Yo. Kinda wrote this or whatever. Hopefully you like it. If so, I take commissions. I cater to all kinks and preferences. I have no limits whatsoever. Suggest whatever you want. Enjoy.
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“Ok, that should be everything, right?” mom questions dropping off the last box,
“Yup,” I answer back as I put down my box, cracking my back afterwards, “Thanks again for helping me move, mom. You’re amazing.”
“Well, what kind of a mother bird would I be if I didn’t help my baby bird soar? Not a very good one.”
“Ha-ha, I guess you have a point there.”
“I always have a point, Taylor. You know this. Now, are you sure you don’t need any help with putting your stuff away? Because, I assure you, I have no issue with helping.”
“Mom, I already told you, what you’ve done is plenty. I’ve got this. Don’t worry your head about it, ok? Plus, I already have a system I have planned. You don’t know where everything will be put, relocated seven different times, thrown randomly out of frustration for not having a clue to where to put them, to finally being settled where it’ll be forgotten until auction time at garage sales.”
Mom snickers at my remark. I can’t even join in because I’m just too impressed with myself. All of that was just off the top of my head. I love my brain.
“Well, I wouldn’t wanna impose on your significant portion of your ten year plan,” she responds sarcastically,
“Hardy har-har,” I respond, “Laugh it up until you’re in line for one of my stuff and get rejected. Remember this day when that happens.”
“Dreading it right now. Well, you don’t need mommy holding your hand anymore. I’ll just get out of your hair. Remember to call in exactly twenty minutes. That’s when I get home. Alright, love you.”
“Wait, mom!” I interject, stopping her in her tracks, “Moving my stuff here wasn’t exactly a trip to the store. I can see how exhausted you are. Why not take a load off here? I’ll get us some refreshments and we can just hang out for the night.”
“Aw,” she retorts, “Is this your way of telling me you don’t want me to go yet? Oh, it’s like preschool all over again.”
“Hilarious. Now, sit. Your feet have gotta be killing you.”
She complies, sitting on the sofa, as I go to my kitchen for a couple of bottles of soda. I return to the living room, handing her a bottle before sitting down right beside her.
“So,” I start, cracking open my bottle, “This is finally it. After just twenty-two years, I’m finally out on my own.”
“I know,” she responds after taking a sip, “It feels like just yesterday I was teaching you how to walk. And look at you now: good career, good house, it’s just crazy to put into perspective and think about. I’m so proud of you.”
Nothing can compare to those five words. Especially from a parent.
“Thanks mom,” I reply, “But I can’t take all the credit. I mean, none of it would’ve happened if I was never born. You’re literally the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
She embraces me in a hug as we exchange “I love you”s. I really do love my mom. She’s the best. She’s always there when I need her, whether it be for venting about boys, picking me up when I get ditched by shitty “friends”, asserting and encouraging me to push towards what I wanted, all while she was all alone. Dad died before I could even talk and everyone else bailed at any chance they got. I was all she had and she was all I had.
I’ve always found it unfair, though. While it is her duty as a parent, she’s never gotten a proper break from it all. Work and the government telling her to provide would always rear their ugly heads. She’s never had a real vacation. I don’t even think she’s experienced a proper weekend. She was always doing something. Plus, now she’s gonna have to go back to living alone after helping me carry these heavy boxes. I think it’s about time we changed that. Time for you to finally relax, mom.
“You know, mom,” I start, “I know a guy who’s in the reflexology business and he actually showed me a few things.”
She narrows her eyes, making me realize the mistake of my phrasing.
“Wait, no!” I reiterate “That came out wrong. He wasn’t performing on me. It was all dummy. Anyway, all he taught me was how to give a good foot massage. So, if you’re interested, I can implement my learnings.”
“What do I keep telling you?” she responds before taking another sip,
“I know, I know,” I answer, “‘Those who get massages are just pampered losers who don’t know what it is to truly work.’ And, while that argument was daunting, I finally have a counterpoint to end it once and for all: limited experience.”
“Taylor.”
“Look, just give it a chance. Just a few minutes and this is never brought up again if you don’t like it.”
She ponders for a moment. Come on. Pleeeease.
“I don’t know,” she retorts,
“Mom, please,” I plead, “I just wanna take care of you. You’ve done so much for me already. Just let me thank you in the best way I can.”
