Stepmom Finds Stepson's Taboo Games

Chapter 1 - The discovery

I discovered the taboo games my stepson develops, and not only did I discover them, but I played them all, from start to finish, and I got all the endings.

That day I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was happy because I suspected that the money my boy was bringing home was from selling drugs, and fortunately that wasn't the case. My boy took advantage of the fact that he was already of legal age to earn money legally by developing erotic video games for adults, which seemed relatively normal to me. But when I realized that the games had strong sexual content between stepmother and stepson, I must admit that it scared me. It made my heart race and caused me a lot of anxiety.

What was going through my boy's mind? Does he really think like that? What will he think of me? Terrified and uneasy, I decided to play his games thoroughly, and it didn't take long for them to show brutal sex. Guys fucking their moms in the ass, filling them with cum, where in some strange and twisted way love predominated, but even so, there was a high degree of morally questionable behavior. Despite that, it had a strange way of heating up the situation, as if they were propitious dreams where a boy ended up fucking his own mom in all cases with different shades of love, which made me feel strangely aroused, not because of the incest, of course, but because of the scenes, dialogues, and narratives. Little by little, I lost myself in the plot, in the decisions I had to make to advance the story, and I didn't realize that I was no longer just playing my boy's games, but that with my other hand I had started to touch my crotch.

No one else was home, I knew no one was watching me, and to be honest, it's something I often do anywhere in my house. I've always had a very active sex life, and over time, my husband has lost some of his energy, so to keep myself relaxed, I usually masturbate daily at home during the day when no one else is around. That's why it didn't seem strange to me to be touching myself while playing the video games my boy had developed, because it's almost like watching porn, and there's nothing wrong with that. I used to watch porn, read erotic novels, or sometimes just use my imagination to give myself a delicious orgasm, but now I was experiencing new sensations.

Incest between stepmother and stepson seemed so tender and strangely exciting that, in a matter of moments, with three of my fingers inside my pussy, I came sitting on my own boy's desk chair, where he sat every day developing video games about boys who fucked their own mommys. And to be honest, I let my imagination run wild until huge spasms invaded me in an intense orgasm, and a somewhat strange feeling of guilt for what I had done in my own boy's room. I immediately felt paranoid imagining the eyes with which my boy was surely looking at me, and doubting how well I knew him. I gathered my courage and continued playing for the rest of the day until I finished all his games, but not before ending up in another fantastic orgasm for the second time, thanks to those strange feelings that those games provoked in me and my desire to let off steam so I could get on with my normal life despite everything I had discovered that afternoon.

In the evening, everyone arrived as usual, and I found it difficult to look my boy in the face. He acted completely normal, and I don't know if he noticed my distance because I tried to hide it very well, because I didn't really know what was wrong with me. I only knew that I felt ashamed, I felt dirty for having masturbated all afternoon in his room, I felt paranoid because I didn't know how well I knew my boy, and I still felt excited, so I encouraged my husband to go to bed early to do things that happy married couples do, but as usual, when we went to bed, he pushed me aside, saying how tired he was, and fell asleep immediately, while I was still eager to feel my husband filling me with love... Well, after he was asleep, I went to our bathroom to masturbate while taking a hot bath, unable to get what I had discovered out of my head, wishing I had a cock inside me and cumming. As soon as my boy's tender cock crossed my mind. I squeezed my breast hard while the frantic massage my fingers were giving my clitoris slowly calmed down as my sanity returned.

And after I had relaxed my great sexual tension, I couldn't help but cry. I didn't know what was wrong with me, I couldn't control what I was feeling, I felt like a bad mom, a degenerate, a dirty woman, I felt like the worst person in the world, and I also felt alone. My husband was asleep, he wasn't very concerned about me, and I had no one else to turn to for comfort but myself. With no desire to resolve anything, I went back to bed to try to continue living the happy life I had been living, knowing that it was all in my head, that no one knew what was going through my mind, and that if I didn't let it affect me, there would be nothing to fear. And that's how I fell asleep.

The next day with my boy, everything was unsettling. I couldn't relax. I was suspicious of him, and he seemed to notice. I couldn't help it. I felt uncomfortable wearing clothes as loose as I always did, and I admit that I covered myself up more than usual. My boy was no longer someone I trusted, not after what I had seen. He was developing those games, and I couldn't think of anything else. I thought it was my fault for being so shameless, and that must have awakened something animalistic in my boy that led him to these incestuous fantasies. In reality, I felt terrible, but I still loved him. He's my baby, and the internal conflict I was experiencing was overwhelming me. So, to avoid showing how I felt, I devoted myself to doing the housework while my husband was at work and my boy was at home that day.

