Mom x son true love

"What's for dinner?" Oliver called out as he stumbled into the house, his school bag slapping against his back with every step. His eyes searched the kitchen, looking for signs of his mother's usual culinary disasters.

Martha, her orange hair in a frazzled mess, spun around from the stove with a wooden spoon in hand. "Oh, Oliver," she said with a sigh of relief, her green eyes lighting up. "It's just spaghetti tonight. I know it's not much, but I had a hell of a day at work." The kitchen was a mess of pots, pans, and scattered noodles, a testament to her usual chaotic cooking style.

Oliver's eyes lingered on her chubby figure, his mother's apron stretched tight over her ample chest. He felt a stirring in his pants, one that had been growing stronger with each passing day. He tried to hide his burgeoning erection, but it was a losing battle. His thoughts grew more daring as he took in her exhausted, yet oddly alluring, appearance. He knew he wanted more from her than just her comforting embrace.

Martha noticed her son's lingering gaze and felt a blush creep up her neck. She'd always been a little self-conscious about her figure, especially with her dyslexic tendencies making it hard to maintain a strict diet and exercise routine. But Oliver had always had a charming way of making her feel seen, even when she felt invisible. She put the spoon down and turned to face him fully, her heart racing at the intensity in his gaze.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. Oliver took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. He was tired of feeling like a typical teenager with a crush on his mother; it was more than that now. He craved to claim her, to fill her in ways she never knew she needed. "Mom," he began, his voice low and steady, "I've been thinking about us."

Martha's eyes widened, the room suddenly feeling hotter, her anxiety spiking. "What do you mean, sweetie?" she asked, her heart racing. Oliver reached out and placed his hand on her arm, his thumb tracing small circles, sending shivers down her spine. "I mean," he said, his voice thick with desire, "that I want us to be closer."

He took another step closer, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned in. "Closer how?" she managed to murmur, her mind racing with both fear and a strange excitement she hadn't felt in years. "You know how," he whispered, his hand sliding down to caress her hip. "I want to make you feel good, Mom. Like no one else can."

Martha's body responded before her brain could catch up, a warmth pooling between her legs. She'd had her share of fantasies about her son, but she'd always pushed them away, telling herself it was just her lonely imagination playing tricks on her. Now, with his hand on her, the lines between reality and desire blurred. She looked up at him, searching for any hint of a joke, but all she saw was a fiery need in his eyes that mirrored the one building within her.

"Oliver," she breathed, her voice shaking. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. Her body melted into his, his tongue exploring hers with a hunger that left her gasping. The smell of burnt sauce filled the air, forgotten as their kiss grew more intense.

Martha's hand found the counter for support, her knees threatening to buckle. He reached out and turned the stove off, his movements sure and confident. The sizzle of the spaghetti fading into the background as he slid the pan off the heat. Without breaking their kiss, Oliver led her to the nearby table, their bodies pressed tightly together.

He began to untie her apron, his hands shaking slightly with excitement. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing her plump, pale breasts straining against her shirt. He reached under her shirt, cupping them gently, feeling their weight and warmth in his palms. Martha gasped into his mouth, her hands finding his hair, her nails digging in slightly as his thumbs brushed over her nipples. They were both breathing heavily, the tension in the room palpable.

Oliver stepped back, taking in the sight of his mother before him. He could see the doubt and fear in her eyes, but also the desire that matched his own. He knew he had to be the one to take the next step, to show her that this was what they both wanted. He took hold of her hand and led her to the couch, his cock straining against his pants.

With a swift movement, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chubby, pale body. His green eyes never left hers as he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down. His erection sprang free, standing proud and thick at 18 inches. Martha's eyes widened at the sight, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement at the thought of her son filling her up.

Oliver took Martha's hand and led her to the couch, his eyes locked on hers. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, his cock pressing against her thigh. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he reached up to unbutton her blouse. With trembling hands, she helped him, letting the fabric fall open to expose her voluptuous chest. He leaned in, capturing a nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and teeth, making her moan.

Martha's hands roamed over his back, her anxiety slowly giving way to the sensations he was stirring in her. His skin was warm and soft, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing that she hadn't felt in so long. She leaned back, allowing him to undo her bra, her breasts spilling out. He took one in each hand, squeezing gently as he continued to kiss and nibble. She felt a wetness growing between her legs, the anticipation building.

Oliver slid her skirt up, exposing her pale, chubby thighs. He kissed his way down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He reached her panties, the damp fabric a testament to her arousal. He looked up at her, his eyes questioning, and she nodded, her cheeks burning with desire. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, revealing her glistening pussy. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and she shivered at the raw hunger in his gaze.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his 18-inch cock standing tall and proud. The head of his penis rubbed against her swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Martha's eyes rolled back in her head, a soft moan escaping her lips. He took his time, teasing her, letting her get used to the sensation of his size. Each pass was met with a whimper from her, her body begging for more.

