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Warning: The Pretend Game is just a game of pretend. DO NOT PLAY THE PRETEND GAME AT HOME without professional supervision.
No characters in this story are underage. Mother is 49-years-old and her son is 28-years-old
Not really incestuously sexual, it wasn’t as if mother and son were really having sex. Playing The Pretend Game is only a game of pretend after all.
Beyond all reason, she couldn’t believe that her son was going to suspend his sense of disbelief and pretend that she was Cynthia. Unable to do that herself, too excited to finally be sexually intimate with her son, she couldn’t suspend her disbelief in thinking that her son was her dead husband. Even if she could, she didn’t want to think of Jerry as David. She’d much rather have sex with her son than to defile the memory of her deceased husband by having sex with his son.
A game that she played within the game, beyond all propriety and fairness, she couldn’t believe that she was going to deceive her son into thinking that she thought and truly believed that he was his father. So naïve and easily fool, especially when being played by his mother, if only he knew that she was using him for all that she wanted and needed from him. Yet, more than that and more than being sexually attracted to him, she loved him not just as a mother who loves her son but as a woman who loves a man. Beyond all that was sexually appropriate between a mother and her son, she couldn’t believe that she was finally about to seduce and have incestuous sex with her son.
Her perfect scenario, she couldn’t believe that he was willingly going along with the pretense of them just playing a game of pretend while having sex with one another. How gullible could he be? Yet, in hindsight, maybe he was playing her too. Maybe he thinks her naïve. Maybe he loves her not just as a son who loves his mother but as a man who loves a woman.
So long as the deception worked, what did it matter who was playing who? He’d have sex with her and she’d have sex with him. Isn’t incestuous sex what this game is all about? A win/win for both, she’d get what she so needed and he’d get what he so wanted. Moreover, they’d be having sex without the guilt and without the remorse that always accompanies a forbidden, sexual union between a mother and her son.
“Well, being that I just made up the game and this is my first time playing The Pretend Game, we begin like any other game. Ladies first,” she said looking at him and smiling as if he was her after dinner dessert. “I’ll kiss you as if you’re David and then, when it’s your turn to kiss me, you kiss me as if I’m Cynthia.”
Waiting for him to stop her and reject her but not wanting to continue playing the game, she couldn’t believe she was finally going to kiss her son. A long time coming, she couldn’t count the number of times she wanted to slip him her tongue when they were kissing in the way that a mother kisses her son. She couldn’t count the number of times that she kissed him in her dreams and sexual fantasies while playing The Pretend Game alone and masturbating. She couldn’t count the times that she thought of this very moment happening for real in her life in the way that it was unfolding now.
“Okay but if you don’t mind Mom, instead of calling you Cynthia, I’d much rather call you Janice, Mom, or mother,” he said.
Even though she’d prefer that he’d call her Janice instead of Cynthia, and even call her Mom or mother, yet for The Game of Pretend to work, she needed him to call her Cynthia. For them to remove the guilt and remorse that always followed when having incestuous sex with a relative, especially when those relatives are a mother with her son, she needed him to stay in character, even though she wasn’t. Calling her Janice, Mom, or mother would trigger something that was too real and not part of the game. Calling her Janice, Mom, or mother would ruin The Game of Pretend. So long as he believed that he was having sex with his ex-wife and not his mother, she could always fall back on the pretenses that they were just playing a game and not really having incestuous sex. Working for her, she had no problem pretending that he was her dead husband and not her son, even though she knew better and wouldn’t be pretending at all.
“No, sorry, you can’t do that,” she said waving her hands as if they were two mini stop signs.
“Why not?” He looked at her with confusion.
Acting as if she was a director on a sound set instructing, motivating, and inspiring her actor, she spoke to him with patient understanding. She really wanted to play the game but could only play the game if he stayed in character. She needed him to stay in character so that she wouldn’t feel so guilty and feel like the incestuous slut that she really was the next day. How could she face him in the morning if she had sex with him tonight, not as Cynthia but as his mother? So long as they believed that they were having sex with two different people and not having sex as mother beşiktaş escort and son, they could continue on with their lives later as if this never happened. It was all just a naughty, sexy game after all.
