The nights 1

Note : This story is completely fictional!

With many thanks to my regular readers, for so much help and encouragement! Here is another classic read this and continue your writings to me. Very soon the super classic Incest the ever and never coming story from any other author “The rainforest” will publish here your favourite site wait for that.

(For those who ask, 'fact or fantasy' – this is based on elements of fact; the names are changed, but I know 'Kevin'.)

Some things Kevin knew about his father came from his own observations; some, his mother told him after Simon died. An often violent man, though rarely physically – he would shout abuse at his wife and occasionally go for days without talking to her. The least thing could trigger him off – and he would return to 'normal' with as much ease. Kevin remembered one occasion creeping up to bed as his father was shouting at his mother – and wishing that his dad were dead!

After nearly 30 years of marriage, Simon Bourne tired of his wife and had an affair with a woman from work. When he had his first heart attack, five years before, he was told to 'take it easy,' as another might be more severe. He heeded the advice – but only for a time! He had a massive heart attack during sex with his 'fancy woman' and it proved to be fatal. He died on April 1st - kind of poetic, don't you think?

Kevin's sister, Misie married when she was 20 and moved away to Canada, where she became a teacher.

Kevin was 24 when he married. After four seemingly happy years, Monova, his wife announced that she was a lesbian and was going to live with her 'lover.' After a rough divorce, in which his wife got half of everything they owned, Kevin had to sell their home to pay her off. The divorce happened shortly after Simon died, so Kevin moved back in with his mother.

Kevin and his mother always had a good relationship and they settled into a comfortable routine. She continued with her part-time care job, not for the money, but because she loved to help those less able than herself. In part, she grieved the loss of her husband, but she found more joy in her freedom from the dictator he had become. And besides, she had a son to look after, again!

In July, they went on holiday to a hotel on the coast. Despite asking for two single rooms, it was assumed that their same surname really meant they are mother and son so they wanted single beds in single rooms. But there are no single rooms available more than one. After a quick discussion, they decided to share the room. It was all quite proper - there was nothing wrong with a good mother and son being in the same room was there?

The weather was good and they enjoyed a pleasant, relaxing vacation.

For New Year, they made plans to go for several days to an old country house. Kevin had heard that the place held house parties and this one had the reputation for great food and good fun. Again, the booking was misunderstood - only this time all they were offered was a double bed. They talked it over and decided that it couldn't be so bad to share a bed. Besides, it was much too far to travel home again - and there was little chance of getting any other, local accommodation at that time of year. And - they would have missed the house party!

It seemed strange sleeping together, but as they had both done it before, they soon got used to it. They got into the habit of spooning; alternating nightly who was at the back (or front!). They were concerned because he slept nude while she wore pyjamas, but it proved to be no problem. In fact, they found it so cosy to cuddle up that they continued to sleeping together once they returned home. They also got into the habit of kissing, as they got into bed. It soon stretched from a quick peck on the cheek to a real kiss on the lips – not quite sexual, usual mother and son bed time goodnight kiss but enough to be enjoyable.

On the Friday night before Mothers' Day, Janet's pyjama top came out of the bottom and as he put his arm over her to cuddle her to sleep, he touched bare, warm midriff flesh. It felt so good that he didn't even think who he was doing it to, but gently stroked his mother’s smooth stomach.

"Ooo," she whispered in the dark, "what are you doing?"

"Just stroking a lovely lady," he told her. "I'll bet you were used to lots of that with Dad. I know I used to be, before Monova went off."

"You might have been," she answered, dolefully, "but it wasn't something we did in this house. Bed was for either sleeping, or when your father wanted it, sex."

"But didn't he stroke you at all, before you actually made love?"

"I'm not sure that I should be talking about this kind of thing with my own son," she mused. There was silence for several moments, then she said, "He would play with my titties a bit, sometimes, if he were in that kind of mood – and then he might not be so rough as usual. I assumed stroking and that kind of stuff only went on in the stories in my magazines, not in the real world."

He asked her, softly, "What did you mean by 'rough as usual'?"

