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Summary: Mom finds an unorthodox way to go into labour… her son.

Note 1: This is a Nude Day 2018 Contest Story so please vote.

Note 2: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, Robert, and Wayne for editing.

Pregnant Mommy

Barry had always liked his girls and women to have some meat to them. He preferred big natural tits, even if they sagged a bit, wide asses and some serious curves, not just some anorexic Barbie doll with a pretty face that had seemed to be the popular look back in high school. (He had graduated this spring and would begin college in the fall.)

And although his mom was very beautiful and even someone he jerked off to on occasion, his long-term vague obsession with her took a whole new turn when she became pregnant, a surprise pregnancy, just after he’d turned eighteen.

He didn’t notice anything at first but as the months went by and she began to show, he most certainly did notice the changes in her. Her face radiated, her belly blossomed and her breasts grew, and instead of rarely, Barry began to jerk off at least daily to visions of his beautiful pregnant mother.

Every time he came he would feel guilty for objectifying his mother… knowing she was just going through the course of a natural pregnancy.

He never imagined he would ever get to fuck her, but then other things began to change.

Cathy was eight and a half months pregnant, her husband had been gone on a business trip for a week…again… and she was feeling incredibly horny and incredibly agitated.

Barry, noticing his Mom wasn’t herself today, and hadn’t been for a few days, sat down next to her at the kitchen table and asked, “Are you okay, Mom?”

“I’m fine,” the tired but horny mom sighed

“What’s wrong?” he asked, able to tell she clearly wasn’t fine.

“Oh nothing,” she replied, sitting up straighter from her dejected slump and trying to conceal her frustration a bit better this time.

“Oh, come on Mom,” he said, “I know something is bothering you. Is it something I’ve done?”

“No, honey, it’s not you at all,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, even as her pussy burned with need, “it’s just that your father has been gone a lot recently.” This pregnancy was unlike her first two, which had happened eighteen and twenty years ago. This one was making her constantly horny, as if she were hitting menopause simultaneously with pregnancy.

“Do you need anything?” the caring son asked.

She smiled, stifling a vague wish that he could give her what she needed, “Yes dear, but it’s not something you can help me with.”

He didn’t catch on and urged her, “Tell me Mom, I’ll help any way I can.”

She laughed softly, the idea of her son fucking her popping back into her head for another moment, and in an amused way because one interpretation of his words could mean he was offering to do just that, “I know honey, but this is something you can’t possibly help me with.”

“You sure?” he asked, still oblivious.

“Trust me,” she laughed, although the idea now being presented seemed practical, albeit illegal, as she shook her head at the thought of incest, “there are laws against your helping me with this problem.”

“Ohhhhh!” the son said, his face going beet red as he finally realized she was confessing she was horny and he had just offered to fuck her.

She laughed, admitting, “It’s okay honey, it’s just somehow this pregnancy has really created a lot of mixed emotions and needs inside me.”

“Oh,” he again said, his head still spinning with the realization that his mom was horny and admitting it to him.

“Sorry son, I shouldn’t have told you so much,” she said, feeling guilty for having such a conversation with her eighteen-year-old son, as well as for the ever-so-brief moment of weakness when she’d considered him as a possible solution.

Barry, his cock suddenly stiff in his pants, said, “It’s all right, at least Dad is coming home tomorrow.”

Before she could filter what she was about to say, she bitterly replied, “He won’t do me because he’s worried he’ll hurt the baby.”

Barry shook his head, knowing that was nonsense, as he slyly adjusted his stiff cock which was crowded awkwardly in his pants, “That’s ludicrous.”

Cathy, realizing she was saying way too much to her son even though she agreed with him, noticed her son adjusting himself and wondered if this conversation was getting him aroused. She apologised again, “Sorry honey that was likely way more than you needed to know.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” the son said, thinking about the odd times he’d heard her moans, the walls in the house being paper-thin. He stood up and joked, as he reached down to put his hand on his mom’s belly, “I know you and Dad have sex.”

Cathy, getting undeniably and uncontrollably hornier from the touch of her son, laughed, “Well yes, at least once a year.”

“I’m sure it must be more often than pendik escort that,” Barry said, feeling strange having such a conversation with his mom. Although he didn’t want it to end, he needed to leave soon: his cock was raging and definitely needing attention.

