Title: Her Diary
Keywords: mf, fF, teen, mat, cheat, inc, mom, son, dad, daughter, brother, sister
Author: Caesar
Summary: A sexually repressed mother and wife learns to take her life back from her abusive manipulative daughter.
 




There was a young lady named Gilda
Who went on a date with a builder.
        He said that he would,
        And he could and he should,
And he did and it damn well near killed her.


Her Diary

by Caesar, copyright 2003

$Revision: 1.3 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

"I don't care what it says, it was wrong Carol!"

My husband pulled the duvet up to his waist and settled the book on
his over-sized round stomach.

My anger was about to explode.  "God damn it Darren - our daughter may
be sexually active!"  I stood at my side of the bed with my hands on
my waist.

My husband's nearly-bald head started to turn red, and he huffed as he
set down his hardcover book, "Listen Carol - don't you remember how
you were when you were seventeen?  I know I was was walking hormone."
You would not know it to look at him now - as he looked and acted
nothing like that outrageous and fun teenager that I went to school
with so many years before.  "Things are not good between you and
Jackie as it stands Carol - what do you think would happen if she knew
you were reading her diary?"  He glared at me, challenging me to
contest his statement.

I wanted to scream at my fat bald husband - I wanted to tell him that
I knew about the Sunday afternoon's that our daughter had wrote about
in her diary.  When her brother Gill was at his soccer practise and I
was at pottery - my daughter spent an hour in the sun, wearing a
bikini bottom, and nothing on top.  And if her own description was to
be believed, was nearly non-existent.  She did this not for the sake
of browning her skin, but to give her father a show - to let 'dear old
daddy' get his 'rocks off' by peeking at her.  The more recent entries
in her journal spoke about how her father trembled as he rubbed lotion
over nearly 'every centimetre' of our daughters body.

Darren had no idea that his daughter was playing him for the fool.

Jackie is nothing like me at that age - I was much more naive about
the world, about men and women than she is.  She knew her father, knew
him as a man.  She wrote that she may have to give her father a hand
job, or perhaps a blow job for 'something extra special', but that she
was also disgusted just to be near him.

Thank god nothing else had happened but Darren gawking at our daughter
and rubbing suntan lotion on her body.  Regardless that she described
him spending many long minutes rubbing lotion into her breasts and her
ass cheeks.

I lifted the duvet and slipped into my side of the bed, my heart
pounding with such anger that I felt like hitting my husband.

I did not yell at him nor did I hit him - you see, my daughter was not
only playing her father, but she was also playing me as well.  If her
father disgusted her - I enraged her.

I read how Jackie hated me, hated my voice, how I dressed, my round
soft curves, my maternal dominance over our family.  My daughter
wanted to hurt me - figuratively and physically.  I head read how
Jackie wanted to see me crying in humiliation and pain, to hear my beg
her 'to make it stop'.  She wrote about her rape fantasies - where she
tied me up and pissed on me, had a stray dog have intercourse with me.
She hated me with a passion that tore my heart out and left fear in
its wake.  If there was any positive note about what she wrote - is
that she had no idea how to get this revenge, or control, over me.
Jackie had wrote about dressing suggestively, about having a chance
encounter where I saw her naked - but I did not react in a way that
she could have used.  In truth, the way she dressed only caused loud
arguments in our home and I do not remember any chance encounters at
seeing my daughter's body.

Telling Darren about the diary, hinting about Jackie's darker side had
been my way to begin to win my husband to my side.  And 'side' it is -
because Jackie had wrote how and what she would do to get her father
and brother to her 'side'.  Obviously, my revealing the diary to
Darren had been a mistake - he had immediately shown a reluctance at
hearing a word I said, the signs obvious after twenty years of
marriage.  Perhaps it was even guilt that I may stumble across
something about their Sunday afternoons.  If he only knew!

Next to me Darren read his book.  When we first married - we would
make love practically every night before we fell asleep, now it was
one of thousands of books that he preferred to fall asleep with.

Was I really that unattractive a woman?  I still had a little of the
perky cuteness that my face held when we first met.  Sure my hips had
widened after two children, my breasts were large so that many people
thought me overweight.  But I was not fat, I had a waist even if I did
not show it off in the way I dressed.  Darren was staring at our
daughter's lithe teenage body - practically no breasts, only a slight
curve to her hips and waist.  My daughter had a body not so unlike
some teenage boys I thought - a body she did not inherit from my side
of the family. I had a womans body not that of a teenage girl - why
was he so fascinated with looking at her and not his wife?

And that left out the fact that she was his daughter for god's sake!

My hand moved smoothly beneath the duvet until it rested on Darren's
wide pyjama-covered thigh.  When was the last time we made love?
Months at least - and if memory is anything, I can not remember the
last time that he lasted longer than a minute inside me.  Darren
seemed determined to ignore me, to ignore my hand.

Then I moved it up his lap to grasp his tiny soft member above his
pyjamas bottoms.  Without even moving his book or looking up from it -
he spoke firmly, "Not tonight Carol."

I had a choice - take my hand off him or press my case more firmly.

This was not the first time I had tried to interest my husband into
making love with his wife - and so well understood the frustration of
being denied.  My hand slipped off his crotch as easy as it had
attached itself.  I knew a lost cause when I faced one.

I curled up into a ball facing away from my husband and stared into
the shadows of our bedroom.  Perhaps Jackie had been right - Darren
was a disgusting man... but he is all I got.  That is probably part of
the reason she wanted to win him to her 'side'.
 
 -*-

The next morning, before going to work - Darren had ordered me to
leave our daughter's diary alone.  Of course I begrudgingly agreed -
else it would turn into a big fight.  But I could not stop reading it
- I felt that it was my only strength at the moment, my only defence
at the devil with my only daughter.

Darren kissed me goodbye, trying to hide his triumphant smile.  Does
he smile when he rubs lotion into his daughters ass and tits every
Sunday afternoon?

Jackie, as usual, had left early for school - kissing her father's
cheek before he left and ignoring me.

That left Gill and I alone.

I had read in Jackie's journal that she thought her sixteen year-old
brother to be a pain in the ass, but useful in certain situations.
Jackie often left her soiled panties for her brother to 'jerk off to'
and frequently gave him peaks of her tall thin body.  She described
her younger brother to be like a puppy dog with its tongue hanging out
just waiting for its next bone.

If my husband Darren was a disgusting pig for pawing his daughters
near-naked body and staring at her for hours - our son's actions could
be excused.  Gill is not the brightest of teenagers but he is typical
in all ways - even in the ways of learning about his sexuality.  I am
his mother I know that my little boy had changed - the stains on his
bed sheets was enough proof if I needed any more.  Having his older,
more intelligent, and evil older sister manipulate him - what chance
did he have against her?

Unlike my husband, I did not place any blame on Gill's shoulders.

So after Darren and Jackie had left for their day - I cooked a large
breakfast for Gill.  He practically foamed at the mouth as I set thick
pancakes and bacon before him, before digging in as if he were
starved.  I did this for a few reasons - I loved my son and he was not
against me as his sister was, or immobile as my husband was.  'Sides'
again - and I wanted Gill on my side.

I was again amazed at the amount of food that he consumed - the
teenage appetite is an amazing thing.  When he finally pushed his
plate away from him, peeking at the clock to see if he had much more
time before school - which he did, I said, "Do you know I love you
Gill?"

He blinked up at me three times before answer, "Of course mom.  I love
you too."

He spoke it not so unlike how a computer would regurgitate it back
when told to say the words.  It was not very reassuring.

"You know you can always come to me if you need to talk right honey?"

Gill shrugged with his shoulders and then bent over to retrieve his
book bag, "Sure mom."  I don't think he heard a word I said.  My son
stood up and started to rush out of the kitchen before stopping and
turning to kiss my cheek quickly.  Then he was out of the kitchen and
the house with a flash - with the energy only a teenager can have.

I was left holding my cheek where he had kissed me - tears starting to
cloud my vision.  What was the last time my son had kissed me?  Years
maybe - not counting holidays or birthdays.  Surely not all was lost
in my family?

 -*-

I stood like every mother stands when facing the cold frustration that
is our children - with my arms crossed over my chest and one foot
tapping the floor in barely-contained anger.

Jackie sat in a hard-backed chair reading some trashy teen magazine
with one leg over the other and her bare foot wiggling in the air.
She was wearing an extremely short skirt and a very tight tank top.

When Darren and I heard her come in - way past her curfew, as if that
still mattered in this house, my husband suggested he go and 'speak to
our daughter'.  Well I had read in Jackie's diary how effective her
father's talks were - when things looked tight she would press her
tall thin frame against her fathers rotund body, or she may give him
slow kisses over his face or just take one of her father's index
fingers and suck it brazenly.  Yes, there is little doubt that Jackie
had her father wrapped about her finger - so it was I that went
downstairs to confront the little tramp.

"Relax mom - I am only a little late."  Three hours late - and I hated
how she kept reading that stupid magazine as she spoke to me.  Then
beneath her breath, though easily loud enough for me to hear, "Why
don't you get your panties out of your ass bitch."

"Pardon me young lady?  You shall not speak to me like that!"  I was
practically screaming at her.

"Yea, whatever."

Then Jackie did something that I think was not intentional - she
uncrossed her legs and let her knees spread almost shoulder-width
apart.  Even in the shadowed light I could see well enough up the very
short skirt to my daughters white lace panties.  For some strange
reason the sight caught my eye and I froze, looking at the darkness of
her privates beneath the skimpy undergarment.  Blame it on the diary -
how she had explained that she had tried showing me her body
previously, testing to see if I could be controlled like her brother
and father.  Yes, I thought of that as I starred at my daughters
crotch.

Something broke the spell - though I am sure it only lasted a second -
before I tore my eyes from between my daughters smoothly tanned thighs
and back up to her face.  What I saw was that my daughter was
surprised that I had looked.  All too soon, her face and eyes turned
to a smug grin that reseeded my earlier anger, as it had been
forgotten at the sight I had witnessed.

I had no defence at what I had done - could not find a single
statement to berate my daughter.  I spun quickly and retreated back to
my bedroom and my husband.  Darren asked me tentatively how it went,
but I ignored him and curled up into a ball facing away from his side
of the bed and feigned sleep.  There had been enough fights between
mother and daughter in this house so Darren understood when to leave a
topic alone.

 -*-

I hated the weakness that I had shown my daughter the night before -
fearing I had lost another battle in our ongoing war.  I avoided my
family the next morning and only came out of my room after they had
all left the house.  I went right to Jackie's bedroom and retrieved
the diary from the secret place she hid it in.  I even took care with
the single strand of hair she placed on the cover - as I had
originally guess properly that she was a conniving little tramp.

I went directly to the last entry and read my daughter's messy
writing.  It started out about how her date last night went -
explaining in detail how she sucked and then fucked the boy in his
parents car all the while belittling the young man's performance and
penis size.  It comes as no surprise that my daughter is sexually
active, contrary to what I hinted to Darren, I've read many pages of
details that makes the best sexual moments in my life chaste in
comparison.  It was the last paragraph that I was looking for.

    I caught the old bitch checking out my twat when I got
    home. Perhaps I was wrong - the old skank may just be into young
    cunt after all.  A few more tests to see if it was a mistake - but
    if I am right I may turn her into one of my little toys, like dad
    and my dorky brother.  Just thinking of the old bitch begging for
    me just gets me wet - maybe I should enjoy her to the fullest.
    How can she deny me anything after she had knelt between my legs
    licking me.  She would be my little cunt-slave - at least until I
    got tired of the old fat bitch.

What I read stunned me - it was worse than I feared.  How could any
daughter think that way about her mother?  It was revolting.  Things
could never be the same between us - how could I look at my daughter
and not see these words that she had written, knowing what is in her
mind.  An 'old fat bitch' huh?

Of course I am no lesbian - so I had little doubt that her plan will
fail, yet why had I looked between her legs like that?  It had to be
fascination - wondering what was so different between her and what the
two men in the house thought so highly of.

I returned the diary back to its hiding place, returning the hair
exactly has it had been placed.  Then I went across the hall to Gills
room - which was a mess, with old discarded clothing thrown about the
room and dusty toy model aeroplanes hanging from the ceiling.  I sat
on Gill's single bed and looked around.

In the diary I had read about Jackie standing at the foot of this bed
and watching as her naked brother jerked off while looking at her bare
chest.  I had read how it turned Jackie on - not seeing her brother
naked, or watching him masturbate to completion, but how she
controlled her younger brother as if he were 'a worm on a hook'.
Sometimes she would enter his room, remove her panties while he
watched from his bed, then slip them over his head so that her still
warm moist crotch would be across his face.  He would then be ordered
to masturbate laying there in that prepared position.

