A work of fiction. All characters over the age of 18

*

Part 1

I was going to die. I was sure of it. Of all the hangovers I had endured; college, graduation, birthdays, weddings, wakes and festivals, this was by far the worst. I pulled the covers further over me. My head felt as though it was trapped in a slowly tightening vise.

My husband entered the room. He was carrying a tray of pancakes and a glass of water. I sat up in bed as he placed the tray over me. My migraine flared and I groaned. How much had I drunk last night? I wasn't even close to remembering. Mark leaned in and planted a kiss on my forehead.

'Thanks for looking after me, sweetie,' I whispered to him.

'It's just breakfast in bed,' he replied.

'Not just that. I mean everything.'

'Oh, everything. Well, yes that deserves recognition and reward.'

I smiled and sniffed at the pancakes. My stomach rumbled but not in hunger.

'Oh...I still feel rough. I can't believe how sick I was last night.'

'Were you? Haha, really? Oh Janey, you haven't been that bad for a long time.'

'Don't you remember? You held my hair back as I threw up.'

Mark furrowed his brow.

'Are you sure you're not imagining it? I definitely didn't do that.'

'Oh.'

How strange. I could have sworn someone held my hair back and helped me to bed. And then...something else happened. Something odd.

'Perhaps you're right. I honestly can't remember much now I think about it.'

'You weren't sick upstairs anyway. I would have heard you, I'm sure.'

I had definitely vomited. That particular memory was quite vivid in my mind. Mark scratched his head.

'Do you think you might have been spiked?'

'Possibly,' I said, sounding more blasé than I had intended.

'I do remember large parts of the night though. I remember coming home with James and then waking you up.'

'I think you woke next door up as well with all the noise you were making.'

I cringed. I did have a tendency to become loud after a few drinks. We lived in a quiet cul-de-sac away from the suburbs and any loud noises late at night would certainly be noticeable to the other residents.

I sat up in bed and rubbed my temples. I knew there was something about last night, some memory or fragment that was lost but calling out to me to try and recover it. It was the most frustrating thing, like when you want to use a particular word and you can see the word, you know it's perfect for the sentence you want to use it for but try as you might it will not materialise in your brain.

If I had not been sick in the house then where would I have done it? Back at the bar, the taxi, perhaps even in the garden. Each potential location was more ignominious than the last. I had made a fool out of myself and someone was there to witness the entire debacle.

Someone who had held my hair back while I puked my guts out. This much I was certain of. Mark kissed my forehead again and ruffled my hair.

'Make sure you drink your fluids. I'll be out in the garden. I'll have my phone with me if you need anything.'

'Ok, darling. Thank you.'

I sighed and watched him leave the room. He was too good to me. When we had first met then I would have laughed at the prospect of spending the next twenty years of my life with him. I had always gone after headstrong, confident, reckless men.

Mark was none of those things. But, he was safe and reliable. I knew that he would never let me down, lie to me or cheat on me. Part of me suspected that he didn't really have the guile or ambition to do any of those things anyway.

We complemented each other and that was enough for us to be happy. It was a comfortable happiness. Not the wild careening euphoria of the most intense romances but a warm and secure love for each other. Our son James had arrived within a year of courtship. He has his father's good nature and my curiosity and he is the quite the best thing to ever happen to me.

James...James brought me home last night. He had been working as a temp at my firm for the past six months. We had wanted him to go to university after graduation, but he had insisted on taking a year out to enter the workplace and earn some money for his education.

We would drive in together, him half awake and taciturn and me full of vim and eager to start the day. I would moan at him in the morning to get a move on or we would be late and he would moan at me in the evening for staying to work after our designated clocking off time.

He was conscientious and worked hard and it gladdened me to see my colleagues so complimentary about him. We worked in different areas but met up occasionally for lunch and coffee in the canteen. It was my first glimpse of him as an adult. Stepping out into the world and likely leaving me and his father behind. It was a happy time but laced with melancholy as well. I didn't want it to be over and for him to leave.

The Friday night had been a celebration. The company had won an award and the top brass had sprung for a night on the tiles complete with free bar and a long bank holiday weekend in which to forget any debauchery.

Debauchery. My head ached as I tried to recall more of the events of the night. I remembered going home with James first. We had both showered and changed into glad-rags before heading back into town. There was a blur though visions of endless flutes of Prosecco and Bucks Fizz kept cropping up. Were there shots?

There must have been shots. I had a healthy tolerance for wine and the occasional spirit but it was clear I had gone well beyond my normal limits this time. Yes, someone had definitely held my hair back as I threw up. There was something else though...it felt like they were pulling my hair as well. Or perhaps they were keeping me from keeling over?

I wasn't sure what the worst embarrassment was. Not being able to recall all of your indiscretions or not knowing who to apologise to. James may know. I had been drunk in front of him before but never to the extent that I was last night. Mark mentioned he had brought me home which was a reassuring thought.

I hoped it was James who had attended to me in my moment of need.

Better my caring son than a stranger or someone from work. I took a swig from the glass of water and settled back into bed. I checked my phone. No unusual messages or cringe-worthy photos from any of my groups or contacts so perhaps I wasn't the worst affected from the celebrations.

I pulled the back the covers back and closed my eyes. When I woke up I would have to check with James and get the full details.

Part 2

I awoke from a strange dream. I instinctively reached over for Mark but he wasn't there. I checked my phone. 3pm. I groaned and lay my head back on the pillow. The dream came back to me. It was strange because it was a sex dream and I couldn't remember the last time I had had one of those.

I thought they were a symptom of a lack of sex and whilst Mark and I were not exactly at the peak of our powers we still made time to fuck at least once a week.

Mark was a considerate lover. Unadventurous, yes. Bland, maybe. But he was attentive and enthusiastic and there was not much more you could look for in a lover. Or was there? I wasn't bored as such because any couple who have been together as long as we have would carry some element of boredom. We were in a rut, but it was a pleasant rut. It was a rut I was satisfied to be in.

In the dream I was giving head. But it was nothing like the blowjobs I would give to Mark. This was fantasy fellatio. The type of blowjobs I imagined on Pornhub or other such sites. The man clutched my hair as though it were a type of strap and was using it to pull me over his cock. When I had gone as far as I could he let go and grabbed at the back of my head. He forced me down further until he had hit the back of my throat and I gave a muffled cry for release.

The dream shifted and suddenly I was lying on something...a table perhaps? My head was dangling over the edge. The man stood to the side, my head in his hands again. He fucked my mouth. His balls slapped against my forehead. It was relentless. His fingers tightened around my neck. His cock was huge. It felt like he was trying to saw his way through my skull with it. The pressure was intense. There was a brief nano-second of air to gulp down before my mouth was once more overwhelmed with this thrumming length of flesh.

I sat up in bed. Of all the fantasies I had lusted over, this feeling of submission and lack of control was unfamiliar. And yet...there was something so immediate about it. Something so real. I put my hand to neck. I couldn't feel any tenderness or knots. There was a slight ache in my jaw, but I had just chalked this up to my drunken shenanigans.

My hair was a mess but that was a given since I had been sick and likely rolled into bed. A creeping dread fell over me. What if it wasn't a dream? What if it was a memory? What if the man had taken advantage of me? It would have been so easy. I was without my faculties, blind drunk and barely able to control my motor functions. Easy bait for a predator or reprobate. I jumped up and rushed to the bathroom.

I looked haggard and tired. I chastised myself for my excesses. At the grand old age of forty-six I thought I would have learned by now. I undid my dressing gown and checked myself. Apart from a few aches there was nothing untoward. No bruises or marks. I felt my shaven pussy. No puffiness or tenderness. My double D breasts were starting to sag I noted mournfully. But still...I twirled in front of the mirror.

Aside from the hangover I was pleased with what I saw. Still tight in the right places and curvy in the better places. Still a figure that would make a man notice and pay attention and...possibly abuse.

I put my dressing gown on. I was more befuddled than before. I wanted so badly for it to be a dream, but something was nagging away at me. It was linked to the episode of vomiting. If that was true, then the other thing may well have been true.

The hands that had brushed back my hair and held my hand as I was throwing up were also the hands that had gripped tightly around my neck as they guided their cock into my mouth. It was real. It had to be.

I lay stunned on my bed. I felt so foolish and helpless. Had I been spiked? I was normally so careful. I didn't know where my complacency had come from. Who could have done this to me? Should I go to the police? I tried to piece together more of the previous night. Mark said James had brought me home and took me up to bed.

So, whoever had done this must have done it and then somehow managed to return me to my son. Who knows in what state? James was the key. He may well know who was responsible. I felt ashamed even though I knew I was a victim. I didn't want to tell anyone. Not the police, not my husband and certainly not my son. How would I even broach such a conversation. I was lucky as well. I was sure it was just a blowjob.

'Just a blowjob', I thought. It was a brutal, incessant assault. An act of domination. My dress. Where was it? Perhaps there was DNA on it or other trace evidence. I got up and checked the linen basket. The dress was there. My favourite little black dress. It showed just the right amount of cleavage and leg. I gave it the once over. To my shame there was a splatter of what could only be vomit. There were mud stains as well.

I felt at my knee. It was sore but clean. There were no other stains or unusual marks that I could see. I suddenly remembered the cock pistoning in and out of my mouth. My saliva dribbling down over my face and into my hair. I ran my fingers through my long, blonde hair. Yes, there was a small clump near the top of my forehead. It felt brittle and dry. I sighed. Could I really call the police? Ask them to come around and collect what was possibly a handful of follicles stuck together with dried cum?

It felt stupid but also necessary. Greater crimes had been identified with less discernible evidence so why should I care? I knew why. I didn't want to admit what had happened. I had let my guard down and someone had exploited the opportunity ruthlessly. It would get out. They would find out at work.

Outwardly they would be sympathetic, but behind closed doors they would gossip. The men would snigger and blame. The women would judge and tut. I held my head in my hands. No, I couldn't go to the police. I couldn't be sure they would even believe me. I didn't have a suspect, there was no name of face attached to my assailant. Just the cold grip of his hands and the warm girth of his cock.

My mind raced. He had come in me. He had flushed his semen down my racked throat and into my belly. It was still in me. The legacy of his violation still swirled somewhere in my bowels. What sort of man was he? I wanted to turn detective. I wanted to discover him myself. What sort of man helped and then abused? A drunk, vulnerable woman who had just puked her guts up. Who could barely stand or form a coherent sentence.

I shuddered and laid out on the bed. I would have to ask James. I imagined he would not be as drunk as me and had a better recollection of the evening. I wouldn't go into specifics or set him to worry. No, I had to be careful and probe with discretion. No-one could know of this.

Part 3

I lay restless in bed for another hour before getting up to shower. As the hot water washed over me I cried. It was only for a minute and was not cathartic in anyway. I stepped out and dried myself. Flashes of the previous night ambushed me. Laughing, joking, drinking. Then throwing up. A voice. A man's voice as he purred his approval. I got dressed up and tied my hair into a ponytail.

The day was gone and I was just getting up. My headache improved after the shower. My sense of shame did not. But I was angry now. A righteous anger. I looked out of the window. Mark and James were in the garden weeding. They looked so similar. At 6'4, James was several inches taller than his father but they had the same aqua blue eyes and goofy smile. They had a similar physique as well, both strapping and heavyset. Not gym-toned by any stretch of the imagination. More Dad-bod than six pack.

James had never been much of a sportsman though he was a keen cyclist like his father. Watching the two of them as they laboured in the garden cooled my anger a little. I should tell them. That was the dream wasn't it? Every woman wanted to be able to tell their spouses and loved ones of any trespasses or injustices perpetrated against her and then watch as they took revenge on the wrong-doers. It was a quaint image and served no purpose here.

I shuffled down to the kitchen and poured myself a lemonade. I waved to them but only Mark waved back. James hunched over the flower bed he was working on and redoubled his weeding efforts. There was some pasta in the fridge and left-over beef wellington. I was relieved as I was in no mood to cook anything. I grabbed a cap and stepped out into the sun.

'Well, look who's finally decided to return to the land of the living,' Mark called out.

I gave a faux-laugh and winced inside. I had an urge to scream. Shout out the truth and let the world know.

'Haha. I know. I'm a disgrace. How are you feeling, James?'

He stood up and gave a weak grin.