Oliver watched her reactions closely, his heart racing as he finally pushed the tip of his cock inside her. She was so tight, so wet, and so warm that he had to fight the urge to plunge in all at once. Instead, he went slow, letting her body adjust to his size. Inch by inch, he pushed into her, feeling her stretch around him. Her walls quivered, tightening and releasing as she tried to accommodate his girth. It was a dance of pleasure and pain, and he could see the conflict in her eyes.

When he was finally all the way in, he paused, watching her belly bulge out with his length. It was a sight he had fantasized about for so long, and now it was a reality. Martha's eyes were wide with a mix of shock and arousal, her breathing ragged. He knew he had to be gentle with her, to show her that this was more than just a physical act; it was a bonding experience that would bring them closer than ever before.

Oliver began to move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, watching the pleasure build on her face. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, trying to keep him in. He reached up and pinned her legs against her sides, holding her open for him, making her completely vulnerable. The sight of her spread out like this, taking all of him, was more than he could handle. He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing deeper and faster.

Martha's nails dug into the couch cushions as she tried to hold on to some semblance of control. The pain was intense, but the pleasure was overwhelming. She had never felt so full, so alive. Oliver's weight on top of her was like a warm blanket, grounding her in a world that had spun out of control. She threw her head back, her moans filling the room, each one a little louder and more desperate than the last.

He thrust harder, his hips smacking against hers with a wet, slapping sound that seemed to echo through her entire being. She could feel him pushing against her cervix, trying to claim every inch of her. It was a sensation she had never experienced before, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her body tensed around him, trying to adjust to his length, her walls stretching to their limits.

And then, with a sudden, intense push, Oliver broke through her cervix. Martha arched her back, a scream of pleasure tearing from her throat. The pain was sharp but quickly overwhelmed by the most profound sense of fullness she had ever known. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she grabbed onto his shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to hold onto reality. The room spun around her, and she felt a wave of warmth spread through her body, coating every nerve ending in pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

Oliver watched her reaction, his own eyes wild with lust. He had never felt anything so incredible, so powerful. He began to thrust rapidly, his cock sliding back and forth through the tight, warm passage of her cervix. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he knew that he was addicted. Each time he pushed in, he hit that spot deep inside her that made her body shake and her legs quiver. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the air, a testament to their passionate union.

"Mommy," he murmured into her ear, his voice thick with desire, "this is it. I'm going to fill you up. I'm going to make you mine forever." The words sent a shiver down Martha's spine. The idea of her son impregnating her was both shocking and thrilling. She had never felt so desired, so needed, so completely taken. Her body responded, her pussy clenching around his shaft as she felt her orgasm building.

Martha moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and need. "Oh, Oliver," she gasped, "yes, baby, don't stop. I want it all." She had never been talked to like this before, never been taken so roughly yet with such tenderness. Her hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax with each thrust. Her nails dug in, leaving red marks on his pale skin, a silent declaration of her own need.

Oliver growled in response, his movements becoming more feral as he drove into her. "You're so tight, Mom," he groaned, his voice deep and animalistic. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" He could feel his balls tightening, his orgasm approaching like a freight train. The sight of his mother, her eyes glazed over with desire, her mouth open in a silent scream, was almost too much. He leaned in and whispered more dirty words into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Martha's body responded to his filthy whispers, her hips bucking up to meet him, her pussy clenching around his shaft. The words were a catalyst, pushing her closer to the edge of pleasure she hadn't even known existed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in deeper, urging him to say more. "Yes, Oliver," she panted, "talk dirty to me. Make me yours."

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic and powerful. "You're such a good little slut for your son," he murmured, his voice a dark caress in her ear. "You love this, don't you?" Martha's cheeks flushed at the words, but she couldn't deny the truth. She had never felt more alive than in this moment, with Oliver's massive cock claiming her inch by inch.

Her pussy was stretched to the limit, the friction exquisite and almost unbearable. She felt like she was being torn apart and put back together with every stroke, each one more intense than the last. His words grew dirtier, more demanding, as he whispered about how much he loved watching her take his cock, how she was made to be his, to be filled with his cum.