“Well, maybe back when I was twenty-five pounds thinner,” Cathy sighed, feeling completely unattractive in the hideous pregnancy smocks she was stuck wearing and the reality her husband wouldn’t fuck her, insisting instead on blow jobs (which he seemed to enjoy more than sex anyway and which of course didn’t get her off).

Barry, trying to build his mom’s self-esteem, flattered her sincerely, “Mom, you’re beautiful, you always have been. But right now you literally radiate beauty.”

“Oh, Barry,” the flattered mom smiled, really needing a compliment, “That’s sweet. Delusional, but sweet.”

“Mom, I wouldn’t say something like that if it wasn’t true,” he said, pulling his mom to her feet for a hug… his hard dick poking her thigh… something his mother couldn’t help but notice.

His penis is definitely hard, Cathy thought to herself, and that’s because he does think I’m beautiful, now believing him as she felt it briefly flinching against her thigh… the closest a cock had been to her pussy in months.

“Thanks, Barry, I needed that,” she said, feeling warm, secure, loved and yes — beautiful — in the arms of her son.

“Sit back down, I’ll finish the dishes,” he offered, needing to reposition his cock, which was begging for release as he let go of his mom.

Barry adjusted his cock and put the dishes away, knowing what images he would be masturbating to tonight.

Cathy went into the living room and sat down on the couch before turning on Wheel of Fortune. Although she knew it was wrong, she couldn’t help but feel strange longings building inside her towards her son… his cock poking into her thigh had turned her on in ways she couldn’t fathom. He looked like a much younger version of her husband James back when he’d been so much in love with her. She shook her troublesome thoughts off as coming from her pregnant irrational state as she tried to decipher a Wheel puzzle that a few months ago would have been obvious.

Barry finished the dishes and joined his mom for the rest of the show. As the commercials played, he couldn’t help but see his mom as no longer just his mom, but a sexual being with similar wants and needs to his own.

His cock, which had begun to shrink while he did the mundane kitchen tasks, in her proximity immediately grew again, the idea of fucking his beautiful, pregnant mom all he could think about.

As the show continued, Cathy couldn’t help but notice that her son was checking her out… or at least she thought he was… she couldn’t be sure. Yet, just the idea that her son found her attractive was enough to make her wet, her husband having treated her recently like she was about as desirable as a beached whale.

That night both son and mom pleasured themselves to orgasm in their bedrooms… alone… each of them coming while fantasizing about committing the forbidden taboo of incest.

Barry jerked off while fantasizing about sucking his mom’s huge breasts, licking her pussy and giving her the fucking she so obviously needed.

Cathy meanwhile fingered herself, which was far more work and more awkward now that she had a big belly, as she fantasized about her husband actually being willing to fuck her when he came home tomorrow. Yet as her orgasm built, her son was the one who popped into her head. And so close to coming, she allowed the strange erotic phantasm of her son to mount her body and fuck her to orgasm.

Her orgasm reached, she shook her head at the shameful reality of her son having popped into her head. She really, really needed to get laid… her fingers not enough to bring her anywhere near the intense orgasm she was craving.

The next day Barry was obsessed. Whenever he was with his mom he could now see only a sexy pregnant MILF; a woman who desperately needed to get fucked and who wasn’t getting any. His cock got hard every time he saw her.

Conversely, Cathy was still horny and was planning on demanding that her husband fuck her tonight when he got home… and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer!

Barry complimented his mom every chance he got, as well as helping her at every opportunity. He woke up early and made her breakfast, delivering it to her in bed. He wondered if she was naked under her sheets and comforter… in his daydreams she was deliciously so.

She ate up the attention her son was giving her. Finally a man who loved her was demonstrating that love. These days James was gone nearly all the time, and when he finally got home he was tired and distant, showing no compassion or sympathy for his bloated, but sexually charged, forty-three-year-old wife.

This was how she deserved to be treated: fawned over and pampered. She was confident her son was turned on by her, and maltepe escort she desperately needed to know she was turning someone on.

That afternoon when she returned home from a couple of errands and a quick jaunt to work, realtors hardly ever keeping regular hours but almost always on call at the whim of their clients, Barry asked, “Mom, you look exhausted, can I give you a foot massage?”