'Not great, Mum. But better than you I'm guessing?'

'You guess correctly, son of mine. Whoo. What a night! I don't recall too much to be honest.'

'Oh?' He tilted his head.

'I remember the bar and...I think one other place after that closed down, but very little after that.'

'You're lucky you have such a thoughtful son. Without him who knows what might have happened?'

James blushed and said nothing.

'Yes, evidently. Well, you'll have to fill me in on the gossip, James. It sounds like I missed out on a lot.'

'Not really, Mum. Just the usual antics. I wouldn't worry about it. It will all be forgotten by Tuesday.'

He nodded and crouched back onto the flower bed.

I chuckled and left them to it. I took my lemonade upstairs and sprawled out on the bed. It wouldn't be forgotten. No, there was no chance of that. I wouldn't just brush it under the carpet. I wouldn't let it stand. I crawled back under the covers and went to sleep.

Part 4

I got up and checked the time. 3am. I sighed and turned over to face Mark. He was snoring gently in his sleep. I smacked my lips. No dream this time. I didn't feel grateful though. I slipped out of bed quietly. I was famished and couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. Oh yes, I thought. I could actually. A strange man had fed me a nightcap of cum. I almost laughed. It was a strange feeling, like gallows humour. Just the thought of it made me quiver.

That pulsing cock firing bead after bead of cum against my tonsils and down my throat. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and across the landing. There was a light on in James's room. His body clock had obviously been thrown out of kilter as much as mine. I crept closer. There was no sound coming from within. He was either asleep or had his headphones in.

I gave a small tap against the door. There was no answer so I left and headed downstairs. I grabbed a banana from the bowl and munched forlornly on it. It was horrible, this feeling of helplessness. I didn't even know how to raise the conversation with James. 'So, before we got into the taxi, did you notice any weird guys hanging around with me? Did any of them look particularly rapey?'.

I opened the fridge and chugged on a carton of orange juice. The banana had not filled me up but my appetite had gone. I creaked back up the stairs. As I crossed the landing, James's door opened.

'Mum?' he whispered.

I put a finger to my mouth and loped over. I walked into his room and shut the door.

'Sorry, did I wake you?' I asked.

'No, I was up. Still recovering from last night.' He wore shorts and a loose-fitting T-

shirt. He walked over to his desk and leaned against it.

'Yes, I know. Look, I just wanted to apologise.'

He seemed taken aback.

'What for?'

'You know...making a spectacle of myself. If anything I should be having to look out

for you on a night out...not the opposite.'

'Oh...don't be silly it's fine. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?'

'Enjoy yourself, chat some girls up, I don't know...whatever it is you young turks get up to these days.'

He chuckled and shook his head.

'Maybe with my friends. Work colleagues? Not so much.'

I giggled.

'Yes. That is a very good point. I hope you're right anyway. I hope come Tuesday there won't be any mention of me or any incidents.'

'Incidents?' He stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Oh, you know. Just general drunken tomfoolery. Like...I don't know...being sick.'

'Oh.' He relaxed and sat back down on his desk.

'Yeah, you were pretty out of it.'

'Thanks for reminding me. I haven't been sick from drink in a long time.'

'It happens to everyone. It wasn't that bad anyway.'

'Oh. You saw my dress. There was some vomit on it.'

'Yes, sorry about that.' He rubbed at his leg.

'Sorry? For what?'

'I tried to aim you away from it, but you were shaking.'

'You...tried to aim me. Wait...'

'Yes. We got home and then I was helping you up the steps to the door. You dry retched and said you were going to be sick. I went to open the door but you stumbled around the back into the garden.'

The mud on my dress.

'You got as far as the patio and tripped over. When I helped you up you were sick on me.'

'Oh my God! I'm so sorry!'

He smiled and waved the apology away.

'S'ok. I never liked that shirt anyway.'

'So...I was sick here?'

'Yeah, that's why I was helping Dad today. Covering up the evidence in the garden, haha.'

'I thought...I thought it was in town.'
He shook his head.

'No. I mean...not that I'm aware of. It was a lot of vomit. We were outside a while.'

This made no sense. Had James been the one who was with me while throwing up?

'Anyway. It's all fine now. I'm going to hit the sack now, Mum.'

'Oh, ok. Sleep well, sweetie.'

I closed the door behind me. I stood on the landing. The pinhole light of the motion sensor blinked at me from the corner of the ceiling. My heart took turns to beat faster and then slow to a dangerous level. James? I staggered into bed. I didn't know what to believe anymore.

James must have been the one with me when I was sick, but then where did this mysterious interloper come from and when would he have had his opportunity to take advantage of me? My mind was feverish. Was it really just a dream? Or did it happen and I had the timeline messed up? I tossed and turned until dawn.

Part 5

I didn't know what to do. I was stood in the garden peering down at the flowerbed that James had been working on the previous day. I stared at it in the vain expectation of some part of my memory being jogged but there was nothing.

There was a doorbell camera around the front of the house but nothing overlooking the back. I wasn't sure if I would want to review it anyway. To look and see this awful, swaying, unintelligible version of yourself in high definition. I must have made it up. The alcohol had mixed with the darkest part of my imagination and conjured up this domineering and merciless stranger.

It wasn't amnesia, I told myself. It couldn't be. I listed the options. It was true and it happened earlier in the night. Or, it wasn't true. The second option was more comforting and it was no wonder that I grabbed at it. There was a third option. One that I did not dare enunciate. James had done it. Just hearing the thought in my mind made me feel nauseated. It was an abhorrent thought, wretched in its conception and I tried to drown it out.

The unrelenting logic of my brain refused and listed the evidence in favour. I turned and looked over at the patio. The garden table was there covered in a plastic sheet. I retraced my alleged steps. I had staggered past the gate and into the garden. I had made it as far as this flower bed before I started being sick.

James had come over and tried to help me up and I had then thrown up a little on him. He must have manoeuvred me back to the flower bed and stayed there until there was nothing left in my guts to expel.

Yes. He stayed and drew my hair back. He rubbed my shoulders and held my hand. My son. My little boy. I didn't want the re-enactment to continue any further, but I couldn't stop. How did we go from there to the table?

With me lying across it whilst he rammed his cock into my mouth? How did this change from a gesture of compassion to a depraved scene of wantonness? It made no sense. It was a huge leap and that gave me encouragement. There was no in-between to explain it. It was like a ridiculous porn scene where the plumber turns up and five minutes later he is having sex with the housewife.

'Hi Mum.'

I jumped in shock. James opened the conservatory door and stepped out.

'Oh...hi...'

'Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's fine. I was just daydreaming.'

'Are you sure you're ok? You've been pretty quiet since Friday. Not still hungover are you?'

There was a glibness in his voice that I did not appreciate.

'I...yes. It's just...just like I said. I've not been that blackout drunk in a long time so it's just odd. Little things keep coming back to me.'

'Oh?'

That was when I knew. That very moment. The panic in his eyes. The tremor in his voice as he said that one little word. I turned and threw up again. Straight over the geraniums. Mark would be upset. That was my first thought as I confronted the awful truth. Mark would be upset about his geraniums.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was like a shock went through my body. Yes, this was the hand. This was the hand that had comforted me. The hand that had held my throat still. I knew it was true.

'Oh my God!' I cried out.

James grabbed both my shoulders.

'Mum, quiet!'

But I wasn't listening. I clawed his hands away from me. I slapped him. Hard. He towered over me but I got a good shot in. He hung his head.

'Please, Mum. Not here.'

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to be breezy and sarcastic. I wanted to say, 'ok, well where would you suggest is a better place to discuss you violating me?'

But I said nothing. We stood and stared at each other with horror in our eyes.

'Janey!'

My heart almost exploded. Mark was waving at me from the kitchen. The phone was in his hand. I rushed away from James and snatched up the phone. I still don't know who it was I talked to or what we discussed.

Part 6

Incest. What a horrible word. Something about it that makes my skin crawl. And here I was guilty of it. Did it matter that I was an unwitting participant? I had this vision of the police pulling up to my house and dragging James and I away in handcuffs. My own son. How could he do this to me? How had I misjudged him so catastrophically? No parent ever really knew their child but is this how little I knew of him? Of his character.

I took a long walk after the phone call. So many conflicting thoughts shuttled around my head. My own son. What a failure I am. How hollow my normal, comfortable life is. Nice house in the suburbs, two cars, career for life, several holidays a year, son going to university. It was all a sham. I had raised a degenerate.

That old cliché. Mothers will forgive their children everything. How could I forgive him for this? I checked my phone and saw he had sent me a message. One word.

'Sorry'.

That was it. No explanation, plea for forgiveness or hope for redemption. Just...'sorry'. I stared at and grew angry. I wanted to confront him. I texted back for him to meet me in the local park. There was a wood there we could talk without fear of being overheard. He texted back, 'ok' and I set off to meet him.

He beat me there. I forgot there was a cycle path that led round the back of our house to the wood. I didn't say anything as I approached him. He followed me off the track and into a secluded copse. He looked like he had been crying. Despite myself I felt a maternal tug. As though I should just take him in my arms and let him know everything would be fine. But it would have been a lie.

'Why?'

I croaked out the question unable to raise my voice.

He sniffled and opened his mouth but nothing came out.

'Tell me,' I said.

'Tell you what, Mum?'

'Everything that happened. Everything. I don't want you to leave anything out. I want to hear what you did to me.'

He looked like he was going to start crying again.

'No! No tears. You don't get to cry.'

He brushed his eyes and nodded.

'I...I know this will never, ever be enough...but I am sorry, Mum.'

I stifled a laugh.

'So...I had to drag you from the last place. You didn't want to leave, but I could see you were wasted. I told you we were going to another bar. But as we walked outside, I flagged a taxi and got us both in. You didn't even realise. We were sat in the back and you started calling for Dad. You...'

'What? What! Say it!'

'You said you couldn't wait to get home and be fucked.'

I had the good grace to look embarrassed. We both did.

'I tried to get you to be quiet but you wouldn't listen. You kept calling me 'Mark' and saying all the things we were going to do when we got back.'

'Oh God.' I put my hand over my face.

'You started groping me.'

'What?' I exclaimed.

'You started grabbing at my cock and trying to kiss me. I had to push you back. But you kept going. Eventually the taxi driver threw us out. That's how bad you were.'

My mouth dropped open and my cheeks flushed. I nodded to James to continue.

'We were only a mile from home so we started waking. You insisted on me carrying you piggyback. I didn't mind and to be honest I just wanted to get home and go to sleep. I started carrying you but then you started whispering in my ear. Filth, Mum. I don't know how else to describe it. Then you started sticking your tongue in my ear. I had to put you down.'

This was awful. I expected it to be bad, but hearing it out loud like this, hearing someone describe my own unforgivable behaviour made it even worse.

'James...I...I'm sorry, but that still doesn't...'

'Let me finish, Mum.'

'...alright.'

'You started shouting. This was 3 in the morning! You know what our neighbours are like. I tried to get you to shut up, but you wouldn't listen. I even held my hand over your mouth to try and quiet you down. You licked my palm. You grabbed my hand and started sticking the fingers in your mouth. And then...then you said you would be quiet. You'd be quiet if I kissed you.'

'What?!'

'I swear to God, Mum. I wish I was making this up. That it was all some horrible nightmare, but you asked and here it is.'

I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry.

'I agreed and gave you a peck on the cheek. But you laughed and shouted that it wasn't a proper kiss. So...we kissed. And you felt me up again. But it was ok, because we finally made it home. I though it was all going to be over then. But then you said you needed to be sick. You went to the garden and I waited while you threw up. And then it was over. But you kissed me again. Straight after puking up, you stuck your tongue down my throat. I complained and then you said you would make it up to me.'

This was it then. The time of revelation. I had listened and it was shameful and I felt sympathy for him. But I held it in check because I knew what was coming. My behaviour was inexcusable but...did it excuse what was about to happen?

'You pushed me over onto the grass. To be honest I was pretty sick of everything by then. As I tried to get up you unbuckled my belt and undid my flies.'

'Why didn't you stop me?'

He threw his hands in the air.

'I don't know! It...it just seemed to happen so quickly. One moment I was turning to get back in the house and the next thing I knew I was on the floor and you had my dick in your hands.'

'Don't give me that bullshit!'

