Like A Kid Again

I'm a college student, living alone in a one-bedroom apartment off campus. I had a live-in girlfriend for a while, who looked just like a younger version of my mom. I didn't consciously realize until after the fact that she looked so much like my mom. In retrospect, that was exactly why I was so attracted to her. We would role-play that I was her son, being paddled over her knee. I basically wrecked that relationship by being fanatical about the role-play I turned her off, I drove her away. In the months that followed I got pretty heavily into online porn. I found a site where the members of the site would write their own porn stories, some real, some fiction. They also uploaded pictures of themselves. The stories were categorized in an easy to navigate system where you could lookup specific scenarios. You can also comment on stories. I gradually found myself gravitating toward mother-son incest and f/m spanking. I touched myself repeatedly reading stories and looking at photos and artwork in those categories. I stopped for a while when I became consciously aware I was getting sexually aroused by memories of being a little boy getting my bare bottom paddled over my mom's knee. But then I went back to it. I found a member on the site who reminded me a lot of my mom and quickly became a fan of hers. There were no pictures of her face, but there were pictures of her body. A sexy body that turned me on. In her stories she said she had a son in college, a couple hours drive away. Many of her fantasies centered around having sex with her son. She tried to live this out in real life by being with as young of men as she could, and with men who resembled her son. She would spank them with the same paddle she used to spank him with while they called her "mommy." And then have sex with them. There were even pictures of her holding the paddle, which was exactly like the one my mom used to use on me. It was from one of those "paddle ball" games, where the paddle has a ball attached to it with elastic. But not one of those cheap, flimsy ones you might get at a discount store. It was much sturdier than that, hard enough to give a real spanking with. She had painted over whatever was originally on it, and just wrote "Michael's paddle" on it.  That was the first thing that aroused my suspicion. What a coincidence this woman had the exact same style of paddle my mom used on me, with the same writing in the same colors. This woman who was the same age as my mom, with the same body type and skin tone. Wearing the same clothes. With a son my age, the same distance away for the same reason. This woman whose house and furniture looked exactly like my mom's. Who's screen name contained my mom's first name. Son of a bitch! I commented on her latest story with some information that would identify me to my mom but wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, followed by the words, "Call me tomorrow night at 7." I wasn't even surprised when my mom called me the following night at 7. She protested a bit too much, like she was trying to convince herself, not me, that there was nothing sexual about the spankings she gave me when I was a kid. It was all for my own good. Now, I had had some time to prepare for this conversation. I said, "Now we both know that isn't true, but it's fine." I was able to steer the conversation to what we both wanted but neither one could admit. This day we admitted it. She wanted to take me over her knee again and then have sex with me. And I wanted it, too. She was going to come out to see me in a few days anyway. I said, "Be ready to play." I already had an outfit that was just like my grade-school uniform, just in my current size. I wrote up a report card in the same style as the report cards from my grade-school I wrote it as all F's, and a bunch of comments about my having a bad attitude, disrupting class, being an all-around bad boy. It was unseasonably warm the day mom came out to visit me in my apartment, and she was wearing shorts. I had been becoming aware for quite a while, but it still hit me hard how sexy my mom is when I opened the door. I couldn't help but stare at her legs. She noticed the grade-school uniform I was wearing and asked about it. Pulled out of my trance, I finally looked her in the face and noticed how she was looking at me. Her eyes were full of lust as well. I answered, "I'm a seven year old boy. Today is report card day, and you're my mommy." I handed her the report card. I could tell she was trying to hide how aroused she was and sound genuinely angry and disappointed. She failed in that. She said my full name, followed by, "This is your worst report card yet! What did I tell you was going to happen if you didn't improve?" My acting wasn't any better. "You said you were going to beat my butt. Please don't, mommy. I promise I'll do better." "Yes, you will do better. You will also get the paddle. Where is it?" "Right in here." I lead her by the hand to my bedroom. I had conveniently placed a straight back chair next to a dresser with a ping-pong paddle on top, where she could easily reach the paddle from the chair. She sat in the chair, crossed her legs with her left knee on top, and picked up the paddle with her right hand. "OK, Michael, bend over my knee." "Please, mommy, no." "Now, young man." I already had a full hard on. I pulled down my pants and underwear, and my dick bounced around a bit. I bent over her knee, with my hard cock pressed against the inside of her bare thigh. The first whack was harder than I expected. Not really too hard, but harder than I expected. I jumped and yelped, but made no attempt to get away from her. This is just where I wanted to be. She spanked me in a slow, steady rhythm, making each whack count. Gradually getting harder and harder. After a while, it stopped getting harder. We broke character a bit. I said, "Spank me harder, mommy." "I'm spanking you as hard as I can." I was prepared for this. The ping-pong paddle was really just a warm-up paddle. I said, "Check the top drawer of this end of the dresser." She didn't even try to hide her delight in what she found. Her voice was practically giddy, "Michael! Do you really want me to spank you with this?" She pulled out a thick, holey paddle. I tried to get the role-playing back in track. "No, mommy, I don't. But I need to be taught a lesson. Just do what ... " The first whack with the new paddle hit me. I jumped and yelped again. She spanked me as hard as she could with the new paddle. I started to do a lot of squirming. My hard cock rubbing against her inner thigh. She kept on spanking me for several minutes.  I started to cry a little. She stopped long enough to ask, "Are you OK?" "Don't stop." That was all she needed. She kept on spanking me just as hard. I cried my eyes out like a baby. She kept on spanking me. Finally, I shot my load all over her thigh. Then she stopped. I slid off of her knee and was kneeling next to her. Even though I had shot my load, I was still hard as a rock. In between sobs, I said, "Thank you, mommy" and hugged her. This turned into a kiss on the lips, which turned into a full on make-out session. This led to her lying naked on the bed, with me eating her pussy. I shot my load again when she orgasmed. Still hard as a rock. I got a condom out of another drawer, and we fucked. We had a mutual orgasm and then fell asleep in each-other's arms. A new love affair, a new type of relationship, had begun.