Cathy’s eyes went as big as if she’d just been asked if she wanted a million dollars. Her feet ached, her back ached, her entire being ached, and a foot massage was a way to make her whole body feel better. She nodded, “I’d love one, honey. Pantyhose and heels were a mistake today.”

Barry’s cock instantly grew as he watched her slip out of her heels and saw her stocking-clad feet, another one of his turn-ons that was his mother’s fault. Being a real estate agent, she wore dresses and pantyhose pretty much every day and thus he’d been obsessed with nylons and nylon-clad feet ever since… well, since forever. The thought of stroking and enjoying the feel of his mom’s nylon-clad feet, of seeing them immediately to hand, a lifelong fantasy, had him instantly ready to erupt. He joked, then wished he hadn’t said anything, “Oh, pantyhose are never a mistake.”

The exhausted Mom laughed, as she slumped down on the couch and put her feet up on her son’s knees, “You know what? You’re just like your father.”

“How?” Barry asked, his fantasy coming true. He placed his hands reverently on her left nylon-clad foot and began slowly massaging.

“He has a nylon fetish,” Cathy revealed without remembering this wasn’t information she needed to be sharing with her son. The reality was she often wore thigh high stockings or garter belt and stockings for her husband. Although not in a while, so maybe she should change into some for tonight when her husband got home… to make him unable to resist her.

Barry replied, feeling a confidence he never did with girls his own age, “Well, you’re likely to blame for mine.”

“How so?” she asked, surprised by her son’s words, but loving to be bathed in compliments.

“I’ve seen you in them almost every day of my life,” he answered.

“You’ve also seen spoons every day of your life,” she quipped back. “do you have a spoon fetish too?”

“Maybe I do,” he shrugged with a chuckle, as he kept rubbing his mom’s silky-clad foot.

“Brat,” she laughed, loving the feeling of having her foot massaged. It was so nice to have someone who was home and looking after her… something her husband should be doing.

After a couple of minutes of chat about his beginning college a couple months from now, Cathy requested, while lifting her right foot to him, “Other foot, please.”

The foot landed directly on her son’s hard cock and he let out a groan.

She moved her foot away quickly, realizing what she’d just done and having felt his arousal.

Barry laughed, even as he secretly became even more turned on, “It’s okay, Mom. Let me massage your other foot.”

“I’m so sorry,” she responded, feeling terrible that she had thoughtlessly bagged her son, yet also feeling guilty she had aroused him… guilty yet flattered.

“It’s okay,” he said, “it’s nowhere near as bad as when I got hit with a dodgeball in the groin last week.”

“You still play that barbarous game?” The mom asked, as she placed her foot carefully on her son’s knee.

“Yep, testosterone-based torture,” Barry responded, “let’s see who can handle their balls better,” as he began massaging his mom’s other foot.

“Well, I’m sorry for stomping on your…” she giggled awkwardly, confused by her odd feelings towards her son… his hard penis unwilling to fade from her mind.

“Just relax, Mom,” Barry said, wanting to continue doing this for as long as possible.

“Okay,” she nodded, closing her eyes and just allowing her son’s hands to make her feet, and in fact the rest of her body too, feel so much better.

For the next few minutes, which flew by for them both, Barry massaged his mom’s foot, ankle, toes and calf. He envisioned exploring further up but wasn’t brazen enough even as his raging hard-on was dying for attention. He wondered idly what a nylon-clad foot job would feel like.

Cathy loved her son’s touch, so tender and soothing. Undeniably his attentions also made her long-neglected cunt wet and she wished both that her husband was there to fuck her, plus that he would actually agree to fuck her if he were there.

Eventually she was getting too revved up so she moved her foot away and said, “Thanks honey, that felt amazing.”

“Anytime,” he responded, trying not to look too eager and also trying not to shift his stiff dick that was poking awkwardly against his pants.

As Cathy stood up, she happened to look down at her son’s crotch and couldn’t help but see the tent. She smiled at the knowledge that she had just turned on a man…even if it was her son.

That night her husband James kartal escort returned home from his trip and Cathy pretty much threw herself at him, even putting on thigh highs for him to both see and, hopefully, to caress. She pulled down his pants and took his dick in her mouth the moment they were in the bedroom together.

