Stories Hub / Celebrities / Going Rogue... with Her Son

Going Rogue... with Her Son

by RoughNTumble 01/18/10

Note from the author: This is my first story for Literotica in a few years, and I hope you like it. I chose this particular celebrity as a subject because she is hot, and I think that she deserves to be, well, nothing but sexual object. Now, I'm not saying that about all women. There are many intelligent, capable, and attractive women who deserve respect and would make a great leader. Sarah Palin just doesn't fall under any of those categories. So for the purpose of this story, I essentially created a fictional character, gave her that name, and turned her into a pornographer's wet dream. Also, I am always interested in chat or story exchange with mature, married women (I sort of have a thing for them). Any such ladies that enjoy this story and would like to pursue online chat, roleplaying, etc, please email me. Enjoy!


I was out of the army, home for the first time in years, and as most returning soldiers are, horny to the point that it was insane. It didn't help matters that I was also under a roof with a woman that nearly every man in America would trade his big toes to sleep with. She's a veritable sex goddess: dark brown eyes, auburn hair, full lips, and a body of firm and feminine curves that have made even her greatest detractors drool. You may have noticed that in her smart black suit with knee length skirt during the vice presidential debates, that she had an ass that you could bounce quarters off of. What makes this story really weird, and more than just a story about a younger man fucking an older woman? Well, my name is Track. Track Palin. And the woman I'm referring to, the object of desire, even to those who hate her? My mom, Sarah. This is my story, the story of how one young guy got to have the hockey mom every man wants. And to be honest, when we were in the heat of the moment, I didn't care that she happened to be MY hockey mom.

1. It started when her political advisor, a sniveling doughboy of a man name Smedley, told me the moment I stepped off the plane that I was to, under no circumstances, "cat around."

"Your mother is just now finishing up her book tour, and remember, her base is the Christian Right," he said. "They forgave us your sister's indiscretions. They may not be so forgiving if they heard about... well..."

I shook my head "That Sarah Palin's son actually has a sex life?"

"Yes," he said sourly. "That you have a sex life. So try to keep it in your pants."

I grudgingly said I would, and I took the limo ride home. Mom and Todd (I call him that because it drives him nuts. My dad and I don't really get along). were still out on her book tour, but when they came home, we had a big party in my honor. It was very nice, we had our real family friends over, not the new assholes my mom panders to keep herself in the spotlight. Mom looked gorgeous that evening, as always. She wore a crimson turtleneck sweater that fitted her gorgeous form like a glove, tight dark blue jeans, and a simple pearl necklace that I had bought for her in Fallujah. We were spending the week at our lake house, sort of a break for me after coming home, and a break for her after the tour. My friends came and went that night, and we had all has a few to drink, especially Todd. I had just gone into the kitchen, cracked open our last beer, when he came in, opened the fridge door, and bellowed at me, "Did you get the last beer?"

I balked. "Well... yeah."

he slammed the fridge door. Quite a temper, Todd has, especially when he's three sheets to the wind. "Great. Just great. I spend the whole touring all over fucking America, and then you take the last beer!"

I held it out to him. "I just took a swallow. You can have the rest if you want."

"I don't want your goddamn sloppy seconds!" he said, batting the drink away.

Just then mom walked in. Well, strutted. Everywhere she goes she struts. Jesus, she's hot. "Todd, what is all this racket about?"

"Asshole here, took the last beer!"

Mom looked at me, then to him. "I can send out for more. You don't have to take this out on Track."

Dad through up his hands at that and said, "Bah! What's the fucking use!" and then stomped away. We could hear him stomping his way up the stairs. Hopefully to bed.

Mom sidled up on me with a pouty look on her face. "I'm so sorry sweety. Your Dad is really going through something lately."

"Yeah," I replied. "He's going through the wall if he yells at me like that again."

She stepped toward me and did something a little forward. She moved so close we were almost belly to belly, and ran her hand along the firmness of my bicep. "Please don't, honey. You're so strong and vital you could really hurt him."

She smiled at me and my knees went week. I have had a thing for my mother since I was thirteen. I never admitted it to anyone, ever . And she has always been flirty, but never like this. She was wearing her hair up by the way. No glasses. She has a beautiful, graceful neck. "Well, I didn't mean it literally, mom. But he hasn't said a single thing to me since I have been home, accept to bitch. What's his deal."

