Okay, I know a lot of you may think I am either a s** writer trying to get you off, or a complete nut (the latter being the truth as you will see). Whatever you may think, I just need to vent.

Let me start with some context: I am a single mother, and had my son Jason at a very young at 14. I lived with my ex boyfriend Todd for years until things went south. Todd was like a dad to my son in a way, and we loved each other. We were like a modern hippy family in southern cali (it was my dream come true at the time). Things became bad when he started using uppers (which were prescribed to him for shift work). Todd constantly yelled at me by this point and would be physically abusive to me around my son at times. The last straw was when he tried to burn our apartment down while I was at work (true story, he thought I was cheating on him, good news is my son was at his grandma’s house at the time, and no one got hurt). My son was probably 8 years old or so when this happened, all of this was pretty hard on him. I got a restraining order after he still tried to maintain contact with my son at his school. We had moved in with my mother in her one bedroom trailer. She always slept on the couch and she allowed me and my son to have the bedroom in the back. I took my son out of school and home schooled him as my mom went to work at a factory she supervised.

This leads us to my bad parenting (of which I am ashamed): I started home schooling my son, but after a few months I got lazy, and we got bored. I ended up getting him a tutor/private teacher but eventually by the time he was 14 I could not afford it. Me and my son had a relationship like brother and sister or rather best friends . We were very close but not in a mother/son way. While my mom (i.e. his grandma) went to work, we would sleep in late, laying in bed, cuddle and watch soap operas on tv (and play video games all day etc,.) and then when my mom would get home, we would hurry up, get dressed, and act like we were doing home school work (I know this is really bad!). We were not shy around each other, we took showers together, we would always be naked around each other (but that was kept secret from my mother as this never took place around her).

By the time he was 17, we were still like best friends, and we kept the same routine. We were so close that I was always invited to hang out with him and his skateboarder friends, and they treated me like his “punk rock girlfriend”… even though most people would be very weirded out, it was so gradual, no one thought anything of it.

At the time this was the best feeling in the world. I was basically part of the group (in my mind) and I loved this punk rock culture. The guys in the group always called me his “wifey” (that became my nickname “wifey”). In the beginning, my nickname was meant to mean that “I looked young” and he (my son) “looked old”, in other words, it was not serious (and the nick just stuck after that). We would all go see rock bands, and we were a tight group. I always wore “punk/emo” outfits to make myself look younger, showing a lot of cleavage, s*** fishnets with skull piercings, and dyed my hair black with pink highlights (on top of getting n***** and tongue piercings I got tattoos in many odd places). I would drink, party, and smoke some pot. Again I am ashamed, and I cringe at how stupid and immature this was. We would all go hangout for hours everyday at a guitar store (owned by one of the guy’s older brother in the group). I would sit on my sons lap and vegg out on the trashy couch next to a T.V. with Nintendo 64. I would lay with my arm around my son’s neck, sitting on his lap. smoking cigarettes. the group would play music, eat, drink and play video games. It was like being a teenager for a second time in my life.

On my son’s 18’th birthday we all put together money to get strippers and rent a party room. This is when I realized I had gotten attached to him in unhealthy ways. One of the strippers was giving us a lap dance, and my son kept trying to dare me to touch the strippers a**. I did accept the dare like an idiot, and even made out with one of the strippers (while him and all his friends cheer in the background). One of the strippers kept paying special attention to Jason, and would even just sit and talk with him without dancing. I was a seat or so away and I glanced over and noticed Jason asking for her number. I was hurt and jealous. I took a few shots of vodka, and tried to forget what I just saw. After I was pretty buzzed, I went over to Jason (after that stripper finally went to go to the bathroom). I said something to the effect of “You did not really get that w****’s number did you?” … He replied by spanking me on my b*** (playfully, not really s******* per say), and putting my leg over his waist. He said with a grin in a sarcastic voice “what you jealous? or you want to have a t********?” … I hit him on his chest, and in a flirty tone, I replied “You are such a perv!” Then gave him a kiss on the lips and got up to refill my drink. That night we ‘tip toed’ into our back room while his grandma lay snoring on the couch (as the T.V. is blaring to boot). We shut the door, got naked, and he passed out. I could not help it, I wanted him, and for the first time with self admission, wanted him bad. The whole night I was trying to act like I was sleeping but would push my b*** up against his p****, just hoping he would go inside one of my holes… but he was dead asleep. I uncovered him, brought my face low enough to smell his b*** and genital area. The next morning I woke up drooling on his foot on the opposite end of the bed. My first thought was “I have serious serious issues”, but tried to bury those thoughts.

