All characters portrayed in this story are over the age of 18-years-old. There are no minor characters in this story.

Author’s note: I’m a survivor of sexual abuse from the ages of 5 to 9 by three men. As if I had a sign on my forehead, sexually abuse me, it’s never just one abuser. Be careful of strangers, friends, and relatives with your children. Don’t leave them alone with anyone.

To answer the questions continually posed to me. No, I didn’t enjoy being raped. It was horrifically scarring. I was a minor and it was nonconsensual sex.

To answer the second question continually posed to me, if I had a son and/or a daughter, which I don’t, I don’t have any children, would I have incestuous sex with him and/or her. Certainly not. Knowing first-hand the detrimental repercussions of sexually abusing children, I’d never do that to a child, especially to my own child.

Yet, I write about father/daughter and mother and son incestuous sex between consenting adults because so very many people weren’t as lucky as I was. Some who were sexually abused as children turn to drugs and/or alcohol, commit suicide, or even become abusers themselves. Our communities are terrorized by pedophiles and our prisons and mental institutions are full with sexual abusers. The consensus of professionals is that many pedophiles cannot be cured.

I was one of the lucky victims. I had years of therapy with a trained therapist. Then, I turned to writing. Writing was my therapy as it still is now. I hope you enjoy my story.


Walking on eggshells while knowing their sexual behavior was wrong and expressly forbidden, just as father and daughter were sexually attracted to one another back then, years later, mother and son are sexually attracted to one another now too.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

I’m Christine a 45-year-old, single mother living with my 22-year-old son, Daniel. Only, our living situation is not typical of other mothers and sons living situations. Sexually frustrated, I’m horny. I’m always horny. It’s been years since I’ve had deeply penetrating and mutually satisfying sex. If it wasn’t for my finger, my vibrator, and my dildo, I’d probably explode and go crazy from pent up sexual tension. Like father like daughter, I have the libido of my Dad.

The problem is, and although I know that it’s morally wrong and expressly forbidden but I’m sexually attracted to my adult son and my adult son is sexually attracted to me. Just as I can’t help myself from being sexually attracted to him, he can’t help himself from being sexually attracted to me. Being that incest is forbidden and illegal in many places, especially between a father and his adult daughter and a mother and her adult son, incest is nasty.

Why is incest nasty? Because unless forcing someone to have incestuous sex with a blood relative, they must trust you explicitly. Then, abusing that trust by taking advantage of them to have sex with them is just wrong. Other than the sexual feeling that I received from having sex with my father and now receive from having sex with my son, there’s nothing good about incestuous sex. Being that I had incestuous sex years before with my Dad, I know better than to have sex with my son but shit happens. Just as I was curious about what it would feel like to have incestuous sex with my Dad, I was curious about what it would feel like to have incestuous sex with my son.

When masturbating myself, I’m unable to stop thinking about Daniel, I can’t stop myself from wondering about my son’s fingers and hands would feel like when touching me and feeling me in a sexual way. I can’t stop thinking about my son’s tongue licking me and his fingers fingering me where no son should ever lick and finger his mother. I can’t stop thinking about my son’s erect prick in my hand, in my mouth, and in my pussy. Imagining myself stroking him, I imagine myself kissing his cock, licking his cock, and sucking his cock before fucking his cock.

‘God, I’m such a nasty whore,’ I thought whenever sexually thinking about my son.

An endless cycle repeating itself and with me too weak to break the succession, maybe I’m doomed to be an incestuous whore. Maybe had I not had sex with my father, I may not have thought of having sex with my son or even thought of my son in a sexual way. Yet, I did have sex with my father and I do think of my son in a sexual way. Unable to help myself, as if having been bitten by a vampire, I can’t stop my incestuous thoughts. In the way that vampires must have blood, I must have my son’s cock.

I want to feel his prick in my hand. I want to taste his prick in my mouth. I want to feel my son buried deep inside of me while making love to me. Humping me harder and humping me faster, I want to feel him humping me. I need to feel what it’s like for him to fuck me, really fuck me, and pound my pussy until I cum. I dream of swallowing my son’s cum. I dream of him giving me a cum bath. Cumming on my tits, my face, and my hair, if only he would, I’d be so happy.