The tension built, coiling in her belly like a tight spring, and then, with one final, powerful thrust, Oliver's entire body tensed, and she felt the hot flood of his seed filling her up. He groaned her name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into her, his cock pulsing deep within her womb. Martha's eyes rolled back in her head, her body arching off the couch as she reached her peak, her pussy clamping down on him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Her orgasm was intense, a blinding burst of sensation that seemed to go on forever. She could feel Oliver's warmth inside her, his cum spilling out around his cock, marking her as his. He held her tight, his movements slowing as he kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. She was lost in a sea of pleasure, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her climax.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the love and adoration in his gaze. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a deep, lingering kiss that spoke of his love for her. "I love you, Mommy," he murmured against her mouth, his voice filled with emotion. The words sent a thrill through her, and she kissed him back with all the passion she had kept bottled up for so long.

Martha felt her heart swell with love for him, a love that was no longer just maternal but something much deeper, much more primal. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, as if she could somehow absorb his love into her very soul. His cock was still lodged deep inside her, and she could feel the warmth of his cum leaking out around it. The sensation was strange yet oddly comforting, like a promise of a bond that could never be broken.

"Are you ready to be a daddy, baby?" she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with both fear and excitement. Oliver's eyes searched hers, and she could see the question there, the doubt that she could possibly mean what she said. But the love and desire in his gaze told her that he was ready to take that leap with her. He nodded, a smile playing on his lips, and she knew that there was no turning back.

He pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined juices. "I hope I got you pregnant after that," he said with a smugness that only a teenager could muster. The words sent a thrill through her body, a mix of horror and exhilaration. She watched as he stood, his erection still hard and proud, and she felt a sense of pride that she could do that to him, that she could make him feel that way.

"Come on, let's eat," he said, tucking himself back into his pants with an ease that belied their recent activity. Martha nodded, her legs wobbly as she stood. They made their way back to the kitchen, the smell of burnt sauce now a comforting backdrop to their newfound intimacy. Oliver dished out the spaghetti onto two plates, his movements careful and precise, as if he didn't want to break the spell that had been cast over them.

They sat down at the small dinner table, the tension between them now a different kind. Each bite Martha took was loaded with unspoken meaning, every slurp of sauce a silent echo of their carnality. She couldn't help but glance down at her belly, wondering if this was the moment she had conceived. The thought was both terrifying and thrilling, a secret shared only by the two of them.

Oliver, for his part, seemed completely at ease. He chatted about his day at school, his friends, his plans for the weekend, as if nothing had changed. But every so often, his hand would brush against her thigh under the table, a gentle reminder of what had just transpired. His touch sent electric shocks through her body, making her acutely aware of the potential growing inside her.

Martha couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement, tinged with fear, as she thought about the possibility of carrying her son's child. It was a taboo she had never dared to consider, but now it felt like a reality that was slowly taking shape. She took another bite of the spaghetti, the flavor lost in the haze of her thoughts. What would people think? What would happen if they found out?

A month later, she confirmed her suspicions. Two pink lines on a plastic stick held the answer to a question she had been too afraid to ask. She sat in the bathroom, her hand shaking as she stared at the pregnancy test. The room felt small, the walls closing in as she tried to process what this meant for her and Oliver. She knew she had to tell him, but she didn't know how. Would he be happy? Proud? Or would he be scared like her?

When she finally gathered the courage to tell him, Oliver's reaction was nothing short of pure elation. He swept her into his arms, lifting her off the ground in a bear hug that made her laugh despite her nerves. "You're going to be a daddy," she whispered against his shoulder, and he set her down gently, his eyes shining with excitement. He took her hand and led her back to the couch, where they had shared their first intimate a month ago.

From that moment on, Oliver treated Martha like a goddess. Every day after school, he would come home and immediately seek her out, eager to shower her with affection and make love to her. His touch was gentle yet firm, a silent promise of his commitment and love. They made love in every room of the house, exploring each other's bodies with a newfound sense of urgency and passion.

Martha's pregnancy grew more pronounced with each passing week, her belly swelling with the life they had created together. Oliver was fascinated by the changes in her body, tracing the curves of her stomach with a sense of awe and possession. He knew that she was carrying his child, and that knowledge fueled his desire for her even more.

Every day after school, he would find her, no matter where she was in the house, and pull her into his arms. His kisses grew more urgent, his touch more demanding, as if he was afraid that the moment would slip away from them. He would lead her to the nearest soft surface, his cock already hard and insistent against her thigh. They made love slowly, his length sliding in and out of her with the ease of long practice.

Martha felt her body stretch and change, the weight of the baby a constant presence between them. Yet, it didn't deter Oliver; if anything, it made him more attentive, more eager. He would spend hours worshipping her swollen belly, kissing and caressing it as if he could feel the life growing within. His hands would wander down to her pussy, which had grown more sensitive with each passing day, and he would tease her clit until she was begging for release.

The moment she felt the first twinge of contraction, Oliver was by her side. His eyes were wide with excitement and fear, but he was there, holding her hand, whispering words of encouragement as they rushed to the hospital. She squeezed his hand tightly as each wave of pain hit, his touch grounding her in the chaos. Through the long hours of labor, he was a rock, never leaving her side, never letting her doubt their love for each other.