“Totally out of character, if you call me Janice, Mom, or mother, then you’ll break convention with the game as I imagined the rules to be,” she said convolutedly albeit yet convincingly enough for her son to go along with whatever she espoused.
“I see,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She looked at him as if she was his teacher and at that point with him about to have sex with his mother, their sexual union was uncharted ground and forbidden territory. About to embark by walking through a black forest filled with dangers, they were both still eager to continue and to play. Yet, better that he had her as his guide even though having incestuous sex was new for her too, except for all the incestuous sex that she experienced with her son in her dreams and sexual fantasies, this would be a new adventure for both of them.
“The only way we can have sexual relations with one another is by pretending that we’re someone else. We must pretend that we’re not mother and son but husband and wife. You pretend that I’m your wife Cynthia while I pretend that you’re my husband David,” she said. “We need to truly believe that we are two different people for this to work.”
She couldn’t wait to kiss her son. She couldn’t wait for her son to kiss her. She couldn’t wait to touch and feel him in the sexual way that she imagined him touching and feeling her.
“Even though I want to be with Cynthia for the sake of the game, I’ve been trying to forget her,” he said with confliction. “Now that I’m divorced from her, if you don’t mind and if it doesn’t ruin this game of pretend, I’d rather not have her name in my head while playing The Pretend Game with you,” he said.
After voicing his concern, he looked at her with nervous trepidation as if she was going to cancel the game.
“I can understand you not wanting to have Cynthia in your head Jerry but you must understand that if you call me Janice, Mom, or mother instead of Cynthia, you’d be making out with your mother and not your ex-wife. Totally unacceptable, kissing me in that way would not be an appropriate thing for a son to do with his mother. Just as I cannot kiss you and have sex with you if I think of you as my son instead of my husband, I cannot allow you to kiss me and/or have sex with me if you think of me as your mother instead of your wife.”
“I understand,” he said. “I do. I really do. I get it Mother.”
“Uh, uh, nope, sorry,” she said continuing in scolding him to make sure that he did understand the rules of the game as she invented them and continually changed them to fit her sexual needs. “Kissing, touching, feeling, and having sex with your mother is never an appropriate thing for a son to do,” she said pursing her lips and slowly shaking her head while waving her index finger at him as if scolding him for doing something naughty when he was a boy.
“Sorry Mom,” he said.
“What mother who wasn’t an incestuous whore would have sex with her son? For me to knowingly have sex with my son, I couldn’t face you in the morning. The only way we can enjoy one another in a carnal way without feeling any guilt and/or experiencing any nasty repercussions later is by pretending we’re two other people while playing this game.
“Sorry Mom, I mean, Cynthia,” he said. “I get it now. I really do. I promise to stay in character.”
Knowing now that his head was back in the game, she looked at her son and smiled in the way that she imagined Cynthia smiling at him instead of his mother smiling at him while using him. Pounding her sexual agenda in his head, while proclaiming her sexual innocence, she continued pontificating while standing on her bully pulpit. Before, during, and after she has sex with her son, better that he thinks the best of her than the worst of her. The only way for her son to still respect her in the morning is to either not have incestuous sex at all or for them to have incestuous sex without guilt and remorse by pretending that they’re someone else while playing a game of pretend.
“Being that I’m a church going woman, I cannot condone nor will I tolerate such incestuous behavior under my roof,” she said signing herself and kissing her fingers as if she was holding rosary beads. “Being that this is the evening before the Lord’s birthday, once we go down the Devil’s path of incestuous sex to play in the Devil’s playground, then we’d be no better than animals.”
As if she was a nun about to have sex with a priest, she looked at him with innocence and piety before looking at him with horniness and depravity.
“I see,” he said. “I understand. I get it now. I do. I really do,” he said with furrowed eyebrows.
