“I am, am I?” She asked, raising her eyebrow, as my hands went to her calf. “Now I really need to know.”
“I don’t want to offend you,” I said, my hand moving slowly up her leg.
“Tell me, young man,” she demanded, using the same tone she had many times when I was in trouble.
Going for broke, I answered, “You are submissive and desperately looking for someone to take control.”
“Is that so?” She asked, although she didn’t deny it.
“The fact that you are not denying it proves it is true,” I answered, “plus it’s all part of the feminine psyche. Women always have to be seen a certain way, but the truth is that they desperately want to be seen in a totally different way.”
“And what way is that?” She asked.
“Honestly?” I asked, again drawing her in.
“This hasn’t been honest?” She questioned with a smile.
“Touché,” I nodded, my hands getting closer and closer to her thigh without her making even a faint attempt at stopping me.
“Well?” She questioned.
“A submissive slut,” I answered, “like Mrs. Raske is to me.”
“What?” She gasped, clearly shocked by this information.
“Let’s just say I started the new year with a literal bang,” I joked.
Her face went red as she realized that I had fucked someone she had since submitted to.
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said, my hand moving under her skirt and directly to her pussy, “I know all about your lesbian submission games with my MILF pet.”
“Oh God,” she moaned, because of both my revelation and my fingers on her, not surprisingly, very wet cunt.
“Just give in to me, Mom,” I ordered, as my fingers traced her pussy lips through her sopping wet panties.
“Matthew, this is wrong,” she protested weakly even though she didn’t move away or move my hand away.
I knew I had her hook, line and sinker, as I purred, and moved between her legs, “It’s okay, Mom, we both know you want this and need this.”
“Matthew,” she said, her eyes showing her complete overwhelmed confusion, “I’m your mother.”
“And I’m your Master,” I countered, using a word I was confident would trigger yet another gush in her panties and break down her already fragile resistance to the act of incest I was offering.
“Matthew,” she repeated, a look of trepidation and lust in her eyes, clearly overwhelmed with the sudden shift in conversation and expectations.
“Remember what you said to me during the holidays?” I asked.
“No,” she shook her head, completely at the whim of my words and actions.
“I pointed out that motherly nurturing was critical to proper psychological development and you said, and I’m quoting you verbatim here, ‘Well anytime you need me, I am here for you'”.
“Yes, but I didn’t mean this,” Mom protested.
“Didn’t mean what?” I asked, wanting to hear her say the words.
“This,” she repeated, pointing to me between her slightly spread legs.
“And what is this?” I asked, as I moved my hands under her skirt, reached her panties again and smiled as she voluntarily lifted her ass up so I could slide them down her legs.
“Oh, Matthew,” she weakly said, her face flush, “I, um, we can’t.”
“Mom, there is nothing more natural than sex and nothing more pure than intimacy between a mother and son,” I suggested, as I tossed her panties onto the floor. “It’s quite frankly the most natural thing in the world.”