Hello. I'm Robin, 50s-something mother who is very much involved with my wonderful son. We are private people (but posting here is an oxymoron), and I began seeking others with whom I might be able to discuss issues related to the kind of relationship this site deals with.
In another message, she went into detail about how it all began...
I suppose I made the first move. Here is my story: I am a widow whose son was a year old when his father was killed, and the compensation from his death allowed us to have a comfortable life, one I did not plan for, but which is what it is now. I live together with my son in a pleasant part of a moderately-sized town where I hold a position of responsibility. I am also part of the few percent of women who has an ongoing incestuous relationship with her son.She described the initial in mostly clinical detail, then wrapped up...
Our incestuous activity grew out of a very innocent and frank discussion we had one evening at the dinner table a couple of months before he was graduated from high school and just prior to his last prom of the year. My son was 18 at the time.
It started with a simple question about what intercourse was like. My son and I have always been able to talk fairly openly about most any topic, and he had often asked me to confirm notions about sexuality that he had heard either in class or among his schoolmates. On this occasion, he came straight to the point, and I explained as best I could, which is akin to telling a man what it is like to give birth to a baby. When I asked after a somewhat clinical and sometimes halting description if he "understood" from my explanation, he said, "Not exactly." I don't know if what I said next was born out of my own sexual frustration or out of compassion for the genuineness of his question or a bit of both, but I inexplicably and completely contrary to my normally staid demeanor asked him if it would help if he were actually to experience it. There was one of those pregnant pauses and the look on his face went through several transformations until he finally smiled, averted his eyes from mine, and asked with a sheepish grin, "What are you going to do,hire an escort to have sex with me?" My answer to this even surprised me.
"No, son. You would experience it from me. I don't want you to get some kind of STD from a perfect stranger."
After his initial and understandable shock and embarrassment, he said somewhat shyly that he did want to experience it. To be certain, this was very awkward for both of us, but the door was opened, and we muddled through it. I said that it would happen under some very clearly understood conditions. First, he had to swear to me that he would never, under any circumstance, reveal this to anyone in any traceable way, no matter what. We would also experience each other in total darkness (I did not want him to see my face when in the throws of ecstasy, but rather, I wanted him to "see" me with his body). We were just going to have intercourse (I have never until recently considered it "making love," which will be reserved for his wife if he ever marries). He agreed and we finished the rest of our dinner in a strained silence, cleared the table, wiped the dishes, and then stood in the kitchen and just hugged with tender understanding. I could feel that he was trembling.
I told him that I would be waiting for him when I went to bed that night, and that he was just to enter my room, close the door, and feel his way to my bed. My heart was pounding when I said that, as I am sure his was also, for we were both blushing.
Now, he enters my room when he has a need, rolls down the "blackout" screen to the windows if they're not already down, and enters my bed. My tubes are tied, so there is no worry about pregnancy. Besides, I’m in the change. It is now always pleasant, always satisfying, most always done in silence or with very few words, mostly guidance talk, yet always with tenderness and respect. Obviously our relationship has changed from parent-child to loving and respectful lovers, and oddly, our "in-the-daylight" relationship has grown steadily warmer and stronger.
Consanguinamory between mother and adult child can happen in different contexts, including "family-with-benefits," healing/encouragement, lovemaking guidance and confidence building, and lifelong romances.They shouldn't have to hide; they are consenting adults. And if they want to get married, they should have that freedom.