That first encounter outside Henry’s bedroom ignited a spark in my son. After that night, there didn’t seem to be a time or place when he didn’t need my help getting off. No matter when it was or what I was doing, if he needed to get off, he wasn’t afraid to make that need known.

For example, one morning I was washing dishes in the sink when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I let out a happy little sigh when I felt his lips on my neck, kissing up and down in a line between my ear and my chin. Before I even felt his hands slipping under my shirt and squeezing my breasts, I knew exactly where things were headed. Sure enough, a minute later I was down on my hands and knees, slurping hungrily on his cock as he groaned in pleasure.

Then there was the time when I was just about to go out the door to hit the gym. Henry was sitting in the living room playing on his phone when I passed through in my sports bra and gym shorts. I hadn’t even finished telling him where I was going before he had me pressed up against the wall, his erection grinding against me as his lips found mine. A few minutes later, I found myself gulping down cum while his cock throbbed in my mouth.

Even being away from home didn’t deter Henry from seeking my help. There was this one evening when we went downtown to see a new exhibit at a museum. Afterwards, we went for a little stroll through the park. Just as we passed by this massive bush, I felt Henry tugging at my hand. I turned my head to find him giving me a look as he gently pulled me off the trail. A minute later, we were behind that bush, and I was pulling down his shorts. I swear I heard someone walking down the trail as I gagged myself on his shaft as quietly as I could.

Initially, I tried to resist his advances, probably more out of a sense of decency than a lack of desire. I pointed out that I was his mother, and we shouldn’t be doing this. We could get in trouble. We could go to jail. We could be ostracized from our friends and family. But every time I tried to reset things to how they used to be, the same thought kept coming back to me.

I should help Henry.

Eventually I realized that I was right, that I should be helping Henry. He didn’t have a girlfriend right now. He needed to get off. Someone ought to help him with his needs, and who better than the woman he’s known longer than anyone else? I should help Henry. There was no other option.

Besides, it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy it, too. Every time Henry kissed me, I got turned on. Every time his hands found my tits, I started getting wet. Every time his cock came into sight, I felt my pussy throbbing as my lust went through the roof. A night didn’t pass where I didn’t end the day masturbating in my room, getting myself off to memories of everything Henry and I had done together. Every time I came—and sometimes it was several times in a night—I found myself fantasizing about Henry and everything we’d done together. After a week of this, I was truly comfortable with our new arrangement.

Of course, as soon as you’re comfortable, things have to change.

One blisteringly hot night, Henry and I decided to go out to get some ice cream. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t help but notice Henry giving me this sort of appraising look the whole time we were at the ice cream parlor. It felt like he had something on his mind, but I couldn’t figure out what. By the time we stepped back through our front door, I had to know what was up.

“Okay, buster,” I said in my most mom-like tone. “What gives?”

“What?” The smile in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Oh, you know what. You were giving me this look the whole time we were out getting ice cream. There’s something on your mind, and I want to know what it is.”

Henry’s grin broadened as he took my hand. “Well, here’s the thing. You’ve been so amazing lately, going down on me pretty much anytime I’ve asked. So I’ve just been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I should repay the favor and, you know, start going down on you.”

I pulled my hand away from his.

“Henry!” I said sternly. “Absolutely not!”

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “What would it hurt?”

“Henry, I am your mother. Sons do not… do that… to their mothers.”

“Why not? You suck my dick several times a day.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s just… different. You’re my son, and as your mother I should help you. It doesn’t work the other way around.”

“But it would help me,” Henry argued after a moment of thought. “I’ve never gone down on a woman before. I need to learn how to do it if I’m ever going to be good at it. Don’t you want to help me learn?”

I should help Henry.

I gave my son a skeptical look. “Really? You’re telling me that getting me off would help you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, slipping behind me and wrapping his arms around me. I swallowed hard. Henry leaned in close, bringing his lips to my ear. “You know you’d love to help me,” he whispered in a voice that made my knees weak.

I should help Henry.

“I just… I don’t know,” I groaned as his hands made their way up to my tits. “I’m, oh, I’m your mother.”