Panties... she had mentioned various times in the diary how she had
given her sixteen year-old brother 'panties to jerk off too'.  I
slipped my hand beneath the pillow wondering and fearing I would find
Jackie's soiled panties but I found nothing.

I sat looking around the room again, again wondering how a daughter of
mine could use what I saw as her minimal sex appeal to enslave the
attention of her brother and yes, even, my husband.  Darren used to
love playing with my big heavy breasts and wide nipples - but now, it
seems, he was more interested in looking, and more if the diary can be
believed, at our daughters tiny 'A' cup chest.

Then, with barely any forethought, I spread my knees and bent at the
waist to look under my son's bed.  Lots of dust, a few old toys that
he used to play with and forgotten soiled socks and not much else.  I
sat back up and sighed.

Why was I so interested in finding Jackie's panties?  I believed the
words in her diary explicitly - the residual evidence was apparent in
the eyes and attitudes of Darren and Gill when Jackie was within the
room.  I had read that Jackie thought her father digesting - but did
not think it unreasonable that she was willing to go much further than
letting him rub her body if that is what it took to keep him under her
thumb.  How can I fight against that if my suggestive attempts to make
love with my husband fails?  He sees me naked frequently - but he
rarely even looks any more and I know without a doubt there was no
tempting him like Jackie did, with just the sight of her body.

I was feeling incredibly old.

This time as I bent over, I slipped my hand between the mattress and
the box spring of Gill's bed.  At first I felt nothing unexpected and
was about to yank my hand back when I felt something with my finger
tips.  I dug deeper and yanked out a black satin French-cut panty.

I held it up before me as if it was diseased, with just my forefinger
and thumb, and stared at it.  Of course it was Jackie's - it was her
size.  The inside crotch of the panty was a little discoloured but I
knew it was not the remains of my son's ejaculate, but of his sisters
emissions.  Evidently he had not got around to using these panties for
his pleasure as yet.  I leaned forward so that the panty nearly
touched the tip of my nose and I inhaled the stale thick scent
recognizing it for what it was, even if it was different than my own.
I yanked my nose away quickly, disgusted at myself.  Here was even
more evidence that the writings of my deranged daughter was all true.
And if they are - god help me!

I dropped the garment onto my lap and shoved my hand beneath the bed
yet again.  It took some seconds but I felt something else, and yanked
it out.

Hanging before my amazed eyes was a pair of my own white cotton
panties, the crotch of which had a dried white crust upon it that I
knew immediately what it was.

"Oh my god."

Sure I was startled - but I was also a little relieved.

Perhaps I had not lost the 'war' as I had feared after all.  I am
still an attractive woman with sexy female curves - which is more than
I can say for Jackie - and here was proof that someone had indeed
noticed me.

Sure, you may say, but its my son?  You must try to put yourself into
my place - my home with its seething barely contained hate mixed with
a strange brew of lust.  I've watched it pouring out from my daughter
so that it seemed to draw my own husband and my son to it - as if they
were helpless.  I was ignored.  More than just ignored, I was
neglected.

If my son wanted to steal my panties and jerk off using them who was I
to judge against that?  He is a teenage boy - his body is going
through some amazing and bare contained changes.  I was actually
honoured that someone thought me attractive enough to use my plain
cotton panty to masturbate with.

My surprise and unanswered questions was more to do with the fact my
panty was soiled with dried sperm and my manipulative daughters was
not?

A proud joy filled me and if my son was there, I would have hugged and
thanked him for still caring for his old mother.

 -*-

Being Friday night - Jackie had another date with another guy.  Always
a different guy - she went through them weekly.  No wonder as I had
read in her diary how she belittled them, left them angry and
humiliated after she was done with them.

Darren, after showing his barely contained jealousy for his daughter
going out on another date, lost himself in front of the television.

Gill had gone to his room to study.

I cleaned up the supper dishes and tidied up the kitchen,
contemplating going up to Gill's room to confront him about what I had
found.

Sure I could just leave well enough alone - let him go on using my
panties as he wished - but you have to consider the Jackie-factor.  I
wanted my son to know that I knew, and that it was OK with me.  Jackie
had no control over either of us, between our natural mother-son love
and respect.  I wanted to reinforce that - to have Gill on my 'side'.
To me, he knowing that I knew about my soiled panties would help
reinforced that love.

Before I could go upstairs, Gill came down to dig into the fridge for
an apple.  After he slammed the fridge and looked about to return to
his room, I spoke up quickly - so not to loose the strength I needed
to confront my son.  No matter what you may think, this was not easy
for me - any conversation about sex with a child is always awkward and
difficult.

"Gill honey?"

He stopped just a meter from the fridge and turned to look at me.  I
listened to the television, knowing that Darren would shout up from
the family room in the basement if he wanted anything so Gill and I
would have some semblance of privacy.  "Yea mom?"

Unlike his sister, his words were not impatient and harsh.

I could not meet his eyes, "I was cleaning your room today and found
something between your mattresses?"  I looked up into my son's face,
now that I got the most difficult part out.

Gill's face turned immediately a bright red and he froze.  "Mom...!"
He did not seem to be able to continue and a silence built between us.

I stepped forward quickly and placed my open hand against his warm
smooth cheek, "Its OK honey.  I am not mad."

He frowned in surprise but did not turn any less shade of red.

"I know what you did and I want you to know that its OK, its perfectly
natural."  That, in its single sentence, was the sum of what I wanted
to tell him.

His voice returned, though it cracked a little, "Your not mad?"

"No, of course not honey.  In fact I am a little flattered."  I knew
as soon as I said it that I had spoken too much.

"Then you liked it?"  He showed great surprise that startled me for
some reason - I had no time to analysis what it meant at that moment.

"That is not what I meant honey."  I tread softly, so as not to hurt
all that I've gained in this conversation.  "Just that I understand
and that its OK what you did."  There is that statement yet again.  I
could feel my face warming up and knew my cheeks were turning red as
well.  This was not an easy chat for either of us.

A few lengthy seconds while our eyes tried to read the other, "You
really did not mind mom?"

I forced a soft smile to spread on my lips before answering, "Of
course not honey."

"So I can keep doing it?"

My mouth opened but no words came out for several lengthy seconds.
"If you wish?"

A pleased smile spread on my son's lips.  "That would be great mom.
Thanks!"  Had I just given my son permission to continue to masturbate
into my panties?  Well, perhaps it was better than him sneaking around
and doing it.  And my plan had certainly succeeded - he knew that I
knew.

Then my son's eyes slowly moved downward and it shocked me when I
realized he was checking me out.  His mother!  I can not remember the
last time any man, or boy, looked at me like this - as if he could see
through my ugly jeans and loose sweatshirt.  My body tingled strangely
enough and I knew I wanted my son to look at me this way - when he was
looking at me, he was not looking at Jackie.  And when I felt his eyes
upon me, I felt rejuvenated - young.

His eyes moved down to my ugly slippers and then back up to stop at my
chest.  After a lengthy few seconds, I tore my eyes from his pleased
face and looked down at my own chest.  There above the thick
sweatshirt I could see that my nipples were pressing aggressively so
that they were plainly visible.  My son appeared infatuated with my
large heavy breasts and suddenly my knees felt weak.

Seconds later the moment was broken and Gill said happily, "Your the
best mom!"  And then two thick strong arms wrapped about me and hugged
me fiercely against him.  Even as I realized he had to feel my large
chest flattened against his strong hard chest, he let me go and
disappeared back toward his bedroom.

I stood swaying in the kitchen for long minutes afterwards.

 -*-

When Jackie returned home from her date - there was less fear within
me for the encounter.  My son had done it - given me confidence to
battle this young manipulative tramp.

As I waited for my daughters return, my husband and son had gone to
bed, and I scrubbed the already clean kitchen as I considered all that
my daughter thought of me, as I had read in her diary.

"Hello Jackie?"  The kitchen lights were the only lights still on in
the house - she had to have been drawn to the only lit room when she
finally got home.

She could not hide the surprise before it melted into a suspicious
look, "Your up late mom?"

Actually I had considered jumping my husbands bones tonight -
insisting he put down his stupid book and make love to his horny wife.
Yet I hadn't for three reasons.  One was that I don't think I would
have been successful.  Two, I feared that if I was, he would be
thinking of our daughter even as he pumped in and out of me.  Three,
Darren really is a fat disgusting pig and I had no desire for him.  If
I had attempted it - it would have been simply to win another battle
in this war that I found myself in.

"I had trouble sleeping, your father is snoring again."  Which was
true - he could shake the walls with his snoring.

She still looked suspicious, probably more to do with the fact that I
was being more civil with her than I had for a very long time.

"How was your date?"  I sipped the glass of water - because my mouth
was drying out quickly.  I was not immune to this fear I had when
confronting my daughter.

"The pig came before I could - so I am going to have to go upstairs
and handle it myself."  She smirked at her bold words.

You see, it was one of the reasons that I decided to look into my
daughters diary - into her private thoughts - as I wondered if the
bold words she used when we were alone had any truth in them.  I
unfortunately knew them to be all true in retrospect.

I think I paled because I felt light headed and my daughter smirked
even wider.

"Would you like to come upstairs and help me mom?"

I began to cough uncontrollably.  She had never spoken so boldly
before - had not propositioned me in this way before.  I reasoned that
it had something to do with what happened last night - how she had
caught me looking up her skirt and ultimately the words I read in her
diary.

She suddenly laughed without any humour and said, "Relax mother - I
was joking."  I could see within her eyes, and knew her statement had
not been a joke.  As her diary stated - she wanted to turn me into her
slave!

It was not only men that my daughter manipulated - not all her dates
were guys either.  I had read about one girl a year younger than my
daughter - how Jackie used her whenever the urge for a tongue between
her legs came upon her.  Strangely enough, though she treated the
young girl like shit - it was the longest sexual relationship my
daughter has had with anyone.  I am not surprised that my daughter
could find pleasure in men as well as women - it seemed to fit her
selfish nature.

Would Jackie had lead me upstairs and shoved my head between her legs
if I had agreed to her request?

Without a doubt I knew it to be true.

I had stayed up for a reason, coming to a plan of sorts that came to
fruition within my mind after my son had hugged me fiercely to his
bosom.  Only after that hug did I realize that one of my son's hands
had been over the hooks to my brassiere - had he been seeing if I wore
a bra with his hug?  The thought was intoxicating.  And rather than
consider it further, I turned to what had happened between Jackie and
I the night before - her words in the diary.

Why not let Jackie think one thing while I twisted it to how I
desired?  Let her think me interested in her, not so unlike her own
father is.  There is no harm and I knew it would not go to the extent
that Darren or Gill has with her.  Let her think she is twisting me
about her finger - but then only so far, let her try and get the upper
hand.  Only then would I have a power over her - turning the tables on
my immature evil daughter.

After my short discussion with Gill hours earlier, I felt I could
handle such a manipulation.  It was in the equitable spirit of my
daughter after all.

So you will now understand why I let my eyes move slowly down to her
hear-flat chest and linger there.  Gill had looked thus to me - and I
could not have missed it just like Jackie could not miss my look.

She didn't of course - and she silently let me look for some minutes
until it was obvious between us.

Only then did I look back up to her face, her forced somber look.  I
knew she wanted to laugh in triumph to call me a fat old bitch to my
face - but she thought she had the upper hand suddenly.  Moments like
this don't pass my daughter by.

To my surprise she gently spoke, "I hate how we fight mom?"  I had
expected her to comment on my look - to offer me more.

I simply nodded in agreement.

Jackie walked toward me on her nylon covered feet and then sat on a
chair perpendicular from me at the table.  She wore, of course,
another of her very short skirts and I let my eyes moved down to her
long slim black nylon covered legs as she crossed one over the other.

When I looked back up to her face I saw the tail end of a triumphant
smile before it disappeared and she again looked somber.  Her cool
hand grasped my own and held it gently.  "I know its going to take a
lot of work on my part mom, but I will do anything to help our
relationship heal."

At the end of that false statement, Jackie gently pulled my hand down
off the table and laid it palm down upon her lower thigh, just above
the knee.

My first reaction was to yank it back and berate her for such a stupid
action - but I stopped myself before I ruined my work this evening.  I
thought I could just give her a few looks and let it go at that -
letting her think me interested.  She had pushed this past that
boundary and I was on unsure ground but my objective was still in
sight and sat looking at my hand upon her warm smooth black nylon
thigh.

My mouth was very dry suddenly, not so unlike how it had been earlier
with Gill, "I hate fighting with you too Jackie."

