The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’m such a tease.

I’m such a tease.

God, I’m such a tease.

Normally my son is the sole victim of my teasing. After all, that was all that was happening when I let him fuck me—it’s only teasing.

I love it when my son fucks me.

But really, I do it because I’m such a tease. Sliding my pussy-lips down around my son’s cock, then riding him until I could feel he was ready to pop. I’m such a tease…I’d then pull out, ignoring his groans of protestation.

I’d still let him cum on my face, of course. Or my tits, or in my mouth…I’m not cruel.

I’m a good mother.

But I’m such a tease.

I’d tease him so much…walking around the house naked, or wearing lingerie that highlighted my assets. I’d tease him by leaning down and whispering in his ear while he was eating, telling him how much I look forward to feeling his cock inside me again, how much it turned me on to feel my little man fuck his mother so vigorously.

I love it when my son fucks me.

I’d tease him by wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking it lovingly, feeling it thicken in my hands, then moving my mouth to it, fellating my son until his dick was coated in my saliva.

I’d tease him by getting him so close—right to the edge!—of cumming inside me. I’d tease him with my pussy, clenching around his hardness.

I’d tease him by being so, so wet for him. Just for him. I love it when my son fucks me.

I’d tease him by telling him that the taboo of it is what turned me on. That knowing my own son wanted to fuck his mother got me more juicy than anything else had in my entire life. I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

I’d tell him that I just wanted to ride him until I came, and came, and came again…

I love it when my son fucks me.

But for the past week, I hadn’t let myself.

No matter how turned on I was, I wouldn’t let myself cum. I’d get myself as close as I got Cecil…but unlike with my son, I wouldn’t pull out and get off.

I’d instead bring myself to the edge of orgasm, then back off. Again, and again, and again and again.

God, I’m such a tease.

I’d always had a high sex drive—I’m a wet, horny slut—but let me tell you, self-teasing brought it to the next level.

Not letting myself cum…wow. Normally after sex, I’d be a soggy-but-satisfied mess. I’d still do anything I could to get Cecil off, of course—I love it when my son fucks me, and it’s totally normal if he gets turned on by my body—but it’s not like I was walking around like a cat in heat.

Sex would leave me satisfied. More sex? Sure, I’m always up for that (I’m a hot bitch, and I love it when my son fucks me)…but I didn’t need it, you know?

But after a week of not letting myself cum (especially after the 6-times-a-day routine I’d found myself in before)…

Yeah. I was almost bursting.

“Fuck me,” I’d pant, as soon as Cecil entered a room. “Please…please, fuck Mommy. Mommy needs it. Mommy needs your cock. I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me. Please…”

Sometimes he’d oblige. He’s a good boy, my Cecil. He’d just pull out his cock—if it was hard, I would just bend over whatever nearby surface I could find and guide it between my legs.

If it was soft, I’d use my mouth, my tits…anything I could to get him hard.

And then bend over whatever nearby surface I could find, and guide it between my legs.

God, I love it when my son fucks me. I’m such a tease.

The feeling of Cecil’s cock entering me was like that first bite of a candy bar—so sweet, like it was going to completely satisfy your hunger.

But, like with a candy bar, the feeling didn’t last. I’d get myself right to the edge of orgasm…then pull back. Again and again and again.

I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease.

I’d completely lose myself in the moment, chasing the dragon I could never catch. In a way, it was worse than not being fucked at all—I’d be stimulated, brought to the edge…but wouldn’t let myself cross it.

I’m such a tease.

I’m such a tease.

I’m such a tease.

I’d pull Cecil out, he’d cum somewhere on my body, then go off for a lie-down, leaving me…well, still a soggy mess, I suppose.

But definitely not a satisfied one.

So, you might be asking, why not just stop? Why even start the process if I knew it was going to leave me so absolutely unsatisfied?

The answer’s obvious, really.

I’m such a tease.

Cecil wouldn’t always fuck me, of course. I could have quite happily had his dick inside me twenty-four hours a day (I love it when my son fucks me). That’s impossible, of course…but my son is a healthy male, so he got as close as he could.

But sometimes instead of pulling out his cock and giving me almost everything I wanted, he’d just turn, stare at me through those glasses of his…

And smile.

