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Subject: Title story: "A Change of Routine Ch.  1" Author: INCESTOR                                                                   64388158
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Tue, 10 Jan 2006 09:57:59 +0000

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A Change of Routine Ch. 1 by MissVictoria Have you ever done something unexpected-
something that honestly surprised yourself? You know what I mean... I have
never considered myself an adventurous woman. I'm quiet, bookish. A typical
"librarian" archetype, complete with glasses and mousy-brown hair pulled back
into a tight bun, as you can see. Oh, I won't lie and say that I have never had
the urge to skinny-dip in the river, or flash my breasts to a truck-driver
trying to get him to honk. Its just that my entire life, I've been the one who
had the urges but would never DO those things. Have you? I'm shy, socially
awkward. I married a shy, socially awkward man. He eventually left me for a
wild, sexually forward woman named 'Nancy'. Nancy Fancy...Bitch. I haven't
missed him since. His parting words to me were: "Joyce, you need to cut
loose... get wild. The bookworm bullshit just got too old. Look at Nance.. that
woman knows how to let go." And he was right. I merely hadn't found the proper
means to ease myself into the transition of...well, letting things come easily.
And my husband certainly had not helped... in fact, I can not recall very many
truly happy or romantic moments within my marriage. It was as if truthfully
didn't feel like trying to urge my adventurous, lusty side out. Utter bullshit.
Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it... Ted and I produced a beautiful,
wonderful boy from our union. He even paid the child support faithfully until
Gary turned eighteen. I suppose I have no true complaints about my former
marriage, and my current lack thereof. Ted really was a nice guy. And I HAD
been a prude. But there were so many things he could have done...Oh God...
throw me down, take me, crush me, show me how good it can be. I'd wanted him
to, but he never had. And of course, I could never ask for something like
that... that's not how I am. So here I am, forty-three, single, a "mousy
librarian" living in a modest apartment with my son. Well, modest and
tasteful... you know me. It is lavishly decorated to suit my taste, art
nouveau, an occasional odd piece, such as the tribal fertility goddess next to
my armchair, or the modernistic iron lovers on my coffee table. Gary
particularly hates the lovers, as they obstruct his view when he is watching
television, or playing his video games or whatever. He is twenty now, attending
college full time. I have no complaints about him living at home, in fact,
without him, I think it would be rather lonely. And here I am... off on a
tangent. What was I speaking about? Oh yes, adventure. I can see the laughter
in your eyes as I pronounce the word "adventure". You don't see it in me... ah,
I don't mind. Most people don't see it. Gary, on the other hand saw something
different... can you keep a secret? Lean closer, I don't want anyone else to
hear. I'm only telling you this because you've mentioned similar topics to me,
and... I just really would like to tell someone what I've been doing, and...
maybe enjoy it. You can keep a secret, can't you? Oh, I don't know where to
start... I work as teacher's aid, so usually Gary gets home from school shortly
before I do. My life is filled with unchanging routine. It is how it has always
been. My general routine is to walk through the door, throw my books on the
table, kick my heels across the kitchen floor and yell at the cat. Without
fail, Gary is always playing some video game or another when I get home, his
eyes glued to the television set like a zombie. And this was the routine.
Sometime, a few weeks ago... it changed slightly. All of the sudden one day
when I got home, Gary was sitting in the armchair, watching the door when I
came in, television off. I'd noticed him, for the past month or so, looking at
me strangely. I was beginning to wonder if he was upset with me for some
reason. "Hi Mom," he said. "You know... I've been thinking. You are really an
attractive woman. There is no reason you should still be single." I was taken
aback at the statement, and even more surprised when he casually added, "You
really could be sexy mom. I see it." I set my purse down on the table, blinking
to clear my head. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, that my own son
disapproved of my status as a single woman, and moreso that he thought I should
be 'sexy'. I glanced over at my son, and he had the strangest look on his face.