'It's true. Should I have stopped it? Of course, but...then you started sucking it.'

'Oh God.'

'I'm sorry! Ok! I tried to stop you, but you just wouldn't listen!'

There was a desperation in his voice. He almost sounded believable. Or was this just a feeble attempt to gaslight me? To try and convince me that rather than being the offender he was actually the victim and I had raped him with my mouth. It was ludicrous.

'I forced myself onto you? Is that what you're really claiming?'

He held his face in his hands.

'I knew you wouldn't believe me. I should have...'

'Should have what, James? Stopped me? How many opportunities did you have? I'm not entirely blameless in this, but do you honestly think this is your best defence?'

He brought his hands down from his face. I could see he was biting his tongue.

'If you have something to say then say it,' I admonished.

'It was too good to stop.'

'What?'

'I said...once it started there was nothing I could do. It was too good. The best blowjob I've ever had.'

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

'I was so close to cumming, but you know what...I didn't want to. I didn't want to stop. I know you're my mother but at that moment you were just a beautiful woman who had my dick in her mouth. And I just didn't want it to stop. It was so good. So, I pulled you back by your hair. You were giggling. I remember that. You were enjoying it. I led you over to the garden table and spread you out across it. You knew straight away. You knew what I wanted and you shifted into position without me having to do anything. Imagine that, Mum. You were so drunk you could barely stand but you knew what your place your head should be in for a facefucking.'

I cried out. He didn't seem so contrite any more. In fact, he stood there defiant. He

was revelling in unearthing all the horrible details.

'I...I don't know what came over me but...I just needed to do it. I just had to shut you up. I wanted...I wanted to punish you for the way you'd acted. So yes...I fucked your mouth. I fucked your face. I fucked your throat. I put my balls between your lips. I ran your tongue all the way to my arse. And eventually I came. Some of it you spat back up. But most of it...you swallowed. You swallowed with a smile. You licked my dick clean. And it was the best orgasm I've ever had.'

He turned with a flourish and walked away from me.

Part 7

I stayed in place for an hour. The birdsong, normally so sweet and melodious, was like a funeral dirge. I sent Mark a message asking him to get takeaway for the evening. He replied asking me if I was ok. It was a good question. I responded yes and told him that I had just gone for a long walk to finally sweat out the last drops of alcohol from Friday and this seemed to sate him.

If only everything could be solved with pizza and long walks. I didn't know what to do. James had gone from remorseful at the beginning of his story to almost unrepentant by the end. It disturbed me a little that he felt I was as much to blame as him. How could we get past this? It was an unconquerable problem from all perspectives.

We couldn't tell anyone, we barely wanted to discuss it between us and there was no manual or guide for it. I reached home and greeted Mark in the garden. He was repairing the bird feeder. Someone had cleaned the geraniums up. I gave him a hug and a kiss and joked I was finally sober. His goofy smile made me feel normal for a brief moment. I looked up and saw James's curtains were drawn. I decided to grasp the nettle. If I didn't confront it now then it would grow and grow and I would be overwhelmed. No, I had to root it out now while there was still time.

I knocked on his door. There was no answer so I opened it. He was sat on his bed watching something on his ipad. He had a look of irritation as I walked in.

'I didn't say you could come in.'

'James. We have to talk. We can't go on like this.'

I drew the curtains and pulled the chair out from under his desk.

'What's there to talk about?'

He looked defensive. As though I had cornered him and he may lash out.

'James. I cannot excuse what I did. I know that and I am sorry. But what you did in response was unbelievable. Taking advantage of a drunk and vulnerable person. Your own mother!'

It sounded harsh which wasn't the approach I was going for. It was a mistake, I knew. He scrunched up his lips and focused back on his ipad.

'That's it? You're not going to address this? Is this what it's going to be like from now on between us? Surly, standoffish? Both of us trapped either side of the elephant in the room?'

'What do you want me to say, Mum?'

'I want you to acknowledge what you did was wrong. It was a crime.'

He snorted and jumped off the bed.

'A crime?! Are you serious?'

I got up to counter him. He was already much taller than me standing up and sitting down I didn't want to feel overwhelmed.

'Well, maybe a jury should decide!'

He smiled which unnerved me.

'So, what are you going to do, Mum?'

'I'll tell your father. I'll go to the police,' I huffed at him.

'No. You won't Mum,' he said softly.

I didn't like this. I didn't like that my threats were empty and that he recognised their emptiness. I felt my rage fading. Was I too blame as well for this horror we found ourselves in? Did I really force myself on him? I was an ardent lover, I held nothing back, but this...this was the work of some beast in heat. Something so overcome with lust so as not to recognise their own offspring.

'So, do it.'

He picked his phone up and inputted three nines. He handed it over to me. I looked at the screen and those figures up there just waiting to dialled and called through. I hesitated and he took the phone off me. He took a step forward and I backed away. I kept backing away until I bumped into his door. I turned to leave but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back in.

'I'll scream,' I said in a timid voice. He kept clutching my wrist as he shut the door behind me.

'How are you going to scream...when your mouth is full?' he asked. He had this strange look in his eyes, a detachment I had never seen from him before. The boy I knew, the sweet, shy and kind boy was not present and in his place was a brooding and rough man. He placed his other hand on my shoulder and pushed me to the ground. It was an out of body experience.

I couldn't be sure I was resisting because I was on my knees before I even knew what was happening. He jammed me up against the door. His erection strained against the tight fabric of his shorts. It flapped above my forehead and I closed my eyes in the vain hope that it would disappear and this would be all over.

I heard him chuckle in amusement. He was mocking me. I opened my eyes and he leered down in triumph. I was scared but it was a thrilling fear, a fear of fever and anticipation. I had already surrendered. James released my wrist and placed his hands on his hips aiming his erection at me.

'Pull them down,' he commanded.

I hesitated and looked to the window. Mark would still be outside in the garden. What if he came in though? What if he came looking for me?

'Don't worry about Dad. He'll be out there till evening.'

He was right. It was terrifying in a way. How deeply oblivious people could be to the things that were happening in such close vicinity to them. I could be here for hours.

'I won't ask you again,' he said with a firmer voice.

I took a big gulp and my placed my hands on the hem of the shorts. My breathing

was ragged. I had never felt so utterly captive and helpless. I had never known such abandon. The shorts came down. His penis snapped free and sprung forward. I had the vague recollection of if it being big but not this big. Length-wise it must have been seven or eight inches but it had the thickest girth of any appendage I had ever seen.

A slick rivulet of pre-cum oozed from the glans. The smell was intoxicating. I breathed it in and savoured it. The other night was a dream. I recalled it only in hazy snatches without detail or minutiae. It was a testament to how drunk I was that I did not fully recognise this magnificent specimen. My throat quivered. It didn't seem possible that I had been able to take all of James's penis into my mouth.

More memories came back to me. His hands on the back of my head forcing me further and further down. My eyes streaming with tears as I slid closer to the base of his penis. My tongue somehow sliding out over my lip and reaching for his balls. He grabbed the head of his penis and leaned forward. I froze in position unable to move.

He drew his penis down across my forehead, past the bridge of my nose and lips and all the way down to my chin leaving a trail of pre-cum on my skin. I shuddered and my nipples hardened. I worried that he would see them.

I was wet. So wet that I knew if he stripped my sweatpants from me he would be able to see the expanding patch of moisture forming in my panties. He started to pump his cock. It was slow and rhythmic and I was utterly transfixed by it. His balls were smooth and shaven. They were as engorged as the rest of him. Another memory. I had sucked them. First one, then the other and finally I had lumped them both into my hungry mouth. I had licked all around them, from the base of the shaft all the way to the edge of his anus.

Yes, I remember had lifted his leg up over my shoulder and placed it on the table. James had not been exaggerating. It probably was the best blowjob he had ever had. An unwelcome thought struck me. I was sober and nervous. The me from a couple of nights ago was someone completely different. A frenzied sex-harpy so desperate for cock she had hunted down her own son. I realised that I wasn't scared of what he was about to do to me.
No, I was scared of disappointing him. It was such a lewd thought that it tipped me over the edge. I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. With Mark, I liked to tease. I preferred to start with my fingers and then use my tongue to trace around the shaft and head of his penis. I liked to start with light touches before graduating onto the heavy stuff.

This was different. With James I tried to fill my mouth with as much of him as possible. I got just over halfway before I started to gag. I coughed and spluttered and James withdrew. I caught my breath and looked up at him. He placed his hands either side of my head.

'Open,' he instructed.

I gulped and did as he told me.

He slowly began fucking my mouth. My head bobbed backward and hit against the door with each thrust. His pace quickened and my head banged harder against the door. He stopped and pulled out. I gasped for air and he lifted his balls up. I looked up at him and there was an animal lust in his eyes. I slurped at his balls, using my tongue to explore every fold of skin.

I worked my way up to the base of his cock and pulled the head down to suck on the glans. There was so much pre-cum. I worked my tongue over the head of his cock and followed the vein back down to his balls. He moaned softly and it stirred me on. I tried deepthroating again. I placed my hands on his backside and pushed him into me.

It was so big but I pushed harder and harder unto I felt that I would suffocate. I coughed and waited. It was the most surreal few seconds of my life. Here I was, on my knees, trying to catch my breath so I could recommence deepthroating my son and there he was, looming over me, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

We shared a look and it was elation. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe how much we both wanted it. This is what he must have felt the other night.

This feeling that he could not resist. I took him back in my mouth. I had abandoned the hope of being able to fit all of him in.

I sucked and lavished his cock with my saliva. It was sloppy and wet and droplets of my saliva dripped onto my knees and his feet. He moaned and I knew he was near. I increased my suction and cupped his balls. They started to quiver and I tensed to receive him.

He grunted and the first spurt shot out and hit the back of my throat. Then more came. More and more until I lost count and I almost choked again. I knelt there with his cock and cum in my mouth until I was absolutely sure there was nothing more to come. He delicately pulled his softening cock from my mouth. It plopped out, still covered with our juices. I swallowed and the last of his cum slipped down my throat.

He opened the door for me. I was still on the floor, his cum dripping from my chin and onto the carpet. I struggled to my feet and walked out. He closed the door behind me. I gingerly walked to the bathroom and locked the door. I tried to avoid the mirror, but I had to look. I had to see who exactly this person was who had been deepthroating her own son for the past ten minutes.

It was me, unsurprisingly. My hair was tousled and uneven. Thick locks were out of place from where he had grabbed my head and forced me to take more of him in my mouth. There were trails of cum around my mouth and all the way down my neck. My chin was coated with a sticky mixture of his cum and my saliva. My lipstick had smeared where he had run his cock over my lips. My eyes had teared up a little but they were not unhappy.

In fact, to my own disgust, I looked rather pleased with myself. I turned the tap on and brushed my hair back into place. I splashed hot water over my face and wiped the cum away. It took a few minutes to make myself presentable. Even then I spent even longer in front of the mirror checking every last hair to ensure that no evidence remained from my loss of self-control. Was it my fault? I could have done all of the things I threatened.

It would have ruined our family but at least I could look myself in the mirror without having to check I had removed all of my son's ejaculate from my face and neck. I could have kicked him in the balls and rushed out. Those wonderful, heavy balls. Filled with his delicious cum. I could still taste it in my mouth. I ran my tongue across my teeth. I didn't want to cleanse my palate. I wanted to lick the roof of my mouth and be able to taste it.

I checked my blouse. There was still splotches of cum around the neckline. I removed it and stared at the largest stain. I stuck my tongue out and licked at it. I was so wet. James had not touched me. Of course he had ravaged my face and mouth with his cock but he had not really touched me. He left my breasts alone and didn't even consider attempting to feel for my pussy. It had been strictly everything above the neck. I should have been grateful, but I felt regret and disappointment. I had to get out.

I retired to my bedroom and changed. I threw my blouse and the towel into the corner of my cupboard like pieces of evidence to be disposed of. I thought of Mark and finally I felt a pang of conscience. I sat down on the bed and confronted my misdeed. I had allowed my son to abuse me whilst his father was a hundred or so yards away.

My poor, sweet, loving, blissfully ignorant husband. I had made him a cuckold. With our own son, no less. There had been opportunities before. Other temptations with other men but I had always resisted the urge, no matter how strong. And now finally I had succumbed in the worst possible way. I hurried downstairs and grabbed my car keys.

