My Son’s Migraines (Ch 5 & Epilogue)

This story is a work of fantasy. None of it is true. Don’t use it for inspiration. Don’t hurt people you love.

[Read previous chapters before proceeding]

Chapter 1: sexstories.com/story/104332/ (4100 words)

Chapter 2: sexstories.com/story/104363/ (1650 words)

Chapter 3: sexstories.com/story/104365/ (2300 words)

Chapter 4: sexstories.com/story/104377/ (3500 words)

Chapter 5/Epilogue is 2000 words

[AUTHORS NOTE: I hope you enjoyed these chapters. If you did, give them a POSITIVE RATING at the bottom. It helps others find them.

This was my first attempt at fiction and sex stories. I’ve been reading on this site for probably 10 years. The muse struck me and all this poured out. It’s been fun to contribute and see the positive response. If you made it to the end, leave a comment. What was the best part? What should I write next? =:) FLB]

—————————————–

Alex and I went on like this for another six months. I had never been more sexually satisfied. I sucked and fucked him in ways I never thought imaginable.

Over time I started feeling guilty that Alex wasn’t getting the full value of our new relationship. It took a while to come up with a plan, but eventually I did. The key to it was this: he had to think it was his idea. I didn’t want to make him fuck his mother, I wanted him to want to fuck his mother.

The easiest thing was so keep whispering in his ear as I fucked him during his migraines. I fed his subconscious a steady stream of lustful, incestuous thoughts. I also started wearing the lightest touch of perfume when he had a migraine. The relationship between memory and the sense of smell is powerful. I wanted his mind to associate my scent with orgasmic release.

To encourage his conscious mind I began wearing more revealing clothes and finding ways to “accidentally” flash him. I hugged him more sensuously and steered his hand under my robes and on my skin. I also started inviting him to my bed more often just to watch TV or talk, then to sleep. Slowly but surely it worked.

At night I started wearing short, loose sleep dresses that would give him unfettered access to my body while still technically being clothing. I loved his eyes on me as I walked from the bathroom to the bed, the shirt hanging off one shoulder and my breasts swinging. As time went on I’d wake to him spooning me, his hand on my hip or stomach. I’d move it to my pussy or breast, then feign sleep. His body naturally adapted and began doing this on its own. I loved waking to his touch, but he never pushed it further. I knew I just needed to be patient.

I awoke one morning with his hard cock grinding softly between my naked ass cheeks. Only the thin fabric of his underwear separated us. His arm had slipped under my dress and was softly kneading my breast. I knew this was the day we would start out new life. I arched my back, increasing pressure on him and giving him the instinctual cue of my acceptance.