We just laid around the house naked most of the day until my jealousy started to come back to my memory. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to want me more than that stripper w****. I devised a plan, and did everything I could to butter him up and get him h****. We always told each other our deepest darkest fetishes. We would often times lay in bed and talk for hours, the nasty things we were too scared to tell others. I knew he had a f**********. I knew he experimented with a*** with my v******* when he was 13 while I was sleeping. I knew what kind of p*** he liked. I knew what turned him on.

That night after Mom went to bed, we wet to the room, got naked and shut the door. I started asking him if he would rub my feet. He said “okay but you have to give me back rub later” and I agreed. As he was rubbing I said (in an almost joking voice) “damn baby that feels so good, I would pay you to s*** my toes right now.. mmm” … He laughed and said “you would f****** not!” … I grind and put my toes up to his nose and said “c’mon! lick pleeeease!”… I could tell he did not know if I was serious (as I often teased him and called him foot boy). He said “Okay but you have to s*** my toes too then!” … I said in a sarcastic voice “you perv! Is that what it takes to let you know I am serious!?” .. He laid down and put his stinky foot (almost kicking me in the face) right up to my mouth. I went all in and started licking and sucking in between his toes. I then felt his mouth sucking, licking and smelling my feet. I did not let him know I was s******* aroused, but I could tell he was trying to hide his erection. We ended up watching a movie and falling asleep.

We woke up, and my mom had not left for work yet (she was late and this was unusual). I tapped Jason and whispered “hey get clothes on, grandma is still here!”… we scurried to get clothes on, I got my sweat pants on and a shirt, he slipped on his jeans. He went out to the living room to play video games and say bye to grandma. I heard the door slam as she left. As soon as she left I yelled “Jason! Come her!” and had (my now naked) leg up with my arched foot. I grinned and said “k … she is gone… s*** my toes!” He reluctantly replied, and said “and what will you do for me?”… I said “I will get us some p*** movies from the video store! You little perv! Now s***!” … He then asked with a grin (now holding my foot near his mouth) “You promise?”… “Yup! Now s*** babe!” i demanded.

Fast forward and we spent the next few weeks binging on p*** of all sorts, sneaking the movies and watching them while his grandma was asleep. During this time, we both had watched each other m********* many times. After we would c**, we would lay around and cuddle, gently tickling each-other’s b*** hole area. We began opening up more and more. Every morning I would wake up and he would have a giant erection, pressing it against my b***, and this is when we began dry h******. a few weeks later, he was giving me rim jobs and I was returning the favor. Two weeks after that, I am sitting on his face, in six-nine position, giving my own son a b******* while drunk as a skunk with the nastiest adult p*** playing in the background you could ever imagine (drinking also started becoming a bit of a problem for me at this point).

One night we are watching p***, and I am drinking some vodka and cranberry. He is rubbing his p**** to some h******* double a*** stuff. He starts talking really dirty to me, saying “I like the smell of your b*** when you don’t shower”… “I want you to s*** me off after I am deep in your a** hole!” (and other just filthy, seemingly gross, fetish talk). I bent over and told him to put his d*** inside me, spreading my a** cheeks on my knees. He started f******** my b***, I of course was drunk and really getting turned on my this. He licked and spit, and then mounted behind me. I was preparing my self (as I figured he would put it in my a**) and tightening my b*** so I don’t fart on his first loss of full virginity or worse (although he had fetishes where he might like it, but I wanted to be as lady like as possible). I used vibrators up my a** many times, so I like the pressure, but am excited at what is about to happen. Then I feel him (to my surprise) enter my v*****. He starts going at me for 5 minutes and says “Okay you might want to stop…” and… cums inside of me. This was NOT good.

Over the next month/months, we would do a*** only (but sometimes v***** with condom), and obsess over my period, if I missed it or not (I took too many pregnancy tests to follow). Never got pregnant by my son which I am thankful, but I had some close calls and not just with my son (I will explain in a minute). At this point we did EVERYTHING. Stuff I wont even mention because some would probably think it was gross. This went on for years.