He glanced at me lengthily, as if taking me completely in before he rose from
the chair and approached me. My own feet were planted in the kitchen... It was
almost as if I was afraid to step into the same room as my own son. Needless to
say, the fear did not subside as he advanced toward me. Gary reached forward
and helped me take off my suit jacket. He hung it on the back of a chair and
his eyes returned to me, noticeably taking in my breasts through the white silk
of my blouse. Blushing, I took a step backward and made a comment about what I
was going to make for supper. He ignored me, reaching a single finger forward
to lightly trace the underside of my left breast. A tingle of excitement rushed
through my entire body, and I pushed his hand harshly away, stepping past him
and locking myself in the bathroom until I regained my senses. Looking into the
mirror, I wondered why my own son had done such a thing... and moreso what that
tinge of excitement I had felt had been. Why was my heart beating so quickly? I
emerged from the bathroom as I heard Gary go to his room and close the door. I
fixed supper, and the rest of the night proceeded in accordance with the proper
routine. The next day when I arrived home, there Gary was again sitting in the
armchair with his eyes on the door, waiting. I smiled awkwardly as I entered
the door, kicking the cat out of the way and throwing my purse and keys onto
the table. He said not a word as I walked into the living room. The television
was off, I turned it on, flipped it to CNN and sat down on the edge of the
couch. We both watched TV in silence for a while before he tossed the book he
had been reading to the side of the armchair and stretched, rising and walking
over to sit on the other side of the couch beside me. I kept my eyes forward,
to the television, watching the news but not understanding what they were
talking about. I could feel his eyes on me... they were hot. They were burning
the side of my face, washing over my breasts and my legs with heat... what was
this... Suddenly he leaned slightly forward, tracing a line down the side of my
cheek with a finger. I kept my eyes forward as his finger found its way back up
my cheek to rest at my temple, near my ear. I swallowed hard. "Gary... what are
you doing?" I asked, as casually as I could. "I think," he replied, "That you
should take off your glasses, mom." His finger pushed up under the edge of my
glasses, and his other hand reached forward to grab the other side. He plucked
my glasses gently from my face, folded them, and set them on the edge of the
coffee table, then leaning back to observe me critically. I glanced over to my
son, blood rising to my cheeks, my face growing very warm. I could not look
into his eyes... they were burning... I was burning, everything was so...
heated. "Beautiful," he said. I glanced up at him, and saw that he was not
mocking me. His hand traced its way up my neck, to my hairline, then upwards to
remove a few hairpins from the knotted locks atop my head. Finding the correct
pin, my hairstyle collapsed, causing my hair to fall downwards in waves to my
shoulders. He ran his fingers through the mass of it, brushing parts of it back
from my face, combing out the locks. Soon his hand found its way to my
shoulder, where it rested, massaging it slowly. I stared, entranced, at my son.
My face was flushed. My body was quivering. What was this... this intensity of
feeling... oh god... to surrender to this feeling... to forget that the man
before me was my son, my little boy... He leaned forward and suddenly I felt
his lips on my neck. Oh god, if you could know how it sent shudders down my
spine, how it made my neck burn, my loins burn... I felt a deep throbbing in my
nether-regions, and felt myself growing moist and heated. Had he asked me to
surrender then, I think I would have, but he did not. He licked a slow line up
my neck, then stood up and helped me up into a standing position. Gary took my
hand and led me to my bedroom, and standing me in front of the vanity mirror of
my dresser, he stood behind me, reaching a hand around me to cup my chin and
guide me to look at myself in the mirror. I looked at myself, then at him
standing behind me in the mirror. "Look at yourself, mom." he said, tapping my
chin with his finger as a reminder. "And don't stop looking." For some reason
unknown to me, I obeyed my son's request, glancing at myself in the mirror,
nervous and wondering what he had in mind. My eyes followed as he slipped his
hands around me and began to undo the buttons of my blouse, one by one. I held
my breath... I'll admit now, I was scared... I was petrified... but I was also
beyond excited, and every touch of his fingers was like a tiny jolt of
electricity. Slipping his hands up under the sides of my blouse, he pulled it
off and let it fall to the floor. I watched myself in the mirror, standing in a