"Oh dear," she said, obviously troubled by the turn of conversation, "should I be saying such things to my son?"

"It's all right, Mum," he whispered, all the while lightly rubbing her bare smooth belly, "it's just us – and you know I love you very much, don't you no mom?"

"Of course, and I love you too, Kevin," she told him, her voice steadying, "I love you dearly. Well, all right, I'll tell you. When he – you know – put his thing into me, he would usually just push it in hard and do - what he did. (When she told this matter to her own son her throat is dried without any wet even saliva.) It used to hurt quite a bit, though never as much as that first time, when he actually made me bleed. I thought I would die if it were like that, every time. My Mum never told me about that happening!"

"And was he always like that? Even after you first got married?"

And so, with a sigh, she opened up for the first time in her life and told him how it had been. When they first got married, Simon was loving, kind and gentle. Then the country went to war and he came home from that a changed man. He was selfish, less than kind - and sometimes violent. Kevin figured that when she married, Janet Winfield had been almost totally ignorant of sexual matters. She thought it was always right to be passive to her husband's dominance. Simon, to be fair to him, hadn't been much wiser.

"Poor Mum," he said, "so long without knowing what it's really all about."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"I mean that it seems you have never been told, much less shown, what a wonderful feeling the love experience can and should be," he told her.

"Oh," she said, quietly. "No."

It was then that it struck him - he was the only one around to enlighten his dear mother in matters sexual. And knowing how much he loved her, it seemed only right that, despite the taboo nature of what he was considering, he should go ahead. He realised that he would have to proceed slowly and gently if he didn't want to 'offend her sensibilities.'

"Do you like this?" he asked, still soothingly rubbing her bare flesh.

"Ooo, yes," she breathed, "but I'm not sure we should be doing it."

"Oh, but why not? We're not doing anything wrong," he told her, "and even if we were, it would only be for us." He let his hand slide up to her breasts and, very gently to caress the left one it is very smooth when he imagined.

His mother put her hand up to stop him. "Kevin – no!" she protested.

He held still, his hand cupping her warm, soft flesh. He leaned over and kissed her and said, "It's all right, Mum its alright it
S nothing wrong! They are only another part of your body." She allowed herself to be persuaded and he squeezed it gently. Then he rubbed with a circular kind of motion, letting his palm press lightly on the nipple. He moved over to her right breast and did the same, rubbing and pressing.

What Janet didn't realise was that her very own son was gently stimulating her sexually and that she was becoming aroused. She let out a soft moan, "Ooo," and he shifted his attention more specifically to her nipple. He rolled it softly between his finger and thumb and it began to harden noticeably. He left it and slid across her body to do the same to her left nipple, only by now her reactions had already made it into a hard little nub.

Time for a step further, he decided. "Mum, will you open your jacket for me?" he asked softly.

"Oh dear," she said, "I've already let you touch me – I'm not sure that I should let you see me, too. It's not right, is it?" I can’t understand what wrong I let you.

"Mother, dear mother," he answers gently, "this is just between us. I've never done anything to hurt you, have I?"

"Of course not, my dear," she replied.

"And what I've done tonight, has it been painful or enjoyable?"

"Oh, it's been really nice," she assured him. "I've really enjoyed it. I'm just worried that we might be doing something wrong."

"I would never do anything bad or wrong to you," he said, quietly but positively. "You feel so good and now I want to look at my lovely mother's beautiful breasts after some years that’s all."

She thought she saw a way put an end to his foolish indulgences. She unbuttoned her pyjama jacket, baring her top to him and said, "There you are – your Mummy's titties aren't much to look at, are they? All big and sagging - not what I'd call beautiful!"

He drank in the sight. With a little laugh, he said, "They're bound to be a bit big when they've been full of milk for us two greedy kids to suck on. And just because you're no longer some young girl, they're bound to sag a bit. From where I'm lying, they are certainly very beautiful! Even more so if we call them by a better name – and 'breasts' has a certain ring to it, don't you think? Come on, Mum," he coaxed her, "accept yourself for what you really are – a lovely lady, with a son who would love you even if you weren't!"

