there's an interesting answer. And how many have you been with? Were they pretty? Age?"

"I've only been with one, and it was amazing. She was in her mid-40's and it was everything I expected it to be. And yes, she was really pretty. She actually reminds me a lot of you, with the same style and personality. Her body is shaped like yours as well."

"Is that why you've been glancing at my cleavage all evening?" she asked with a little smirk.

"Very funny," I replied. "It's not my fault you wore such a revealing dress."

"Well, you asked me out to dinner on Valentine's Day, so I wore my Valentine's Day outfit."

"Fair enough. Now let's turn this conversation back towards you where it belongs," I said. "What kind of men are you interested in?"

She took another sip of her drink and replied, "All kinds. I really don't have a preference, just as long as he's intelligent, charming, and is a real gentleman. The last two men I've been with were much older than me, so I wouldn't mind being ...

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