There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21.

All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men gets her through her week.

*

Now that she knew that so very many men want to have sex with their mothers, she thought about doing more research on the subject. She thought about doing an official study on the phenomena of mother and son sex in the way that Dr. Sigmund Freud did so long ago. With her having role played with every young man she's bedded while pretending she was their mothers and they were her sons, she wondered how many of the hundreds of young men she bedded actually had sex with their mothers. It's one thing to role play but it's something else entirely to go through with having sex with their mothers.

After they all so willingly demonstrated their eagerness to role play having sex with their mothers, she wouldn't be surprised if a high percentage of men have had some sort of sexual contact with their mothers. Be it just voyeurism and exhibitionism with looking and flashing, and/or kissing and touching, it wouldn't surprise her if men have leaned over the incestuous line without actually taking a step across the line. Even she was surprised by how many young men were emotionally attached enough to their mothers to want to have sex with them and/or to imagine having sex with them while masturbating themselves. Being that she's already done so much in depth sexual research on the subject, no pun intended, it would be interesting to learn more about the phenomena of mother and son sex. Having accidentally stumbled on the issue of mother and son sex as her way to achieve an orgasm, her physical need for sexual pleasure has now become more than that.

She wondered what percentage of mother and sons have had sex and how that percentage equates to other family members having sex, fathers and daughter, brothers and sister, aunts and nephews, uncles and nieces, and first cousins with first cousins. She wondered if it was more the mothers than the sons who initiated the initial sexual contact. She wondered if it was more the sons than the mothers who welcomed the sexual exchange and encouraged the sexual interaction. She wondered if having sex between a mother and her son was a onetime sexual thing or if it continued over weeks, months, and years. Curious to how it started, she was just as curious as to how the incestuous relationship ended or if it still continues. If it did end or was a onetime type of thing, did it end on good terms or bad terms?

With her standing behind a two way mirror to remain anonymously oblivious in her attempt not to skew her study, should she be recognized by one of the participants, she wouldn't want them to know that she was there watching what they'd do. Being that it was a mother and son sexual study, if only for curiosity sake, she wondered how many of the men she's had sex with would happen along to volunteer their time to be part of her paid study. A low budget study as far as most studies go, she wondered if she set up a sheet covered couch and a video camera in her lab with a television playing porn movies, how many mothers and sons would feel comfortable enough in that public setting to touch themselves before touching one another. With her having a dish of condoms and a box of new sex toys readily available on the coffee table in front of them, maybe they'd be bold and horny enough to have sex right there in her lab while she recorded them.

Curious enough to know for her to fund the study, if given this kind of suggested opportunity, she wondered how many mothers and sons would feel horny enough to actually have sex. Even if they didn't go as far as to have sex, by studying their behavior while they were watching a porn movie and perhaps having an open discussion about mother and son sex, she could learn more about the subject. If given the opportunity, she wondered how many mothers and sons, once they were aroused by the porn movie, would actually have sex not only in her lab but also behind their closed, bedroom doors. Perhaps with the video cameras an uncomfortable and unwelcome distraction, with no way to tell, after opening this Pandora's Box, she wondered how many mothers and sons she'd inspire, cajole, and encourage to have sex when she wasn't there watching.

She could have them sign a waiver in advance giving her the right to use her research any way she wanted to use it. With the help of her subject behavioral study data and her incestuous research results, she could write a definitive book on the subject of mother and son sex. She imagined herself becoming world renown, a foremost authority, and incest expert on mother and son sex. She imagined traveling the country and the world lecturing and being invited on talk shows in the way that Dr. Joyce Brothers made a comfortable living doing that. With her even telling the mothers and sons in advance that they were being videotaped, she wondered how many mothers and sons she could tempt to have sex with one another on camera by teasing them with porn movies, sexual aids, and sexual toys. So as to tempt them even more, she could have them complete a brief questionnaire that told her specifically which type of porn videos would sexually excite them and stimulate them enough for them to touch themselves, to feel one another, and/or to have sex with one another.