“Come on, Mom,” he whispered, giving my earlobe a little kiss as he gently kneaded my breasts. “Help me out here. Let me eat your pussy.”

I should help Henry.

“Oh, God, Henry. I…”

I should help Henry.

“I need to go shower,” I finally said, slipping out of his grip. “Just… just meet me in my bedroom in fifteen minutes, and we’ll see, okay?”

Henry grinned brightly.

Almost exactly fifteen minutes later to the second, the door to my bedroom creaked open. I watched as Henry stepped into the dark room, his eyes scanning the room until he met mine. He flashed me a broad smile as I lay there in my bed, my naked body covered by a bedsheet. Without saying a word, Henry closed the door, then reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he reached for his shorts, tugging them down.

“It will help more if I’m naked, too,” he replied matter-of-factly as his cock sprang into view.

I should help Henry.

I didn’t say another word to Henry as his naked form stepped up to the bed. He reached for the bedsheet, pulling it back slowly, revealing my naked body to the cool air of the bedroom. Once the sheet was pulled back, he climbed into bed next to me, and almost immediately his lips found mine.

In an instant, we were making out passionately, our tongues dancing as we explored each other’s bodies. My hands ran over Henry’s toned abs. His fingers traced my breasts. I let out a little moan as one of Henry’s hands slid down to my freshly shaven pussy, gently rubbing my slit. It was at that moment when I realized something. For all the times I’d seen Henry naked and all the times he’d seen me topless, this was the first time Henry and I had been totally naked together.

Before I could really give that thought much focus, Henry shifted. His lips broke away from mine, moving lower and lower on my body. He kissed my neck, then my upper chest, then spent a few seconds kissing and nibbling my breasts. Soon he was back on the move, kissing lower and lower down my torso, gradually getting closer and closer to my increasingly wet pussy. Finally, I felt his hot breath on my pussy. I let out a little whimper in anticipation of what I knew was next.

A heartbeat later, I let out a long, low moan as I felt Henry’s tongue pressing against my slit. He gave me a slow, deliberate lick, running all the way from the bottom of my pussy lips to the tip of my clit. Then another. And another. As soon as he would finish licking his way up the length of my pussy, he went back and started again. Each lick was uniquely exquisite. Sometimes he would part my folds with his tongue. Other times he would flick my clit with his tongue. For someone who claimed he’d never done this before, he seemed to know exactly how to press all the right buttons.

As his tongue continued driving me wild, his hands roamed my body, running all over my torso before making their way to my breasts. Soon, he was squeezing my tits and rubbing my nipples as his tongue lapped hungrily at my wetness. I was in paradise, moaning and groaning, whimpering his name again and again as he drove me closer and closer to the brink.

“Oh, God. Oh, yes,” I moaned as his tongue started flicking at my clit. “That’s good. Don’t stop. Oh, I’m about to come. Oh, yes, oh, God! I’m coming!”

My body started convulsing and shuddering as an orgasm ripped through my body. I let out a loud moan as jolts of pleasure racked my body. My pussy gushed, soaking the towel I’d laid out before climbing into bed. Henry continued eating me out, letting out little groans as I bucked against his face.

When my orgasm started to subside, Henry shifted, climbing up alongside me, smiling into my eyes. I leaned in, pressing against his lips in a scorching hot kiss. I could taste myself on his lips, which only made the experience hotter as we moaned into each other’s mouths, our tongues dueling. Our hands roamed all over each other’s bodies, and even though I’d just had an explosive orgasm, I found myself getting more and more turned on.

Everything about the experience was so sensual, so sexy, that it seemed perfectly natural when Henry moved on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him, running my fingers through his hair while his hands did the same. It wasn’t really until I felt his cock rubbing up and down along my drenched slit that I realized where things were leading.

“W…wait,” I whimpered between kisses. “What are you doing?”

“I’m, hmmm, I’m going to fuck you,” he replied in a deep tone as he continued running his cock up and down my wetness while we made out.

My eyes went wide. “No,” I said, breaking off our kiss and looking him in the eyes. “You can’t do that,” I insisted, despite a growing desire to let him just take me.