When the nurse finally placed the tiny, squalling girl into Martha's arms, she couldn't believe it. The child looked up at her with Oliver's green eyes, and she knew in that instant that she was staring into the face of love. The baby girl was perfect, a little miracle that was a testament to the depth of their taboo relationship. Oliver's eyes filled with tears as he took in the sight of his daughter, and Martha felt her heart swell with love and pride.

Their lives went on, wrapped in a cocoon of secrets and shared passion. As the years passed, the baby grew into a beautiful young girl with her father's mischievous smile and her mother's fiery spirit. They named her Lila, a name that seemed to capture the essence of their love. Despite the whispers and judgments of the outside world, they remained steadfast in their devotion to each other and their little family.

Martha watched her daughter blossom, her heart swelling with a love that was as fierce as it was complex. She saw in Lila's eyes the same curiosity and innocence she had once had, and she knew the day would come when she would need to explain the truth. It was a conversation she dreaded, but one she knew was inevitable.

Lila grew up surrounded by their unconventional love, oblivious to the whispers outside their home. She adored her father, as all daughters do, and looked up to him with a mix of admiration and awe. Her mother's love for him was unshakeable, a beacon that guided their lives through the storms of societal norms and expectations.

As she grew into a teenager, Lila began to notice the way her mother and Oliver interacted, the secret glances and stolen touches that spoke of a bond far beyond the ordinary. It was inevitable, really. The way they moved together, the way their bodies seemed to fit like two puzzle pieces made for one another. It was as if they shared a secret language, a dance only they knew the steps to.

Martha had always felt a twinge of anxiety when it came to Lila discovering their taboo, but she knew it was only a matter of time. And when Lila finally confronted her, the look on her face was a mix of confusion, disbelief, and something else—curiosity. She had seen the way Oliver looked at her mother, the possessiveness in his eyes, and it had sparked something within her, a hunger she didn't fully understand.

One evening, after a particularly tense dinner where the air was thick with unspoken words, Lila approached Martha, her eyes searching for answers. "Mom," she said, her voice wavering, "what's really going on between you and Oliver?" Martha took a deep breath, her heart racing as she prepared to shatter the innocent illusion her daughter had grown up with.

Martha took Lila's hand, leading her into the living room where they could talk privately. She sat down, her eyes never leaving her daughter's, and began to explain. She told her about the night the barriers between them had crumbled, about the love that had grown from the ashes of societal norms. She talked about the passion, the pleasure, and the deep, unyielding bond that had formed between her and her son.

Lila's eyes grew wider with each word, a mix of shock and fascination playing out on her young features. She had always felt a strange tug towards Oliver, a desire that went beyond the typical teenage crush. As her mother spoke, she realized that she had been born from that very same love, and the revelation shook her to her core.

Martha watched her daughter's expression carefully, her own heart racing with a mix of fear and hope. She had hoped that Lila would understand, that she would see the depth of their love and accept it as the truth. And as the story unfolded, she could see the beginnings of that acceptance in Lila's eyes.

Lila listened, her young mind racing with questions and emotions she didn't quite know how to process. Yet, as her mother spoke, she felt a strange sense of... belonging. It was as if the puzzle pieces of her life had finally fallen into place, explaining the electricity she felt when Oliver looked at her, the way her heart fluttered when he was near.

"Can I join you and Daddy?" she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning and desire. Martha's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she was speechless. Then she sighed, a deep, resigned sigh that seemed to carry the weight of their unorthodox love.

"Lila," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "this isn't something to take lightly." She searched her daughter's eyes, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. But what she saw was a hunger, a longing that mirrored her own when she had first succumbed to Oliver's advances. "You're old enough to understand the gravity of what you're asking," she continued, her voice firm but gentle.

Lila nodded solemnly, her eyes never leaving Martha's. "I know it's weird," she said, "but I can't help how I feel. And if it's what you both want..."

Martha took a deep breath, her mind racing with the implications of what Lila was asking. "Your father and I will talk about it," she said finally. "We'll decide what's best for all of us."

Oliver watched from the doorway, his heart pounding. He had known this moment might come, had hoped and feared it in equal measure. He saw the love in Lila's eyes, the same love that had brought him and Martha together. It was a love that transcended the boundaries of societal norms, a love that had created this beautiful girl standing before them.

Martha turned to him, her expression a mix of fear and hope. "Oliver," she said softly, "what do you think?" Oliver took a step into the room, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face. He knew what this meant for all of them, the potential consequences and the incredible joy that could come from it. He took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to cup Lila's cheek.