I had to get out. Get far away from this house and the menfolk inside. I had betrayed both of them in a way. I got in my car and drove. I was on autopilot, following a subconscious route that could have led me anywhere. When I eventually stopped it was a quiet car park. There was no-one close. I placed both hands on the steering wheel. I glanced in the rear view mirror and for a second I expected James to be there. Sat in the backseat with his shorts pulled down and his erection waiting for me.

I unzipped my trousers and slipped my hand inside. It didn't take long. As I fingered myself to an incredible orgasm I realised why I had gone for a drive. I needed somewhere secluded. Somewhere away from him. I couldn't risk him hearing my cries of joy. I didn't want him to hear my shame. The loud, ecstatic shame of pleasure. I couldn't be sure but it felt like the car shook.

I pulled my hand out astonished at how soaked and slippery my fingers were. There were no tissues in the car. I wiped my fingers clean on my trousers. More evidence that needed to addressed. I tipped my head back into the rest and waited until my breathing returned to normal. I felt light-headed and at ease.

As if a burden had been lifted when in fact the opposite were true. The burden was still there and it was slowly crushing me. I started the car and then realised I had no idea where I was. I inputted my home address into the GPS and set off. I wound the window down to air out the scent of my pussy from the car.

Part 8

The pizza was cold by the time I got back. I told Mark I had gone to run an errand. It was his birthday soon and he bought the flimsy excuse as my way of saying I had gone to arrange his gift. He couldn't be more wrong, I thought bitterly. I had actually gone to bring myself off after having spent the afternoon blowing our son.

James was in the kitchen finishing off his meal. He seemed...normal. We chatted briefly and it was like the events of a few hours ago had not happened. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

I realised I was disappointed and it scared me. Disappointed that my son had so savagely used me for me his own delights and now seemingly relegated me back to my traditional position as his mother. It was a dangerous thought, I knew. If I wasn't satisfied just being his mother, then what did that mean? I managed a slice or two of pizza and plodded upstairs to bed. I was exhausted. It felt like several different seismic events were catching up to me. Mark was in bed reading a gardening book.

I washed and changed and climbed into bed. I checked my phone. A few messages from friends but nothing pressing. I dropped James a text. He was still downstairs. I saw that he read it but there was no answer. I pouted. What game was he playing? I heard him coming up the stairs half an hour later. Still no response. I checked my nightstand. Almost 10pm. Thankfully it was a bank holiday. Mark and I had standing plans to visit his parents in the morning.

I almost wanted to cancel and say I was still tired but I didn't want arouse suspicion. I felt guilty at harbouring this secret. Having to make excuses and concoct lies to keep it hidden. It was only a day or two old and already it was prompting me to be dishonest to my husband. I had no other choice. The truth would destroy him. Finally, James responded. I had merely asked if he was ok and now, two hours later he answered in the affirmative.

He sent through another message. Another apology. He was happy to forget this weekend. A 'Vegas weekend' he referred to it as. If I could forgive and forget then so could he. I was baffled. He didn't seem sorry earlier today. He seemed in control and assured and without regrets of any shape or form. And what had transpired between us most certainly could not be filed away under 'Vegas weekend'. I didn't know how to answer.

There was only one answer and I could not bring myself to type it out. I could not answer with conviction. My fingers hovered over the text box. Just three simple letters. Put it behind us. Never have to worry about Mark or the police or anyone else discovering our sordid actions. I typed 'we'll talk more' and put my phone on the nightstand. When I closed my eyes all I could see was his hand grabbing my wrist.

Part 9

I woke earlier and felt the best I had in days. My body had finally processed the alcohol. My mind was still struggling to process everything else. Mark and James were already out of the house when I woke up. I panicked for a moment that for whatever reason James had confessed everything to his father and they had killed each other in a fit of passion. I saw that the garage was open. They had gone for a bike ride. I made myself breakfast and waited for them to return.

We were due at Mark's parents in an hour or so. I felt glad to get out of the house. There was an odd tingle in my belly whenever I walked past James's door or looked out on the garden. The garden table in particular. The security light wasn't working and I had been nagging Mark to fix it for a while. I supposed I should be grateful that the darkness covered James and I in the early hours of Saturday morning. I wondered what he would have done if it had been working.

If he would have called everything off or simply found a more convenient location to continue the blowjob from his mother. I had been blackout drunk before but never so drunk to confuse my son for my husband and then indulge my carnal desires. Had someone slipped me something in the bar? It was academic now. The first occasion I may have been forgiven for, but yesterday I had yielded to him meekly.

A little lamb begging to be saved from the slaughterhouse. He knew it as well. He saw my weakness and he devoured it. The door cracked open and my two men walked into the house. I greeted them breezily and they shouted back. I felt so forced. As though my normal persona as faithful wife and dutiful mother was an undercover identity that I was having to work hard to maintain.

'I'll grab a quick shower and then we'll head off, Janey,' Mark called.

'Ok, hun. I'm ready whenever you are.'

Mark jogged up the stairs while James entered the kitchen and grabbed the carton of orange juice. I felt like I was on tenterhooks. He took a draught from the carton and stared at me.

'What?' I hissed.

'No...it's just...you normally tell me off for drinking from the carton, Mum. You always tell me to get a glass.'

'So, get a glass,' I snapped.

He sighed.

'That's not the point.'

'Then what is the point, James?'

'I'm happy to let this go, Mum. Get back to normal. This is what normal looks like. You ticking me off for doing stuff that annoys you. You look like a hen trapped in the coop when the fox sneaks in.'

It was actually an appropriate analogy for how I felt but I didn't dare tell him that.

'Ok...I'll forget it as well. It might...it might take a little while.'

'That's ok. Take all the time you need. If you want to let this go, then I will too.'

I frowned.

'What...does that mean?'

He smiled and took another swig from the carton. He stood there in his cycling shorts and shirt, sweat beading his face and the sunlight shining behind him.

'Exactly what it sounds like, Mum.'

He left the kitchen and walked up the stairs with a swagger.

I felt my heart unclench as he left. 'If you want to let this go, then I will too.' He probably thought he was being subtle or maybe he didn't care. He was trying to leave the final decision to me. Decision on what though? He had put his finger directly on the issue whereas I was still skirting around it. I didn't want to say it. I couldn't. Mark skipped down the stairs jangling his car keys. I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever it was, I could put it off for a few hours at least.

We spent half the day with Mark's parents. They took us out to the pub for lunch and I started to feel my old self again. They asked about James and I rambled on about how well he was doing at work and how proud we were of him. I felt like I was talking about my son again and not the unapologetic bastard I had had to contend with over the past few days.

We had afternoon tea and then took our leave. I felt nervous again as we pulled into our driveway. Would this feeling ever pass? I didn't want to feel like this. Like frightened prey in my own home. James had gone out for another bike ride. I whipped up some rice and vegetables for him to eat when he got back and headed to my study.

Bank holidays were great until you realised it was just another day when the work piled up and you couldn't get at it.

I switched on my laptop and began charting the week ahead. James came in an hour later. He didn't normally bother me when I was in my study and this was no different. A message came through thanking me for the food. I replied with a smiling emoji. Perhaps there was still the chance to forget. After the summer, James would be heading off to university. I had been dreading the departure but now the deadline was almost a salvation.

If I could get through the next few months then there was the possibility of forgetting. Repressing it into the deepest recesses of my mind and never mentioning it ever again. It was almost the end of June and he would be gone by the beginning of September. I felt guilty at hoping for his swift exit, but I knew it was the best for both of us. I turned my laptop off and headed to bed. I checked my phone again.

No new messages. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. James had left the ball in my court. I turned away from Mark and googled 'mother and son relationships'.

I felt so idiotic typing it out. Again, I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen. A raft of scholarly articles on how they were healthy and had no adverse impacts? I didn't want to type 'incest'. I was kidding myself and I knew it. James was happy to continue.

Of course he was. I could barely ascribe a name to it, but here I was searching the internet for validation or explanation, I really didn't know. I found a link to a newspaper article about a mother who had given her son up at birth and how they had found each other thirty years later.

They had then begun a relationship and for some reason wanted to share that with the world. They looked happy. Content. I scrubbed my search history and put my phone away. The answer was obvious to me now, but I delayed it. I closed my eyes and placed my naïve faith in a good night's sleep persuading me otherwise.

Part 10

James was ready on time in the morning. We exchanged good mornings as we walked out to the car. I was nervous. He seemed quiet but that was a typical morning for him. He yawned as he slotted his seat belt in. I hoped the car did not still smell of my cum. We set off and reached the office in good time. I kept the radio on to avoid conversation. We wished each other a good day and headed to our respective desks.

There was some office gossip around the activities of Friday night, but thankfully I did not figure largely in it. By all accounts I had been merry and boisterous but not offensively so. The irony was my worst excesses occurred after I had reached home but I neglected to mention this to anyone. Work was busy which came as a relief.

My mind found something else to occupy it and I focused on the briefs and memos that piled up on my desk. It was lunch before I knew it. I decided to work through rather than seeing James. I finished on time at 5 and like clockwork he was there on the dot and ready to leave. He was more talkative on the way back.

Mostly office gossip and the plans he was making for the weekend. It was incredible in a way. I envied his self-restraint. He must have wanted to discuss other things as much as I did, but he put on a good show of pretending otherwise.

By the same token, he had already had his say. His counter-offer was on my desk and awaiting an enthusiastic approval or polite decline.

It had actually come to this. I was being held hostage by my nineteen year old son. The ransom was my mouth and possibly other parts of my body. Yes, it was Stockholm syndrome. I was sympathising with my hostage taker. I was coming around to his point of view and what had driven him to such extreme measures.

Mark was home when we arrived. He had cooked a fish stew that was waiting for us on the kitchen table. I kissed him. He probably thought it was out of gratitude but it was also out of guilt. I could never erase this guilt I knew. Dinner was a low key affair. James and I were tired from work and Mark already had one eye on the garden throughout.

I washed the dishes and headed to my study. It felt like it was the only refuge I had in the whole world. I couldn't focus on work. It was easier in the office with the bustle of other people but here in the solitude of my study it was nigh on impossible. I opened google up and typed in 'mother son incest' and then deleted it.

I found the article I had been reading last night. The latest update on them was that they had gone into hiding after publication as the police had opened an investigation into their claims. It was pretty obvious, really.

I wasn't sure what they had expected when they revealed themselves to the world. The article was one of the first results in google. That must have meant it was popular. They were the picture of happiness in the photo. They sat together on a couch, holding hands and beaming from ear to ear. It was so hot. I felt my pussy twitching. I snapped the laptop shut and placed my forehead against it. The cool plastic of the lid soothed my brow.

I opened it up again and deleted my search history. I didn't know who to turn to. It was crazy. I knew what a responsible, sensible adult would do in the same situation and somehow I was not following that protocol. I gave up on trying to do anything productive and headed up to bed. I was reading a book when Mark came in. He closed the door behind him and draped himself over the bed. He grabbed my feet and started stroking and caressing them.

'I'm about to hop in the shower. Care to join me?'

'I'm a little tired sweetie. Maybe tomorrow?'

'Alright,' he said with a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

'It's my birthday soon as well, I'll expect it adding on to that.'
I chuckled and bent over to kiss him. I had completely forgotten and still didn't have a gift. As he stepped into the shower I added a reminder to my phone to get something tomorrow. Normally I wouldn't have needed a reminder. Normally I would have gladly joined him in the shower. The last week had changed me in ways I was beginning to dislike.

The truth was, when he touched my feet with his fingers I just didn't feel anything. No stirring of arousal or desire. It shocked me that my body was shifting its tastes and appetites so quickly. Last week I had been having enjoyable sex with my husband and now I was desperately trying not to masturbate to examples of mother son incest.

I buried my head into the pillow. I wanted to blame James. He was the patient zero who had infected me with this depraved curiosity. And I didn't want to get better. I wanted to stay like this and revel in my affliction. The image of the mother-son couple flashed in my head and I found myself becoming wet. I knew I should masturbate. It would be a release if nothing else. But I didn't want to risk it in front of Mark. I had just turned him down for sex and could only imagine his reaction if he then found me fingering my sopping cunt as he stepped out of the shower. I turned my lamp off and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Part 11

I dreamed of James and Mark. They were out on a bike ride and I was running behind them. I was naked and wearing high heels. Every time I thought that I was close to catching them, they would speed off again. I shouted and cried but to no avail. I woke up before my alarm went off. The first thing that sprung to mind was James's proposal.