It would take years of lying on a psychiatrist’s couch innovia escort and thousands of dollars for me to unravel why I had incestuous sex with my father. I don’t know why, I just did. I was horny and his cock was right there, right there by my mouth with the head of his erect prick touching my lips. How could I not suck him? How could I refuse my father a mere blowjob when he had done so very much for me?

Just as it would take me years in group therapy to discover why I had incestuous sex with my father, it would take me years to understand why I want to have incestuous sex with my son. What’s wrong with me? Am I that perversely perverted? Am I that sexually deranged? In the way I was unable to stop sexually thinking of my father, why can’t I stop sexually thinking of my son? Why am I not able to break the cycle of incestuous sex?

I’m a good mother. I really am. I’m a good person. I really am. Only, ever since Daniel developed from a boy to an 18-year-old man, I’ve sexually wanted him. In the way that men want women, celebrities, movie stars, strippers, friends, neighbors, and strangers that they see at the mall, I want my son. I yearn to have sex with my flesh and blood, my own son. How dare I?

In the way that my father introduced me to incestuous sex, I should know better than to introduce my son to incestuous sex. It’s wrong. It’s nasty. Only, seemingly, it’s inevitable that we have incestuous sex. We can help ourselves from doing what was meant to be.

It wasn’t just me; it was my son too. Obviously, in the way that he looked at me, held me, hugged me, and touched me while making his gropes seem accidental and unintentional, I could tell that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Call it intuition, but a mother just knows the wants and needs of her son and he wanted and needed me to intimately, sexually, and incestuously comfort him. Unable to fool me with his words but sometimes with just a furtive look enough to reveal the truth, inherently, a mother always knows the sexual and/or incestuous desires of her son.

Just as I enjoyed seeing the bulge his cock makes in his tight briefs, he enjoyed seeing me in my bra and panties. In the way I loved seeing his naked chest, he loved seeing me topless. In the way that I wanted to see him naked, he wanted to see me naked too. Just as I’d loved to have sex with his naked body, he wanted to have sex with my naked body too. Just as I wanted to stroke him, suck him, and fuck him, he wanted me to stroke him, suck him, and fuck him too. Yet, with neither one of us making the move to cross the incestuous line, we both lived our lives horny and sexually frustrated.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Before Daniel was even born, my incestuous attraction started more than twenty years ago with my father. Even though it takes two to tango, I blame my incestuous thoughts and forbidden sexual behavior more on him than on me. A time after my Mom had died, after graduating college, I was living at home with my Dad. In the way that I’m horny and sexually frustrated now, my father was horny and sexually frustrated then.

Two and three times a day, he masturbated himself. I could hear him. I could smell him after he left the bathroom. It was obvious that he missed my mother in more than an emotional and loving way but in a sexual way too. A good looking man, he could have had sex with a woman, but he never did. Other than to go back and forth to work, he never went out socially.

Then, I wondered what it was he thought about when masturbating. Was he thinking of having sex with my mother or was he thinking of having sex with one of my mother’s sisters? Maybe he thought of having sex with one of the neighbors or one of my mother’s friends. Then, I thought, such a common sexual fantasy for men to have, maybe he masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with his mother, his aunt, or his mother-in-law. It wasn’t until I ran through the entire list of women in my mind that I thought that maybe my Dad masturbated over the thoughts of me naked and having sex with me.

‘Oh, my God,’ I thought.

Incestuously convolutedly, instead of feeling disgusted, the thought that my father may think of me naked and having sex with me, made me horny. Perversely perverted, instead of being offended, I felt sexually aroused. My Dad may want me, really want me but not in a father and daughter loving way but in a father and daughter sexual way. Suddenly, I was so wet with incestuous, sexual desire for my father in the way that I’ve never been for any other man.

Being that my father paid for my college and, before finding a job, paid my bills for me to continue living in his house without working, I sexually fantasized about repaying him sexually with a hand job or a blowjob. I imagined what it felt like to wrap my hand around my father’s cock and stroke him. I wondered what it felt like to take him in my mouth and suck him. I wondered what it felt like to take him in my pussy and fuck him.

It was then that I realized that I wanted to have sex with my father. istanbul escort I wanted to stroke his cock while he felt my tits. I wanted to suck his cock while he fingered my nipples. I wanted to fuck my father while he felt my naked ass. I wanted to feel my father’s prick not only in my hand but also in my mouth and pussy.