Now seriously thinking more about doing research on mother and son incest to write a book on the subject, she wondered how many of these men she's had sex with while role playing being their mother have had sex with their mothers. She wondered how many of these young men have seen their mothers topless and even naked. For those who have seen their mothers topless and/or naked, she wondered what they thought about when they did see their mothers semi-nude and/or naked. Were they just curious what their mothers looked like without their clothes or did seeing their mothers naked make them horny enough to masturbate or even try to seduce their mothers? Did seeing their mothers so indisposed make them want to have sex with them? Obviously with mother and son incestuous thoughts of sex and actually with incestuous sex so prevalent, she's surprised that no one has done this type of research study before on mother and son incest.

Concentrating just on mothers and sons sexual relationship in the beginning, if her study was successful, she could do equivalent studies on fathers and daughters, brothers with sisters, aunts with nephews, uncles with nieces, and first cousins with first cousins. If all were given the same opportunity, she wondered which pairing would more likely have sexual contact in her lab, mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, brothers and sisters, aunts and nephews, uncles and nieces, or first cousins with first cousins. Taking Freud's research a step further, she could become a famous celebrity psychiatrist who specialized in incestuous sex. She imagined having movie stars, writers, directors, photographers, athletes, singers, dancers, politicians and all sorts of other celebrities as her clients. In the way that Alex was put in one at the end of Clockwork Orange, she could open a clinic that dealt entirely and exclusively with incest therapy. Adding to her fame with fortune, once her sexual partners from her sordid past stepped forward to dare try to discredit her, she could chalk all of those Saturday night sexual relationships she had with men young enough to be her sons with her doing research.

'Perfect,' she said to herself.

* * * * *

Whether giving them a massage, getting them drunk, drugging them with sleeping pills, and/or ticking, play wrestling on the carpet, or playing Marco Polo in the pool, she wondered how many sons have touched and/or felt their mother's bodies whether fully clothed or naked. Deliberately and/or unintentionally, she wondered how many mothers allowed their sons free access to touch and to feel their bodies. Whether they were fully clothed, topless, or naked, she wondered how many mothers pretended they were drunk, drugged, and/or otherwise so indisposed to allow their sons to touch them and to feel them. On the premise and pretense of receiving a massage from their sons, from tickling them, or from playing in the pool, she wondered what more developed from those innocent touches. Being that it takes two to play and even though they haven't crossed that forbidden line of shame, guilt, and remorse yet, if the opportunity presented itself, she wondered how many mothers would willingly have sex with their sons and how many sons would willingly have sex with their mothers.

She wondered how many sons have peeped on their mothers dressing, undressing, showering, bathing, and/or masturbating. She wondered what sons thought about when seeing their mothers' nearly naked and/or naked bodies. Were they just curious about what their mothers' looked like naked or did seeing their mothers naked and/or imagining their mothers naked make them horny enough to masturbate and/or cross the incestuous line by making a sexual move?

She wondered how many sons have deliberately flashed their mothers their cocks whether flaccid or erect. Upon seeing their sons' prick whether accidental or deliberate, she wondered if mothers stared at their sons exposed pricks or looked away. She wondered how many sons routinely masturbated while thinking about having sex with their mothers. She wondered how many mothers routinely masturbated while thinking about having sex with their sons.

She realized, of course, that it wasn't only sons who wanted to have sex with their mothers. Beginning with up skirts and down blouses, incestuously teasing them while flashing them not only sexually but also seductively, she wondered how many mothers have deliberately flashed their sons their naked bodies and/or topless bodies. She wondered how much intentional flashing and/or sexual and erotic teasing culminated in mother and son sex. Whether opening their bedroom door when they knew they were masturbating and/or changing or opening their bathroom door when they knew they were showering, she wondered how many mothers have purposely gone out of their way to see their sons naked. She wondered how many mothers have peeped on their sons dressing, undressing, showering, bathing, and/or masturbating. She wondered what mothers thought about when seeing their sons' naked bodies. Were they just curious about seeing their sons naked or did seeing their sons naked and/or imagining their sons naked make them horny enough for them to imagine having sex with their sons while masturbating themselves?