After getting it nice and hard, Cathy demanded, “Now it’s time to fuck me, baby.”

“Cathy,” he groaned, enjoying the blow job and not wanting it to end, “You know I’m not comfortable doing that with the baby so close.”

“Maybe you could excite me into labour,” she countered, stroking his cock.

“And that would be too early,” he countered. This hadn’t been an issue during the past two pregnancies, although those were many years ago, their upcoming child number three being a complete accident. But the idea of fucking her and hurting the baby with his cock was a thought he couldn’t get out of his head.

“That’s nonsense and you know it. Just fuck me,” the wife purred, “I need it so bad.”

“I told you,” he said, feeling guilty and yet sticking to his guns. “I can’t.”

She stood up and played the pout card. “Is it because I’m huge and unattractive?”

“No,” he said, knowing he had to tread carefully here. It wasn’t that she had gained weight, he actually liked the bigger tits… no it was simply the psychological piece that he couldn’t get past. “It’s just what I keep telling you.”

“Which is fucking ludicrous!” she snapped, climbing awkwardly out of bed and storming out of the room.

Barry, who was jerking off to reveries of his mother, heard the slam of the door and shook his head. His father had apparently rejected his mom’s needs. Idiot!

That night James slept on the couch and Cathy went to bed stewing about her husband’s refusal.

Then James made a terrible decision that opened the door for what would happen next.

“I have to go to Boston tomorrow,” James announced at supper the following day, fearfully knowing he was incurring the wrath of his pregnant, irrational wife.

“You what?” Cathy shouted. “You just got back!”

“Hamilton is threatening to pull out of the deal so I have to go first thing in the morning,” he explained, before adding, “I’m so sorry.”

“On a Saturday?” Cathy questioned tersely.

“I know, I know,” James nodded, trying to find a way to make this confrontation turn out less than disastrously. “But Hamilton will only deal with me.”

“You’re ditching me again?” Cathy asked, about to cry, finding this unbelievable… although she shouldn’t have…for him work had always come first. Fuck, he had missed the birth of their first child because he’d been stuck at the airport during a storm.

“I know, I can’t help it though,” James replied, hating to see the hurt in his wife’s eyes, but still adamant.

“Yes, you can,” Cathy retorted, standing up, “you’re just choosing not to.”

“I’ll be here for you, Mom,” Barry interrupted, both to sidetrack the awkward dinner argument and also to tease the thought into his mother’s head that maybe, just maybe, even though the odds were miniscule, he might be allowed to step up and do the job his father wasn’t willing to do. He could become the man of the house in every way.

“At least your son knows how to man up,” Cathy shot at her husband before storming out and clambering upstairs.

James followed her, but was locked out of his room.

Barry finished eating and headed out, not wanting to be there for the fireworks that were no doubt about to resume.

When Barry returned home after midnight after playing D & D with a couple of buddies, his dad was again sleeping on the couch.


When Barry woke up the next morning, his father was gone.

Cathy was still furious, feeling betrayed by her husband. He wouldn’t fuck her, he didn’t treat her with the love a man should give to a woman carrying his child, and he kept deserting her.

She had a one o’clock showing, and was way too tired to have to go out. Yet she didn’t have a choice. This was a third showing for the young couple and she sensed an imminent sale.

As she waddled into the kitchen, Barry was making French toast. He smiled, “Hungry?”

“Always,” she said, which was true.

“Sit down, I’ll have it ready for you in two minutes,” he promised, as he went to the fridge and poured her a glass of orange juice.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said, so thankful to have a caring son to look after her.

“I begged off work for the weekend,” Barry said. “So I can be here for whatever you need.” He was being as subtle as humanly possible, yet giving her the hint just in case, an implausible dream lingering in his head.

“That’s so sweet,” she said, as she took a sip.

A moment later, “Actually, could you be a dear and drive me to my showing at one? Driving is becoming such a chore.”

“Sure,” he agreed, taking the French toast off the stove.

“Actually, everything is becoming a chore,” she sighed.

“Well, I’m assigning myself as your personal servant all weekend, mom,” he offered, as he brought the French toast to the table. He then became more brazen as he added, “I am here to satisfy all your needs.”

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