She squeezed her hand where it still lay upon mine, over her thigh.
"I will try to be a better daughter to you mom."  Her hand draw my
hand up her thigh almost to the hem of her short skirt and I feared
she may draw it beneath to her private spot - and that I could not do,
it would be simply too much for my ruse.

I could not help but notice how soft her thin sculptured thighs were.

"I would like that too."

She withdrew her hand from mine, leaving it at the edge of her skirt.
I almost yanked my hand away but forced myself to leave it - knowing
this, like all other moments between us, a test.  In fact I was able
to give it a gentle squeeze which produced a tiny hum from my
daughter.

When I looked up again I saw that her eyes were staring at the same
spot her brothers had starred at earlier the same evening.  I knew
then, without looking, that my nipples were hard and poking against
the material of my ugly sweatshirt.

Seconds turned into minutes and I squeezed the inside of one of my
daughter's middle-thighs as she starred at my hard covered nipples.

Then Jackie suddenly stood with a, "I am so tired mom!"  Yawning for
effect.

I yanked back my hand finally, thankfully.  Though it felt as if I
still had her flesh within my fingers.

Jackie strode around the table to stand directly behind me and it took
all my strength not to turn to face her - not trusting her where I can
not see her.  Then she bent over and brought her lips just next to my
ear, "I am not perfect mom - but I will try harder to make you happy."

Then she pressed those thin cool lips against my smooth neck and
grasped one of my breasts in her long-fingered hand.

I gasped loudly in surprise - no one but my husband had touched me
there in over two decades.

Before I had time to contemplate what had just happened, and less time
than it takes to describe, the hand was removed as was the lips so
that she again stood behind me.  "Good night mother."
 
Then she was gone.

I was left trembling like a leaf alone in the silence of our family
kitchen.

 -*-

The next day was Saturday and all of us were busy running around doing
chores.  I so wanted to read in Jackie's diary just what she had wrote
about our encounter last night - wanted to see evidence that my little
play had been worth it.

Of course I was playing with fire - both with Gill and especially with
Jackie.  I could end either by simply retreating back to the defencive
and distant parent that I had always been - yet there was victory at
the end of my journey.  To feel like a desired woman again, since
Gill's attention was worth more than I told even myself.  I loved my
son more than any measure and if we were more open about using my
undergarments for his masturbation sessions - then so be it.  Jackie
was another matter - a more intelligent and malicious person I could
never have invented.  Stopping what I had started with her - she
having taken it much further than I had intended - seemed like the
sensible idea.  Yet I liked the way she calmly sat and spoke to me,
the way batted her eyes toward me.  Of course it was all an act - but
it was a minute of calm in a storm that had been building up for
years.

When Sunday afternoon rolled around I drove Gill to his soccer game,
all the while thinking about my husband staring at his daughters
near-naked body, perhaps rubbing lotion into her smooth perfect
teenage skin and I seethed.  When I pulled over next to the park Gill
asked, "You OK mom?"

I physically shook my head to clear it and smiled at my sweet son, "Of
course honey."  I looked out at the sea of bodies moving on the field
and wondered when the last time Darren or I saw one of Gill's soccer
games?  Certainly not this season.  Suddenly, my pottery class did not
seem so important and I suggested, "Would you like another spectator
today honey?"

He did not even consider trying to hide his surprise, "What about your
class mom?"

I shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile, "Your much more important
than a hunch of old women getting messy and gossipping."  Which, at
its simplest is exactly what they do.

Gill's face beamed with pleasure, "I would love it mom!"

I stood on the sidelines and watched my nearly full-gown son ran, kick
and move with grace and amazing agility while I shouted and cheered
with the loudest of spectators.  When Gill kicked a goal I jumped up
and down with excitement - his eyes moving over the crowd until they
fell upon me and we shared a wide happy private look.

Why had I not partaken in his games before?  I had never known how
exciting they were.  I was actually out of breath when the whistle
blew to the end of the game.  The players lined up to shake hands and
then stood around talking in small groups.  I waited and watched
patiently until Gill made his way over to me.

"Mom, I am going to go with some of the guys."

I felt my face fall - though I did not feel put out by his statement.
"Do you have too Gill?"  I had nothing better to suggest, at least
nothing planned.  "I thought you may want to go to a early supper with
your old mom?"

Gill looked over his shoulder, uncertain.  When he turned back to me I
saw that he again looked me over, faster than he had the other night,
seeing me in my old shorts, white socks and sneakers and a tee-shirt -
my uniform for pottery, since I tended to come home filthy.  I could
not have looked less appealing I thought - and I suddenly wished I had
planned this better, dressed to make Gill proud of me.  Hell, while I
was at it, wished I was prettier and had a sexier body - like some of
the other mom's I had noticed with jealousy.

"That sounds great mom", here it comes and I told myself not to appear
too disappointed, it was only an off-the-cuff suggestion after all,
"let me go tell the guys that I can't make it then we can go?"

I felt my face brighten up and my eyes had to tell him of my surprise
as well as my pleasure.  "Oh Gill!  Really?  Of course honey."

He ran off and I saw a few of his teammates faces turn toward me and I
again wished I had been better planned for this afternoon, had dressed
to make Gill proud of me.  I noticed that none of those boys checked
me out as I had seen my son do - it seemed to bind us closer.  At
least to me.

Gill was still in his soccer uniform and I was in my old ratty shorts
and tee-shirt - so we headed to a comfortable and trendy place that
would accept anyone.  I did not care much for it, as it was very loud,
and any chance to be alone with my son seemed very distant.  Oh
certainly it was very nice - a moment just for him and I.  For half
the meal we spoke about the game, me asking questions as well as
telling him of the moments that truly excited me.  He laughed and told
me that he had heard me shouting and clapping on the field.  The other
half of the meal was a little more awkward and we spoke about his
schooling, the weather and just about anything else not connected to
home.

On the way back to the car from the restaurant Gill suddenly pulled me
to him for a lengthy hug, the likes of which crushed my soft chest
against his own.  It took my breath away as I stood trapped in my sons
arms - feeling happier than I have in months.  Gill whispered, "I had
a great afternoon mom - thank you!"

When I stepped back into my home, with Gill following, I felt better
than I have in... years!  My heart was lightened and I strode right
past Jackie and smiled at my fat balding husband, knowing what the old
leach had been up to with his only daughter that very afternoon.  I
was becoming closer to my son and that was more important than
anything else in my life right then - yes, even my facade of a
marriage.

It was just before bedtime when I found in the laundry hamper my white
cotton panty that I had wore Friday, with a wide still-damp stain in
the crotch which could only be Gill's sperm.  Holding it before my
nose I inhaled the sharp scent of my son's tribute.
 
 -*-

Monday and the house was empty and I could barely contain my eagerness
to retrieve Jackie's diary and read about Friday, about what happened
between us.  I could not chance being caught in her room let alone
reading my daughters diary over the weekend - when everyone was coming
in and out of the house.  I had to wait until a weekday when I was
alone for hours at a time.

It did not take much effort to find the Friday night entry.

    I was right.  The fat old bitch is a lesbo!  Coming home from my
    date with that limp dick Jason - she had still been awake.  There
    was some weird vibe coming from her and I took a chance - she
    practically creamed her jeans rubbing my thigh.  And when I kissed
    her neck and gave a quick squeeze to her fat tit she probably had
    a small orgasm.  I can not believe how easy it was - I should have
    turned her into my personal cunt months ago!  I am so fucking hot
    I have to stop writing and go finger-bang myself.

An entry about her father and she, from Sunday afternoon.  Jackie
started by telling how her her father sat motionless in a chair across
from her, watching her sunbathe - before asking the same question he
does each week - if he could rub lotion into her.

    The ugly fat pig actually kissed my ass today.  God - my skin
    crawled when he did it and I may have overreacted.  Thankfully he
    was more interested in looking at my bum to have noticed my
    reaction.  I told the old bastard that it was wrong for him to do
    that and we could never do such naughty things.  Of course he
    agreed - he always agrees.  I can not believe he is my father -
    what a fucking pig.  No wonder mom gets hot by looking at me -
    with a slob like her husband for a fuck.
    
An entry surprised me - from late last night.

    Gill actually seemed disinterested in me tonight.  Fucking little
    prick.  When I asked if he would like me to visit him tonight, he
    only shrugged and mumbled something about being tired.  Tired!
    Something is up - maybe Gill has got himself a girlfriend or
    something.  Whatever it is I can't have him thinking he can deny
    me!

My heart soared with this statement - that my efforts with my son were
indeed working.  The way I felt after reading this, is that Gill could
keep using my panties for a sperm-sponge for as long as he wished.

 -*-

Gill rushed home from school Monday afternoon - long before he
normally does - and was the first home.  Again I was privileged to be
crushed in one of his strong hugs that left me short of breath.

I was sorting out the books in the study, a yearly event that took
days, when Gill came in after dropping his books off in his room until
I asked him what was on his mind.

"Do girls do it too mom?"

A fist clenched my chest and I put the books that were in my hand back
down on the table before me.  "'Do' what honey?"  I was treading
lightly as I did not want to assume anything with such a wide
statement.

Gill was sitting across from me looking rather more comfortable than I
felt.  "Do girls jerk... masturbate too?"

I had to swallow thickly before answering.  "Of course honey.  Most
every one, male or female, do."

He nodded looking thoughtfully at the floor.  "So you do it too mom?"

My face felt as if it was burning in embarrassment.  I had grown up in
a very conservative household - such things were never spoken, never
part of any conversation.  The fact that my older brothers may or may
not have done 'it' was not a topic that we ever discussed.

I had already admitted that most everyone does masturbate - there was
no other answer, "Sometimes - yes I do honey."  Its true - though it
always left me feeling more depressed and unattractive when I did do
it.  In some way it proved that I was getting old, that my husband
would rather fall asleep with a book than with his wife's body.  As if
masturbation was my only option because Darren would rather look at
our daughters skinny boy-like body than my own.  No - I did it out of
need not desire.  I had desire aplenty, but perhaps I had grown used
to living in a constant high-state of it.

He nodded as if that answer was the one he expected.  Then Gill's eyes
slowly moved over my body and I knew he was again disrobing me with
his mind.  "Do you have any other questions Gill?"  I meant it as a
way of asking him to leave so I could get this difficult chore done -
working on the large stacks of books and cleaning the dusty shelves.

He just shrugged.

I then reconsidered my reactions to his questions, his eyes.  Jackie
had manipulated her brother by revealing her body, by dominating him
to the point of humiliation.  The boy must be confused.  Here I was,
his own mother, and I had admitted to knowing his secret of using my
panties when he masturbated and that I did not mind.  Its only natural
that he was even more confused now than ever before.  I wanted my son
to grow into a strong caring man - one that could never be manipulated
by any woman, let alone his daughter, as Darren has.  I also wanted to
strengthen our relationship, to bring him to my 'side' in this war
between Jackie and I.

What harm could it do to keep the boys interest - to keep his
attention toward me rather than that tramp that lives across the hall
from him.

I strode slowly over to where my son sat and wrapped my arms about his
shaggy head of hair, drawing him to my bosom.  As soon as the side of
his face pressed between my soft mounds I felt him relax against me as
if melting.  I stroked his head of hair as he nuzzled between my
breasts - suddenly wishing I had not worn a bra beneath my tee-shirt.
I could see that my nipples were hardening, one must surely be
scratching the side of my son's face the other just before his open
eyes.  Beneath two layers of clothing, the wide hard nipple was easily
discernible.

"I want you to feel comfortable enough to come to me any time Gill?
It will be our little secret - just you and I.  And I promise that I
will always answer any question you may have."

I gently pushed his head out from between my breasts, my chest heaving
with deep laboured breaths.  Our eyes met and I saw how they looked
almost glazed over.  With his cheeks flushed and a wide goofy smile,
my son stood half-stooped over before I saw it.  There beneath his
belt was a thick bulge that could only be one thing.  Other than my
marriage bed, I don't think I have ever caused that reaction in any
male and my son did not miss my gasp and my unblinking gaze.  He
covered his crotch with two hands and mumbled something about homework
before rushing from the room.

 -*-

Supper was awkward as it always is and would be uneventful if not for
the fact that my breasts were no longer encumbered by my brassiere
beneath my tee-shirt.  There is something almost hypnotic in watching
a large breasted woman go without her harness - the way they move was
almost magical.  I admit it - I'm a woman and the sight of a woman's
large unencumbered breasts always caught my eye.

I did this for Gill sake and I gave him numerous private smiles when I
caught him gazing at my chest.  He ate supper in silence and with a
red face while barely taking his eyes off me, my chest.  I hopped my
son and I could have another chance for hug before bed tonight - I am
sure Gill never felt breasts these large pressing against him before.