Focusing more on mother and son incest than on father and daughter, brother and sister, aunt and nephew, uncle and niece, and first cousin with first cousin, she believe that mother and son incest was more prevalent. Now that she was thinking more about doing a study on mother and son incestuous sex, with so many acts of incest that go unreported, she wondered about the sexy, albeit forbidden games that mothers and sons played behind closed, bedroom doors. Be it voyeurism, exhibitionism, tickling, teasing, massaging, touchy feely, and/or having incestuous sex, she wondered how widespread mother and son incest really was. If the opportunity was right, she wondered how many mothers and sons would actually have incestuous sex instead of just thinking about having incestuous sex while masturbating over the thoughts of having incestuous sex. Seemingly for her to find a handsome young man who was willing to bed an older woman while pretending that he was having sex with his mother, swept beneath the rug, she imagined that mother and son incestuous sex is more widespread than people think.

Hidden in the closet and never discussed in public, embarrassed and/or ashamed, few incest participants and survivors are willing to talk openly about their personal, sexual experiences with incest. What happens behind closed, bedroom doors between a lonely mother and a horny son often goes unreported. Now, if she could shine a spotlight of public attention on such incestuous behavior by conducting her study, she'd like to drag incest out of the closet and bring incestuous sex more in the public eye. By publicizing the forbidden sex, either she'd make it more acceptable by explaining the reason for the incestuous, sexual attraction, or she'd put a stop to it before it even started between a mother and her son.

* * * * *

"Hi," he said coming up from behind her. "I'm Steven."

A lot of men have tried to pick her up and normally, she's not interested but, when she turned to look at him, as if he was an angel, she was taken by him. With his blonde hair and big, blue eyes he was so handsome and oh, so youthfully forbidden. With him surprising her by coming up to her from behind, she didn't even have time to scope him out before he came over to her. Being that he was already now standing there beside her, she wasn't getting a read on him in the way she would have if she had observed his behavior for several minutes from afar. With him not being in his natural habitant with his friends while drinking, laughing, talking, and/or remaining silent, while she watched his behavior, she was a little put off on her game in playing the cougar.

"Hi," she said turning to him. "I'm Susan," she said shaking his hand.

Certainly, he was one of the best looking men she's ever seen. She couldn't help but wonder what he'd look like naked. She couldn't help but wonder if his cock was as beautiful as was his face. Normally, she doesn't think such things about a man but he was pretty.

"May I buy you a drink?"

* * * * *

And this is how it always begins. She knew that it wouldn't be long before they'd be naked and in bed together. She knew that it wouldn't be long before he'd be giving her an orgasm and she'd be leaving him in the way that she's left all of the others.

"Sure," she said giving him a long stare. "I'm old enough to be your mother."

She surprised even herself saying. Why did she say that? She couldn't believe she said that. Maybe she felt guilty rocking the cradle because he looked so illegally young. Something she's never said to any of her young men before, she said to him and she didn't know why she said that. As if holding a mirror up to his face, she called him on his sexual attraction to her as if there was something forbidden and wrong with him wanting to sleep with an older woman.

"I know," he said. "I like that about you. A younger man with an older woman is very sexy to me."

"I'm glad," she said giving him a sexy and seductive smile in that way that only she could.

Obviously so mature for his age, he looked so very young. More than that, he looked at her as if he knew her and she wondered if she had bedded him before. Being that she'd never forget someone who looked like him, a male model with a stripper's body, it was obvious that they had never met and didn't know one another.

"I've never seen you here before."

"I've never been here before," she said.

The reason why he's never seen her before is because she hits a different bar and picks up a different man every Saturday night. In two more years, she'll run out of new bars to hit in Boston and would either have to move to a different city or have to start all over again with the first bar she picked up a man on a Saturday night.