I wanted everything to go normally, but when I was gathering the clothes for the laundry, I noticed that my black lace panties were missing, the sexy ones that my husband likes so much and that I wear from time to time to seduce him. It doesn't always work very well, but every now and then I kept trying. And it was nowhere to be found. I was sure I had left it on the bathroom counter, but it wasn't there or anywhere else. I didn't want to believe it. It must have been like his widow game. My boy had taken my thong to masturbate with, smell it, lick it, and maybe even cum on it, which made me burst into tears. I couldn't tolerate the emotion I felt. How could I not have noticed? How long had my boy been doing this? That was wrong. Fantasizing in your head is one thing, it doesn't affect anyone, but my own boy taking my underwear, his own mommy's thong!

And taking it to masturbate with is frankly too much. I had to do something, I had to stop him and not let this escalate any further, so I calmed my crying with a glass of water and decided to confront him. I already knew how. I was very embarrassed, but it was the right thing to do. It was the only way to have a reason to bring up the subject. So, without warning, I went to my boy's room with a domineering attitude and took him out of his room with the excuse that his bedroom was disgustingly dirty and I was going to clean it. With a little luck, I would find my thong there, which would give me the opportunity to talk to my boy about it and offer him the help he needed to forget those incestuous thoughts he had in his head and focus on a healthier sexuality.

With a clearer head, I started to thoroughly clean my boy's bedroom, although to be honest, a part of me, a part hidden deep inside me, wanted to find my black thong among his things. It turned me on to think of finding it, perhaps covered in semen, in my own boy's bedroom, maybe with semen still warm... Those words were voices spinning around in my head, but I tried to ignore them.

I didn't find anything. I looked everywhere, left everything very clean, and found nothing. I pretended not to notice and continued cleaning the house, and after a while I found my thong among my things in my bedroom. I immediately remembered when I had left it there, which made me feel very guilty and terribly wrong. I immediately doubted my boy. I thought he was the protagonist of one of his games and that he used my underwear to masturbate, and I couldn't have been more wrong. It made me feel terrible, my eyes filled with tears for distrusting my own boy like that, but this time I controlled myself. I am the housewife, this is my kingdom, and I must take control. I can't cry over these things, and if there's something I have to do, I do it, and I shouldn't feel guilty for trying to be a good mom... I was thinking about that when my boy approached me from a distance, seeing that I wasn't my usual self, which made him worry, so he came to find me to see if I was okay.

When I looked into his eyes, I could see my boy again. Even though he was already grown up, I could still see my baby in him. I told him I was fine and to give me a hug. I needed to feel that we still loved each other as mom and son, and that my tears were nothing more than a misunderstanding, because what matters is that we love each other. Although he didn't understand much, I gave him a big hug that helped calm me down. At that moment, I realized that it wasn't like that for my boy, because it wasn't very common for us to hug each other like that, and my hug was so effusive and tight that I later realized that I was pressing my breasts hard against my baby boy's chest, who wasn't so little anymore. My boy was already quite big. I could feel him firm and athletic, at 18 years old. and although he seemed a little uncomfortable with the hug, I didn't care anymore. In fact, I thought I had given the matter too much thought and that if I had something to talk to my boy about, I should do it now. So, stepping away from him, I told him I needed to talk to him and, showing the most discreet calm in the world, I told him that I knew about his games and that I had played them all.

My boy turned white, but before he could get any more scared, I told him that I still respected him, that I understood that what he was doing was fiction and that reassured me. It also reassured me that he wasn't a drug dealer or gay with a degenerate sugar daddy who gave him money for sex. I told him those were my biggest fears, and he laughed when I said that, which also relaxed the atmosphere, which was still a bit tense.

He didn't talk much, which I found reasonable. The subject was actually delicate, so I had to show maturity and approach the subject delicately so as not to traumatize my baby. Then he hurried up and asked me, "Did you like what you played?" I was so nervous that I couldn't help but laugh a little, and I told him he was talented, but that it all seemed a bit fake, as if he sometimes made things up too much or didn't give enough detail. I asked him if he based it on his own experiences, which he denied embarrassedly, letting me know that he was still a virgin. Surprised, I asked him why, didn't he have any female friends his age? He immediately replied that they didn't like them, neither young girls nor flat-chested girls, neither him nor his fans. They liked mature, empowered women, and unfortunately, he hadn't had the opportunity to meet a woman like that yet.