Mom didn't budge, but started running her hand up and down my arm, slowly, gently. "Well, we're having... husband wife problems."

"Like what?"

"Well... your father is on a heart medication now that... sort of renders him... unable to gratify me."

I thought it was interesting the way she said that. Gratify her. Huh. "You mean he can't...?"

Mom shook her head, looking pitiful. Too pitiful. "Nope. Hasn't for six months. And it has been as hard on me as it has on him. Maybe harder." She wrinkled her nose in a grin. Her teeth are perfect. " I mean, I didn't get pregnant four times because I like going to bed early."

I sighed. "I know what you mean. I'm in my early twenties, and I wasn't stateside ten minutes before Smedley was telling me that I had to control my urges so as not to alienate your base."

Mom stepped back and leaned against the table, her breasts standing out proud and firm. "And you aren't mad at Mama for that?"

Calling herself 'mama' in the third person, and in a sexy tone? huh. "Um, no ma'am. I understand. And I'm a team player."

"I know you are, sweetheart." She reached out and ran her fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. "You always have been. I have always been able to count on you to do what needed doing. To be discreet." She stepped forward and cooed at me. "And you have become such a man..." with one finger, she traced along the ridges of my pecs, my abs. "Military service has left you in great shape, honey."

"Uh... thanks." I was unbelievably turned on. Also, very freaked out. I briefly wondered if I had lost my marbles and was hallucinating all of this. Gulf War syndrome, anyone?

"Do you think I'm attractive sweetheart?" she mewled.

"Come one mom, every guy in America wants you."

She grinned at that. "Every guy? Present company included?" I gulped. "Well, I need someone I can trust. And I have always I known that I could count on you to keep a secret, if I needed one kept. Couldn't I sweetheart?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well, at this stage in my life I find myself with very, very strong... needs. And this just happens to be, through bad luck, the one time your father has been unable to fill them. But with our livelihood depending on religious nuts buying what I'm selling" (Yeah, my mom has never really been all that religious. She just started putting on the act for the dumb asses in the Republican party that held her up as an example of piety) "Well honey, can you imagine what would happen if I took a lover and it got out in the news."

"Disaster, humiliation. the whole nine yards," I said.

"Right! But I can't really live like this anymore, not having what I need," her hand was slowly tracing its index finger over my belt buckle by this point. Good god. "so I thought and I thought and I thought. Who could I trust to never, ever betray my trust.

I grinned at this. "Well, mom. There's always Smedley."

She snorted. "Well, I know I could count on him not to betray a confidence while it was in his best interest," and suddenly, her hand slid down and cupped my cock through my shorts. "But I had another trustworthy young stud in mind."

Now, I have, as I said, always had a huge thing for my mom. Lots of guys with hot moms do. I have jerked off while imaging fucking her in every depraved way imaginable. But when you are confronted with your ultimate fantasy, you feel both thrilled, and like you are going to puke. firefights, roadside IED's... faced them. But this had me shaking with lust and fear all at the same time.

"Mom," I croaked. "Are you propositioning me to..." And then she kissed me. Right there in the kitchen, pushing me back against the fridge. She tasted like fresh baked bread and milk. Sweet and clean and perfect. She smelled like honeysuckle. My hands encircled her waist and I pulled her close, her hands my massaging my hardening cock. And all I could think was "Don't throw up in her mouth. Don't throw up in her mouth."

She broke the kiss, "Sweetheart, I know you have wanted me. For the last several years I've wanted you..."

"But Jesus, mom... This is incest! What about Dad?"

"Track, you don't even like your father. In truth, neither do I."

I stepped back. I wanted to take her and fuck her more than anything else I had ever wanted. But this was treachery. "Yeah. But there's a pretty big distance between not liking your dad and wanting to sleep with his wife. Who also happens to be your mother."

She scowled at me then. My mother is not a woman who likes being told she can't have what she wants. "Tell me," she said, turning around, looking at me over her shoulder and grinding her perfect ass up and down my crotch, "That you don't want to fuck me. Say those words to me." She took my hands and placed them on her hips.

"I... I don't want to... sleep with you."

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