Jackie noticed as well - not looking at me with an obvious lust as her
younger brother did.  Instead it was an inquisitive glare, her eyes
questioning my breasts while her mouth smiled without humour.  I
wondered if she would figure out that I was bare-chested beneath my
tee-shirt for her brothers sake?

It was Darren that never noticed a thing out of sorts at supper.  It
would take an earthquake for my husband to notice a thing different
about me.

After dessert, Gill rushed from the kitchen with another obvious
erection and I wondered if he would use another of my panties to
relive himself.  I hoped he did.

Gill disappeared into the basement, to watch television.

Which left Jackie smiling knowingly waiting for us to be alone.  I
knew my change of dress would bring on another confrontation with my
daughter - but knew it had to be endured.  I simply ignored her until
she stood up from the table and came to stand behind me at the sink
while I washed the pots from supper.

"I have been thinking about what we talked about the other night mom?"
She moved so close behind me that I could feel her warm breath on the
back of my neck.

I played dumb, "Oh?  What was that Jackie?"

She moved forward until her front was pressed into my back, my hips
suddenly shoved against the hard marble counter.  Her lips came down
and gently kissed my neck again and I gasped, lightly, in surprise and
froze with my hands still in the hot dish water.

Damn my daughter was a suggestive little tramp!

It did not surprise me when her hands came around and both grasped my
unencumbered breasts above my thin tee-shirt.  Yet I still gasped
loudly at the intimate touch - not many hands had touched me there.

She whispered into my ear between small kisses upon my sensitive neck,
"Do you want me to stop mother?"

Of course I did - but I could not say that and still play my part in
this little charade, so instead, stayed silent.

Jackie chuckled as if taking my silence for an admission for her to
continue.  Her hands kneaded my large breasts rather expertly - so
that my nipples were so hard they hurt and my body trembled against my
daughter.  Her lips attacked my neck as aggressively as her hands
fondled my breasts - the combination left me heaving for breath and
trembling with need.

Indeed this was a dangerous game I was playing.

Perhaps knowing that her mother was rising that erotic summit faster
than any normal woman should - let alone one being fondled by her own
daughter.  Jackie stopped, removed her hands and lips from my body and
stepped back a step.  She spin me about to face her with her hands on
my shoulder so that I had to look up to stare into her face, she being
a few centimetres taller than I.  I could see the humour in her eyes,
how she perceived me within the grasp of her evil dominance.

Jackie then grasped the bottom of my old tee-shirt and pulled it up to
my neck exposing my bare chest.  I did nothing but stand on unsteady
legs, holding the counter behind me for support, as her rough hands
suddenly let go of my tee-shirt and suddenly filled her cold thin paws
with overflowing breast-flesh.

I had never known anyone to be so bold, so direct in either action or
words as my own daughter is acting now.  A part of me wished this was
happening with another person and at a happier time in my life - as my
body was reacting rather aggressively to the bold touches when I
wanted it to stay coldly detached, controlled.

Jackie leaned in and brought her lips to my own - I could not help but
turn my face away, fear of what she was doing.  My seventeen year-old
daughter simply chuckled and then licked my cheek until it was coated
in her saliva.  I was panting uncontrollably now and was in real fear
of falling to the tiled hard floor.

"Thank you for your gift mother - I appreciated it!"  Her hands
roughly squeezed the flesh of by chest so that I whimpered with
pleasure and not a little pain.  Jackie actually thought I had left my
brassiere off for her sake - so much the better.  A sudden guilt that
this was not Gill touching me so commonly, my wish to draw him closer
to me - but rather it was from the daughter that I could barely stand
to be in the same room with.

I turned my head to face her again as she glared boldly into my eyes.
"Hold your tits up mother."

In a raspy voice, "What?"  I had no conception what she was talking
about - my head was rather befuddled at that moment.  I tried to
detach myself from this scene - to be impartial, but it was near
impossible with the waves of desire rolling through my body.

Instead of being patient to explain it to me, she let go of my breasts
and yanked my hands from the edge of the counter behind me and shoved
them upon my own chest.  Again she shoved the tee-shirt back up to my
neck so that I was presenting my large naked chest to her so brazenly.
She simply said, "Nice!"  Before leaning over and engulfing one hard
wide nipple into her mouth.

The gasp that escaped me this time was so loud I thought the whole
house must have heard it.  Jackie may have thought that way too -
standing back up before me wearing a smug smile.  "You have delicious
breasts mother.  I wished we had more time to enjoy them?"

I was conscious enough to keep this charade in play and mumbled
something like, "I would like that."  Even the words replaced my
desire with fear.

What the hell had I gotten myself into.

 -*-

The pace of my manipulation of Jackie was going faster and much
further than I had ever intended.  In fact I seriously questioned my
ability to deny my daughter, to assert myself over her at the right
moment and time.  That was the crux of my plan - to bring her to a
state of awareness so that she knew I held all the cards.  To that
end, it was not going as planned.

I barely slept that night - reliving those few moments between us over
and over.  The realization that I had been so hot and passionate could
not be ignored.

Perhaps some of the things in my daughter's diary were not so far off
from the truth, that I was 'closed minded and sexually repressed'.  If
this was not true - why would I act so uncontrollably with my own
daughters touch?  Or from discovering that my son may actually find me
sexy enough to masturbate with my panties?

I successfully ignored my daughter and husband until they left Tuesday
morning.  I caught Gill just before he left and told him that I would
pick him up after school just before hugging him tightly against my
tee-shirt covered chest, which he smiled with pleasure after
disengaging.  It was a little tease on my part - but I did not move as
his eyes jumped down to my chest, to my inevitable nipples, that grew
as he starred, while I starred at his face as it steadily turned red.

The day went quickly and I did not have the willpower to confront my
daughters thoughts in her diary.  I did not want to read about how
easily she was able to control me, or how hot I became in her own
written words.  What I did want was to take back that loss of control
- and I knew Gill would be a willing participant in my decision.  I
bought lingerie that I knew men liked, but had never worn before, and
even new clothing before spending nearly a full hour preparing myself
before picking my son up at school.

Just before it was time to leave, I stood before the mirror feeling
like a different woman.  Darren likes his wife to be completely naked
when we coupled and I had never worn thigh-high stockings that I did
now - beneath the skirt that came to a point just above my knees.  It
was shockingly short - for this middle-aged middle-class married woman
- but I thought I looked very fine.  Perhaps I no longer looked like a
bubbly cute teenager nor the calm anxious-to-experience-the-world
twenty-something - but it did not matter as much to me, as I stood
there appraising myself.

So it was a sexy-feeling playful woman that waited before the high
school for her only son.  This is how I should have dressed when I
went to his soccer game - he should be proud of his old mother.  I
wanted my son's friends to look at me with admiration, knowing that
this mother wanted only to please her son by looking the best she can
be and by giving the attention her son deserved.

Gill finally slipped into the car, buckled himself in and then turned
toward me all in one smooth motion - his eyes growing wide before a
whistle eventually escaped him.  "Wow mom!  You look great!"

"Thank you honey."  I meant it - and greatly enjoyed the compliment
from the only person I deemed worthy enough to dress this way for.  I
had dressed in a dark blue skirt that barely covered the top of my
white thigh-high stockings and a white blouse.  As I put the car into
drive, I knew my son could tell that I had not worn any brassiere as
well - I certainly could tell, my nipples were already hard and my
breasts swayed suggestively with the motion of the car.

It was the first time in a very long while that a man had said
anything like a compliment to me - let alone one based on my
appearance.

While I drove, Gill could not take his eyes off me as I pretended to
concentrate on driving - not sure if he should look at my shapely,
though a little heavy in my opinion, thighs, or my swaying breasts
beneath the expensive blouse.

Finally he thought to ask, "Where are we going mom?"

The sly knowing smile came to my lips, "Its a surprise honey."  I
wondered how Gill's large strong hands would feel upon my bare breasts
in comparison to his older sisters thin cold rough hands.  The thought
caused a little shiver to run down my spine - ending between my legs.
I pressed my nylon-covered knees together at the next set of lights -
knowing my son saw the movement and wondered if he understood why I
did it?  If not the reason behind it.

All the way across town was a small exclusive store.  Oh sure, for you
and I, we may pass it numerous times and never see it.  But for boys
my son's age, boys that lived and breathed soccer - it was the best
thing besides... well, girls.  The store was a tiny cluttered affair
with brightly coloured flags hanging everywhere, team country flags.
The walls, where there was any room from the various products they
had, had posters of players that my son knew by heart.

His face as he moved through the store was pure joy and the Italian
man behind the counter began to speak in a language only soccer
players seemed to understand.  They spoke about the great players in
the greatest of games - about the crowds that watched those games and
about the injustices known throughout other soccer-lovers, as these
two obviously were.  When my son pointed to a small spike in a glass
case - the man explained with pride that it came from one of Gill's
favourite players, when he fell and tore his knee just the previous
year.

I walked around behind my son, my eyes roaming everywhere - but mostly
over my excited son - and silently giving him the joy of this moment.
I reassured him when he wanted to get a Wales jersey - that it was OK
- and he chose the most expensive spike shoes they had.  I simply
nodded my acceptance with a smile.

I too was enjoying this - giving of pleasure can be, in itself, a very
joyous thing.  Especially to the one you love.

When it came time to pay for the goods - I pointed to the spike in the
glass case and asked if we could purchase this too.  A thick silence
filled the small shop and the man whispered the price across the
counter to me - appearing embarrassed at the very large retail quote.

Well, my husband worked hard for his money and I had never truly asked
for much.

I smiled widely and nodded for it to be included in the total.

Gill sat in the car holding the small glass case as if it was the most
valuable thing in the world.  Well, in his world - perhaps it was, as
it had been very expensive and I was sure have a confrontation with
Darren when he got the credit card bill.  It even seemed to take
precedence over his eyes feasting upon my thighs or swaying breasts -
though I am proud to admit that these were not completely forgotten.

I drove up to a very nice restaurant and parked the car, "Any supper
plans?"

Gill looked at me surprised - "What about Jackie and dad?"

I just shrugged playfully, "They can figure out how to make something
themselves or starve."

I unhooked the seatbelt and when I looked back toward my son I found
him leaning in toward me.  His arms wrapped about my shoulders and he
pulled me against him fiercely.  This time I knew it was not only for
the sake of feeling my unfettered breasts against his wide hard chest
- and for that, it was especially pleasurable.  "Thank you mom - its
the best gift I've ever gotten."

I felt so proud - so happy.

Then my son pulled his face so that it was just before my own, our
noses almost touching and our eyes locked.  I saw his happiness turn
serious just before he tilted his head and pressed his lips to my own.

It startled me so much that I had no reaction to his aggressive and
unskilled kiss.  And that was what it was - it was not a peck to a
parent, but an adolescent with little practise kissing a girl he was
sweet on.  When I realized what he was doing he suddenly drew away
from me, his face bright red and he returned to his side of the car
and mumbled, "I am sorry mom."

I whipped the saliva from about my mouth, "For what Gill?"  I tried to
sound calm, collected - even while my mind was coming to realization
that my son had just tried to kiss me... as a man would.

He could not look at me as he mumbled embarrassed, "I couldn't help it
mom.  I'll never do it again!"

That last statement shook me more than it should have - mothers do not
receive open mouthed, though awkward, kisses from their teenage sons.
My words only came after a short pregnant pause, "Well its all over
now Gill - no harm done."

He still could not look at me.  "If you had wanted me to do something
like that - you would have told me."

Suddenly it was his sister that I heard mouthing those words - perhaps
something I had read from her diary.  Yes, something about training
her 'moronic brother' to do only what he is told and not to think for
himself.

Had Gill lost control and was now fearing the consequences or
recriminations as, most certainly, Jackie would deliver if our places
were reversed?

"Honey?  Please look at me?"  His face slowly rose and his eyes
followed seconds later until they looked into my own - he looked like
a dog that was about to get a beating.  I needed to reassure him, to
rebuild his confidence and self-respect.  "Some women like it when the
man takes charge."

Gill frowned as I saw him considering my words before he countered
carefully with a question, "You are like that mom?  Do you want me to
take charge?"

I knew I only blinked in reaction but inside my mind exploded in
surprise - I had not meant that it was about him and I!  Suddenly I
stood on dangerous ground and needed to take a verbal step back here,
"Sometimes honey.  With the right man of course."  That should do it -
I was a woman after all, and yes I masturbate and yes I desired a man
to tell me how best to please him - but no that man was not him, could
never be him.  He had to see that!

The best sexual moments in my life, with Darren of course, had been
years ago but they had been when he had aggressively taken charge of
our joining, had verbally told me what to do - it had been the man I
had married, but it was no longer the man I was married too.