A look of confusion on his face was his sole reaction to his mother’s convoluted explanation that they beşyol escort aren’t having incestuous sex if they pretend that they’re someone else while just playing a game.
“Obviously the reason for us to pretend that we’re someone else is so that we don’t have incestuous sex,” she said. “So long as we’re pretending that we’re both someone else, there’s no way that what we do sexually can be deemed incestuous. All we’re doing is play acting and role playing while playing a game.”
Climbing her soapbox to continue to pontificate and espouse her diatribe against incest while maintaining her good standings in the church and the respect of her son, what she just said was as convoluted as what Jules Winnfield, played by Samuel L. Jackson, said in Pulp Fiction.
‘Well, there’s this passage I’ve got memorized that sort of fits this occasion. Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of the evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and goodwill, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper, and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee!’
“I see,” said Jerry, “but it’s different with you. With Dad dead, and with you having no repercussions of thinking that I’m him or not him, other than perhaps sorrow and loneliness,” he said, “I dare say that it’s easier for you to remain in character than it is for me.”
Sensing he was backing out of the game, she needed to reel him back in by calling his bluff.
“I see,” she said with her having no intentions of being in the character of that cougar of a bitch, Cynthia. “We don’t have to play the game, if you’d rather not,” she said.
She stated her guilt free innocence that only a mother can utter and have as her personal tool ready at her beck and call to make her son feel guilty and to make him feel as if he’s the perverted one and not her. Then she gave him a sexy look that no man could resist, especially if that man was her son.
“Yes, I do want to play the game. A great way to pass the time, it really sounds like a lot of fun to pretend that we’re someone else for an evening,” he said.
Just as with her pretending that she was someone else was not her reason to play the game but to have sex with her son, she suspected that his reason to play the game was not to pretend that he was someone else but to have sex with his mother. In essence, with their game as they camouflaged excuse, they were both using one another to get what they wanted and what they needed under the false pretenses of just playing a game.
“I have an idea that may help keep you in character for you to more enjoy the game,” she said.
“What’s your idea?”
“How’s this? Instead of thinking of Cynthia as your ex-wife or as your wife, think of her at a time before you were married. Think of her when you were first dating. Think of her the first time you kissed her, the first time you touched and felt her, and the first time you were intimate with one another.”
“Okay, yeah. Sure. That’s a good idea. I can do that,” he said. “That will work.”
“Shall we begin to play the game then?”
“Yes,” he said.
* * * * *
“Take a seat on the couch so that I can kiss you,” she said with nervous trepidation.
This was it. This was finally it. He could reject her with her kiss, want to kiss her again, or not want to kiss her at all in the way that a woman kisses a man and not in the way that a mother kisses her son. Maintaining a positive attitude while hoping that he’d pretend she was Cynthia, she hoped that he didn’t reject her but would want to kiss her again and again. She watched Jerry move from out of his chair to sit beside her on the couch.
“Okay,” he said putting a gentle arm around his mother’s slim shoulders.
Comforting her, the weight of his arm made her feel safe. She felt his fingers trace her bra strap through the thin material of her blouse. Instead of only tracing her bra strap, she couldn’t wait until his horny hands felt her breasts through her blouse and bra. While kissing her, French kissing her, she couldn’t wait for him to finger her nipples through her clothes as she felt his cock through his pants.
Playing a game of pretend, albeit such an incestuous game, with both of them a little inebriated but not drunk, just as she was totally aware with what she was about to do, she suspected that he knew what he was doing too. Crossing the line from decency to depravity, with incest forbidden in many countries and in many states, what they were about to do while pretending that they were someone else was to feel something that a mother and son should never experience. Taking a walk on the wild side, they were embarking on forbidden beykent escort territory.
“Are you ready?”
Just as she remembered being nervous with her high school prom date, his father, more than 30 years ago when she was a young, inexperienced woman of 18-years-old and about to receive her first, adult kiss, she was equally as nervous when poised to kiss her son. Just as she imagined when she was alone in her room and masturbating with her vibrator and dildo while imagining Jerry there with her, here she was sitting on the couch in the living room with her son ready to kiss him.