'If you want to let this go, then I will too.'

Was it a proposal or perhaps a subtle ultimatum? There was no deadline attached to it. He had not mentioned it since. I was the one doing all the running around. I thought back to the second time. The moment our eyes had met. He must have seen something in me. Something that told him I was hooked. I needed to get off. I couldn't think of anywhere that would be a quiet place for me to do that. I didn't trust myself anymore to even masturbate with a modicum of self-control.

'If you want to let this go, then I will too.'

I hated him. I hated him for what he had reduced me to. He was so smug, confident and...much to my horror...he was right. I did not want to let this go. This...incest. I wanted more. I was going to hell and taking my only child but I wanted more of this feeling. It was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was a thrill, a racing, palpitating shock that I could not let go of.

Just a short while ago I was ready to tell my husband and the police. I was ready to make a criminal complaint. Now, not only had I forgiven, I was looking to reward him. I was looking for further violation.

Yes, James. I want this. I walked to the bathroom and lay down on the bath mat. My breathing was shallow. I felt like I had in James's room when he had pinned me against the door. I unlocked my phone. My fingers trembled over the last messages I had exchanged with my son. A smiley emoji.

I didn't know what to type. He wasn't even awake and here I was trying to draft a message that signalled that I, his mother, agreed to his proposal to explore our budding sexual relationship further. There was no emoji for that. I locked my phone and got up. I felt like I was going out of my mind. I thought about slipping into James's room and waking him up with a blowjob. It was mad and I knew there was no way I could do it. Not with Mark so close by. I summoned every last ounce of self-control I had.

No, if this was going to happen then there needed to be rules. There needed to be a framework for...I could barely bring myself to say it...our incestuous relationship. I felt a spark in my stomach. I didn't hate the word anymore. It was enticing, seductive, dangerous. I suddenly imagined myself and James sat on a couch, holding hands and smiling for the camera. Yes, there was no doubt. I was going quite mad. I walked into my room and watched over my sleeping husband.

I pulled the covers back and stroked at his cock through his briefs. After more coaxing it rose to attention and I pulled off his underwear. He awoke in time to watch me start blowing him. He smiled and let out a contented sigh. Mark was probably average in size. It was not a penis to write home about, but it fulfilled the purpose that it was designed for...most times. I couldn't help but compare it to James. I could fit Mark into my mouth comfortably.

It didn't take long for the telltale twitching of his toes and he came with a sharp grunt. I went to the bathroom to spit it out. As I did, I felt foolish. James was right. This wasn't me being normal. Typically, I would have swallowed without a second thought, but this time I couldn't wait to remove Mark's cum from my mouth. I stalked back into the bedroom hoping he wouldn't question me. He took me in his arms and we kissed.

'What a lovely way to start the morning,' he cooed.

'Well, I just wanted to make up for last night,' I told him.

He grinned and held me close. I felt relieved. He didn't seem to notice anything.

He couldn't tell that I had decided to do this now rather than have to sleep with him later that evening. I had turned our sex life into a chore. Something that had to be done as a dull but necessary maintenance. I was one of those spouses now.

I knew the path that lay ahead. I would come to resent him and become bitter and reproachful. All because I had changed and he had not. I had not bargained for this.

I had not conceived that I would be lying here wrestling with my desires for my own flesh and blood. We lay there holding each other until my alarm went off.

That morning James had a late start so I headed to the office alone. It was a quieter morning than before and I found my mind wandering to places it really shouldn't have. I checked my phone every five minutes for another message from James, but the days old smiley emoji was still there. At lunch I headed out to do some shopping.

I bought Mark's birthday present first. A small concession, made out of guilt. I spent more than I normally would have done. I bought him several gifts, in fact. Including tickets to a horticulture show in London. I bought Friday and Saturday tickets knowing in some small part that I would likely make excuses to try and avoid coming on the Friday.

Once that was out of the way, I could concentrate on the real shopping and planning. I applied for a credit card in my maiden name with just my initial as a first name. It would be delivered to work. All my existing banking was in joint names. I couldn't risk transactions showing up anywhere on those statements that would provoke scrutiny from Mark. I bought two burner phones and walked out of the shop feeling like a drug dealer.

I set them both up with VPNs and covered the camera. I set up a Paypal account, again in an altered version of my name, to pay off the credit card. I would send money to James on a regular basis anyway. Now I would ask him to send some of that back to me via Paypal. It was all illicit tradecraft. Preparation for a journey that could never see the light of day.

I would never be as foolish as the couple that had outed themselves. There was too much at stake. The calculation did not stack up. There was so much to lose on one hand. My husband and wider family. My job. Reputation. Even liberty potentially. All of that was weighed against James. Against the trembling in my stomach and the heat in my loins as I spent the day planning for our eventual consummation. I was shaking as I got back to my desk. I had several bags of shopping, but I kept looking through the same one. It was like checking luggage before embarking on the trip of a lifetime. The thought excited me. I knew this was my answer.

An emphatic, palpitating yes. When I reached home, James was in the garage checking the gears on his bike. My heart leaped when I got out and saw him. He smiled and walked over to help me with my shopping bags.

'Did you leave anything in the shops, Mum?' he asked.

I felt a sliver of pleasure at knowing the contents of the special bag. I felt like I was planning a surprise for him and he was actually helping me facilitate that. I told him they were for his father's birthday and to keep them hidden in the garage. I took my secret bag upstairs with me but then freaked out thinking about how Mark could discover it and ask some very awkward questions.

I had thought I was so clever, like a professional spy pulling the wool over her dozy spouse. I tried to think of where I could keep it that would be out of his purview, but every possibility seemed obvious and blatant. I thought about giving it to James for safe-keeping. But that would mean explaining why I had bought them. It would mean revealing the plan to my co-conspirator.

Mark was late home. I texted to see where he was. He replied saying he was caught up at work and would be at least another hour. I studied his last message intently. It almost felt like the omen I had been waiting for. I would tell James. About what I wanted. About how we could act on the impulses that had brought us together as long as we agreed to be safe and be discreet. I felt a little delirious when I realised I was actually going to do it.

Part 12

He was downstairs in the lounge when I entered with the secret bag. I sat on the lounger opposite him and asked him what he watching.

'Nothing really. Just channel-surfing. Did you want to watch something in particular?'

'No...it's just...this is a strange question...but is there a microphone on the doorbell camera?'

'Uh...I don't know. Why?'

'Oh...for some reason I just wondered if it could hear what we were saying. Or if the TV could hear what were saying.'

James looked at me as though I was undergoing some form of psychotic break.

'Um...I'm not sure. You think people are listening in?'

'Well...could you turn the volume up?'

He tapped on the remote whilst maintaining his air of bemusement. I didn't know why that fear popped into my head. It felt like the whole world was suddenly eavesdropping in on us. The volume was better. I felt like it would drown out what I had to say but we could still speak without shouting. James sat on the sofa looking at me expectantly.

'James. I was thinking about the past week.'

He raised an eyebrow. I felt under pressure. Like I was being auditioning for a part I wanted very badly.

'I accept that things happened. Maybe they shouldn't have. Well, they definitely shouldn't have, but here we are.'

I could sense a disappointment coming over him.

'You're my son. My only child. You know I love you. You know your father and I love you and would never do anything to hurt you.'

He nodded in a rather abject fashion. I tried not to smile. I was enjoying this. I was enjoying teasing him.

'We can't go backwards. We have to carry on as a family. I don't want anything to spoil the life we have all built here. It's special to me. You...are special to me.'

I rustled the bag at my feet.

'I don't want to.' I said.

He looked confused.

'What?'

'I don't want to let this go.'

His jaw dropped. The façade crumbled. All this time I had been convinced he was the master tactician, hiding behind an iron will and poker face, but the sheer astonishment and excitement on his face at that moment was a sight to behold.

'Wow...' he murmured.

'I never...' he started but did not finish.

I grinned and brushed my hair back. I felt underdressed. I was just in an old sweatshirt and trousers. I should have worn a dress, I thought. But that would have been too obvious. I would have missed this wonderful look of joy and anticipation in his eyes.

'I know...it...I can't explain it. It's just...'

'Consumed you,' he finished.

'Yes.'

'That...that's how I felt that night, Mum. It was like nothing else. I still can't describe it.'

We looked at each other, kindred in our lust.

'Wow,' he said again.

I laughed.

'Is that all you're going to say?'

'I..I honestly don't know what else to say, Mum. This is just...incredible. Um...I mean...how does this work?'

'Well...we should...we should put down some ground rules first. I think that's the best place to start. If we can agree on everything then we'll know that we both want this.'

'Jesus.'

'What?'

'Just hearing you say that...it's so hot.'

He fiddled with his shorts.

'Your father won't be long.'

'I know...I'm just...wow.'

'I was thinking we could spend some time together on Friday to prepare.'

'Uh, sure. When were you thinking?'

'I'll be working from home on Friday. Your father is on a late shift so he won't be back till 7 or 8. But...I don't want to push that deadline. Do you think you could leave a little earlier on Friday afternoon?'

'If they say no, then I'll quit!'

We both laughed.

'Ok...I know it's going to be difficult to wait till then, but it's a good test for both of us. If we are going to go ahead with this then we need to be disciplined and discreet.'

He nodded.

'Great. Ok, well...I will leave you to your various channels.'

I walked out clutching the bag. I walked to my car and hid it as best I could in my boot. Mark arrived soon after that. We all had dinner together. It was much more animated than the previous night. James and I laughed and joked and Mark even chipped in with the odd terrible Dad joke.

I hoped he didn't see the glances James and I were exchanging. I noticed my son turning his gaze to my chest and I also spied on his broad shoulders and muscled arms. After dinner, Mark was tired and headed up to bed. I felt awful but I knew this was a guarantee he would not ask for sex that night. James went for a bike ride so I sat in the conservatory nursing a glass of wine and browsing on my phone. I heard the ding of a message from James.

He had forwarded me a message from his boss, Alison. He had requested to leave early on Friday. She had asked why and if there was any way he could re-arrange whatever plans he had that necessitated an early finish. James messaged again asking if I had a resignation template he could use. I sent back a laughing emoji and said I would talk to Alison.

It would just be a couple of hours. It's not like he was an indispensable part of the business. My need was greater than theirs.

I composed the message to Alison. She was the head of the department that James worked in. I was friendly with Ally and indeed, she had helped James get the job based on my recommendation. I sat staring at the screen. I was not normally so reticent. But every message now seemed to take on a different meaning. There was the message itself and then there was the lie it was hiding. If I could have typed the truth, it would have read,

'Hi Ally! Hope you are well, know you guys are mega-busy at the moment. I hate to ask but could you possibly do me a big favour? I was hoping James could leave a couple of hours early on Friday if possible? Not sure if you know, but we have recently commenced an incestuous relationship and I was hoping to spend some time with him on Friday exploring this further while his father is still at work. I would really appreciate it if you could spare him for a couple of hours so we can indulge in our forbidden passion.'

In the end, I tried to use Mark's birthday as the excuse. I knew Ally would accede but only for a couple of hours. That was all I needed. For now. She responded quickly and, as expected, she agreed. I had made her an accomplice to our basest yearnings. I forwarded the message to James who replied with several smiling emojis. I wanted more. I wanted to hand him the burner phone now. I wanted his response to be lewd and crude. I wanted to hear the ding of the message receipt noise and read out his plans for what we were going to do. Smiley emojis did nothing for me.

Part 13

I woke up in the middle of the night. I'd been having another dream about James. He was on death row. His head was being shaved before he was taken to the electric chair. But instead of the chair there was just the garden table. He laid out over it and just started shaking. I checked the time. 4am. Too late to go back to sleep. I looked at the calendar on my phone. No appointments showing until Monday. Mark's birthday. There was an engagement I had planned for tomorrow even if it was not official. What sort of person was I?

I was going to do things with my son tomorrow. Things that no mother should do. Things that set my pulse racing and sent my pussy into a state of electric shock. I thought I would have more doubts than this. I thought that my conscience would take a metaphorical grip of me and slap me around. But nothing. My mind and body had reached a consensus. This was going to happen and to hell with the consequences.