Still seated sideways facing me but in his own seat, Gill seemed to be
considering something when his large strong hand reached across the
gap between our seats and clasped over my white nylon-covered thigh,
just above the knee and below the hem of my skirt.  "I want to be that
man for you mom?"

Evidently my son had come to the wrong conclusion between us.  I shook
my head negatively and mumbled incoherently until finally I was able
to say, "...its impossible Gill...!"

He yanked his hand off me as if I had burned him, his eyes flashing
angrily at me and then lower, to my chest.  "Then why did you stop
wearing your bra?"

My daughter Jackie had assumed incorrectly, upon noticing my
brassiere-less chest, that I had not adorned it for her sake.  My son
was assuming the same thing.

Yet he was correct in the fact that I had not worn it because of him -
he had misunderstood why I had done it.  If you remember, when I
discovered Gill was being manipulated sexually by his sister but held
some fascination for me, I wanted to draw him away from Jackie.  If I
could not have my family back, I wanted my son.  I wanted his love.
And in a way to draw him away from my sexually aggressive dominating
daughter, I had allowed him to enjoy the sight of my unencumbered
bosoms - it had been the focus of every male that I had come across.
My breasts are my best feature - ask any man.

This is not the way I had thought things would work out between us.

Jackie is a sexually knowledgeable and intelligent woman who knew how
to manipulate and use people for her evil wishes.  My son Gill was of
average intelligence and unimaginative while also being sexually
naive.  What had just transpired between us was his way of finding
himself, of experimenting with his sexual appetite and the boundaries
that he could not yet conceive of.  Should he learn to be used by his
sister until she threw him away as she does with all other guys that
cross her path?

My voice had returned but my throat was so dry it came out raspy, "I
did it for you Gill.  I wanted to make you happy."

My son looked at me like I was demented.  Perhaps he was not so wrong
after all.  I felt half mad with all the things going on in my life.

"I never meant to tease you honey?"  I didn't.  I felt the tears begin
and feared my mascara would run if I began to cry and took a deep
breath to calm myself.

"Is that why you bought me those things today - to make me happy?"  He
was practically yelling at me, it was a voice I had never heard him
use before.

I nodded - it was why I had bought them.  To seduce him from the dark
side, his sister.  But he did not need to know that.

"Telling me it was OK to jerk off in your panties was a way to make me
happy too?"

The tears did start at that moment and I did not bother trying to stop
them any longer.  I felt miserable - cheated by my own questionable
attempt to have someone love me.

"I thought you wanted me to mess up your panties mom?  I thought it
turned you on?"

My god I felt miserable, I had told him that I felt flattered that he
was masturbating with my panties, not that I wanted him to do it.  My
nose was running and I sniffed loudly in the confined space.

"I thought you dressed like that because you loved me and wanted me?"

There was no misunderstanding about this statement, he meant 'wanted
me' in the more biblical sense.

He finally turned away and I heard a sob come from him before he
continued, "You looked so sexy today and I was feeling so happy that I
thought you wanted me how I wanted you."

That was the moment that I leaned forward toward his side of the car
seat and reached up with my hand to gently grasp his strong chin. I
drew his face back toward me and I leaned in without a seconds
hesitation.  My head tilted perfectly with his and my lips pressed
against him as I lovingly and passionately kissed my only son.  He
reciprocated in that he returned the same kisses that I was giving
him.

Though our oral joining I felt his surprise build and her humiliation
and anger leave him.  And as his kisses became marginally more
aggressive I realized how sexually hungry my teenage son was.  His
sister had recognized and used this need for her own selfish desires -
I promised myself that I would never dominate Gill in that way.

A big strong hand suddenly grasped my large breast almost violently as
my son groaned with need through our spread lips and into my mouth.

I had initiated this kiss to heal the fracture in our relationship and
I knew that I could not draw away from his touches ever again.  Not if
I wished to keep the trust and love of my only son.  Perhaps he would
want things from me that I was not prepared to give, things that
society would be horrified if it ever become known - and I would
willingly do them with and for him.  I loved this young man like no
other, with emotion that I've never held for anyone else - even my
husband in the early years of our marriage.

He was gasping into my mouth now, pressing his lips aggressively
against my own, yet I instinctively knew that he had no intentions of
ending this kiss.

This first real kiss between us was more passionate than another other
experience that I could recall.  If that is not a sad statement about
my entire life - I do not know what is?

The hand upon my breast removed itself and it was my turn to groan
into my son's mouth, at the loss of this intimate touch.  There was
some fumbling before that same hand pulled my own from his shoulder
and moved it to his lap.

I found a very hard circumcised penis thrusting from his hastily
opened trousers.  I gasped in surprise and delight past Gills hungry
lips.  His breathing stopped as soon as my cool fingers touched its
ribbed hot surface - as if waiting for what I did next.  My hand may
be small, I had no idea how small until I encircled my son's penis and
realized I could not touch my thumb to my forefinger...  so thick was
he.

Gill again attacked my breast, raping it through my expensive, and now
well wrinkled, blouse.

He was acting out of some animal instinct and not with the brain in
his skull.  Yet he had lost control because of me, with me - and that
was a delicious concept to this sexually lonely and repressed woman.
My hand moved smoothly up and down with experience as I stroked that
beautiful organ.

Seconds after I started to masturbate my son he suddenly gasped and
froze, his lips wide and his hands like claws against the soft flesh
of my chest, before I felt his penis begin to pump.

Unlike the frequent disappointing moments in Darren and my marriage,
when he had orgasmed without any consideration for my needs - this
moment between mother and son was nothing short of magical.

I reluctantly tore my lips from his and looked down at Gill's lap -
seeing the purple penis, my son's cock, pumping its seed.  I saw the
third spurt shoot out the smooth crown of his cock and land midway to
his sternum on his shirt.  I saw more spots upon both of us from his
two earlier ejaculations.  The next spurt, less aggressive now, pumped
out and over the head of his cock and down onto the back of my
fingers.  It was incredibly hot to the touch and an urge to smell and
taste it nearly overwhelmed me!

Gill slowly relaxed and fell backward so that his head was resting on
the headrest of the car seat.  His eyes though, were watching me
closely.

I still had my hand wrapped about his penis, but both were now still.
I imagined I could feel the blood escaping back to his body as his
cock slowly shrunk back to softness and a size that was not too
startling for this sexually naive woman.

In truth, I did not want to remove it.

The moment was past, my son had ejaculated with his mothers hand
helping.  It was slowly becoming awkward again in the confined space
of the car.  I looked around, out all the windows, and saw that we had
no spectators.  Thank god!

My cheeks were still wet from my earlier tears - though I felt no
sorrow any longer - though my mascara must make me look frightful.  My
lips were tingling and my chin was soaked with our mingled saliva.  I
again looked at my son's face and saw that he sported a wet lower face
as well.  He still looked at me soberly, perhaps judging his parent -
a woman that did this with her only son.  What must he think of me?
Was this worth the rest of our lives - could it be as good as I am
sure he had fantasized about?

It was the right moment and I spoke with bare emotion, "I love you
Gill.  You are that man... the only man for me."

His gaze softened noticeably and he looked down, mild surprise on his
face, at the mess he had left upon us.  When was the last time I had
jerked off a guy in the car - I had to have been only a little older
than Gill!

"Would you do something for me mom?"

Yes, my heart screamed in reply, anything!  "Yes honey?"

In my rare fantasies I had considered some things that my husband
would never do, would never accept the action if I tried it.  I again
looked down at the large quantity of sperm my son had ejaculated and
felt my mouth water for a taste.

Ask me my love?  Tell me to lick my soiled hand clean - to lick your
beautiful cock as well!

"Would you take your panties off and use them to clean us up?"  He
suddenly looked embarrassed at his request when I returned my
surprised eyes to his.

This was not expected - but it was deliciously correct for our
relationship.  I nodded to him, concentrating so that my pleasure was
not so obvious.  It was my mother's advice all over - telling me not
to expect to enjoy my marriage bed, to learn to 'endure' and a lady
never likes 'that'.

With regret I removed my hand from his soft member and looked down at
the thick warm fluid he had deposited upon me earlier.  Again I felt a
urge to taste it - and logically assumed that if I dug beneath my
clothes for my panties, I would mess up my thighs and new skirt with
it.

This was my son's decision and it was what I wanted as well - to
deliver his request as best I could.  Damn the new skirt.  Damn my
husband and damn Jackie as well!  Suddenly the thought that I would
forever more be my son's secret little slut was appealing to me - a
role I had never considered before.

I felt the warm sperm soil through the tops of my stockings, the flesh
of my thighs and then the inside of my new skirt as I slipped my hands
up my hips.  The hem of it rose above the top edge of the elastic of
my white thigh-high stockings and Gill grunted, "Nice mom!"  I was
able to push my underwear down past my hips without exposing myself -
not that it mattered, but I felt it necessary to keep a mystery
between us.  And if he wanted to see what I had between my legs Gill
could always tell me to show him.  I had to step out of my high heels
to draw the garment off my legs before the awkward task, in the small
space before the drivers seat of my car, was done.

Overflowing my hand was a lace panty the likes of which my body had
never before worn.  I had felt so naughty as I had considered buying
it at the lingerie shop that I knew I just had to wear it beneath this
new skirt and blouse.  The sales woman had been a little too helpful
for this bashful middle-class repressed woman and told me it was a
'thong'.  There was nothing to hide the flesh of my ass in this
garment, as barely a string would run up my backside.  When I had
purchased it, I thought about my panty-line-less ass in the new skirt,
not that I would be removing it in the car at my son's request.  The
front was white lace, so that nothing beneath it could be hidden.  The
waist was cut high, and perfect for my curvy hips, or so I had
thought.  Between this panty and the stockings I had felt more
desirable and alive than ever before.  Add in the new, and perfect for
my frame, skirt and blouse - it was one of the reasons I felt like a
new woman this day. The other, of course, was how Gill was making me
feel.

There was a seconds embarrassment at what I held in my hand before I
stole a look at my son an saw a wide smile.  My hesitation melted away
like snow in the spring.

I again turned in my seat toward my son, having been forced to face
straight ahead to remove my panty, and slowly leaned over enough to
rub my still-warm panty over his soft penis.  I felt like the naughty
seductress in a old French film and I loved it.  My undergarment was
not the most absorbent material, having never thought that it be a
prerequisite before buying it, and made more of a mess than cleaned
one.  Though, I supposed, that was not the point of using it for this
task was it?

Gill watched every movement with a pleased look upon his face and love
in his eye.  For that look to be directed at me I knew that this, what
had just happened so unexpectedly here, was well worth it.

I took his soft cock in my soiled hand again, but only with between my
finger and thumb, as I continued to clean him.

Gill's voice came out dry and raspy as my own had earlier, "Is your
cunt wet mom?"

Believe me if I say that no one had ever asked me that before, not
even my husband had used the more common usage of my anatomy in my
presence.  In the early years of my marriage, when we rutted wilfully
and frequently, he always called it his 'little pussy', sometimes
accompanied by mewing sounds while laughing at his own inane joke.
Now my son was asking me if that place between my legs, my 'little
pussy', was excited - wet.  Did he wish to do more with me I thought
passionately?

"Yes honey, it is."  I tried to sound as calm as I could - but my
heart had begun to beat fast yet again and I thought I sounded
breathless.  The penis in my hand, the cock, twitched slightly and I
thought I felt it swell at my answer.  It was the truth - I could feel
the heat of myself searing into the tops of my soft thighs, I could
feel the abundant hot moisture leak out of that same place.  It felt
more excited than I could ever remember, especially without some
physical contact to help it along.  Since he had not responded to my
answer, I stole a look up and gave him a soft smile.  My 'little
pussy', my cunt, wanted him like it had never wanted another man in my
life.

When I saw that the cock in my hand was indeed increasing in size and
that my lace white panty was simply smearing his earlier ejaculate
over his clothing, I stopped in my work and looked deeply into my
son's eyes.  I tried to scream to him, with that kilometre-long gaze,
my desire to be vigorously and seriously fucked by his beautiful cock,
this beautiful man.

Of course the location had much to be desired - and at that moment a
foursome came out of the intimate front of the restaurant and was
approaching our car.

Gill rushed to tuck himself back into his slacks as he grunted, "Lets
go home mom."

And with that statement - I knew my hopes of being properly shagged
had disappeared, at least for this evening.

 -*-

Slipping into our home was easier than we both feared, what with our
spotted clothing being more than a little obvious.  Darren was in the
basement watching, you guessed it, television.  And Jackie was not at
home.

