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Subject: Title story: "A Change of Routine Ch. 1" Author: INCESTOR 50099705
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Date: Fri, 29 Jul 2005 01:15:14 +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)
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