One more day. I was like a child opening up the final door on my advent calendar. Tomorrow would be Christmas. I wondered if James was as nervous and excited as I was. It certainly seemed like it yesterday evening. His confidence was not on display yesterday. He was like a Jekyll and Hyde character with me. The polite and courteous Mr Jekyll when we were with everyone else, but when it was just the two of us...trapped in the same enclosed space...he was Mr Hyde. He took what he wanted and he did as he wanted.

My heart trilled at the prospect even though I had no idea how tomorrow would actually turn out. I could not imagine it being a staid affair even though I had to go through the rules. I showered and got changed. I couldn't stay at home anymore. I didn't want to see James. I wanted our anticipation to be heightened through absence. I drove to the office. It was not even 6am.

I texted Mark to say I had gone to the gym. I sent another text to James apologising for the lack of lift and that I would see him later. It was deserted at work. I locked myself into the disabled toilets and started masturbating. All I could think about was tomorrow. D-day. A million and one things could happen. The boiler could explode. The roof could blow off. There could be a mini-tornado in our back garden. None of those things mattered though.

All that mattered was that I was going to spend the afternoon in the firm hands of my son. I came hard and bucked on the seat. I used half the toilet roll in cleaning up after myself. I only hoped that no-one else was in the office and had heard my screech of passion. I knew it was loud.

I got to my desk at 7am and logged on. My little escapade in the toilet had relaxed me and I actually felt like taking on some work. Soon it was 8am and the customary hubbub of the office started up. Mark texted me to say 'no problem' and James sent through a winking emoji. I wasn't sure if he knew the exact reason I had left the house early.

Sometimes I gave him too much credit, but then at moments like this I marvelled at how well he knew me. I thought of what he said that day in the park. How I had instinctively moved into position to allow him to pound my mouth with his cock. Did he just instinctively read me? I would find out soon, I told myself. My credit card arrived in the post. I was concerned it might not reach me due to being addressed to my maiden name, but I had left specific instructions around the delivery and it arrived without hitch.

Two cards in total. Mine would be the main one and an additional card for James. Our incest expenses. The thought made me dizzy as I looked at the cards. The foreign almost unrecognisable name that few people would know me by. Yes, this person was my alter ego. If James had one then I could have one as well. The name on the card, she was the brazen hussy who plotted to bed her son. It wasn't me. I could understand the thrill of an affair now.
The sex was almost secondary to the sordidness of it. The inescapable feeling that I was doing something so wrong was like an aphrodisiac. I wanted to fill each of my senses with it. Lunch came and went. I messaged James to say we should try and avoid each other today. I started typing out, 'let's save ourselves for tomorrow,' before deleting it. I was at the stage where the burner phones would be safer. I knew Whatsapp was encrypted and it was unlikely anyone would discover us from those messages but I just didn't want to take that chance.

I didn't want even the remotest possibility of either one of us sending the wrong message to the wrong person in error on in the throes of passion. The burner phones were part of my incest toolkit. They would be used for this and only this side of us. They would know only one contact, they would receive no voice mails and they would store no photos. The first transaction on my credit card was loading up the phones with credit.

I fantasised what the other expenditure would be. There were so many possibilities. I put James's burner into a jiffy bag. I enclosed the additional card I had ordered for him as well, then sealed it and dropped it into the internal mail. It would reach him before the end of the day. I sent him a message. 'Please open the mail in a private place. Follow instructions!'. He read it and sent back a thumbs up. I wondered if he thought there was something racy in there. My underwear perhaps. I smiled at the thought of him opening the package and finding something much more prosaic inside.

I turned my burner on and waited. It was almost the end of the day before the message came through. The first message was James apologising. He said it took him a while to get some privacy to open the package. Then he said it took him another half an hour to read all my instructions! I wanted to be as comprehensive as possible. In my note I explained why I had purchased the burners and how they would be operated going forward. He said he felt guilty carrying a second phone and using it as well. It was a fair comment.

It was probably harder for a guy to be discreet with it. I could just hide the burner in the recesses of my bag and use it without anyone noticing. It was more apparent if a guy pulled a different phone from his pocket. I made a note to order four phone covers. We would put them on both phones and make it harder to distinguish the difference. The main thing was using them at home. In my instructions I underlined exactly where and when we could use them.

They were to be hidden in our rooms and only used for emergencies if Mark was at home. It probably sounded antithetical, but I had figured we would use them more at work and if we were out. I was curious about what emergency might trigger their use at home, sexual or otherwise. The past week had felt like an emergency. A blaring alarm sounding in my head and now it was just a faint beep in the background. James said he was staying late to cover for his leaving early tomorrow and it would be tomorrow afternoon when we 'could carry on where we left off'.

I stared at the message with a longing in my pussy. I thought about another trip to the disabled toilets but knew I was unlikely to get away with it a second time that day. I replied with 'can't wait' and turned the burner off.

Mark was home when I got there. He seemed a little downbeat so I asked him about his day and he reeled off a list of grievances from work. I kissed him and unbuckled his trousers. I jerked him off in the conservatory as he buried his face in my breasts. I helped him clean up and we kissed a little more before he went out to work in the garden. It was a guilt handjob. A stalling tactic. I didn't want to give myself to him. I wanted to save everything for James. I wondered how much longer I could continue this charade.

I would have to sleep with Mark soon or he would definitely start inquiring as to my state of mind. It was odd how their roles were reversing. I was almost beginning to view Mark as a lost child now. He had grazed his knee and I had kissed it better. That was my interpretation of his complaining and my accompanying handjob.

It wasn't sexy for me. I wasn't turned on as he licked at my areola through my blouse. It was perfunctory. Nothing else. In contrast, James was my lover-in-waiting. I had butterflies at the very thought of being in his presence. My body and mind thrilled at the anticipation of our next meeting. I was making plans for him.

For what I could do to please him. How I could make him mine.

I had dinner and went up to bed. I shut the door. I didn't want to see hide nor hair of James until our agreed rendezvous. I kept the burner in the boot of my car. It was the safest place for it now. I checked my cupboard and tried to lay out my outfit for tomorrow. I felt so naughty trying to decide what to wear. It was crazy. What did he want from me? The ravenous slut from the first time? The terrified ingenue from the second time? Maybe a professional woman. Or frustrated housewife. Or lady of leisure scouting for toyboys. Or perhaps...just his mother. The woman who had raised him, nurtured him, cared for him.

The last woman on earth he should have been taking as a lover. In the end I settled for a floral summer dress and some emerald lingerie underneath it. Understated but still sexy. Alluring but formal. I had washed my black dress the day before along with the blouse from Sunday. I looked at my outfit and thought it would soon be joining those previous clothes. Tools in the inevitable seduction of my son.

Part 14

My alarm woke me. It had been a dreamless night for once. The day was here. Had

it been a week already? Last Friday I had woken up to the Old World for the last time. Every day since had been this New World. I couldn't wait to start exploring it. I jumped out of bed. Mark was still asleep. I stroked his head and he stirred. He was my anchor to the Old World. The ballast that kept me rooted in some small and necessary way.

I wanted to say something to him. I wanted to announce that James was waiting for me on the shore. We were going to go skinny dipping and hunt for oysters and hold each under a waterfall. Our son, Mark. And I was going to do nasty things with him. I didn't feel sorry for him anymore. Just a dull sadness that we had broken apart. There was no drifting or slow separation.

James had detonated me free and now I was in the air looking down at what had been holding me down. I didn't know what I would do with them. I couldn't hurt him. He still meant so much to me. I was always the one with the plan. Even now I was scheduling mine and James's incest timetable and already thinking ahead to what I should do with Mark. I heard the door slam and pulled the curtain back to look outside. James was wheeling his bike out of the garage and getting ready to cycle to work. He looked back in my direction and waved. I waved back but I couldn't tell if he saw me.

'Was that James?' Mark yawned.

'Yes. Just heading out to work,' I answered.

'Work? Oh yes, I forgot you're working from home today. Alright for some.'

I chuckled and sat on the bed.

'I've always been the lucky one,' I winked at him.

He rolled over and kissed me. I felt his arm on my waist and I felt a sense of panic.

'Maybe I should call in sick today. We can spend the day in bed...'

I coughed loudly. He must have thought I was scandalised by the suggestion, but I was shocked and scared. This was it. The one variable that could upset my best-laid plans.

'You old hound dog,' I grinned at him.

'Haha. Yeah, still life in me,' he responded.

His other hand rested on my thigh. I froze in place, unsure how to respond. I had not planned for this.

'You're off Monday aren't you? Wouldn't you rather save it for then, birthday boy?'

'Mmm. You make a good point. Birthday sex is always better than sick day sex.'

I leaned in and kissed him.

'You don't know the half of it,' I whispered.

His eyes lit up and he laughed.

'Wow. Ok then. I play by your rules, Janey. I'll be the worst Beastie Boy. No sex till Monday!'

We laughed as he got out of bed. As he closed the bathroom door I collapsed on the bed in anxiety. I knew I would have to provide on my promise on Monday but at least the problem had been postponed for a few days. I could not have him here now. Not today. I would do whatever I had to on Monday, but this afternoon, those precious few hours belonged to James and me. No-one else. I waited till Mark had finished and jumped in the shower.

I thought about staying in there for longer than normal. Forcing him to leave without a goodbye. But that would be cruel. On top of the cruelty I had already planned into my rotation. I stepped out of the shower as he just finished dressing. He checked his watch and kissed my cheek. He rushed downstairs whistling and wished me a good day. I changed into something comfortable. James was due to finish at half 2 meaning he would get here for 3.

I then realised that was by car or public transport and he had taken his bike. Silly boy. It could take up to 70 minutes for him to make his way back from work on two wheels. He had just cut 40 minutes off our hallowed time. I wondered if I should go and pick him up. I went down to the car and grabbed my burner. I turned it on and fired a quick message to him. It was several minutes before he responded.

'Sorry,' he said. 'Couldn't talk.'

I realised the conversation we were about to have was quite innocuous. A mother enquiring about her son and offering him a lift back. It didn't really need the burners, but I wanted us to get into good habits. He apologised and said he hadn't even thought about that.

I asked if he wanted me to come and collect him. He replied with a smiling emoji. The bastard. He knew how hungry I was for this. He sent another message saying he could leave his bike at work and get an Uber back. I accepted his proposal. It saved me a trip and meant I had more time to get ready for him. He said he would be home for 3. I sent several kisses back.

It was 10am and I had done no work. I had opened my laptop up but been stuck staring at the flashing screen for longer than I cared to admit. I was one of the trusted ones. Relied on by the company to be responsible and work from home in a professional manner. Now, not only was I not doing that but I had arranged for another employee to bunk off early so we could enjoy some 'quality time' together. I answered a few emails which took me to 11am. Still four hours to go.

I went upstairs to the bathroom to shave. I ran my razor over my pussy and realised I was doing it for my son. I wanted it to be smooth for him. I almost came on the spot just thinking about it. It was going to be a long four hours. I wandered naked around my bedroom. I crossed the hall and into James's room. That smell. I wanted to feel it in my nostrils. I shut the door and looked at the spot where I had been a few days ago.

I knelt down to see what it was like without him. He was like an eclipse. He blotted everything else out from what I remembered. There was nothing beyond him. He occupied the entirety of known space. I stretched my jaw open trying to imagine his engorged cock pushing me back against the door. If he could see me now, I'm not sure he would have waited till half 2.

I put my comfortable clothes back on and tried to do some work. A flurry of important messages and queries came through and I worried that they would take the whole day and overrun into my allotted incest time. I wondered whether it was a sign from above on top of Mark suggesting he call in sick. A friendly, celestial nudge as if to say...'you know what? This is really not a good idea.' I ignored it and worked to resolve every aspect of the problem that had come through.

In the end I was able to work through lunch and finish everything off by quarter to 2. I wandered upstairs in a strangely sombre mood. The moment was approaching. I had arranged it. Prepared for it. And now...what was it, cold feet? No, I wanted this. I knew that. I was just nervous. Nervous about crossing a threshold I could not walk back over. But, in a way...I already had. We hadn't had sex yet but the desires we had expressed were the same. The purity of our passion was the same. I pulled out the lingerie and the summer dress.