When we first stepped into the house and found it silent, except for
the noise of the television downstairs, Gill had stopped me at the
base of the stairs going up to the bedrooms.  He whispered while
leaning toward me, a naughty but playful smile on his face, "Will you
find time to jerk off before bed tonight mom?"

My first instinct was to correct my sixteen year-old son, that women
do not 'jerk off', but I wisely stayed that impulse.  The next thought
I had was 'why not?'  I certainly deserved it - my body, and
particularly between my legs, was on fire.  I nodded in anxious
agreement, "I will do that Gill."

Before we could part, he added, "Will you think of me when you do it
mom?"

I felt the wide smile spread my lips and the playful spark light my
eyes as I answered honestly, "I don't think I have any choice in that
Gill."

We laughed without making any noise and then wrapped his arms about me
happily for another of his fierce hugs.  One of his hands slipped down
and grasped my full round ass roughly and possessively and caused me
to jerk up upon the toes of my heels.  His other hand would have done
the same, I was sure, if he had not had my soiled lace panty balled up
within it.  Gill whispered into my ear, "I love your ass mom!"

What more could a girl ask for!

 -*-

The rest of the evening was uneventful - I made Gill and I a late
supper after I quickly took a shower and changed into my old ratty
jeans and tee-shirt, no bra.  Our soiled clothing having been buried
in the bottom of the laundry hamper - to be washed first thing in the
morning.  Though alone at the kitchen table, Darren and I ate silently
- sharing numerous lengthy private looks.  I felt alive, I felt
desired and I felt that I had won the final battle in the war between
Jackie and I.  All that was left was the mopping up of the mess.

Of course no war is ever won without causalities - so naive was I,
that I had forgotten this.

My daughter could never manipulate her younger brother after what
happened between us this day - of that I was sure.  He did not have to
put up with his sisters evil demands when he could find happiness with
his mother, a woman he found desirable and loved if the evidence was
closely examined.  Suddenly my home did not feel so constricting, so
threatening and dangerous.  In my willingness to succumb to Gill's
lusts, and to my own if the reader can understand anything about this
woman, I felt more empowered to fight the tramp that was my very own
daughter.

My husband Darren was more distant the whole evening than most - only
mumbling incoherently to my questions about having some of the supper
I made.  Nothing could twist the happiness that I had filled my soul
this evening and I simply shrugged and left him alone.  The only time
Darren came up from the basement - was when the late news was over and
he headed up to the bedroom for bed.  Having no desire to see his fat
naked body, I stayed away until I was sure he was asleep before
following.

I had one further task before bed though - one that I was looking
forward too with near-adolescent pleasure.  I put on my knee length
over-sized well-worn tee-shirt but forgot my plain cotton white panty
beneath.  Stealing a look at my snoring husband, I slipped out of my
bedroom and made my way to the basement.

It felt naughty and delicious as I tread silently upon my bare feet
down the two levels of stairs.  The house was silent and I was
shivering from expectant and barely contained pleasure rather than the
chilled night air.  My breasts bounced within my loose tee-shirt but
the friction that movement forced upon my nipples had nothing to do
with why they were rock hard.

The family room in the basement was the most secluded place in the
house.  It needed to be, what with the quantity that Darren liked to
watch the television at.  It also sported an old but extremely
comfortable and very large couch.

I was feeling adventurous and daring - I had chosen my spot to
pleasure myself.  Something I had never done when anyone else was at
home and never out of the privacy of my own room.  What had happened
between Gill and I earlier that evening had more than a physical
effect upon this middle-aged woman.

I turned on a small desk lamp and dropped heavily and playfully onto
the couch, laying lengthwise upon it.  I was looking forward to this,
perhaps the first time that I ever felt that way for what I was about
to do.  Yet Gill had requested this, had seemed anxious for me to do
this.  I wanted to enjoy it - my body needing it after the last few
days to be honest - and I wanted to whisper what I had done to my son
tomorrow to see his reaction.

This middle-aged repressed woman was turning deliciously naughty and I
loved her more for it.

There was no preliminary - as there was no reason for it this evening.
I was already wet, the inside of my thighs down to my knees, slick
with it.  I simply lifted the bottom edge of my tee-shirt up to my
neck, sat upon my bare ass, spread my knees wide and began.  One of my
hands went to my big sensitive breasts, trying to grasp one as Gill
had done earlier, and of course failing - nothing could duplicate him
though.  The other hand went between my legs to the untrimmed full
bush and through that to the pink wetness beneath.

I replayed the events from earlier through my mind, the sudden
realization that my son was ejaculating in my hand and then the first
sight of it doing so as I tore my lips from his.  In this slow motion
replay I could remember more details than when the event actually
occurred - the smell of his sweaty teenage body, the sharp metallic
scent of his sperm, the distant thick earthy scent of my own sex.  I
could hear him panting for breath, groaning as only a man can sound
and my own gasps of surprise and pleasure.  As I relived it yet again,
my chest heaved laboriously as it had when I felt my son jerk his
sperm out his cock all the while within my hand.

Then I skipped moments of the memory, as fantasies often do, and added
my own twist to the tale.  My son reaching out, grasping the back of
my head and then gently but strongly guiding my face downward, across
the seats and directly into his lap.  There before my eyes was his
soiled cock, my hand still upon it, his sperm everywhere.  Then in my
fantasy, Gill said, "Lick me clean mommy!"  And I stretched my neck,
in my oh-so-real dream, to get a large dollop of ejaculate that was
upon the back of my hand... and then... I orgasmed.

The hand between my legs worked expertly upon the top of my vagina,
manipulating my sensitive and swollen clitoris to perfection.  My
heels dug into the soft and worn cushions of the couch and I shoved my
hips up so that my bare ass rose above my seat.  I screeched with
longing and release as the waves of pleasure took control of me and I
drifted within its wake.  Only after that tidal wave of pleasure
started to subside, my body collapsing upon the couch, did reality
return and I mewed with pleasure, giggling in self-congratory delight.

Without a doubt, that was the best orgasm I had ever gave myself -
probably the best orgasm ever, regardless if I had company or not.

Then I heard hands clapping loudly and when I tore my eyes open I saw
Jackie seated across from me in the shadows.

I had forgotten to check to see if she had returned home before going
to the basement.  The way she was dressed, it looked like she was just
getting back from one of her dates.  Perhaps she had been looking for
her father in the basement and had noticed a light coming from
downstairs so she had tread quickly only to discover her mother
frigging herself mercilessly.

"Well done mom!  I am just learning how hot a little slut you really
are!"  Her hands finally stopped clapping as I slapped my thighs
together and then jerked my tee-shirt back down to my knees.  Jackie
has this way of putting me directly into an awkward position.  She
shock her head in mock disappointment, "Don't cover yourself mother -
you are a surprisingly delicious sight.  Your cunt is a little hairy -
but you will shave it tomorrow for my sake right slut?"  My daughter
chuckled evilly.

Rather than feel humiliation or fear, I felt a growing anger within
me.  It was empowering and I knew that I had my son to thank for this
renewed woman.

I had wondered what Gill would think of the abundant, though well
shaped, bush between my legs.  Perhaps Jackie's suggestion had some
merit - as my son had yet ventured down there, I should think his
reaction to it being smooth and hair-free to be rather a memorable
moment between us.  "Yes, I'll do it Jackie."

My voice sounded rather somber to my ears and Jackie suddenly turned
her head slightly, as she does when she gets suspicious and is
thinking, and squinted at me questioningly.  She was a sly tramp and
one that I had to be constantly aware of - she could not know that I
did not fear her, could not be controlled by her any longer.  "I am
not sure what your father will say though."

Jackie chuckled at the mention of her bald overweight father, "Oh, you
do not have to worry about dad mom!"  She sounded so self-assured that
I wondered what had happened, remembering how distant Darren had acted
when Gill and I had gotten home.  Suddenly I wished I could go and
read Jackie's diary - to know and understand what was in the mind of
my evil teenage daughter.

"Are you not going to ask me where I have been tonight mother?"

As if reluctant, though I was anything but, I asked as ordered, "Where
were you this evening Jackie?"

My daughter held something that sparkled in the single small lamp
light and it took some seconds for me to realize that it was keys.
"Oh, I was out driving my new car that dad bought me."  She acted so
smug that I felt pure hatred at the sight of her.  Of course I knew
that some transaction had transpired - if not today then only last
Sunday, she having gone further than letting her paternal parent
fondle her body in pretence of applying suntan lotion to it.  Her own
diary had admitted to the necessity of succumbing to her fathers lust,
if only to continue to be soiled by him.  Darren's distance toward me
all this evening was nothing but guilt - not at buying a car for his
oldest child, but for his incestuous actions with her that she used to
convince him to buy the car for her.

I could sympathize with my husband - but did not share his guilt.  The
things I did, and wanted to do, with Gill caused all manner of
emotions within me - but never guilt.  I have lived a lonely and
repressed life for far too long to feel anything but happiness at
finally finding it with a man that loved and desired me.  The problem
that Darren had, was that he was being used by his own selfish desires
- and he knew it.  He had to live with it.

"In fact, I met up with Gerry and the two of us properly christened my
new car."  My ear heard some slurring of her words and knew my
daughter was inebriated.  That would explain her bold words, no longer
playing the coy daughter trying to seduce her mother - she was playing
her role more honestly, the evil tramp trying to use her mother.

Then Jackie yanked her very short cheap skirt up to her waist and
spread her long thin tanned legs.  I could see the dark satin panty
covering her crotch as she pointed to it with her index finger.  "Why
don't you crawl over here and show me how much you want me to be your
good little daughter mother!"  She then chuckled to herself a sound
like she were the spawn of the devil rather than my daughter.

How far could I take this?  At what point do I stand up and tell the
little tramp that the jig was over, that she was only a soiled little
girl.  Surely I could not crawl over to her and put my face between
her skinny teenage thighs - could I?  If I stood up for myself now, it
could end in disaster - Gill and I.  I had no leverage over my
daughter as yet, I had nothing to forever control our relationship and
just get her out of my life.

Is that what I wanted - to never see my own daughter ever again?

Yes it is.  The things I had read in her diary, the words she had
spouted toward me had all done irreconcilable damage to our
relationship.  She may be my daughter but she is now old enough to
leave me and my home.  The daughter I had borne, that I loved had
grown up into this evil person that I no longer needed in my life.

A cold fear grasped my heart - what would happen if Jackie discovered
Gill and I?  Surely we would forever be in her evil clutches if that
ever happened.  Yet if I could turn that around and catch her and
Darren...?

With that realization I slipped off the couch and onto the harsh
carpet of the basement floor, onto my knees.

Jackie's smile broadened and she giggled to herself, her eyes feasting
upon her parent kneeling across the room from her, as instructed.  I
began to crawl slowly on my hands toward her feeling cold-hearted but
determined to complete this distasteful task.  What that task was held
no surprise, as my daughter hooking her fingers into the elastic
leg-band of her panty and drew it aside.  I was crawling directly
toward the hairless crack of my daughters vagina.

I had done distasteful sexual acts before - even with my husband.  Oh,
nothing as adventurous as what Gill and I started today - but acts
that I may not want to do, feeling no passion toward.  What wife had
not have to spread her legs while her half-drunk or half-asleep
husband pumped into her barely-wet sex?

Jackie's index finger slipped up and down her crevice and I saw the
glistening moister even in this dim shadowed light.  "Thats it
mother... crawl to Jackie!"  I arrived just before the chair and
between my daughters spread knees - then sat back onto the heels of my
feet.  "Your baby girl needs you to do something for her!"  She
crackled with malicious humour while I studied the female sexual organ
before me.  This was the closet I have ever been to another woman's
genitals - they looked familiar but different than my own, other than
my full bush of course.  What I mean is, all the parts are the same
and located where expected - yet the outer lips were longer, thinner,
the inner labia almost a dark brown to my bright pink, and the
clitoris much smaller than my own.  With that drool analytical thought
I knew this would be a chore that I could accomplish.  The few times
Darren had gone down on me had been a fumbling mess, on his part, but
semi-enjoyable on mine.  I was too repressed to voice instructions
down to my husband, to tell him to slow down, to pay more attention to
my clitoris, to not yank my vaginal lips wide spread with his fingers.

Looking at that smooth teenage cunt before me, I instinctively
understood what needed to be done to get this task over.  So with but
a moments hesitation, mostly spent in contemplation and examination, I
leaned forward and began.

The thin teenage body trembled as my lips touched the top of the
crevice.  I did not stop there, but slowly slipped my tongue out and
began to gently lap at the outer labia.  I used patience and
persistence and soon was rewarded with the inner pink lips enlarging
and pressing my daughters petal open like a flower coming into bloom.