“Why not? Don’t you want to help me?”

I should help Henry.

“Of course I do,” I pleaded, “but I’m your mother. Henry, if we have sex, that’s incest. We can’t do that.”

I should help Henry.

“It’s okay, Mom. It will help me come, and you know you’d love it.”

I should help Henry.

“Even if I would,” I shuddered, feeling the tip of his cock rubbing against my clit, “we just can’t, Henry. Please, just get off of me.”

“Please, Mom? Can’t I please fuck you, just once?”

I should help Henry.

“No,” I stated in the most resolute voice I could, even as my body screamed for more. “Please, just stop.”

A sort of hurt look came into Henry’s eyes as he rolled off me. At that moment, my heart was absolutely breaking. I knew what I’d done. I’d hurt Henry. I should help Henry, and here I was, doing the exact opposite. As Henry slipped back into his clothes and wordlessly left my room, tears started rolling down my cheek. We couldn’t have sex. We just couldn’t. It would be a line too far. At the same time, I knew, deep down, that if I wanted to help Henry—and I mean if I truly wanted to help him—that was the only way.

Things were awkward between Henry and me over the next few days. He hardly spoke a word to me as we went through our routines. Every time we passed in the hall, he would just look at me with these sad eyes, and I could feel a pain in my heart as my mind repeated that all-too-familiar reminder.

I should help Henry.

Again and again, I found that thought echoing as I went through my day. Whether I was making breakfast, vacuuming the carpet, or running to the grocery store, I could hear it, repeating like a broken record.

I should help Henry.

What really bothered me was the pain I could see in Henry’s eyes. He looked truly dejected, and I could understand why. I mean, imagine that you’ve done nearly every act of foreplay imaginable with a sexy woman you’re attracted to, and as soon as you try to initiate sex, they shut you down. How hurtful would that be?

I should help Henry.

Even though I had to make it clear that sex was off the table, I still did everything else in my power to try and get Henry to smile. I started wearing the sexiest lingerie I owned. I would randomly pull him in for a deep kiss. Sometimes I’d just drop to my knees in front of him, spewing out all the filthy ways I wanted to get him off as I fished his cock out so I could suck him off. Sometimes I’d swallow his load. Other times I’d let him plaster my face and tits with his cum. Once, I pulled down my g-string and let him blast cum all over my pussy. Every time, though, he’d just give me that sad look. I knew he wanted more. I knew he wanted to bury himself inside of me, to pump me full of his seed. I knew he wanted to fuck me. I knew I should help Henry. But I just couldn’t do that. It was just too wrong.

Then everything changed.

One afternoon, I was sitting at my computer, paying some bills. Henry had slipped off to his room to rest, and the house was quiet. As I finished submitting the last payment, a thought popped into my mind.

I could help Henry.

I scrunched my brow. I knew I should help Henry, but I couldn’t, could I?

With the bills paid, I rose from the computer and started on some of my other chores. Within a few minutes, I was busy cleaning the kitchen when I got the idea again.

I could help Henry.

Could I help him, though? Like that? I didn’t think so. Shaking off the thought, I finished in the kitchen and moved to the living room. As I rearranged the pillows on the sofa, a memory popped into my mind. It was that day, not long after the hospital stay, when Henry and I were watching a movie together and he asked me for a handjob for the very first time.

I could help Henry.

I could help him out then, I thought. Sure, it took me a few days, but I was able to do it. More than that, I eventually came around to enjoying it and even looking forward to it. As that memory faded, another one took its place. This time it was a memory of that night when Henry first asked to make out with me while we were watching that steamy romance film.

I could help Henry.

I was able to help him out that time, too, I recalled. And it was so amazing. After that, making out with Henry became one of my all-time favorite activities. His little groans, the way he sometimes nibbled my lower lip, his hands wrapped around me. Fuck, it was all so sensual.

I could help Henry.

I sank down onto the sofa, feeling more and more turned on as memories of my encounters with Henry flooded my mind. There was the night I climbed on top of Henry, grinding against him before I dropped down in front of him, swallowing his length.