I sat at my dressing table and worked on my makeup. Again, the thought of preparing myself for my son sent me into a lather. I slipped on my emerald bra and panties with sliver trim. I zipped myself into my dress and checked my reflection. I worked on my hair again. I wanted it to flow down past my shoulders and frame my straining bosom. Some heels next even, though they would be kicked off fairly quickly I presumed. I wanted to raise myself higher to meet his first kiss. I settled on some sage green ones that matched my lingerie.

I finished it off with my pearl necklace. The mark of respectability. The pearls dipped into my decolletage like the promise of a treasure at the bottom of the sea. I felt sexy but prim at the same time. Unattainable but slutty. I was his mother but I wanted to be his whore as well. I didn't want there to a line separating the two things. They were not mutually exclusive to me.

I inspected myself in the mirror again and again, trying to be as critical as possible. I straightened every crease, patted down any stray hairs and checked my foundation for gaps. I looked good even if I did say so myself. I knew I would not be a disappointment. I traipsed downstairs already in a haze of longing. I checked my watch. 245pm.

I imagined a manic James trying to calm himself in the taxi. Sitting quietly and having to listen to the driver's babbling whilst trying not to scream at him to smash the pedal. There was no message on the burner. I thought maybe he would send one through to advise he had left but nothing. He wanted me to be waiting in anticipation, unaware of his exact arrival time.

I went into the lounge and sat at the coffee table. I looked over the walls at the photos of James. As a baby, a child and now a young man. I wasn't shocked by them. I didn't recoil at the thought of what I was about to engage in. We were adults, I told myself. Yes, I was his mother, but we had both arrived at this point with as much deliberation as was possible. I heard the key turn in the door and almost fell off my chair. The door creaked open and James walked in. My wonderful, strapping young man.

'Hi,' I blushed.

'Hi,' he answered back.

He dropped his bag to the floor and walked over. He was still in his work suit though the tie had been dispensed with.

'You made it then,' I asked wistfully.

'Oh...well, I had to juggle a few things around. You know, shift a few appointments here and there.'

We grinned at each other.

'You look amazing,' he said hoarsely.

'Oh, this old thing?' I twirled around and posed for his benefit.

'It's incredible. Just...wow, Mum. Wow.'

I got up and took his hands in mine.

'I know, sweetie. I know.'

'Do you...do you mind if I just grab a shower first?'

'No, of course not,' I told him.

'Great. I just...I feel rather tawdry stood next to you. I want to get clean.'

I let him go and he hustled up the stairs. He almost tripped up before he reached the top. I settled back into my chair and waited. I felt a warm glow at his compliments. It was gratifying to still be an object of lust and desire. I wasn't that old, but I was of an age where husbands started to lose interest and turn their gaze towards younger and more nubile models.

I was the exception. It was I who had started to lose interest in Mark and turn my attention elsewhere. I heard the bathroom door open and close and the frantic opening and closing of drawers and cupboards above me. I thought of a freshly scrubbed James preparing himself for me and my juices quickened.

He managed to get down the stairs at a relatively sedate pace. By which I mean he didn't fall down them. He had changed into some chinos and a crisp polo shirt. He smelled divine. I was going to have him, I told myself. I was going to have him soon. He came and sat next to me at the coffee table.

'Our first date,' he mused.

'Yes. I suppose it is. I'm sorry to have to start it with the formalities. Just...just so we're ok with everything.'

He shook his head.

'No. You're right, Mum. We should have a plan. There should be rules.'

'I'm glad you agree.'

'How about...the first rule of incest club is you do not talk about incest club?'

I sniggered and rolled my eyes.

'Be serious,' I said.

'I am being serious,' he grinned. 'It's weird...hearing it out loud.'

'What...incest?'

'Yes,' he answered with a look of hunger in his eyes. I tried to stifle myself.

'Well, obviously no-one can know. I mean the rules of engagement. This...this isn't like any other relationship. There can't be public displays of affection. We're not going to take photos or film each other. We can't elope or run off somewhere.'

'Why not?' he asked.

I couldn't tell if he was being serious.

'Maybe not to start with...but in the future...who knows? Maybe a weekend break. Somewhere on the continent. Where no-one knows or cares who we are.'

He had such an earnest look on his face. It sounded heavenly, but that was an aspiration for later. Right now, we had to focus on the present.

'So...I don't think we should do anything while your father is in the house. It's just too risky.'

'What about if he's in the garden?'

'I...I don't know. We were lucky...last week.'

'We need to tag him with some kind of proximity alert that would make it easier.'

I laughed and then continued. I felt like a spoilsport with my suggestions. Like I was putting up roadblocks on our path of incestuous pleasures. But I knew that one false move could cost us everything. James grumbled and tried to think of solutions to circumvent my rules but I shot them down one by one.

'This is just at the start. As things...progress then we can revisit them. Decide on a risk calculation. The important thing to remember is...we have time. Space as well. Maybe not as much as we would like but enough. Let's see how this works for us.'

I felt like I was a coach giving a motivational speech to his wayward superstar. I wanted James to understand the sacrifice I was making. I wasn't a consolation prize. We agreed the house was the best place as long as Mark was not there. That was sacrosanct. The guest room was the most obvious choice.

Mark rarely went in there and it would be easier to clean up after ourselves. Work was also off limits. Other places would be considered as long as they were vetted first. The burners and cards were to be used exclusively for our secret pastime. If one of us wanted to stop then we just had to say so. I implemented that particular rule. It seemed obvious really. I had no idea how long this would last.

Whether it was a momentary infatuation for both of us or something deeper and stronger. We might burn out by September when James headed off to university. We agreed we would stop if necessary and revert to our normal roles without bitterness or rancour. It sounded easy like a contract being exchanged. But I didn't want to swap ink with him. I wanted to exchange my cum for his. On an immediate and ongoing basis. I checked my watch. It was 430pm. We had been talking when we could have been doing something much more interesting. James laughed when I told him the time.

'When is Dad back?'

'Probably 7 or 8. I'll text to ask in a little while.'

'What about...protection?'

I chapped my lips. I had thought of this. Of course I had. Strange as it sounded I did not figure it into my plans. It was like the final acknowledgement of what was about to happen.
'I'm on the pill. We should be ok,' I answered.

He grinned wolfishly and I beamed back at him. Yes, none of those pesky condoms for me. I wanted to naturally feel every last inch of him.

'Ok...so. Are you ready?'

He stood up and offered his hand out. I uncrossed my legs and took it.

'Where to, mother?'

My heart skipped a beat at the way he pronounced, 'mother'.

'You know where,' I said huskily.

Part 15

He led me out of the living room and up the stairs. It was slow, erotic and I felt like every step I took I was treading on a landmine that would set my pussy off. He pushed open the door to the guest room. We sat on the bed and looked at each other. He moved to kiss me and I met his lips. It was clumsy and we both laughed. We tried again and bumped foreheads.

There's an episode of Friends when Joey and Rachel try to pursue a romantic relationship, but as they sit and try to kiss, Rachel keeps slapping Joey. Not because she doesn't want him, but because it felt weird. It felt alien to their normal relationship. It felt a little like that at the start with James. He was more nervous than I had expected. I could feel his hand shaking against my leg. I stopped to ask him if he was alright. He apologised.

'I'm sorry, Mum. It's just...I feel like you're going to clip me round the back of the

head and tell me off or something.'

I smirked and took his hand in mine.

'No, I think we're well past that, son of mine. If there's any spanking to be done then it won't be me dishing it out.'

He went red and gasped. I laughed at his discomfort. It was the polar opposite to the man from the weekend, but I liked this version as well. I felt like I was deflowering him. And that was just as naughty as him taking me roughly.

'I know it's strange. It might go against everything you know, but it feels good. It feels natural. I'm your mother. You know me as your mother. I want you to know me as a woman as well.'

I pulled him in and we kissed. It was harder this time. More urgent. His tongue mashed against mine as we hungrily tasted each other. His hand moved up my leg, past my waist before settling on my breast. I moaned as he squeezed it. My hand reciprocated. It moved across his chest and down to the warm depths of his groin. He moaned into my mouth and sucked on my tongue. I fell backwards as his bulk settled over me.

His cock dug into my thigh, desperate for release. He ran his fingers through my hair. We kissed as if we were old lovers who had been separated unjustly. Eventually I pushed him back.

'Help me out of my clothes,' I croaked.

He stood and pulled me up. He dipped his head. I put my arms around his neck and we kissed. He placed his hands on my hips and drew me into him. Our tongues met and danced slowly together in our mouths. I could feel his raging hard-on poking me in the stomach like a wonderful promise on the cusp of realisation.

'Unzip me,' I asked.

He brushed my hair away and licked the nape of my neck. His hand felt for the zipper and gently pulled it down. I kicked my heels off as the dress fell to the floor.

'Oh God, Mum. You are unreal. The sexiest thing I have laid eyes on.'

My mouth crinkled in pleasure. I pulled my panties up and adjusted my bra while

James stood and admired.

'Now, you.' I told him.

He ripped off his shirt and could not pull his chinos off quickly enough. I laughed at his impatience.

'We have time, James. We have time.'

'That's what you think, Mum.'

He grabbed me by the waist and locked his lips onto mine. His hands were everywhere. Long, sinuous fingers squeezing my buttocks and massaging my breasts. I reached out for his cock. It was down to its final layer. Its wait would soon be over. It felt so thick and tumescent in my hands. We petted ferociously.

We groped, fondled and pawed at every part of our bodies. I unhooked my bra and he buried himself in my breasts. He slurped at the nipples as I pulled him in closer to me. His hand felt at my panties. They were so wet now. I held his wrist as he rubbed against the damp silk. He kissed a trail down to my navel and delicately pulled my panties down. He held them aloft in his hands like a trophy.

'These belong to me now,' he whispered.

I licked the roof of my mouth as I stood before him, his mother, naked save for my pearl necklace and watch. The watch was an anniversary gift from Mark. It was being used for a feral purpose now, to keep time as I copulated with our son. James dropped his briefs and I gasped as his penis greeted me, soaring like a javelin. I took off my necklace and hung it over his penis. The pearls swayed gently as his cock throbbed.

We stopped to savour the moment. Both naked and sweating. Him leaking from his penis and me leaking from my pussy. We were ready. I did not want to wait any longer. I slid onto the bed and took his hand in mine. He took the necklace off and placed it on the bedside table. He shifted my legs and made room for himself. He stroked my pussy with his finger as I bit my tongue.

'Whatever should I do now, mother?' he teased.

I didn't want to take his bait. I didn't want to show him just how desperate I was for this. But it was a moot point. I was here, in the bedroom, next to my marital bedroom. I was naked, on my back, dribbling from my pussy and crying out for him to fuck me.

'Jesus, James. Fuck me. Fuck Mummy. Please.'

That set him off. He moved into position. I watched in wanton excitement as he pushed his cock into me for the first time. My pussy quaked. It quailed in a mixture of fear and ecstasy as James slid himself into me. It wasn't that he was just big but he was so thick at the same time. I was grateful to be so wet otherwise I couldn't be sure I could fit him all in.

'Mum...', he looked down at me in genuine wonderment. As though he could not believe what was happening.

'You're so wet, Mum.'

'Ah...well, I think you're...oh...at least...partly responsible, James. Oh God!'

I cried out as he began to fuck me. The feeling was so intense and it had only just begun. I held onto his arms as he laboured above me. I peered down and watched as his slick cock worked in and out of my pussy. It was wonderful, hypnotic. Each thrust in and out was a chronicle of my pleasure. I looked into his face.

His mouth was still open and his face still a picture of shock at what was transpiring. I wondered how I looked to him. If my features were in a similar state of dumbfoundment. He stooped to kiss me and I welcomed his ravening tongue into my mouth. We muffled each other's moans with our tongues. He increased his rhythm and my pussy squelched in approval.

I felt like the experience was almost wasted on me. I wanted to record it and relive and analyse the parts that I had missed through the heights of our passion. I wanted to taste the mixed juices oozing from my cunt. I wanted to hear our intermingled animal noises. I wanted to hold onto his backside as it shovelled his cock inside me. I wanted to scratch his back with my nails and mark him. It was a glorious tapestry of carnal pleasures and I wanted to see it all.