I stole a peek up her thin frame to catch her wildly delighted eyes,
the wide triumphant smile.  My daughter thought that she had won
herself a little cunt-slave, just as her diary had foretold - but what
she had instead achieved as a woman angry enough to do anything to rid
herself of a vile person.

I ignored the small hooded clitoris that had grown with excitement and
moved lower upon my daughters body.  Both my hands grasped her behind
the knees and pressed up and back, so that she was forced to spread
widely for me.  Jackie never said a word, as this allowed her sex to
be accessible to my tongue and lips - and she felt my tongue gently
spear into her surprisingly snug cunt hole.  There was a familiar
taste to her - not so unlike my own, which I had sampled rarely from
my own fingers in the past - plus a sharp taste of what could only be
the seed of her 'date' earlier in the evening.

It did not bother me that I was tasting another man - in fact, it
almost caused me to snicker with ill-humour.  This cunt before me,
this sperm-filled vagina had no hold over this sexually-repressed
middle-aged woman - only one person could please me, held my passion
in his grasp - my son Gill.

My daughter groaned almost like a man when I did that, her pleasure
obvious - so I did it again, and again.  So that I was fucking her
tiny cunt with my long thick tongue.  I fucked her like I used to want
my husband to fuck me - long even strokes.  But I would add a little
twist of the tip of my tongue deep inside my daughters body which
caused a thick shiver throughout her person and especially within her
sex each time I did it.

Her small breasts were moving rapidly up and down as she gasped for
breath, her hips pumping unsuccessfully with her legs locked in my
hands - her eyes, though, were staring at her mother with pure selfish
lust.  My daughter was heading toward an orgasm the likes of which I
was jealous of - having never attained one with a tongue between my
legs before.  Yet, I was not doing this for my pleasure or my
education either.  I was doing this to keep my daughter Jackie off
guard so as to give Gill and I a chance at pleasure, at happiness.  I
was doing this until I could get something on my daughter, something
that would force her to stay away from my family for ever more.

When I yanked my tongue from within her body and brought my lips up to
that ignored clitoris and bit down on it - Jackie's hands clawed at my
head as she squealed out in orgasm.

 -*-

I sat on my daughters bed and read the more interesting entries in her
diary since the last I glanced in it.

    He is such a fucking fat pig but I am so glad at how desperate he
    was to get just a blow job.  Mom must never spread her legs for
    him - probably afraid he is going to crush her with that big fat
    belly.  Yet, it was not so bad, barely two minutes of work then a
    teaspoon of come and finally the promise to get the car that I
    have been asking him for.  He is such a fool.  Well, not so much a
    fool - he had told me that I would need to continue to suck him
    off if I wanted to keep the car.

Another entry.

    I can not believe mother had never been with a women before - she
    eats cunt like she has been doing it for years.  I can not fucking
    believe how good it was - she blew my mind!  It is obvious that
    she is desperate for sex - how she has those pathetic eyes when I
    catch her looking at me.  I may have to give her something in
    return else she may get frustrated.  I have fools for parents.

Well, I may be a fool but my daughter was one as well.  As I was
playing her.

I skipped the earlier entries, not wanting to see myself described as
'bitch' or 'old cunt' over and over.  And the affirmation that she had
blown her father to get a car did not surprise me - it did surprise me
that Darren had taken the initiative to continue the sexual congress
between them.  It told me that the passion in our marriage bed was
forever dead - though it had been in a coma for over a decade - and if
he ever tried to bring it back to life, I could never forget the words
from my daughter's diary.

The phone began to ring and surprised me. "Hello?"  I had just turned
the page and was about to continue to read.

"Hi honey, its Darren."

I knew his voice no matter how bad a line it was, having been married
for twenty years.  "Hi darling.  Anything wrong?"  I don't know, but I
sensed something was up.

"No nothing honey.  I just wanted to tell you that I was going to take
Jackie out to supper and a movie tonight."

I could not help but be a little shell-shocked.  When was the last
time Darren had taken me to a dinner and then a movie?  And I knew
this was a date between him and his daughter and there was no way to
sugar-coat it.  "OK.  What time do you think you guys will be home?"

"Its the late movie, so around midnight."

I wondered if they were going to a movie at all - why not just go to a
hotel?  Was Jackie willing to risk herself being 'crushed' just to
keep her father within her clutches?

Of course she is - I reminded myself.

"Don't wait up Carol.  Bye!"  The phone was dead before I had time to
really digest what had just happened.

I looked back to the diary in my hands and the final entry, from early
this morning.

    That fat bastard!  I can not believe the gall - suggesting that if
    I wanted that trip south for spring break I would meet him after
    school.  I am not the fool I let him think I am - he wants more
    than a blow job the pig.  Of course I agreed - if mom can put up
    with getting poked by the fat bastard, I can.

 -*-

I heard the door downstairs open and then close - right on time!

Taking a final look at myself in the mirror I took a deep breath and
wrapped my large bathrobe about myself, tied it and then called out,
"Gill?"

Immediately, "Yea mom, its me!"

"Wait for me in the living room honey, I want to show you something."
Silence - and I assumed he had done as I asked.  Gill was always a
good boy, even before... well, before.

He was sitting on the chair facing the foyer as I strode in.  "Whats
up mom?"  I walked right up to the middle of the large cavernous room,
about two meters before him.

"Your father and Jackie went to supper and then a movie so they will
not be back until late."  Why should he be burdened with the full
knowledge about his tramp sister and his lecherous father.

Gill's eyes seemed to sparkle when he realized we were alone and would
be for several more hours.

"I went out today and bought something for you."  Well, it was for us
- but again, I did not need to be so obvious.  I had also spent hours
in the bathroom and before my mirror - in a near-constant state of
arousal after my short telephone conversation with Darren.

After I realized what my husband and daughter would be doing this
evening and successfully calmed my growing anger, I realized that my
son and I would be alone until midnight.  My mood turned around after
that.

Gill's eyes were wide now, realizing that our time this evening was
not to be platonic.  Was I radiating a lust-filled desire that
screamed 'fuck me', 'use me', 'tell me how to please you'?  Well, it
would not surprise me if I was.

With that last playful thought I untied the simple knot of the
bathrobe and let it slip from my shoulders.

I stood in the middle of my living room, in the light of the late
afternoon, wearing a shoulder to toe body stocking.  Not just any
stocking either, a white transparent stocking that had small flowered
lace throughout.  That is not all, the crotch of the one-piece garment
was skillfully cut out so that a two centimetre wide strip exposed my
whole vagina down and back between my legs and up almost to my tail
bone.  There was a strategically placed overlapping flap, one for each
breast, that was currently closed, that could be pulled apart to allow
each of my large heavy breasts to pour out.  One last thing - there
was a noticeable lack of hair between my legs, the open slit showed
only pale smooth skin - having spent nearly a full hour preparing that
part of me.  Jackie had asked me to do it for her - but it was really
for the anxious young man seated in front of me.

I had seen the garment the last time I went shopping for lingerie, a
few days before, and had considered it to risque for a woman of my
quality, if not age and body size.  But after only yesterday, I now
thought it nothing but deliciously naughty.

Like a virginal teenage girl I stood barely covered, less than covered
- exposed and on display for the man I now considered the only one for
me.  Yes, I had thought about what if I was too old for him - that he
found my body old, overweight, anything negative that would turn him
off?  I had also known that there was only one way to find out.  I
knew I did not look like a teenager any more - not even like a woman
in her twenties.  I was more than double my son's age, and looked it.
My body had stretch marks from having two kids and from the kilograms
of weight gained since I got married.  The curves were more
voluptuous, my waist flaring out to my round ass and large bust.  I
was no longer the skinny large-breasted woman I was twenty years ago -
but then I did not want to be that woman.  That woman willingly
accepted the control of her parents and then her husband - telling her
how to dress, act and just exist.  That woman would not be wearing a
sexy body stocking let alone standing in it before only son.  The
woman I am now was prepared to commit any sin for the man before me -
no matter how outrageous it was - and I anxiously awaited the first,
of I hope, many such requests.  I wanted him to be the man in our
relationship - not the kind my husband was, not the morally dominant
repressed husband, or the religious guilt-ridden rules from my
parents.  No I wanted my son to be a strong and passionate man, to
accept me for whom I am, to use all that I had to give and to
frequently come back for more.

I had known this young man all my life but I was just realizing that
we were starting again, our relationship was at a new and exciting
infant-like stage.

Those first words stilled all my fears, "Nice mom!"  He said it with
such difficulty that I could see how erotic I looked in his unblinking
lust-filled eyes.  "You said its for me?"

I nodded, "Yes.  Everything you see is yours honey."  I could not help
but thrust out my barely-covered breasts proudly.

He swallowed thickly and I think he may actually be drooling.  Of
course, Gill realized what I meant and his eyes ravished me openly.

I felt like the luckiest girl alive!

"Would you turn slowly mom?"

"Of course honey."

I kept my hands to my sides as I slowly turned upon my nylon covered
feet.  When my back was facing him he mumbled, "God your so sexy mom!"

When I again faced him I smiled without reservation, my happiness
written upon my face.  "There is one more small surprise Gill?"

"'More'?" He looked almost shocked that there could be more.

I strode toward my son and knelt between his knees and then pointed
down to the two almost hidden flaps over my breasts.  His eyes were
wide and his hands trembled as they approached my chest.  They froze
just before touching the nylon upon my bosom and to reassure him, I
leaned forward and kissed the back of one hand.  That seemed to be
enough for my son to grasp each flap and pull to the side, then with
one violently trembling hand reach into my garment and draw out my
heavy full soft breast so that it hung outside my body stocking.  He
did not hesitate to move to the other, moving more expertly and
confidently until both my large breasts hung openly upon my chest.

"God mom, this is so cool!"  I could not have asked for a better
compliment!

My hands came up and lifted my breasts up and pressed them together -
it created a pale fleshy valley that no man could deny, at least
according to Darren when we first married.  Gill's eyes certainly
locked upon the sight - his hands, though, fumbled with his belt and
then jeans.  His hands trembled so much that it took nearly a minute
until that familiar cock popped out from his denim right before my
eyes.

It was my turn to drool - my mouth filling with saliva as if I was
starving, my eyes locked upon the only meal that could satisfy.  I
leaned forward and slipped that thrusting pole between my large fleshy
globes.  As if by instinct, Gill's ass muscles clenched and released,
causing his cock to pump up and down ever so slightly - but enough to
give the sensation that his dick needed.

My eyes looking directly down, staring as the one-eyed snake thrust
back and forth between my big breasts.  "God this is so good mom!"  He
was gasping already with desire.  His large hands fumbled at my head,
messing my perfect hair very quickly, and held it at its awkward angle
so that my chin was nearly to my chest.  I thought this strange, until
I stuck out my tongue and I felt the warm smooth head of my son's cock
hit against it as he thrust.

"Oh god!"

Gill bent forward at the waist and his chest pressed the back of my
skull so that my mouth held his thick smooth crown.  It pulsated
almost magically and I heard my son gasp above me.
"Oh... oh... mom... oh...!"

Then I felt the head of his penis increase in size and I thought 'how
delicious, I am about to swallow my son's ejaculate'.  And then it
happened and salty thick gobs of sperm shot upward to the back of my
throat.

Again and again, his sperm filling my mouth so that my cheeks bulged
and I had to swallow loudly.  I did miss some, feeling it trickle out
the corners and bottom of my mouth so that it slid down to the flesh
of my pale breasts.  The taste was unique to my few experiences to
date - much better than any other guy that I had fellatio, thick and
almost like sugar... like honey.

Then it was over - and Gill sat back, removed his hands from my head.
"That was amazing mom!"

I looked up at him and smiled widely - it was amazing.  I had just
swallowed my son's come directly from his cock.  Releasing my breasts,
so that they fell back upon my chest, I moved my eyes back to the
beautiful teenage cock and then down to the tops of my breasts - both
soiled with saliva and sperm.

Feeling my son's eyes upon me, I used my index fingers to scoop up the
sperm upon my own bosom and licking my digit clean frequently.  He did
not miss a second.  Then I leaned forward again and began to lick like
a kitten at the drops of sperm upon my son's tired penis - working
slowly and carefully and was amazed when it jerked in response,
beginning to harden yet again.  I had forgotten how virile teenage
boys can be.  And do not think these actions were simply to entice my
horny teenage son - I fulfilled a desire by tasting him, by taking his
seed into my mouth.  It was further proof to the new woman within me,
that I had changed.