"Someone so stunningly beautiful, I'd recognize you if I saw you here before but for some reason you look so familiar," he said. "Maybe I've seen you in my dreams," he said making his confession sound more like a line. "Maybe we met before in a different life. Maybe you were my mother back then," he said that caused her to look at him with curiosity.

'His mother? Bingo! That was easy,' she thought.

"Funny that you said that because I've been thinking the same thing about you," she said. "Yes, perhaps, I've seen you in my dreams too," she said already playing his game. "Only, I don't think I'd be your mother. If I'd be anything, I'd be your lover," she said with a dirty laugh.

She finished her drink and ended her conversation with him before falling in her practice of scoping out the bar. Then, not wasting any time and seemingly not taking no for an answer, he asked her the question that she normally asks men.

"Do you want to go back to my place? I don't live far from here. We can walk. It's a nice night for a walk," he said. "We can have a drink there."

She looked at him while wondering where it was she saw him before. He looked so young that she wondered how old he was. With him not looking as if he was shaving yet, he looked more like a kid than he did a man.

"Sure," she said leaving the bar with him after not finding anyone else in the bar who interested her anyway. "Why not?"

* * * * *

There was something about him that she liked. Something attracted him to her on a whole different level. Only, having never experienced feelings like this, feelings of love and comfort, she didn't know what it was about him that brought out her motherly urges, feelings that she suppressed when Steven dumped her. He reminded her of someone but who. Actually and oddly enough, with Steven such a handsome man, he reminded her of Steven. Yes, with his blonde hair, big blue eyes, and toned body, he looked like a younger version of Steven.

Maybe because they both shared the same first name is what evoked the similarity but not only did he look how she imagined Steven looking at his young age, wearing the same Polo cologne, he even smelled like Steven. If she was to imagine what Steven looked like as a twenty-something-year-old man, he was it. For the first time, she liked a man enough to not only want to talk to him but also to want to see him again. For the first time, she forgot all about her old Steven while about to have sex with this new Steven.

"If you don't mind me asking," she said looking at him while trying to guess his age. "How old are you?"

If she was to hazard a guess, she'd say that he was twenty-one and not much more than twenty-two. Truly, he looked so young, too young for someone like her to want to bed.

"Nineteen," he said.

He stopped her in her tracks and, waiting for him to start laughing, she stared at him to see if he was joking.

"Nineteen?" Suddenly falling in a defensive mode, she folded her arms across her breasts as if she was a teacher angry with a student. "How did you get served without being carded when the legal drinking age in Massachusetts is twenty-one?"

Not believing that he was only nineteen-years-old, she continued staring at him.

"I have a fake ID," he said smiling and pulling out his ID and showing her.

She slowed her pace before she stopped walking. Having sex with men young enough to be her son was one thing but having sex with a nineteen-year-old teenager would drop her from the cougar category to the pedophile territory.

"It does look a lot like you," she said examining the photo by comparing it to his face.

A sticky situation, she was ready to say her goodbye to him and return to the bar to look for another man but he was so very good looking and he was obviously so very mature for his young age.

"It is me," he said with a laugh. "I glued my picture over someone else's picture and laminated it. It looks real." He stopped walking. "Well, home sweet home. This is it. This is where I live."

She looked from him to the apartment building.

"Well, to be honest, I haven't had sex with a nineteen-year-old since I was nineteen-years-old and I'm not about to start now," said Susan handing him back his ID. "Actually, to be honest, I've never had sex with a nineteen-year-old before. My first sexual experience was with my college professor. I was eighteen-years-old and he was thirty-six," she said with sadness while remembering their first sexual time together.
Suddenly she felt like Jacqueline Bissett in the movie Class when she discovers that the man she's seeing is not only 17-years-old but also is her son's college roommate.

"C'mon, please. Now that you're here at my apartment, why not come inside and have a drink," he said goading her with a gentle elbow to her ribs. "You can pretend that you're my mother and I'm your son," he said making that mother and son reference again but this time with a sly smile.