I could help Henry.

Pulling my panties aside, I spread my legs and started stroking myself as I remembered the night we went out to eat, and Henry and I snuck off to the men’s room so I could swallow his load before dessert.

I could help Henry.

Then there was the day when I went naked all day, challenging myself to get Henry off as many times as I could. Fuck, that was fun.

I could help Henry.

Memory after memory played, making me wetter and wetter as I continued playing with myself on the sofa. Before long, I was on the brink of orgasm as each memory fueled my lust. Just as I was about to come, one last memory popped into my mind. It was the night Henry ate me out. Fuck, his lips felt so good on my pussy. My legs started to shake as I remembered how hard I came on his face that night. I let out a moan, feeling my orgasm erupt. I thrashed on the sofa, crying out not only from the pleasure of the moment but also from the memory of how much pleasure Henry gave me that night.

I could help Henry.

As I came down from my orgasm, a smile crept onto my lips as I put the pieces together. I knew what Henry needed. I knew what would help him. More than that, I knew what I could do about it.

I could help Henry.

Rising from the sofa, I slipped off my panties and dropped them to the floor.

I could help Henry.

Strutting down the hallway, I reached behind my back, unclasping my bra and tossing it behind me.

I could help Henry.

An instant later, I was turning the knob on his door, swinging it open. As I did, I caught sight of Henry on his bed, naked and smiling as though he’d been waiting for me. My eyes flicked down to his big, hard cock.

I could help Henry.

Without a word, I entered his room, strutted to his bed, and climbed in next to him. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes.

“Is this for me?” I whispered sensually.

“Only if you want to help,” Henry replied.

I could help Henry.

I licked my lips, shifting my weight and moving to straddle my son. With my hand still wrapped around his shaft, I rubbed his tip up and down my slit, getting it wet with my juices. Henry let out a low groan.

I could help Henry.

I guided him to my entrance, pushing the tip between my folds.

“This is a one-time thing,” I lied, knowing full well that I’d never be able to quit once we started.

Shifting my hips, I pushed him deeper inside me, taking him inch by tantalizing inch. I’d never felt so turned on in my life as my son filled me, stretching my walls as I took him deeper and deeper. Soon his cock had completely disappeared, totally engulfed by my tight, wet pussy.

My eyes fluttered shut as I drew back, letting his slip partway out before plunging myself back down on him. It was better than I’d imagined. I felt so full, so fulfilled. I plunged down on my son again, taking him inside me once more. Over and over, I drove myself against him, groaning and whimpering every time he filled me up. I felt his hands grabbing my tits, driving me wild with lust. Soon we were moving as one, fucking against each other. Henry rocked his hips against me, driving each thrust deeper. Our moans of pleasure echoed through the house as the smell of sex permeated the air. I’d had sex many times over the years, but never had it felt so perfect. Never had it felt so right as it did right now, with my own son.

Soon, I found my orgasm beginning to build. I could tell Henry was close, too.

“Come on,” I groaned. “Come for me. Fucking come for Mommy.”

Henry grunted, his thrusting becoming more and more erratic. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to come!”

I slammed myself against him as hard as I could, my pussy spasming as I felt my orgasm releasing through my body. At the same time, I could feel Henry’s cock twitch, and an instant later I felt his seed shooting deep inside me. I cried out, collapsing on top of my son as he filled me with burst after burst of cum. Our lips met, and our tongues battled fiercely as we simultaneously experienced the best orgasms of our lives. I groaned into his mouth. He moaned into mine. Our bodies glistened with sweat as we clung to one another, writhing in the carnal pleasure of our erotic coupling.

A few minutes later, as we lay there in the afterglow of our first fuck, I looked into my son’s eyes and smiled. Smiling back, he gave me another deep kiss before gently pushing me onto my back. As he climbed on top of me and lined himself up at my entrance once more, I let out a happy little sigh. I didn’t know what our future held, but I knew I was happy. I was right where I wanted to be, with the only person who mattered, doing the only thing that mattered. I was there, helping Henry.