I clearly understood why. He still looked very young, and a mature woman would surely find him too small or still see him as a child. He told me that this had complicated things for him, that he had had to rely on what he developed and saw on the internet, but that it was all basically fiction. That made me feel tender and calm. I was already thinking that my boy was a degenerate, and now I see that he's just a shy boy, and of course he has a sexuality that's normal for his age, which makes me happy, and I couldn't hide my smile even though he was telling me about his inexperience with a certain sadness and embarrassment.

So, out of the love I have for him, I decided to help him, and I told him so, but first I made it clear that incest is wrong, so I would think of someone else, another person, to help us. My boy was happy and thanked me very much for not scolding him and for supporting him, but when I realized that I might have gone too far and that perhaps it would have been better to ignore the subject, I felt that I had already gone too far and couldn't let my boy down, so I started thinking about how to get out of this situation. I thought about a prostitute, but I was afraid to take someone like that to my baby boy. I told him that he could catch a disease from a woman like that. It disgusted me to send my little boy to those filthy women, or rather, since my baby is young, a virgin, and submissive, a witch of a whore might fall in love with him and suck his blood like a leech and end up killing him. He couldn't just have any help, it had to be someone trustworthy, responsible, and with good intentions. In the end, I would be putting my boy in their hands, and although perhaps his father should have done this, in these modern times I understood that it was up to me to do it, and as a mature woman, I am willing to help my boy's sexual development in the best way possible.

I called my younger sister, who is a little younger than me and looks a lot like me: blonde, very voluptuous, with large breasts and wide hips, which was more or less how my boy described the characters in his games, so I thought she could help me. But when I started to explain the matter, I was embarrassed to talk to her about incest. I told her everything: the erotic visual novels, the mature female protagonists, the sex scenes, and everything, but nothing about incest, because at that moment I assumed it wasn't that important. She responded with a resounding no, telling me that it was my responsibility to educate my baby boy about sex, and that I shouldn't be ashamed, that I was the person who loved him most and that I would know how to educate my boy. She started lecturing me, and I saw her point, well, some of it. He's my boy, I shouldn't leave this matter in someone else's hands. I could help him in an educational way. Besides, it's the human body; we shouldn't be ashamed of it. And of course, my sister was very good at talking to people and convincing them, so after talking to her for a while, I felt really motivated to take on the task myself and teach my boy. The reason was very noble: it would help his human development and the development of his video games, perhaps as an inspiring muse. That made me feel beautiful, even more so with all the compliments my sister had given me. She knew how to lift my spirits, so after talking to her and feeling clearer, I decided to talk to my baby boy to help him with his issue.

I waited for the right moment when we were alone and went to my boy to talk about the issue we had pending. He looked excited, his eyes wide as he listened attentively to what I was saying. I told him about the conversation I had had with my sister, and I also told him that I hadn't been able to tell my sister about the incest, but that we could ignore that issue and focus on what we could actually do. Jokingly, I told him that I would be the Rose from Titanic, so he could discover what a woman is with me, always in a respectful tone, without forgetting that I am his mommy and that this is something educational... But as I explained the matter to him, my body felt strangely excited. I think I also blushed because my temperature rose and I felt hot, which led me to take off the vest I was wearing, leaving me in a strappy top with a generous neckline.

I could tell that my boy, without thinking, dragged his gaze from my eyes to my breasts, this time without fear, his cheeks flushed and his breathing obviously agitated, which made me feel attractive, so I said, "Go get something to draw..." But he replied that he didn't draw, that he made characters on the computer, but that his games weren't just about the appearance of a beautiful MILF, that there was more to it than that. Not wanting to seem ignorant, I told him that of course, that I was joking, that I knew what he did and that I should see everything related to it, etc. My boy asked me if he could take pictures of me, but I refused categorically. I didn't want any evidence that could compromise us, and I also asked for absolute discretion and that we keep this as the biggest secret we could have between mom and son, something sacred, and that we not tell anyone in the world, to which he agreed without hesitation.

To be continued...