Stunned, she couldn't believe he said that. That was her line. That was something she always said to the young men she pickup at the bar to entice them to give her better sex. What the Hell was that all about? Did he know something about her that she didn't know about him?

"Your mother?" She was surprised that he said that when she was always the one to introduce role playing in the sexual conversation. "How can you even afford an apartment in Boston? What do you do for a living?"

She followed him through the front door, continued up the elevator, and was inside of his apartment before she could say no to having sex with him.

"I'm a part-time server at a downtown restaurant while attending Northeastern University. I'm full-time college student," he said. "My Dad pays the rent."

Small world. She worked as a server in a downtown restaurant while she paid her way through college.

"I graduated from Northeastern before going to Harvard Grad School."

"Harvard? Wow! You must be wicked smart," he said before looking at her with pleading eyes. "So, will you stay?"

Stay? His question really should have been, will you have sex with me, Mommy? Please?

* * * * *

Obviously with so very many young men who wanted to have sex with an older woman while pretending they were having sex with their mothers, it wasn't much of a challenge for her to get what she sexually wanted whenever she needed it. Only, this young man was already there, ready and willing to have sex with her on the pretense that she was his mother and he was her son. Preferring to have sex once a week on a Saturday night with a different young man to a committed relationship, she preferred having sex this way with no connections, no guilt, no remorse, and with little or no conversation. Unfortunately, she knew that once she allowed any man to call her mom, mother, or mommy that he'd be more talkative. He'd want to fill in all the blanks in their role playing with the details of his own sexual fantasy. Unfortunately, her tradeoff, more incestuous conversation while role playing was the price she paid for him to be more aroused and animated in his love making for him to give her an orgasm.

Hopefully because he was so much younger than all the others and so much more mature than all the others, maybe he was so much different than all the others. With her making a real connection with him, there was something so familiar about him. There was something about him that she really liked, loved actually. With what she was feeling now, she's never felt like this about any young men.

Yikes, with her twenty-two years older than he was, she was more than twice his age. She felt wicked being with him but with her thinking that he was a twenty-something-year-old young man and not a nineteen-year-old teenager, she was okay having sex with him until he told her his real age. When he told her his real age, she could have left but she didn't. With him so very good looking, and with the strong sexual attraction she felt for him, she wanted to have sex with him.

"Other than my real mother and my adopted mother, I'd never dare call any woman mom, mommy, or mother, that is, until I called you that," he said. "I never knew my real mother. My Dad had an affair. I'm his love child," he said pocketing his hands while suddenly appearing uncomfortable with the conversation and with his confession. "His wife, my adopted mother, raised me. She couldn't have children. She's a lot older, sixty-years-old."

"I see," said Susan. "Well that's quite the story but being that you're lying about your age, how do I know you're lying about being a love child. How do I know that you're lying about never knowing your mother as a pretense to sleep with me?"

She thought about the baby she had, Stephen's baby that she gave up for adoption without telling him that she had a baby. She didn't even tell him that she was pregnant. The day she was going to tell him was the day that he broke up with her. She always wondered if he knew she was pregnant. She always wondered if that was why he ended their love affair.

She was going to abort the baby right after he ended their affair but, with her being Catholic, she couldn't. She was going to keep the baby and raise the baby herself as a single mother but with the baby always reminding her of Steven, she couldn't do that either. Adoption was her only other alternative. Hoping to put Steven in her past, she gave his baby away. Only, twenty years later, he still haunts her and now this nineteen-year-old man is a grim reminder to what a huge mistake she made for giving her son, wherever he us, up for adoption.

Her son would be the same age as this young man standing before her now. With him asking her for sex was as if her son was asking her for sex. For the first time, she felt dirty. She felt perverted. She felt that all that she did in role playing the part of a mother having sex with her son was wrong. Now with the shoe on the other foot, in the way that all of the men she's bedded were eager to role play with her as their mother, she wondered if he was actually her son, if she'd so readily give him sex. She wondered if she had a son his age, if she'd find it too offensive to do what she's been doing, having sex with men young enough to be her sons.

