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Subject: i n c e s t story: "A Change of Routine Ch. 1" 45757
From: rabinofben@yahoo.com
Date: Sun, 20 May 2007 17:04:09 +0000
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A Change of Routine Ch. 1
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.
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