I then give her a pout, knowing she can’t say no to her little girl forever. And I’m right. She sighs again and says,
“Three minutes. No more, no less.”
Yes! Phase one of my plan is complete. Now for phase two. Which can’t be too hard. Three minutes is plenty of time. Plus, she’s pretty worn out from today. This’ll be a piece of cake.
“Thanks, mommy,” I reply in excitement before pecking her on her cheek. She smiles back before I immediately kneel in front of her, taking off her shoes and socks. I then take a second to look at her feet. They’re so tiny it’s adorable. They’re almost the size of a baby’s. But that’s enough ogling. Time is of the essence. I grab her left foot, working my magic. I look to see her reaction. It’s clear she likes it, but doesn’t wanna admit it. Fine. I add more pressure, earning a sigh of bliss. Gotcha. She takes a glance at me and sees my smug face.
“Shut up,” she says, turning her head away, “It’s only because you’re good at anything you do.”
“Thanks, mom,” I respond, flattered, “Only the beast for you.”
I continue my actions, forming my rhythm and balancing my pressure. The more I go, the more proud I’m feeling of myself. If only I could perform something like this on myself. That’d really be something.
A while passes of massaging mom’s feet. I got too entangled with it, I lost track of time. I snap back into reality when I hear a faint snore. I look up to see that mom’s out cold. Perfect. She must’ve been even more exhausted than I though. But I need to make sure she’s truly out of it.
“Mom,” I whisper. Nothing. I try again, louder. Still no response. Yes! Finally, my plan’s coming to fruition. And it only took a little over three years. Now it’s happening. Not only thanking her for all she’s done for me, but alleviating some of the weight on her shoulders. Let me take the stress away, mommy.
I grab the hem of her blue leggings, gently pulling them down, thanking my lucky stars that she’s such a heavy sleeper. I will forever be grateful for accidentally tripping over and falling on her while she slept without so much as a twitch from her. But to this day I still feel bad, so she can also consider this an apology for it.
Once the leggings are completely off, I move onto her green and pink striped panties, gently maneuvering them from around her waist, pulling them from her rear, down her legs, and through her feet. I then bring the garments to my nose, deeply inhaling the scent of my mommy’s delectable pussy. The smell alone is so intoxicating that it’s starting to turn me on. I can’t wait to taste her.
Eventually, I place down her panties. I can’t dwell on them too much. Time’s ticking. I carefully place both on my hands on her legs, spreading them open before leaning in between them. I then take a whiff of her pussy, which is much more enticing than her panties. After a few more sniffs of the source of my very existence, I stick my tongue out, giving it a light lick. Of all the things I’ve ever tasted in my lifetime, ranging from food, drinks, even my ex boyfriend’s dick, not one thing can compare to the taste of mom’s pussy. I love it so much.
I lick it more and more, trying to contain myself. But the more I taste it, the less possible it seems to be. I can’t get enough of it. Eventually, I decide to be a bit risky. I slide my tongue inside of her. I hear a faint moan as she slightly shifts, stopping me in my tracks. Fuckstayasleepfuckstayasleepfuckstayasleepfuck please stay asleep.
She settles and goes back to snoring. Fuck, that was close. I give a few more minutes just to be sure. I don’t wanna risk too much. When I’m certain she’s fully asleep, I continue, moving my tongue inside of her as I suck on her lower lips.
A few minutes of me doing this pass and I notice something start to emerge from her. And it ,ales her taste even better than before. Is she…getting…aroused? Am I making mommy excited? I am. I guess that’s a sign that I’m doing a good job. If only she were awake for this. She’s enjoy it ten times more. Not only from the sensation, but she’d be so proud of me. I’d hear her praises for how well I’m doing, her sweet moans, she’d even push me deeper into her to make her feel even better. I want you to see how much I care about you. I want you to watch me as I please you. Watch me. Moan for me. Praise me. Cum for me.
I feel my worries of waking her dwindling with every second. What’s the big deal? She’s gotta be sexually frustrated and I’m fixing her problem. And when that’s released, she’s gonna be more relaxed. Science says so. She can’t be too upset with me for that. Right? It’s only because I love her. She’d understand.
