DISCLAIMER:
This is included in the novel/novella category because of length. It is a mother/son incest story. There are also instances of abuse (two of them, which are not the focus of the story). As far as heat level, this story is quite tame, and if you are look for page after page of screaming sex, you might want to look elsewhere. If you want a STORY, please read on.
That week, the seed of desire that had been planted the night Danny witnessed his father beating his mother found fertile ground. Each time Danny looked at Christie, he wanted her more. It would hit him at odd moments. Watching her long hands deftly move between pots at the stove, he would have a sudden image of them wrapped around his cock. Occasionally he would have to leave for his room, and when this happened he often masturbated to that same fantasy, or stronger ones -- her lips stretched and her mouth full of cock was a favorite. Her shapely body lying naked below him, her expression lost in ecstasy. Going down on her.
And it would hit him at predictable times. When he hugged her he had the strongest longing to bury his face into her shoulder, inhale her light perfume, and press kisses against her neck. If he held her a little closer than before, or a little longer, Christie had given no sign of noticing that Danny could see.
He never saw the thoughtful looks she gave to his back as he walked away.
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Christie knocked on Danny's door early on Monday of the first week of January. He groaned and rolled to face away from the door. "Go away," he said when she knocked again.
"Want to earn a little extra money, Danny?" she called through the door.
Money? Money always tempted, but not quite as strongly at 6:45 a.m. on a school holiday as it did at other times. "How much money?" he asked.
"Fifty dollars. A hundred if you work all day. We've got lots of filing and I need someone to go through the mail and pay the bills while Monica is out." Monica, her secretary, had been gone for a week, would be gone for another, and the work was piling up.
Danny rolled out of bed, pulled on a robe and came to the door to open it a crack. "She always bitches about me leaving her stapler in the wrong place."
"You're never there when she does."
"Point. I'll be down in ten minutes."
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He drove with her to the office, having elected to work all day. It was a small, two-room affair within walking distance of the courthouse. Christie tried to get the accounting system on her secretary's computer, but it wouldn't boot up. She went into her own office, and logged into the computer at her desk. "Use this one for today. You remember how to use the software?"
"Yeah, it's simple. I don't need to put the codes on anything?"
"Do it if you can figure them out." She gestured toward a big stack of files in the corner of her secretary's office. "Um, that's the filing." Then she pointed to a basket on the desk. "Mail. Do the mail first and pay any bills due in the next week."
"There has to be over a single week's worth of mail there. What does Monica actually do?"
"You know she only works part-time, but I think Monica is working hard to earn her place on the unemployment line."
"I hope so," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Answer the phones?" she asked hopefully.
"Sure. I'll just say you're in court and take messages."
"Thank you, sweetie. It's better if they talk to a human being, even if I'm not here. You're really helping me out," she said and went up on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. For a blissful second he was enveloped by the scent of her, something light and floral, and the warmth of her body. Where once it would have warmed him, this time his cock twitched. Luckily, she was out the door moments later.
Danny lugged the basket of mail to Christie's desk, taking advantage of her big comfortable chair after first adjusting it to his greater height. For an hour and a half he dutifully opened mail and paid bills, working slowly and concentrating hard to make no mistakes. It had been a few months since he had done this, and he felt rusty. A phone call interrupted him at ten o'clock, and after answering it he decided he had earned a break. He made a pot of coffee and sat down back at his mother's computer to see if she had any games. Not finding any, he went online and browsed through websites. After looking at several, he wanted to get back to one of first sites he'd found but couldn't find it, so he pulled up the browsing history. Danny didn't know it at the time, but what he saw there would change the course of his life.
Christie had been looking at porn.
Several times a week.
He wet his lips and tried to imagine his sophisticated, elegant mother sitting in her office and watching people get off for the camera on her lunch hour. He looked at the date and time stamps -- Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays. All days when Monica didn't work, usually at lunch except for on Saturday. Did she lower her blinds and lock the door? She must, he thought. Did she finger herself in her office? The thought had him hard. His hand hovered over the mouse. He wanted to see what she was looking at, but it was so personal. It felt like a betrayal.
Danny looked behind him at the window, open to a small, paved pedestrian mall. With knees that were just a bit weak, he rose and lowered the blinds. If his mother came he would say the glare was bothering him. It was sort of true.
The most recent site advertised itself as Romantic Interludes. Danny sneaked looks at porn before, and Romantic Interludes was very tame compared to some of the things Danny had seen. It was romantic. Satin sheets and candlelight. If he had never seen his stepfather beat her, if he didn't know that he had blackmailed her into sadistic sex, he would have wondered what the turn-on was. But Danny had seen, and he knew this was something that Christie had never had. The thought was sad enough to wilt his hard-on.
This window into Christie's soul felt too personal. He didn't know if he could bear to learn something so painful, but he looked on. He found a couple other similar sites. Many of the couples she had watched were mixed: a white woman with an African-American or Hispanic man.
A site that featured college-age boys jacking off for the camera had him intrigued. Another site she visited often featured slightly older men doing the same thing. The final category were mixed-race couples, mostly white women with men of color.
His erection grew painfully hard, but he didn't dare do anything about it. Someone, like his mother, could walk in at any time. She would be selecting jurors all morning, so he wasn't too concerned, but it might pay to be cautious.
There were two videos that she watched often enough -- four times in the last month for one and six times for the other -- to link to directly rather than going through the site's main page. The first showed a buff Hispanic man of about twenty with a woman around twice his age. The woman had a passing resemblance to Christie, pretty and dark-haired. The second video, the one she watched more than any other, showed a fair, blond woman with a tall young man with dark skin. He didn't really resemble Danny aside from height and ethnicity, but something about the pairing of these two -- one dark, one so fair -- struck home.
He quickly closed the browser, rose, and headed to the small bathroom off Christie's office. Safely behind a locked door, he fumbled with his zipper in his haste to pull out his cock.
Danny imagined Christie sitting at her desk, watching the couples fuck. Perhaps she pinches her nipples first, through the fabric of her suit. From there she unbuttons her blouse, slowly, button after button. Her bra is satin, black against her fair skin. She pushes it down, exposing her breasts to the cool air, nipples hard. He wondered for a second what they looked like, and decided they would be the size of small cherries and taste as sweet. He swallowed, wishing he was sucking and tasting those sweet sweet breasts right then. He spread pre-cum on his dick and stroked in a fast, steady rhythm.