“Yes,” he said.
With Jerry seated beside her, she could feel the heat of his thigh pressed against her thigh. The warm sensation made her wish he was on top of her and in between her legs instead of sitting beside her on the couch. She couldn’t wait to feel his warm hand on her naked thigh. She couldn’t wait for him to explore her between her legs when touching her panties with his fingertips.
Not wasting another second, Janice leaned into him and kissed her son on the lips. More than a peck but longer than the kisses they’ve been exchanging when standing beneath the mistletoe, this was the first real kiss she’s given her son, albeit without slipping him her tongue. Even though she wanted to French kiss him, not wanting to rush their first kissing exchange, she refrained from doing so. The last thing that she wanted to do was to frighten him into not wanting to continue playing their game of pretend.
“How was that?”
Feeling flushed and giddy, albeit a little embarrassed that she was sharing her sexual passion with her son, she leaned forward in her seat to take a sip of her scotch. She hoped that the magical, miracle elixir would give her the courage that she needed to continue. Thinking that she was more than ready to have a sexual affair with her son, she was suddenly having second thoughts.
What if he rejected her? What if he thought she was a slut for trying to seduce him? What if he was only playing along with her and playing the game just to humor her because she was so lonely and still grieving over the death of his father? What if he didn’t want to have sex with her?
“That was nice,” he said. “Much better than I expected it to be,” he said seemingly lost in the stare of her blue eyes. “When you kissed me, I was able to imagine Cynthia kissing me.”
She wondered if he was lying. She wondered if he was playing her as much as he was playing him. She wondered if he’d kiss her in the way that she kissed him and in the way that he kissed Cynthia.
“Now it’s your turn now to kiss me,” she said dizzy with desire for her son to kiss her.
This was it, the finally test for her to know if he wanted to continue playing the game. Just by his kiss she’d be able to tell if he wanted her. Just by his kiss, she’d know if he was humoring her or was lusting over her as much as she was lusting over him.
Janice closed her eyes in anticipation of being kissed by her son. Ready to be kissed, with her pulse racing and her heart pounding, when she felt the softness of his lips on hers, as if waiting for him to ravish her, she surrendered herself completely to him. As if she was Ellen Olenska played by Michelle Pfeiffer when finally kissing Newland Archer played by Daniel Day Lewis in Edith Wharton’s Age of Innocence, she was already lost in her game of pretend. Yet, already cheating at playing the Game of Pretend by not staying in character, her son didn’t know that she wasn’t thinking of her dead husband but her alive son while kissing him. If only her son knew that she was thinking of him while kissing him, she wondered what he’d think of her, a mother kissing and lusting over her son while pretending to play a silly game of pretend.
Kissing her even more romantically than she kissed him, Jerry kissed his mother and surprised her by kissing her with much more passion than a holiday kiss but without parting her lips with his tongue. It was a kiss that Clark Gable as Rhett Butler gave Vivian Leigh when playing Scarlett in Gone with the Wind. It was a kiss that Humphrey Bogart as Rick Blaine gave Ingrid Bergman when she played Ilsa Lund in Casablanca. A kiss without tongues, it was a kiss that Sgt. Milton Warden, played by Burt Lancaster, gave Karen Holmes, played by Deborah Kerr, in From Here to Eternity.
“How was that Cynthia?”
With her already swooning by her son’s kisses, she couldn’t wait to experience more. If his kiss felt this good without him impaling his tongue in her mouth, she couldn’t wait until she French kissed him and he returned her passion by French kissing her.
“That was nice David,” said Janice remaining in character.
A dangerous game they were playing of romantically enticing and sexually teasing one another, Janice was ready to French kiss her son. It would be one thing if Jerry was a man that she had picked up and brought home from an evening out at the club or at a bar, but she was kissing and ready to French kiss her son. With her ready to go all the naked way of sucking and fucking her son, how far would he be willing to go with this pretense in having sex with his mother?
“Now what?” Jerry looked at his mother while obviously knowing full well what was next.
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