Mother son incest romance

Incest story, mom and son romance,

Growing up in East Texas in the 1950’s and 60’s wasn’t easy. Dad died in a traffic accident when I was ten. That left Mom and me. She was a Licensed Vocational Nurse, working shift work at the hospital in town. Her pay was low since she wasn’t a Registered Nurse. Dad’s insurance barely paid off the house and covered his funeral expenses. Mom had to be very careful with her money to provide for our needs. She was able to meet the bills, but had very little left over.


Mom married Dad when she was seventeen. I was born when she was eighteen. Her work kept her active, which enabled her to maintain a trim figure. She was a small lady, 5′-2″ weighing 100 pounds soaking wet. She had dark auburn hair and a light complexion thanks to her Irish heritage.

I was small for my age, topping out at 5′-7″ and weighing 145 pounds. I took after Dad, having a medium complexion, brown hair, and hazel eyes, but fell short of his 5′-10″ height. Doing construction work later made me very strong for my size.

Since it was just Mom and I at home, I learned early about doing laundry, cooking, housekeeping, and yard work. During the summers I mowed yards to help with expenses.

Our home was a rather small two-bedroom frame house with one bath. Mom and Dad bought two half-acre adjoining lots and built the house on one of them. The house was utilitarian, with just the basics. We only had a tub with no shower. The toilet was beside the tub, between it and the lavatory. The kitchen and dining area were common and also contained the laundry area.


The summer I turned sixteen I was able to get my driver’s license. This was a big help because I worked for an uncle building houses. He trained me to be a finish carpenter and cabinetmaker. The paychecks were a real help with the household expenses. I was able to start buying tools and begin saving for a used truck.

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Because of working as much as possible it took me an extra year to graduate high school. My working also kept me from attending the school social functions. Interactions with my age group were limited to classroom time. Naturally quiet and shy, I became more so.

Mom and I were not able to spend much time together due to both of us working different hours. She didn’t push me to date much because our conversations were limited and money was so tight. She would occasionally express concerns but I was always able to dodge the issue claiming work. I was so introverted I was unable to carry on a normal conversation with a girl. I was actually afraid to try for fear of looking like an idiot.

Until the summer I turned seventeen, Mom worked evenings or nights because of the shift differential. That summer she changed jobs for a full time day position with weekends off because our financial situation had improved. This gave us more time together.

After she began working the day shift we were able to spend evenings and weekends together. We would try to eat out at a local cafe once per month. We also spent many evenings talking. Most of the conversations were about our jobs and planning small projects like fencing the back yard or painting a room in the house.


I turned eighteen about two weeks before of the end of my junior year. The following summer was good for both of us. I’d saved enough to buy a used ¾ ton crew cab truck from my uncle, Mom made the final payment on her car, and I found a small house to tear down for salvage. I was able to build a laundry room addition on the house and a 24′ by 36′ shop on the adjoining lot Mom owned. Several people had approached me about building cabinets and bookshelves. Having the shop gave me a place to work out of the weather. The additional income also allowed me to insulate our home and install central air conditioning in addition to installing a shower and tile tub surround in the bathroom. That sure made the summers more bearable. We always said the humidity at least equaled the temperature during the summers in East Texas.

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Mom worked with me in the shop occasionally on Saturdays applying stains and finishes to completed projects. The additional income really helped our lifestyle. We were able to go out more often, occasionally take in a movie, and finally begin to save some money. Our talks continued when we would work together. She even began to joke around to try and lighten the tension that would develop from her asking about any girls I knew or dating during some of our conversations

Living as we did, we’d see each other in our underwear. It was not uncommon for one of us to parade through the house from the bathroom to laundry area in our skivvies. Mom always wore utilitarian undergarments, choosing function over style. Occasionally I would see Mom topless briefly, but it was always from a distance, usually across her bedroom.

I knew Mom had B cup breasts from doing our laundry. I could also tell she had a full bush because I could see the shadow of pubic hair through the white cotton panties she always wore. A well-rounded ass was visible from the back. Full, total, live, in living color, frontal nudity was something I had not yet experienced other than looking at magazines the guys would have in their trucks at the jobsites.

Since we were together in the evenings sharing the bathroom became more of a problem. One of us would be bathing and the other would have to answer nature’s call. As a result, I hung a rod and installed a shower curtain to provide some semblance of privacy. The problem was that the only shower curtains available at the time were a heavy translucent vinyl material. An opaque curtain was out of the question because the bath light was wall mounted over the lavatory sink. The small window was located in the wall behind the toilet.

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This led to some food for jerk-off sessions because I could “see” mom through the curtain when she was bathing. Nothing was clearly visible but the hints were there. I have since learned that hints can be much more erotic than full blown in your face nudity. I am sure Mom got the same hints when I was in the tub. The glimpses through the shower curtain were enough to keep interest up.

About a month after I turned eighteen, Mom started to ask about my dating or lack of. She was the only lady, other than my paternal grandmother; I was able to carry on a conversation with. As our talks progressed she quickly discovered just how introverted I was. It was embarrassing for me to admit that I was scared of girls and didn’t know how to talk to them. Anyone not a natural extrovert has probably suffered embarrassment by doing something stupid or has been the butt of embarrassing pranks. Adding shyness really compounded the problem.

Mom was concerned about my shyness and began to try to help me resolve the issue. We began to role-play at home in the evenings. It was embarrassing for me at first until I really realized Mom was a very attractive lady that looked about ten years younger than her age of 36. She looked even younger when carefully made-up. She was also working with me to overcome my reluctance about touching. As part of the role-play she had us holding hands and hugging. I was beginning to enjoy these sessions.

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