It was just a sexual fantasy, of course, nothing more than a sexual fantasy that I had while masturbating myself in my bedroom or when taking a bath. Certainly, I wasn’t serious about having sex with my father but the thoughts of having sex with him excited me enough for me to masturbate myself over it. I wondered if he was masturbating himself over the sexual thoughts of me in the way that I was now masturbating myself over the sexual thoughts of him.

For sure, with gangbangs and circle jerks, I had done worse at college frat parties than to fantasize of having sex with my father. Only, as soon as I thought the thought, thinking myself incestuously perverted, I eradicated the thought. With incest and incestuous sex so nasty, how dare I think such a thought of seeing my father naked, allowing him to see me naked, and having sex with him? Only, in the way that I so wanted him to sexually touch and feel me, I so wanted to sexually touch and feel him.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Only, 21-years-old and not yet working, I couldn’t afford to rent a place of my own. I was grateful for my Dad to take me in and for all that he had already done for me. After having had so very much sex in college and abruptly stopping when I moved back home, I grew just as horny and sexually frustrated as my Dad obviously was after my mother died. In the way that a mother inherently knows her son, my Dad inherently knew his daughter. Being that he knew that I was just as horny and just as sexually frustrated as he was, my Dad took advantage of our living arrangement. He took advantage of the close father and daughter relationship we had by abusing the trust that I had in him.

Whether he flashed me deliberately or unintentionally, I don’t know which. I couldn’t tell. I lost count of how many times I saw my father’s prick. Seemingly, like father like daughter, with me needing a man in my life and him needing a woman in his life, my Dad was just as sexually unsatisfied as I was.

I blamed myself for looking, for staring actually, at my father’s exposed prick and for sexually lusting over my Dad. Instead of asking him to cover himself, I didn’t have a normal reaction to seeing my father’s exposed prick. I wasn’t embarrassed. I wasn’t ashamed. I wasn’t even offended whenever I saw my father’s dick then as I am offended now by my incestuous behavior. Replacing it with inappropriate sexual desire, my sexual arousal negated any other, normal father and daughter emotion that I should have felt. Before having even crossed the incestuous line, prepped and ready to have sex with my Dad, I had already crossed the incestuous line in my mind.

Instead, looking away, every time I saw my father’s cock, I stared. Shame on me only I didn’t feel shame. I felt sexual excitement whenever seeing my father’s prick whether flaccid or erect. Seeing my father’s prick made me horny, horny enough for me to masturbate in my room later than night while thinking of having sex with him. What’s wrong with me to think that and to masturbate myself over my Dad?

I justified my incestuous thoughts, my sexual fantasies, and my inappropriate and forbidden behavior of having sex with my father as nothing more than as my way to thank him by repaying him sexually for his financial help. With my reasoning convoluted, my logic was ludicrous at best. Obviously, I was struggling to come up with a reason for me to stroke, suck, and fuck my father. Obviously, with my horniness unabated and in the way of my commonsense, my sexual frustration erased my incestuous inhibitions and eventually allowed me to have sex with my Dad.

Such an awful thing for a daughter to confess about her father, but every time I saw my father’s cock, I wanted to touch it with my fingertips. I wanted to take it in my hand and fondle it while stroking it. I wanted to stare at it while wanting to see how big I could make my father’s cock with my fingers and with my hand before taking it in my mouth and in my pussy.

Embarrassed by my incestuous wickedness now when I wasn’t then, every time I saw my father’s cock I wanted to move it in between my legs and fuck it. Every time I saw my father’s cock, feeling so sexually deranged, I wanted to take it in my mouth and suck it. If only he showed his sexual attraction to me, I would have sucked him. I would have allowed him to cum in my mouth. I would have swallowed his cum. With me having already grown into being such an incestuous whore without even having had incestuous sex, I would have happily blown him every morning and every night.