I remove my tongue from her entrance and replace it with two of my fingers as I suck on her clit. I hear her breathing start to quicken. This time I don’t stop. Clearly, she feels good. Why would I stop it? That’d be selfish. And you didn’t raise me like that, did you? No, you didn’t. You raised me to be a considerate woman and that’s what I aspire to be.
I speed up my movements, causing a louder moan from before. Again, I don’t stop. I want her to feel as good as she possibly can. And judging by how wet my fingers are getting, I’d say she’s feeling pretty damn good. Such a naught mommy. Getting off from your little girl fucking you with her fingers. But it feels too good, doesn’t it. Tell me how good I’m doing. Tell your baby girl how good she is at licking your pussy. I start sucking harder, earning even louder moans. It’s music to my ears. I want more. I need more. I thrust my fingers harder and faster. I push my face deeper into her center. I even start moaning to further her pleasure even more. With every action, there’s a louder moan. Yes, mommy. Moan louder. I then take my free hand and snake it under her shirt, grabbing a hold of her right c cup breast.
I look up at her to see her head leaned back and her back arched, but her eyes still closed shut. No. I want you to have the full experience. You need it. It does no good for you to have part of the fun. I remove my mouth from her clit, slithering my way up her body, maintaining the movement of my fingers. I stop at her face, admiring her luscious lips. I lick my own lips before closing my eyes and pressing them against hers, giving her a passionate kiss. I grab her head, pushing her deeper into it.
I crack my eyes open to see if that did the trick. Eventually, I see her eyes beginning to open as well. Once she fully opens them, the situation unfolds before her and as expected she pulls away from the kiss.
“Taylor?!” she exclaims, “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Shhhh,” I respond, putting my fingers to her lips, “Just enjoy it, mommy. Just enjoy it.”
“Taylor, stop! This is wro-oooaaggnn!”
I speed up my fingers even more, cutting off her statement.
“See?” I respond, “It feels nice, right? I want you to relax, mommy. Let me help you. Let me take care of you. Let me please you.”
She still seems unsure. I give her one more kiss before going back down, latching back onto her lower lips, sucking as hard as I could, causing her to moan again.
“That’s right,” I say between kisses, “You like that, don’t you? Just think of this as a reward for working oh so hard. Let me show my appreciation for all you do.”
And that’s all it took. There’s no more resisting, no more questioning, she’s not even looking repulsed anymore. Confused is a different story, but that should change soon. I start sucking on her clit again and she starts moaning like she was in her sleep. I soon feel her hand on the back of my head, pushing me into her. This is exactly what I wanted. Now she’s at peace. She finally gets to enjoy herself. And it’s because of me. I’m making her happy. Now she can be at her happiest.
I feel her inner walls start to close in. Is she gonna cum? Am I gonna make mommy cum? Yes! I remove my face from her pussy, moving to her face, locking eye contact as she continues moaning before saying,
“Yeah. Give me your cum, mommy. Let me make you proud. Please cum for me, mommy. Cum all over my fingers. Let me taste how good mommy’s cum is. That’s it. Yes. Let it out.”
After a few more moments, she embraces me before letting out one last loud moan and coating my fingers with her fluids. She then slumps back on the sofa, completely breathless. I giggle at her position before sliding my fingers out of her and bringing them to my mouth, causing her pussy to bump to second place of favorite thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. I then go down one last time to taste more of it, savoring every drop. She then brings me back up and pulls me in for a kiss, tasting herself. This is the greatest day of my life. I’ve never seen her this satisfied. She looks so much better like this. I don’t want anything to take it away.
We break the kiss, staring at each other. She’s so beautiful. Dad certainly had phenomenal taste in women. I could stare at her until I die.
“Thank you so much,” she says, breaking the silence, “You really know how to make a mom happy.”
“You’re welcome,” I respond, “I just wanted to reward you since no one else would. Plus, I kinda tripped on you once and wanted to say sorry.”
She giggles before embracing me in a hug.
“Apology accepted,” she retorts, “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” I say back. This is incredible. It went infinitely better than I thought it would. Now she has an outlet whenever she’s angry, stressed, tired, or anything of the sort. I’m more than willing to be your little play thing. Just say the word and I’ll be there to make the problems disappear.
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And there you have it. Like I said, if you liked it and want a story of your own, message me and I’ll happily commission you one. You won’t regret it.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/wl6zh4/payback_ff_incest_a_bit_of_massage_somnophilia