bra and a navy blue skirt. Soon, I felt Gary's hands working on the button at
the back of my skirt, and it too fell to the floor. I stared at myself in the
mirror, standing there in a white bra and panties, jumping at my son's touch as
he ran his hands over my sides. "Beautiful," he whispered into my ear as his
hand slid forward to caress my stomach. I watched him in the mirror, licking at
my neck as his hands wandered over my body. Soon, I closed my eyes, enjoying
the feeling of his tongue and hands against my skin. I felt his hands working
at the clasps of my bra, and I held my breath as he slipped the garment to the
floor. "Open your eyes," he whispered. I opened my eyes. My breasts were round
and full, my nipples hard and pointed in the excitement. I watched in the
mirror as my son cupped both breasts in his hands from behind, and kneaded them
around with a pleased and wicked smile on his face. He pressed closer, and I
felt his hardness pressing against my rear through the cloth of my panties,
which he soon had off as well. I was completely naked... In front of a mirror
with my son standing behind me, arms wrapped around my waist and staring into
his eyes in the mirror. He spoke, watching my eyes in the mirror as well. "Look
at yourself... your breasts, your waist, your hips," he said, running his hands
over the spoken parts. "There is no need for you to deny yourself...mom... you
are such a woman. Such a beautiful, sexy woman." I looked. I had never allowed
myself to truly look before. "I... don't know what you are talking about, Gary"
I managed. "Don't bullshit me, mom." he retorted. "You are a desirable woman.
I'm a man, and I say so. And I have proof. See, you made me want to fuck you."
He rubbed his engorged groin against my rear, and once more the heat ran
through my body. I averted my eyes and stared at the corner of my wall. "But
that is not for tonight," he whispered. He went to his room. He left me
standing there, naked and in front of a mirror, staring at myself critically
and scared half to death. I put on a robe and spent the rest of the evening in
my bedroom, curled under my covers with my eyes open, restless and thinking. I
did not get up when I heard the pizza guy ring the doorbell. I didn't yell at
Gary for ordering pizza without my permission. I just stared at the wall, and
thought. I was nervous to come home the next day, fearful of the awkwardness
that would exist between he and I. But when I opened the door he was not
sitting in the chair. I set my keys and purse down lightly on the table, and
ignored the cat as I walked into the living room, feeling almost...
disappointed that he wasn't in the chair waiting for me to get home. In fact,
he was nowhere in sight. I peeked into his bedroom then knocked on the bathroom
door, but he was nowhere to be found. Instinctively, I wandered to my bedroom
and was surprised to see a covered garment hanging off the post of my bed, with
a note attached. "WEAR THIS. 8:00. VESPUCCI'S. -G" read the note in Gary's bold
capital letters. I removed the cover from the garment to reveal a sleek and
sexy black dress, short hemmed and consisting of hardly any fabric at all. Hung
around the hook of the clothes hanger was a racy pair of red lace panties, with
a bra to match. I blushed just looking at the garment, and wondered at the
intentions of wearing such attire. I decided to take a shower and go along with
my son's wishes. But what was he doing? Setting me up on a date? Keeping the
house empty in case I got "lucky"? Another thought crossed my mind, and it was
my secret hope. Now, you know me... I am not an ungroomed woman, but I
certainly don't take special care in my appearance. That night was different...
I luxuriated in every way I could think of and spent a whole two hours getting
ready for the surprise evening. Wrapped in a towel, I dried my hair, styled it
in curls over my shoulders, put on lipstick and even painted my toenails... a
deep, dark color that my Grandmother would have called "slut red". When I
slipped into the bright red undergarments and then the little black dress, I
couldn't help but blush in the mirror and wonder how I could go out in public
like this. My slut-coloured toenails peeked out from my strappy black shoes,
the digits appearing soft and tempting. The dress only came down to my mid-
thigh, and when wearing the strappy heels that had been laid out for me, my
legs looked long and luscious. I was afraid that if I bent over, I would flash
red at anyone nearby... and I would have! I spritzed some lilac scented perfume
on my neck as a final touch, and paused nervously before heading out the door
at precisely 7:30. I left my glasses on the edge of the bathroom sink. On
purpose. (stay tuned for part two, same bat time, same bat channel)
- Click here



End
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