She wasn't fully convinced of her own beauty, but she was persuaded that he thought more of her than she did herself. So, with a little sigh, she relaxed herself into his loving care.

Kevin reached up and began to caress her left breast, again. At the same time, he leaned in and kissed her right one. He planted soft kisses all around its areola, brushing the nipple each time. Then he started to lick that hard, deep red nub of flesh. She pushed her head back into the pillow and her chest upwards as she let out a moan of "Ooo-oooh." That was really new; his father had never done anything like that!

Kevin was wrapping his tongue around her nipple and drawing it into his mouth. Sucking eagerly on it brought back vague, distant memories of babyhood. "Mmm," he murmured, "no milk, these days - but it still tastes kind of sweet!" He moved his hand down to lie on her stomach and immediately went to sucking her equally hard left nipple.

His mother put her hand on his head, running her fingers through his long hair. "Oh, my lovely baby," she crooned, "does my little boy live that? Mummy likes it, very much." I feels it never in my life ooooooH!…mmmmmmhhhhaaaa!

"Mmmmm," was all the reply he could give as he continued to enjoy a delight he hadn't known for over a quarter of a century. For long minutes, he kept moving from side to side, sucking on one nipple while his finger and thumb played with the other. And he let his other hand caress as much of her flesh as was exposed.

Soon, he shifted his attention upward and, after slowly kissing the tops of her breasts he kissed her neck. Well, more than just kiss it; he began near one earlobe and kissed his way all around to the other. His mother groaned as he began, "Ooo, I like that. That is very nice, very nice indeed," she told him. As he kissed his way across her neck, he would suck in some loose flesh and bite it, very gently, trying not to leave any love-bites. Then he kissed her ears and cheeks before homing in on her mouth.

After their customary kiss, he slipped his tongue through his lips and just lightly touches hers. By then, she was ready for almost any surprise and, finding the latest one quite agreeable, she pushed her own tongue out and licked his. Soon, as he led the way, their tongues were not only dueling together, but were dipping into each other's mouth and exploring fresh territory the forbidden wet passing through there tongues. And then they kissed – this time, a French kiss of love and passion it is not a mother kiss her son it like a lustful couples kiss. She was pleasantly surprised at the feelings she found welling up within her and, although she did not yet understand them, she was aware that her love for her son was getting enjoyably deeper.

Satisfied with the night's progress, Kevin said, "Time we went to sleep, I think. I love you so much, my dear, lovely mother."

"And I love you, too, my dear son."

She began to button up the top of her pyjama jacket, but he stopped her saying, "Oh no, please take it off, instead. Let's feel each other better as we cuddle up."

Trusting him even more, by then, she agreed to his suggestion and took it off, dropping it beside the bed. They lay together with his bare, though hairy chest against her naked back – and drifted happily into sleep.

Next morning, at breakfast, she was very quiet. Afraid she might be having second thoughts, already, Kevin asked her, "How are you, this morning, my lovely mother?"

"I'm fine," she answered, "just a bit worried that what we did last night may have been wrong – and that we could get into trouble for it."

"Mmm, I can understand that," he reassured her. "As I see it, we didn't actually do anything wrong, though some people might think us strange – even perverted. But that would only be if they found out and I'm not going to tell anyone! Are you?"

"Of course not!" she retorted. She was evidently much relieved and they spent the rest of the day much like any other Saturday.

Again a night came.That night, he was first into bed, watching his mother as she undressed. "Shall I leave my top off, again huny?" she asked. She hoped he would say 'yes' as she had really enjoyed his touches, the night before – but was still a little unsure of its rightness.

"I'd like that very much," he told her, "if you're happy about it. In fact, why don't you leave the bottom off, too? Sleep nude, like me. It's so free and comfortable."

"What, show you all of my ugly old body?" she protested, still not fully prepared to accept her own body.

