When I flew home for Thanksgiving of 98, and a sexual relationship between my mother and I began, it was understood it was just sex nothing more. Neither my mother or I expected it would lead to us becoming lovers. At the time all this began, my stepfather was nearing the end of his battle with cancer, and although he never caught on to what my mother and I were doing, he did notice how happy she was since I had returned home.

Near the end of my visit before dinner one night, he asked if he could talk to me on my mom’s front patio. I was immediately paranoid he somehow might have seen or heard something, as my mother and I would exchange knowing looks throughout the day, and head downstairs when we needed some intimacy. Fortunately he only wanted to have a one on one discussion about helping my mother when he was gone. He basically told me he had noticed how happy my mother had been since I had returned home to visit, and he wanted me to consider moving home to care for her when he was gone.

Now I knew he didn’t mean for my mother and I to have an incestous affair behind his back, but I couldn’t help but feel like he was giving me his blessing. For the last few days my mother and I would have sex as much as three to six times a day, and it was becoming obvious at this point that it was more than just sex for us. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other when we were alone.

Later that night when my mother snuck downstairs into my bed, she asked me what my stepfather and I had been discussing earlier that evening. When I explained to her what was said, it was then she confessed to me that she would always love me as a son, but she was in love with the man I had become. I returned my mother’s love, and we passionately made love for hours that night.

When it was time for me to go home, my mother begged me to move home with her so we could continue to be together. I assured her I would be back soon after I made arrangements when I got back home but it wasn’t fast enough for her. I wished I could have stayed but I couldn’t so I went home.

When I returned home and checked my answering machine I had many messages from my boss, and my manager about why I hadn’t showed up for work all week. It turns out my boss and manager had plotted to say I hadn’t gave them any notice to go on vacation and they fired me. I was pissed to say the least, but in a way it was a blessing in disguise, for when I called my mother with the news, she told me to move home immediately. Within a week of me leaving, I was back home with my mother, and our love for each other only grew stronger.

By the time my stepfather lost his battle with cancer, my mother and I were completely in love with each other. Even though we acted like mother and son around family and friends, behind closed doors we were ardent lovers. It was rare some part of me wasn’t in, or leaking out of my mother. I eventually moved my things into the spare bedroom upstairs for appearences sake, but I spent nearly every night in my mother’s bed.