We touched foreheads and stared into each others eyes and for a moment I forgot we were coupled and lost myself in those endless blue eyes.

'Oh God, Mum. I'm going to cum,' he whimpered.

'Yes, baby! Yes, cum in me! I want it. I want to feel it!'

He shouted and I felt the explosion. It rippled through his penis like a shock wave and flooded my pussy. I came instantly. The instant I felt it. The hot cum of my son roaring into me. I felt like I was having a stroke. As though my orgasm had paralysed all the parts my body that would not recognise or appreciate this unadulterated euphoria.

We lay there shaking. Neither of us spoke. His penis became flaccid and rested in my stunned pussy. We stared at each other, still unable to comprehend the magnitude of what we had done and how it had turned out.

'Wow...' James eventually said.

I tried to mouth a response but was unable to. He lifted himself up and out of me. I looked down at his dangling penis, its glans shiny with my juices.

'That...that was unbelievable,' I murmured. I rolled over and lay my head on his

chest.

'We are definitely doing that again,' he whispered.

I laughed and rested my head on my elbow.

'Well...if you insist,' I pouted.

'Oh my God, Mum. I didn't know...I had no idea that it could be as good as that.'

'Maybe you weren't doing it properly before.'

He laughed and poked me in my ribs. My breasts rested on his stomach, milky white orbs crowned with a red flush.

'So you didn't enjoy it then? You want to stop?'

'Well, I didn't say that...' I stuck my tongue out at him.

'God, Mum. I feel...I feel like I've won the lottery.'

'It was amazing, James. You must know that. I mean...the evidence is still coating your dick if you want to double check.'

'I came in you, Mum.'

Just hearing him say that. Thinking about his reams of cum squirming around my throbbing pussy gave me goosebumps.

'I know. It was...'

'So hot...so incredible. And I'm going to do it again.'

'Yes. Yes, you are.'

He laughed and covered his eyes.

'I had a wank in the shower,' he blurted out.

'You mean after you got home? Haha, I bet you did!'

'Hey! I just...I didn't want to come too soon. I wanted to make it last.'

'Oh, you were doing it for me? How noble. How selfless.'

He flicked my ear and I hooted in protest. We grappled with each other like, well, lovers. He let me pin him down as we nuzzled each other. His cum dribbled out of my pussy and dried on his stomach. We said nothing but stared. A perfect moment of quiet reflection.

'I'm glad,' he said.

'What? That I said I wanted to continue?'

'No. That you're my mother. You're so hot. A bona fide MILF.'

'And you're a bona fide motherfucker.'

He grinned.

'Yes. And I will continue being a motherfucker for a long while yet.'

He pulled at my wrist to look at the watch.

'What time is it?'

'5:30.'

'We should leave half an hour at least to get cleaned up and changed.'

'Why?'

'James!' I clipped him round the head.

'There she is. There's my mother.'

'You mean I haven't been your mother for the past hour?'

'Of course you have. My favourite version of you...my mother-lover.'

'I mean it, James. We both reek of sex. This room needs airing out and we need to have a long shower. Remember the rules.'

'Oh, the rules.' He waved his hand dismissively.

'I'm serious, James.'

He took my hand and placed it on his penis. I cocked my head like a good irritated parent. The heat coming off his dick was incredible. It started to grow hard again. I watched it expand with a barely concealed hunger. He tipped my face towards him and we kissed. I coaxed his penis back to its full glory as we dripped saliva onto the bed sheets.

He cupped my breasts and tweaked at my hard nipples as his tongue fought a losing battle against mine. I had never know such a fervid desire. It was mad, unconscionable, criminal. It was the most delicious passion I had ever felt. The touch of his hands, the feel of his lips on mine, the way his cock stretched me out. I had never been an addict but I was addicted to this. Every moment of doubt, guilt and self-loathing was eclipsed by orgasms so pure I thought they would never end.

He got up off the bed and dragged me to the edge. He hooked my knees over his head as he jacked his cock. I stroked his torso as I prepared to receive him again. He pushed me back a little as though checking the angles to ensure optimal penetration. I gasped as he entered me. It had only been a few minutes but it was like my pussy had forgotten the size of him. I gripped onto the bed cover as he began fucking me again.

It was outrageous. Feeling this good should not be legal. It wasn't legal, I reminded myself. Maybe that's why I was enjoying it so much. I watched in awe as my son steadily fed me his cock. I laid back and let the pleasure wash over me.

'Text Dad.'

'What?'

I lifted my head up unsure if he had said something or it was some delirium-induced noise.

'You heard me. Ask him when he's back.'

I grumbled as he stopped his piledriving motion. His cock was half in and half out of me. I was on my back with my legs in the air. He tossed me my phone. I unlocked it and started the message. He resumed his fucking and I immediately made a series of typos. I didn't care. The feeling of James's cock ploughing in and out of my overwhelmed pussy was just too much. I let out a loud groan as I came.

James took this as incentive and began pounding me harder. He flipped my legs up over his shoulders and renewed his thrusting with even more force.

'Did you send it?' he panted at me.

'Dear God James, I can barely remember how to breathe right now!'

He stopped and took a breath. He pulled his cock out and rubbed the head against my clit. I came again with sharp moan. He handed my phone back to me.

'Send it,' he ordered.

I somehow picked the phone up with my spastic fingers. The textbox was a line of gibberish. The sound of my cries as my son ravished me. I deleted it and wrote a more cogent message. I read out loud an imaginary message.

'Hi darling. When are you back? Shall we order takeaway? Please could you confirm your ETA? I'm having sex with our son and I'd really rather not be interrupted while he is banging my brains out.'

James laughed hoarsely. He grabbed at my breasts and played with the nipples. I shifted my pussy down, eager for him to recommence his fucking. Mark replied back. We both held our breath as I checked the message, the contents of which would determine just how comprehensively we could fuck each other over the next few hours.

'Ah,' I said.

'What? You're teasing me, aren't you?'

'No. I wish...I wish I was. He'll be here at 7.'

There was a deflated look on his face. I laughed at the image he projected just then. His rock hard cock protruding from my inflamed pussy while he stood there with a look of melancholy.

'What's so funny?'

'Nothing, baby. Just fuck me. Fuck Mummy. Fill her with your cum again.'

He pushed my legs back past my head and leaned forward.

'You know best, mother.'

He resumed his rampant penetration and I shouted myself hoarse. These were not my usual noises, my hushed 'oohs' and 'ahs' with Mark. These were the screechings and exhortations of a woman in heat. A woman aflame. Each cry was answered by James. We were in consonance. It was only the second time, but our bodies had achieved a harmony that belied this short time. We were like new initiates discovering a secret altar together.

I lifted my hips to accommodate his flailing cock. It was so hard. It filled me so perfectly. Everything was perfect. The way he pushed down on my legs, pinning them over my head. The sweat dripping off his fevered brow. The tight hold of his hands on my hips. The awe-struck look on his face. Half-concentration, half- astonishment.

It was then that I understood his disappointment. Not just at Mark coming back earlier than advertised, but having to skulk around. Having to clean up and make ourselves presentable. At that moment in time my only desire was to spend the night with James, experiencing orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. He sped up. Our bodies crashed against each other and the slapping sounds of flesh were music to my ears. All of my plans and rules. All the hiding and discretion. It was suddenly meaningless in the face of this blazing passion.

I knew then. Why that couple I had googled had revealed themselves to the world. They were not ashamed of what they had done. They were proud of their love. I was not ashamed either. There was only pride found in such heightened pleasure. James started moaning. I could not be sure if he was close. It was a thrill to have a new lover and learn his lovemaking tics. Was he close or just teasing? Was this his favourite position or did he favour another? How could I get another dose of his beautiful cum? I came at the thought and James joined me.

We reached a crescendo of screams and I'm quite sure the windows rattled and the neighbours heard me. My pussy twitched in delight as his cum shot through me. He collapsed onto me and I licked the sweat from his brow. I pulled his backside into me, not wanting the joy of his hilted cock to be removed from my pussy.

We lay there till 6 just stroking and holding each other. I got up first and groaned. I felt like I had just run a marathon. My legs ached. My arms dangled limply from my shoulders. My mouth felt dry. I felt at my pussy. It was sore but it was a happy soreness. I ran my finger over it and brushed a string of cum from my pussy lips. I looked at it and put it into my mouth, marvelling at the taste and texture of our sex. It was a feast for the senses. This joyous forbidden fruit that we fed to each other. James was still laid out on the bed. He looked like he was dozing.

'James!' I hissed.

He grunted and remained still.

'James. Please jump in the shower. That is all I am asking you to do. I'll clean up here, but please just get yourself ready for when your father gets here.'

He pushed himself up and sighed.

'Please. I don't want to nag you. If you're serious about this then please work with me. I don't want to do this with a reluctant child. I want to do this with a man.'

He got up and nodded. He picked up his clothes and my panties. He twirled them in the air and grinned. I smiled back. We kissed as he walked out of the room. That was smoother than I expected. It was easy for him to ignore the woman who nagged and scolded him, but he was not quite ready to offend the woman whose pussy milked him dry.

I collected my dress, bra and heels and took them to my room. James was in the shower so I took some new linen out and changed the bed in the guest room. I opened the window and sprayed deodorant. After James had cleaned up, it was my turn. I luxuriated in the soapy water as it washed away my afternoon of lovemaking with my son. I realised it was the happiest I had felt in a long time. The rut I had thought I was content to stay in had shattered. I was looking at a new horizon, one which I didn't even know existed.

I dried myself and changed into my normal home apparel. Baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. My afternoon as sex-vamp was over and I needed to just be a homebody again. I dragged the offending articles of our passion downstairs and put them in the wash. James was in the kitchen eating some cereal.

'I don't mind you taking my panties, James but for the love of God please be

careful. I don't want your father stumbling across them and asking questions.'

He chuckled.

'Don't worry, Mum. If he does, I'll just tell him the truth. I have them because I'm a pervert who's hot for you.'

I laughed and threw a towel at him. He ducked and scurried into the conservatory. I started cooking for Mark. Fresh tortilla and salad. It was ready by the time he came home just after 7. I kissed him and asked how his day was. James talked to him about what route to take for their bike ride in the morning. I checked the guest room before joining them to eat.

It was quiet, peaceful. There was no inkling that not so long ago it had hosted the unholy passions of our incestuous union. I closed the window and smoothed the bed sheets one last time. The room which was only used sparingly would now see an influx of action. The mattress springs would creak to the cadence of our sweating bodies. There would be new furrows and grooves created from our mad coupling. The slats would curve and splinter from the pressure of my hips and back as James ploughed into me. I relived the memories of the afternoon and promised myself they would just be the beginning.

I walked back downstairs. We sat at the table and enjoyed a family dinner. Mark sat at the head of the table while I faced James. There were no furtive looks or glances of longing between James and myself. I did not snake out a leg to play footsie and he did not make lewd faces. I think we both knew we had something special. We wanted to follow the rules. We wanted to our clandestine heat to continue.
Yes, we would have both continued that afternoon had time allowed. We would have explored more of each other's bodies and desires. But there was time.

All we had to do was be patient. Perhaps our eventual destination was Hell. A tenth circle created especially for us and the wantonness of our actions. And we would placed either end of the circle. Unable to touch or talk to each other. But the memories would be indelible. And that would be enough.

I brought out bowls of ice cream for them and waited till they finished. James went up to his room first. I sat and talked more with Mark.

I didn't feel any guilt. In my mind, he would never know. He would never find out. I could still try and maintain my normal relationship with him. It might be difficult, it might be a chore but I now had a powerful motivation. The merest thought of James heaving over me as his cock bombarded my pussy was all the stimulant I needed. I would do whatever it took to ensure he would cum in me again and again. I walked up to bed with Mark and we prepared to sleep.

I was relieved it was Friday. I needed a lie-on to recover. Maybe I would have to start working out. In a strange way I felt competitive. In a battle of our stamina I would not be the one to quit first. No, it would be him pleading pause and rest, not me. My heart rose at the thought. The thought of fucking my son.

Not just tomorrow or the day after that but long into the future. Until my pussy was a worn out husk and his cock was a crooked, timid thing. It would be wonderful.

I checked my phone to see there was a message from James. A solitary heart emoji. I smiled and replied back with the same message.