The feeling I got when Cecil smiled at me…it was as close to an orgasm as I allowed myself to get. My mind would clear, and for a moment—just one sweet moment—I’d be able to ignore the needy ache coming from between my legs.

Then he’d go and sit in a dark room for a while, and the feeling would come back, stronger than before.

I’m such a tease.

This is making it sound like it was taking over my entire life. I won’t pretend I wasn’t spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about it. Thinking about how horny I was, how much I wanted to cum, how delicious it was that I wouldn’t let myself…

I’m such a tease.

But it wasn’t my entire life. I’m a good mother. I was still waking Cecil up with a blowjob, cooking for him, cleaning the house, and spending a lot of time thinking about what I was going to wear that day.

I love showing off my body.

One morning, I was giving my sleepy son some morning head when he grabbed my head—part of me wanted to object to such rough treatment, but my son is a healthy male. He has needs.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

Besides…I was so sex-deprived, I almost came from the feeling of his hand gripping my hair.

As Cecil roughly positioned me, I trembled in anticipation of what was going to come next. He was going to fuck me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

He slid his cock inside me, making my whole body tremble. I didn’t even need to go near my clit; it had been so long since I’d cum, just the feeling of Cecil’s cock was enough to bring me to the edge.

I love it when my son fucks me.

Clenching my vaginal muscles and biting my tongue was enough to prevent the orgasm from overtaking me—I’m such a tease—but when Cecil flipped me over and started fucking me from behind, I felt another one coming.

I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease.

It subsided, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like a corn kernel in a fire, ready to pop at any moment.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let myself.

It’s only teasing.

Cecil normally takes longer to cum in the morning, so I got myself into a comfortable position—something that still showed off my curves.

I love showing off my body.

I love it when my son fucks me.

So I wasn’t expecting to recognize the subtle signals of my son’s impending orgasm, just a few minutes later. Most of my energy had been focused on not letting myself cum, but I’d been getting my son off several times a day for months. I could probably spot the signs while sleeping.

I’m such a cock-tease. I’m a wet, horny slut. I’m a sexy woman.

I love it when my son fucks me.

“Good boy,” I groaned. “Cum for mommy. Mommy wants to feel you cum…”

I couldn’t let him cum inside me, of course, but there’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk. It’s only teasing.

Cecil was looking at me—he’d put his glasses on as soon as he woke up—and my eyebrows shot up as he smiled. In an instant, it was like my entire body was aglow.

Just as suddenly as my son’s smile began, it disappeared. He closed his eyes, and an intense expression came across his face.

I should cum in front of my son more often, I realized. I love cumming in front of my son.

I love it when my son fucks me. I love cumming in front of my son.

I love cumming in front of my son.

I love cumming in front of my son.

My entire body began to shake as a week’s worth of pent-up orgasms hit at once. My eyes rolled back in my head, and my every muscle tensed. As I was hit by the mother of all orgasms, the room went white—for a moment, I thought I was going to pass out.

I couldn’t tell if it was one long climax, or a string of smaller ones…maybe there was no difference. All I knew was that the glow Cecil’s smile had filled me with was spreading, filling my fingers and my toes, my tits and my clit. Every part of my body felt like it was orgasming, and my brain was overloading with sensation.

All the while, Cecil had never stopped fucking me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

I love cumming in front of my son.

My peak had passed, but the after-effects were still sending ripples of pleasure through my brain. I’m always a soggy mess after really good sex. This was really, really, really good sex. I love it when my son fucks me.

And so every part of me was soggy, and no part of me was fully-functioning when I realized…

Cecil was cumming.

My son was cumming inside me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

I did, but that was only teasing. This was…

I love it when my son fucks me.

I loved having Cecil’s cock inside me, but he couldn’t cum inside me. He couldn’t. He…

I love it when my son fucks me.

No!

I love it when my son fucks me.

No!

I tried to pull back, to pull him out, but all my energy had been exerted by the most powerful orgasm I’d ever felt. My limbs felt like spaghetti, and by the time I managed to wrap my hand around Cecil’s cock and pull him out, it was too late.

My son had cum inside me.

Cecil had filled me with his seed.

This wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t just a blowjob. This was…this was sex.

Cecil had just fucked me. I love it when my son fucks me, but…not like this.

This had gone too far. It wasn’t only teasing.

It was incest. It was wrong.