Gill was smiling widely as his hand reached out, I took notice that it
was no longer trembling, and grasped my thick hard nipple between
thumb and forefinger, rolling it delightfully.  I gave him a pleased
smile, "I like that honey!"  That only seemed to empower him further,
to my delight, and Gill reached down past my navel and slipped two
fingers onto the smooth hot wet skin of my loins, expertly navigating
my full-body nylon and its tactically placed opening.

"Fuck this is amazing!"

I gasped out with pleasure as those same two fingers slipped easily
into my wet anxious vagina and my head fell forward to rest against my
son's chest.

Those two fingers began to move in and out of my cunt, ever so slowly,
and a fog filled my consciousness as the pleasure mounted.  I was so
fucking wet, so hot and I had yet to feel the ultimate taboo between a
mother and her son.  My lips moved without a thought, begging in a
whisper, "Fuck me Gill... fuck mommy... oh god, fuck me honey...I need
it so bad...!"

My hips began to shove back and forth, helping him fuck me with his
fingers.  My husband Darren used to like to finger me, but never had I
responded so aggressively as I did now.  There was little doubt that
if this continued, I would climax with just two fingers.

Then I heard my son ask, almost speaking in a whisper directly into my
ear, "Did you do it last night mom?  Like I asked?"

"What...?"  I had to blink several times to bring myself out of the
pleasure-filled nirvana, a little annoyed at the timing of the
question.

"Did you masturbate thinking about me last night mom?"

I lifted my face from his chest and smiled widely at the memory of
that pleasure I had, indeed, enjoyed as requested.  "Yes honey, I
did."  Of course Gill can never know what happened afterwards - how I
had crawled to his older sister, my daughter, and ate my first pussy
to an orgasm.

His eyes were wide and wild, pleasure-filled amazement within.  He
asked carefully, "Its true that you will do anything I ask right mom?"

I wondered at the source of the question - was he comparing me to
himself, how he is forced to act with his evil sister.  I gave him a
reassuring smile and answered truthfully, "It is, yes honey."  I had
already resolved to myself that Gill could ask anything of me.

His smile widened proudly, triumphantly.  Then his cheeks started to
bloom, turning a shade of red and I could see in his eyes that he
wanted to ask me something else, perhaps tell me something that
embarrassed him.  Then he mumbled, "I love your ass mom."

He had said something like that the night before - and I had taken it
as a middle-age woman could take a compliment about any one part of
her body.  Which means, I loved it - but had not thought it much more
than the desires voiced from my teenage horny young son.  But there
was something else in his gaze, something more that I realized I had
missed.

Every many that I had become intimate with, and it was a very short
list I assure you, had been crazed about my large breasts and wide
nipples.  I started to develop before other girls my age, eleven years
old and I learnt early on how guys of all ages were drawn to large
round breasts as if they were my comic-book super power.  Even
teachers would try to look down my shirt when I was in middle school,
standing over me.  It was my breasts that every guy seemed to be
infatuated with, to lust over.  And it was the one point on my body
that I focused on when I wore clothing, or dressed intentionally
seductively.  My husband Darren had stated once that he had married me
because of my large breasts.

Looking into Gill's eyes, I realized that it was not my breasts that
stole this young man's fascination, but my ass.  It surprised me more
than a little - no man in my life, to my experience, had thought this
way.  Oh sure it was not so unattractive, a little on the large side,
but still tear-drop shaped and well rounded while still being soft to
the touch.  I've never spent much of my time considering my ass as a
means to and end.  Within my child's eyes I started to realize the
error of my ways.

I slowly moved backward from between my son's legs and then crawled up
onto the expensive large couch.  I spread my knees a meter apart and
held onto the back of the couch before looking over my shoulder.

My son Gill was staring at the presentation before him, reaffirming my
surprised reasoning.  The knowledge that it was my ass and not my
breasts that my son desired overtook my senses and I was more than
stunned and just a little overjoyed.  In my fantasies I had faceless
lovers ignore my breasts, focus on other parts of my body - and
sometimes that meant my backside.  It was one of my strongest erotic
zones - and one of the most ignored by my husband through all the
years of our marriage.  When I masturbated, I sometimes touched myself
back there and shivered in delight as well as guilt.

Yet here was my son professing a desire for my backside and I felt
like a young girl, anxious for her first kiss.

Gill came off the couch and removed his clothing while standing behind
my kneeling form.  I was looking over my shoulder at his large
beautiful body - my lust for him growing exponentially by the second.

This is how I wanted things to be between Gill and I - for him to
gently dominant our intimate moments, for me to react so positively
that I was barely in control of my own body.  I wanted my son to grow
up a big strong man, to tell his woman how and where to fuck, to give
pleasure while accepting it under his terms.  To this end, I was
feeling proud and successful - rather motherly, as humorous as that
sounded in my current situation.

Gill knelt behind me and his hand reached out to slip between the gap
of the stocking to touch the hairless flesh about my anus.

The touch caused a violent shiver to run up my spin and a guttural
groan to escape my mouth.  No one had ever touched me there, no one
had ever looked at me so intimately in this position.

I was not prepared when those fingers slipped lower on my slippery
cunt-wet skin to sink into my hot wet vaginal hole.  I screamed out in
surprise - my body nearly reaching that peak of pleasure yet still
left me gasping as if I had.

Gill began to move those fingers in and out of my body, again fucking
me until that familiar cloud began to fog my senses and my body began
to rock back and forth in pace.

My eyes had clamped shut when Gill had sunk his fingers into my cunt
that I never realized it before I felt it - a thick warm wet tongue
sliding over my anus!

It felt so fantastic - nothing like my own finger ever felt, not
nearly as good as I had imagined in my darkest fantasies.  I was
gasping in surprise, in pleasure - my voice harsh as I started to
chant my son's name again and again.

The tongue pressed harder into the donut-muscle of my rectum, even as
my body and his fingers continued to fuck me mercilessly.  It was a
feeling that this middle-aged woman had never felt before and I loved
it.  The tongue shoved harder into my body and I could feel that part
of me relax just enough to allow it entrance.  The seconds that
followed were nothing but mind-blowing as I was tongue-fucked in the
ass in time to the dual fingers shoving in and out of my cunt - all
the while I rocked back and forth, my mouth spouting off obscenities
of pleasure.

It could not have been more than a minute of this attention, though it
could have been less or more as I was in no state to measure it by,
when my orgasm shot through me.  I imploded upon the objects in my
rectum and vagina and my world would never be the same.  Any man that
could do this to me, so quickly, deserved my submission.  I could be
more than sexually submissive to this man - I could be his slave for
all time.

I thought these thoughts of lust and even love as I began to return
from that unknown place where orgasmic lovers go - a place between
life and death, between pleasure and pain.  My mind was amazed and my
heart was filled with joy.

Even as I returned to the land of the living, to my living room, I
felt the fingers and then the tongue remove itself from my body and I
heard myself whimper at the loss.  Distantly I heard my son's voice,
voicing obscenities toward me, his words translated to those of love
so that my soul soared.

Then a long thick pole shoved without pause directly into my vagina
and I gasped at the realization of what it was.  It was so hard, so
thick, so long, that it filled me like nothing else I had experienced.
It filled me to a perfection that I cursed god for allowing it to
belong to my son, to my not finding it until my current age.  It was a
cock that any woman alive would kneel in worship too - beg for it to
enter her body if only once before death overtook her.

Yet I did not need to beg, my son gasped my soft hips and began to
slam forward, fucking me with such animal veracity that I was
thrashing violently upon the couch.  I may be bruised the next day
but, by god, it was more than worth it.  I shoved back as aggressively
as I could - loving this bawdy violent fuck.

When was the last time Darren had shown any passion when we made love?
When was the last time he grabbed my body and fucked me like he was
out of control?  Never.

Gill was out of control, his body slamming into mine hard and loud,
our damp flesh smacking loudly and our hard-working sex organs echoing
loudly with embarrassing sounds.  I had done this to him, got him to
become so hot, so full of passion for me that he had little control of
what came next.

That was an empowering thought and something I knew even a submissive
woman could use to both her lover and her own delight.

A thick digit, a thumb was my guess, pressed into my saliva coated
relaxed anus stretching me delightfully.  Distantly I wondered if he
could feel himself moving in and out of my body - realizing that he
probably could.  Regardless, I was again double penetrated and loved
it.

Just when I thought to renew my trembling tired sweaty body by shoving
backward even harsher, Gill suddenly slowed in his coupling of his
parent.  The long thick beautiful cock sawed slowly in and out of me
so that I thought I would scream out in frustration as well as lust.
His free hand left my hip and reached around to grasp my large
pendulous breasts - reminding me that I had more than one interest
from this young man - groping and fondling roughly.

The minutes moved past and I knew I was trembling with desire, my body
dripping with sweat and near exhaustion.

Both of Gill's hands grasped my shoulder and held on as the pumping of
his cock sped up almost to the speed, but not the vigour, of our
initial coupling.  I knelt before my son, amazed at the endurance that
he showed, thanking god who had brought this delight into my world.

My body was a hair away from an orgasm - having been this way for some
while - awaiting my son's own to release within me.  It was like a
physical need - to feel him pump his juices deep into my womb, to feel
as if I had acted correctly in seducing my son, as if I was a woman
worthy of such a man in her life.

Just as I thought I would collapse in exhaustion, my body near that
point, when I felt Gill tense up behind me, his body freezing like
granite.  Then I felt it - the seconds increase in the volume of that
meat inside my body before it blasted.  Again and again it shot hot
deep fluid within my body - and I felt the heat fill my consciousness
like a black cloud.  My own body exploded in delight and I felt
darkness envelop me at my finest hour.

Lips and hands awoke me - tender touches and loving attention opened
my eyes to look into my only son's.  He asked me without saying a
word, was I OK?  Did I enjoy what we had just done?  The smile crept
to my lips and kept growing, my pleasure filling me nearly as
perfectly as Gill's cock had earlier.

Gill smiled happily in reply.

 -*-

The diary read like some trashy novel - how father had asked his
daughter to a cheap motel, how daughter was disgusted but thought to
use this to her advantage.  It went on in some detail about positions,
about the angles and the time involved.  It revealed how the father
had used a digital camera and instructed his daughter to pose for
dozens, maybe hundreds of photos, many very graphic.  It revealed how
the daughter had successfully bartered her body for the pinnacle place
in her pathetic fathers life while the parent attempted to regain his
dominance of the minx he had succumbed too.

When I closed the diary I sat for a very long time considering just
how far my little family had come.  I was now my son's lover - my
husband his daughter's.  My daughter's game of dominating her family
to met her own ends may have exceeded itself - as the diary attested,
she had acted past the boundaries she had originally placed.  Perhaps
it was her greed or her lust for power that caused her to fall so far?
Regardless, she is nothing to me now.

I tore the empty back page out of the diary, and found a pen to
scribble a note.

Then I went downstairs to ready supper for my family.

 -*-

Gill looked worried and not a little scared as I slipped into the car
and started it up.  He sat beside me, questioning me with his eyes as
I backed it out of our family garage.  Even as my attention was
focused on driving, I felt his eyes leave me and look at the small
metallic digital camera on the console between us - a small
red-leather book beneath it.

"Mom...?"

I had not told him why he had to gather a single bag with clothing and
toiletries for a few nights away from home - a look into my eyes
revealed that this was not for more of our sexy games.  My son
reverted back to the young man who every mother wishes she had,
polite, caring and obedient.  More proof that we were nothing less
than perfection together.

"Everything is going to be fine honey."

He watched our house disappear from sight as I drove with a
determination rarely seen with me.

"We can come back in a day or two."

"Dad?"  I had left him completely unaware as I stood up from the
table, walked directly to his den, opened his briefcase, turned the
camera on and confirmed what I had read in the diary and then strode
to the garage and my son.  Jackie had watched me suspiciously with her
eyes, while Darren just ate supper with a distant bored look.

Little did either know what awaited them - how they had given me the
power to control the rest of my life.  With that single page torn from
the back of Jackie's diary - a page she will instantly realize where
it came from I knew without a doubt - I had told them I knew, I had
proof in the form of my daughters diary and my husband's digital
pictures.  I had called them foolish, evil and told them they had
twenty four hours to leave the house, to leave my life.  I told Darren
not to contest my request for divorce - at his own peril.

As I drove the car I wondered if I should book Gill and I into the
same cheap motel that Darren had used the day before with his
daughter?  No, that was tempting the fates a little too much - and
look what they had handed my husband and daughter?

Gill had a year and a half left in high school and then, I prayed, he
went to University.  I felt that I had that time to be my son's
full-time lover.  To keep his mind on his studies by pleasuring him
away from the distractions of girls his own age.  After that - only
time will tell.

If I was sure of anything at that moment - and I felt more sure of my
life and my choices for the first time in my life - I knew our time
together was going to be very memorable!

--
