Obsession - Sex Stories

Obsession

... to do to make this happen. A hot flash washed over me as if I’d opened an oven door and I realized that I had to leave. Wow! It was somewhat sobering. I was ashamed of myself for the way I felt. After all, suppose he was to wake up and find that his hard penis was sticking out of his shorts and that his mother was hovering over him. “My God!” I thought. How would I explain something like THAT? I quickly and quietly left the living room and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I lay in bed until well after midnight wrestling with my conscience, trying to get a handle on everything. I knew it was wrong, what I did and the way I was thinking, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Images of my father flashed in my mind. The smell of his cologne and bourbon filled my nostrils. Memories of inappropriate moments made me shiver but oddly enough, made me warm between my legs. I remember thinking how glad I hadn't had anymore to drink and what might have happened had I had a &#034fair well Long Island ice tea&#034. Jimmy {My husband} had been gone for more than two years at that point in time. I tried to convince myself that maybe these thoughts and actions were a product of loneliness and that I was still missing Jimmy, but deep down, the more I thought about it, the more I knew there was more to it. I knew that somewhere along the line I had somehow become obsessed with my son’s penis. At first, I was troubled and embarrassed by the thoughts and images that seemed to work their way into my head. ...

... They seemed to bombard me with more and more frequency. The fact was, I wanted to see my son’s with his dick hard and imagined different scenarios that would get me what I wanted. I reminded myself that such things were forbidden, morally wrong but I also knew for a fact that these kinds of things happened all the time in all walks of life. As time passed, I found that I’d become more tolerant, more comfortable with the things I thought about, even excepting, if not embracing them at times. I found that late at night when I was alone in my bed, that somewhere along the line these forbidden thoughts and images turned into welcomed dreams and yearnings, even fantasies. At first I shamefully tried to suppress the urge but found it useless most times. I told myself that nothing would ever come of such thoughts and desires and wondered if my father had told himself the same thing. Before I knew it, these feelings led to masturbation and to my surprise, some very intense orgasms. I was obsessed. Except for the occasional glance or the fleeting feeling, I pretty much kept my dark fantasies to myself. It was August 19th, Brian’s 17th birthday, as a matter of fact, when all that changed. It was early on a Saturday morning; I had just come in from a run and figured I’d gather up the dirty clothes and do a load of laundry before I took a shower. I approached Brian’s bedroom door with an armload of dirty clothes from my room. I quietly turned the knob and took a step in as quietly as I ...