"Come on," he chided, "it's all relative. As far as I'm concerned, you're lovely – and I'm happy to have the privilege to be the only one who's going to see you. And what are you – 52? Hardly old, are you?! I'll admit that your breasts aren't quite as firm as they were and your belly is a bit fat, but so what? I concentrate on the lovely person you are inside. OK?"

"But," she said, hesitantly, wondering if he really meant it, "wouldn't you rather have some gorgeous young thing, more your own age and start a family of your own?"

"I'd love to have both!" he told her, candidly. "But the 'gorgeous young thing' turned out to be a lesbian and left me! Now, this mature woman has never let me down and we love each other very much." He paused for a few moments, then added, passionately, "I know which I'd choose, any day."

"Oh, Kevin," she whispered, struck by his evident sincerity. She was sitting on the bed wearing only her panties, so she stood up, wriggled them down over her hips and let them slip to the floor very slowly. She picked them up and folded them onto the clothes pile. She hesitated for a minute she thinked she is now completely nude in front of her own son is it right!? What happens her!, then stood up and faced her son. "Still like me, naked?" she asked.

"Oh, Mum! You really are lovely!" he exclaimed, pulling back the bedclothes. "Come on in, I want you near me." His eyes bulged when he saw his own mom’s sexy body in fully without any cloth he can’t believe his eyes just watch between her thighs the most forbidden paradise of his mother it is fully covered with black hairs so he can’t visible its beauty.

She got in and snuggled up to him. They lay facing each other, arms wrapped around each other's bodies, both exuding love. Kevin kept his lower torso just far enough away from his mother for her not to feel his solid erection. They kissed; the soft kiss they had so often shared, but this one was different. As with the previous night, it became stronger, more passionate and quickly turned into a full-blooded french kiss.

Janet was a fast learner and it was her tongue that led the way, exploring her son's mouth. Quickly, both tongues were performing some intricate moves as each sought the interior of the other's mouth. Their heavier breathing betrayed the arousal each felt, though Janet didn't yet really understand the warm feeling that seemed to be permeating her belly. Climax and orgasm meant nothing to her, being as sexually naïve as she was.

Kevin moved shifted his attention, first kissing her soft neck, then slowly down her chest to her lovely breasts. The nipples were already hard as he gave her the full treatment, again. He fondled, he squeezed, he sucked and he nibbled. Unlike the previous night, though, she was ready for his ministrations and relaxed to enjoy every wonderful moment of it.

He caressed and kissed his way to her navel, licking into it as he reached it. At the same time, his hand was stroking across her hairy pussy. He allowed the tips of his fingers to lightly touch her outer pussy lips, but her old hesitancies surfaced once more. She tensed up and moaned, "Oh, should you be touching me there?" huny!!!?itssssmmmm! she can’t finish her words

"Relax Mum, it's all right," he soothed. "I'm only just touching you so that you're more aware of your own body and how good it can feel." He moved his hand gently back across her hairy patch, away from the uncertainty of her more delicate, private zone. "You're very hairy just here, mother dear," he said, stating the obvious. "Perhaps we should consider cutting some of this hair away. What do you think?" he inquired.

"Why would we do that?" she asked, innocently. "Aren't all ladies hairy around there?"

"Not these days," he told her. "With modern clothing and baths and showers, there's no need to soak up the sweat there, as there used to be. Everyone is different, these days. Some ladies – and men - like to keep the hair; some trim it down, even into fancy shapes; some shave it off altogether, leaving it soft and smooth. That's the way I like it. And before you can say anything – no, it certainly isn't ugly. In fact, it can be one of the most beautiful and sensuous parts of a lady's body!"

"Oh," she said, meekly, "if you say so. But I think we had enough excitement for one night, haven't we? Let's settle down and get some sleep, now."

So, they pulled the bedclothes over them and she snuggled up against his back. They both enjoyed the new sensation of her warm, naked breasts against his bare flesh. Kevin was even happier as he reviewed the progress they had made in such a short time. Mother and son were very content with their bodily contact as they fell asleep.

The nights 1

The rare nights with two persons one more night comes after this