On his 21st birthday we partied hard. We decided to check out a rave in Sacramento, we met a black guy there who wore black eye liner and wore tight leather pants, he was very attractive and really liked our taboo relationship. This is when we both first tried Molly. This is something we only ended up trying once but it lead us that same year other horrible drugs and s***** deviancy. The black guy, who we will call Robert, introduced us to it. We all became best friends since that night. After that night, we were invited to Robert’s house every night. He let us use the spare bedroom. We drank heavily every night for weeks at Roberts, taking bong hits, and just getting really fucked up. We ended up moving out of my mom’s trailer, and moving in with Robert (my mom thought this was my new boyfriend, and was glad I found someone). We ended up helping Robert sell crystal, as he was gone a lot with his “lady boy” or what he called his “chick with d***”. We made a lot of money. Robert ended up breaking up with his “chick with d***” after a few months, so he was having more time to spend with us.

We were all laying on the couch one night watching reruns of the flinstones, drinking grey goose vodka. I was laying on Jason’s lap and had my feet on Robert’s lap. Robert said “hey um, it is my birthday…” … We both gasped, and sat up asking Robert why he didn’t say anything. He grinned and said “hey for my birthday will you guys smoke a bowl with me?” … Now he was not referring to a bowl of weed, he was referring to crystal. We did not hesitate (since we were drunk and giddy). Robert lit up the glass pipe, and then gave it to me and began lighting it, instructing me on how to inhale. I blew out and felt like I found my meaning in life. The feeling was like s** times one billion. Jason took a hit and gasped “Wow!” … I leaned in to kiss Jason after he full exhaled. It was the best kiss (still to this day) I ever had. We started taking our cloths off, and before you know it, Robert was joining in. They decided to act out the p**** we were now watching in the background. I could tell Jason was not really ready for bi, but wanted to experiment. They let me s*** both their dicks at the same time. Eventually, I was on top of Jason as he lie back to the ground, and Robert behind me. I felt as two penises were attempting to rub together in my a***. This at first was amazing and I like the new boundaries, but we just kept smoking meth and it was never ending s** and h**** inventions. They would BOTH be in my a** rubbing together inside VERY HARD. We went for days (I AM NOT EXAGGERATING!). We did not stop to go to the bathroom, we did not stop to drink (unless it was piss or c**), they just fucked me in every hole together (but for longer hours at a time in my a** hole). Because I was so high, I did not realize I had defecated s*** everywhere and was now bleeding. I ended up in the emergency room severely dehydrated and a r***** gushing blood (of which I will spare you the rest of the details). I made up a story that me and my boyfriend tried “legal-speed” or some s***, and had a*** s** for too long. After I was released this was when the horrors began.

Although, in the beginning we did not consider our selves addicted to meth, this became very apparent when I was now using every day with Robert and Jason. S** became a major addiction like never before for all of us. We would go to so many orgies and s** parties (which was something I would have never done before crystal). We started making amateur p*** of me and Jason (and Robert would post it online). We managed to use and sell crystal in the process. We continued to make this our lives for the next year and a half. This was the most disgusting, “evil” times in my life looking back. We all wanted to push limits for our armature p***, so we did things that were like an animal, we called it zoo. We kept it between us. and just kept falling worse and worse (but keep in mind while we are high, we all truly thought we were succeeding by being more daring, and exciting, and that we discovered the “secret to life”). i know now why addicts will call this the “meth lie”.

After a total of almost two years I hear a loud knock on our door. Robert ran to get his gun, I was sure we were getting robbed. We were naked watching our homemade p*** when the Feds busted in. I was arrested. Jason was arrested. Robert ended up dying (I will not say how for the sake of our identities as this is easy to find). I will change some details for the sake of anonymity: Served 6 months prison time for i***** and recorded acts involving vile acts such as i***** and 4 years on top with 2 year probation (dropped from 15 years) for the distribution of meth. This was rock bottom. It is hard to write about this. I served 3 years of my 4 1/2 year prison sentence and was released last month. My son did not end up serving any time and attends AA meetings (I attend similar meetings). We both have feelings for each other that we can not change, and we know it is wrong and gross. We stay away from each other because we both know if we got back together in any way, this would cause us to use.

In conclusion, I have never told anyone my story. I am left with an uncontrollable s***** addiction, and a constant temptation to use drugs. The temptation to use drugs is small. But my outrageous s***** desires have failed to be something I can easily control.