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! --