"I've always been attracted to my adopted mother," he confessed. "Always trying to see her naked, I was always flashing her my cock," he said. "I've always been attracted to older women and now here you are. Finally, I'll be able to live out my sexual fantasy with you as my mother. Finally, I'll be able to pretend that I'm having sex with my mother."

"I see," said Susan. "Tell me this then," she said thinking more about her possible incest study than she was thinking about having sex with him. "Did you ever get to see your adopted mother naked?"

"Naked? As much as I tried, no. I never saw my adopted mother naked" he said, "but I did see her topless once when I barged in her bedroom while she was changing. She has nice tits for an older woman. The funny thing is that instead of covering herself, she just stood there. Knock the next time, she said," he said.

"So, you never had sex with her then," said Susan "but you always wanted to? Is that it?"

"No I never had sex with her but, yes, I always wanted to have sex with her. Yet, even if she offered me sex, I don't think I could have sex with my mother, even if she was my adopted mother." He paused as if he was thinking about having sex with his adopted mother. "She's pretty, even at her age. I'd do her, I guess, if I was drunk enough and horny enough," he said with a dirty laugh.

"I see," said Susan talking to him as if he was a patient on her couch.

"My dirty, little secret, I must admit that I like calling you Mom while pretending that I'm having sex with my real mother whoever she is and wherever she is, if even she's still alive. If my friends ever knew that I imagined having sex with my mother while having sex with you, they'd think there was something seriously wrong with me. If my friends knew that I wanted my mother in such an incestuous, sexual way, they wouldn't understand. Only, it's different with you. For some reason, maybe with your blonde hair and blue eyes you look much like me but you more look how I imagine my real mother to look," he said.

If only he knew that the chances were good that his friends wanted to have sex with their mother too, wouldn't he be surprised. Maybe with young men knowing such things about one another being so sexually attracted to their mothers, they'd be good candidates for group therapy. Nonetheless his personal, sexual problems, she looked at him in the way that she imagined his mother would look at her son. She looked at him in the way that she imagined looking at her own son. Then, she leaned into him and kissed in the way that no mother would and/or no mother should kiss her son. Immediately, as soon as her tongue probed the inside of his mouth, his horny hands touched, felt, and fondled her big tits through her blouse and bra.

"Don't be surprised if you're friends haven't lusted over their mothers too," she said breaking off her kiss to speak. "Imagining having sex with your mother, believe it or not, is a healthy sexual fantasy," she said. "You'd be surprised how many young man fantasize about having sex with their mothers."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one sexually fantasizing having sex with his mother, adoptive mother or otherwise," he said with a laugh.

"The problem happens when you give into your sexual fantasy and actually have sex with your mother or force your mother to have sex with you. With me not really your mother, what we're doing here, just pretending while role playing, is a much healthier option," she said. "It would take years to unravel the reasons why you had sex with your mother, if you actually did have sex with your mother.

She looked at him as if he was really her son and he looked at her as if she was really his mother.

"Well, being that I don't even know my mother and being that I only know my adoptive mother but still want to sleep with her, would I be as fucked up if I had slept with her?"

"Yes, you would Steven," said Susan with a laugh. "But it's a good thing that you didn't."

"You sound like a psychiatrist," he said with a nervous little laugh.

If only he knew she was a psychiatrist, she wondered what he'd say.

"Psychiatrist? Heaven's no. I'm an English major. I read a lot," she said.

"Wow! Awesome," he said. "That would explain you going to Harvard. You must be wicked smart."

If only he knew she was more wicked than she was smart. If only he knew he was just another young man in a procession of young men. If only he knew that she's had sex with hundreds of men just like him, only he was different. He wasn't like all the other young men that she allowed to have their wicked sexual way with her body. Wanting to stay with him forever, there was just something about him that made her not want to leave.

To be continued...