Sex stories, incest, mom and son, Mother and son spend Christmas alone…The white snowflakes whirled against the darkness, caught in my headlights, and rushed up against the windshield of my car. I was perhaps driving a bit faster than I should have, considering the weather, but I was anxious to get home. The winter holidays were finally here. I had been looking forward to it, what with all the assignments and studying in college. It would feel good to get away from it all and spend some time with my mother, as well as my relatives.
Mom had been living alone since I moved out, so I made sure stay over on the weekends as often as I could. I still considered it my home. We lived in a suburb to a larger city, so it would have been an easy commute, but at 21 I still felt the need to have my own place. Luckily, my car, an old Nissa Altima, allowed me the option to visit often and still maintain a social life. The trip only took me about 40 minutes or so.
‘Last Christmas’ was playing on the radio as I turned into the streets of my childhood. Same songs every year, as far back as I could remember. I didn’t mind. I liked the repetition, the tradition. Same streets, same people, same white snow I used to build my crappy snowmen from.
Same house. I parked the car on the driveway, in front of the garage. I walked up to the door through a thick layer of snow, creaking satisfyingly under my steps. I put down my bag and rang the bell.
Victoria, my mother, opened the door with a smile on her face. She was wearing jeans and a white top which hugged closely to her form, revealing the shape of her well sized breasts. Her chestnut colored hair lay over her shoulders in twirls. My mother, who was 42, looked great for her age. Hell, she looked great for any age.
“Hey there hot stuff!” Mom greeted. She used some inventive pet names for me at times.
“Hi Mom!” I answered, as she came over and hugged me tightly.
“Merry Christmas,” she added as she held me in her embrace. I could feel her tits being mushed against me. Even through my jacket the feeling of her breasts against me made inappropriate thoughts flash through my mind.
I should probably add that older women had always been a huge turn on for me. Later, that preference had evolved into fantasies specifically about the sexiest older woman I knew of, which was my mother. Actually, scratch that. Sexiest woman I knew of, regardless of age.
I almost exclusively searched for porn with women who looked like her, and frequented sites with mother and son incest stories. That’s all it was though. Stories and fantasies. I knew very well that that was never going to happened, and I was fine with it. I would never jeopardize the relationship with my mother for one of my dumb, depraved fantasies. At least, so I had always thought.
“Merry Christmas to you too Mom,” I added, a bit late. “You look great!”
“Thanks sweetie!” She beamed at the attention. “I made myself look extra good today, since my only son is coming home for the holiday. You haven’t seen him have you? A dark haired, handsome boy with an amused grin on his face?”