Nothing more than a sexual fantasy that I enjoyed having every morning, yet, if only I could have, I would have sucked my father’s prick. If only he had made the first incestuous kadıköy escort move, I would have responded in kind. Only, just as I never made an incestuous move, he never made an incestuous move either. Living together in sexual frustration with one afraid to make a move on the other, we lived together like that for years, with him sexually attracted to me and with me sexually attracted to him.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

“Good morning, Daddy,” I imagined greeting him with a kiss, a deep, wet, French kiss while reaching my hand beneath the covers to feel his morning wood through his underwear. I imagined him feeling my breasts through my nightgown while fingering my nipples and before reaching around me to feel and squeeze my ass. “May I suck you, Daddy?”

I imagined climbing in bed with my father. I imagined taking his cock in my hand while kissing him and while stroking his stiff prick to a bigger and harder erection. Stroking him up and down and up and down faster and harder, I imagined sliding halfway down the bed to fill my mouth with him. I imagined sucking my father while stroking him every morning and him filling my mouth with his cum before he headed off to work.

“Bye Daddy. Have a nice day at work,” I imagined saying and waving to my father while getting myself ready for work too.

Then, later that night, nothing more than a sexual fantasy that I had every night. I imagined walking in his bedroom naked. I imagined ending my day by blowing my father after fucking my father.

“Good night, Daddy. It’s time for you to fuck me and then after I’ll give you your good night blowjob,” I imagined saying to my father while he was already in bed.

I imagined mounting him as if I was a cowgirl riding a bull in a rodeo. With my big tits bouncing up and down and side to side, I imagined jumping up and down on my father while he fucked me. Then, I imagined him turning me over and mounting me to fuck me like a dirty dog instead of his loving daughter. Fucking me harder and fucking me faster, I imagined him giving him an orgasm with his cock before I gave him an orgasm with my mouth.

Sucking him deeper while stroking him faster, I imagined him feeling my big tits and fingering my erect nipples while I stroked him with loving care and incestuous, sexual arousal. With my knees on his bed and with me leaning over him while sucking his cock, I imagined him fingering my wet pussy with one hand and fondling my big tits while fingering my big nipples with his other hand. Continuing to stroke him faster while sucking him deeper, I waited for him to show his appreciation for my blowjob by cumming in my mouth. I so wanted him to cum in my mouth that I could already taste him.

“Cum, Daddy. Cum. Cum in my mouth,” I imagined saying to my Dad while I laid in bed masturbating myself over the thoughts of blowing and swallowing my father.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

At the time, with him in his early eighties now, my Dad was in his late fifties and I was in my early twenties. Just as I didn’t have a steady man in my life then, as I still don’t now, my Dad didn’t have a steady woman in his life either. I’m not sure why but I started returning the flashing favor of my father flashing me his cock but I did. Whenever he flashed me his prick, I flashed him bit and pieces of my underwear clad and/or naked body. Seemingly just as it sexually excited my father to expose his cock to me, it sexually excited me to see my father’s prick. Just as it sexually aroused me to see my father’s naked flaccid or erect cock, it sexually excited me to show him my bra and/or panties, and my naked breasts, ass, and pussy.

Obviously, in the way that my father was an exhibitionist to flash me his cock, for me to flash him my semi-naked and naked body, I was an exhibitionist too. Obviously, in the way that my father was a voyeur to stare at all that I was showing him, I was a voyeur too for me to stare at his exposed prick. Like father like daughter, only flashing one another was just as sexually frustrating as masturbating ourselves in private. In the way he no doubt yearned for, lusted over, and needed my hand, my pussy, and my mouth, I yearned for, lusted over, and needed his hand, his cock, and his mouth too.

There were many times that I was so horny and so sexually frustrated that I would have masturbated my father and allowed him to cum all over my hand and/or tits, and even in my mouth. There were plenty of times where I definitely would have sucked my father and allowed him to cum in my mouth, if he so wanted. There were those times when I came home drunk that if my father came in my room, I would have fucked him. Only, other than for some sexy exhibitionism and voyeurism, nothing ever sexually happened between us.

A sexy, incestuous game we enjoyed playing, whenever my father flashed me his cock, whether unintentionally or deliberately, later that day, I flashed him some part of my underwear clad, semi-naked, or naked body. I always made my flashing appear accidental but over the years that we lived together, just as I saw his flaccid cock and erect cock numerous times, he saw me in my bra and panties, topless, and naked numerous times too. Only, neither one of us acted on what we saw of one another until one night, a week before I was leaving to live in my own apartment, we both crossed the incestuous line.



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