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.
Christie hid a sigh of irritation when Steve came to her bedroom. It was earlier in the evening than he usually wanted sex, and far too early for fun and games in the basement. He surprised her by slapping down a thick, cream-colored envelope on the nightstand by her side where she had been reading in bed. Glancing at his bland non-expression, which told her nothing, she picked up the envelope and opened it with misgivings. Tickets. It held tickets.
The only intersection between Steve's career and the lives of the rich and famous were those fleeting moments caught in the lens of his camera. He followed them around, intruded in their lives, and occasionally snapped a photo that would earn a few dollars. His main business, his portrait studio, was lucrative, and sometimes his clients left him valuable "tips." This time it was a $5,000 pair of tickets to a charity gala. Yes, Steve would like something like that.
"He couldn't attend for some reason," Steve said. "Find something to wear that goes with diamonds and emeralds."
"Emeralds?"
"Necklace, earrings, and matching bracelet."
"Where are you going to get something like that?"
"Borrowed."
"Borrowed? From who?"
"Whom," was all he said on the subject. "I'll be in a tux. Find something suitable." Appearances. With Steve it was all about the appearances.
He smiled. "I'm sure you'll look magnificent on my arm."
She looked at the tickets again. "This is in three days!"
"You'd probably better start tomorrow."
"I have appointments. Clients."
"You're resourceful. I'm sure you'll manage."
Resourceful. That was almost a compliment on something besides her looks. Pissed now, she said, "You can't bring a camera or business cards."
He leaned forward a little. "I am aware of that." He was using his 'this is not negotiable' tone, so Christie dialed back the irritation. At least what she showed.
"Will there be movie stars there?" she asked.
"Probably."
"Well then, I'd better go shopping. It'll be expensive."
"But worth it," he said.
#####
Three days later, dressed in a gown worth several days' worth of billable hours that she would probably wear once, Christie descended the stairs in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. She had no idea what perfume movie stars wore, so she relied on her mother's favorite.
Danny stood at the foot of the stairs, watching her with his mouth open a little. Her black gown fit like a second skin. Gems dangled from her ears, and her hair was artfully arranged at the back of her head, little curls cascading down. It looked good. Amazing.
"You should be one of the movie stars," he said.
She held up a necklace. "I can't seem to get this on." She handed it to him. "Would you?"
Danny whistled. "Is this real?"
"I think so. I have no idea where he got it." She turned her back to him. "I'm probably wearing half a million dollars of rock tonight. Maybe more."
"Don't you wonder...?"
She looked toward the basement stairs, down the hall. "I wonder," she said quietly.
Danny fumbled a bit with the catch of the necklace, then reached around her shoulders to encircle her slender throat. The dress was sleeveless and low-cut in front and back. "No bruises," he said.
"No," she agreed.
"This catch is tight, but I guess you need that with a half-million-dollar necklace." He finally got it clasped, but didn't pull away, instead lowering his hands to wrap them around her waist and pull her body closer to his. He placed a kiss on her jaw from behind and whispered, "You are so beautiful."
For the briefest moment, Christie enjoyed a quiver of arousal at the juncture of her thighs, and then pulled away from him roughly. "Your father is right down those stairs," she said in a voice only he could hear.
"We would see the light change when he opens his door," he said, his eyes on the basement stairs.
She glanced in that direction for a second. "The man is sociopath," she hissed. "Never forget that. And never,
ever
, take a risk like that again."
He nodded. At that moment the light did change, and a few seconds later they heard Steve's steps on the stairs. He appeared bearing a white mink coat that she'd never seen before.
#####
Tension again. Steve always saw the undercurrents swirling around him, but he rarely understood them. Something was going on between the kid and his mother. He had no idea what it was and it disturbed him on a fundamental level. He felt a flesh-crawling uneasiness that could easily drive him to violence.
But Christie stood tall and proud, and elegantly beautiful. It was moments like this that made him glad he had never given into his urges to truly break her. People would see them together, see the gold band on her finger, and know he was more than the ordinary man he seemed. He resented the easy way she moved through the world, but found it very useful.
"Mink?" she asked.
"Rented." He held it up for her. "Very nice," he said as he placed it around her shoulders. "You'll do."
#####
In March, Danny considered his plan to seduce his mother as stalled. The hug from behind had started three weeks ago, and he'd come up with nothing new since then. What Danny most hoped to achieve next was a cuddle on the sofa. Unfortunately, he had grown too big for cuddling about six years before. If only he could find a way to get her to want to cuddle up to him.
Towards this end, he proposed a movie night one Friday when Steve was out taking pictures. Christie offered to make the popcorn. Danny chose the movie, set it up, and settled on the sofa in the den. It was the only seat in the room, and he occupied the very center. He leaned back, arms stretched out to either side across the sofa's back, and waited for his mother to come in. It was a battle, but he kept the smug grin off his face.
Christie came in with the popcorn and drinks. "Scoot over," she demanded. He did, as he expected to, but not all the way to the far end. Christie had enough room not to feel crowded, but they were close. She gave him the fish-eye but didn't demand that he move more.
For Christie, it was a choice to make. She'd grown to love his lingering hugs and the near-miss kisses. The first time he had sneaked up behind her and put his arms around her, she was worried that Steve might see but not upset that he had done it. She wanted to lean back into him, she did every time it happened, but so far she had been able to stop herself. Enjoying the behavior didn't make it right.
Now she thought she knew exactly what he was doing. He hoped she would curl up into him. Whether she would or not, she had to decide.
"What did you choose?" she asked.
"Your favorite. 'Ghandi'."
"'Ghandi'?" she said in disbelief. "That's not my favorite movie. And it's like three hours."
"Then why do you own it?"
"It's inspiring, but I don't want to watch that tonight."
"Good thing I was kidding. 'Hunger Games' it is.
"That's better."
They watched the entire movie without moving from their spots on the sofa, except to shift around now and then. They talked all through it since they had seen it before, and both enjoyed themselves. As soon 'The Hunger Games' finished, Danny proposed 'Catching Fire'.
"It was a hard day in court," Christie began.
"It's more fun with you here," Danny said, pleading.
She also knew exactly what he was doing this time -- trying to wear her down until she was too tired to resist -- but she agreed anyway.
Over the second movie, they spoke less often. After the first hour, Christie began to yawn. Danny watched her more than the movie, waiting. Finally, after another twenty minutes, her eyes closed and her head lowered. He waited a little longer and drew her to him. The movement roused her a little, but she came willingly, placing her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. Danny smiled. Mission accomplished. He kissed her hair, and she sighed.
All was fine until the movie ended. Danny switched off the silent television with the remote but remained where he was, content to simply hold her. That was good, but Christie, falling from a doze into deeper sleep, no longer kept her hand on his chest. First it slipped to his ribs. Then his abdomen. Finally, it settled right on top of what was growing into a massive boner. He shifted; her hand shifted with him. He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the strands slide through his fingers like silk. He kissed her again in the same place as before. Then, for just a moment, he gave in to temptation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers and pressed down. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, even if he could do no more, even if he was so hard it hurt. Reluctantly, he drew his hand away. Nothing could induce him to take further advantage of the situation. His mother would feel so betrayed if she woke and found them that way. It would damage their relationship for a long time. Somehow he knew she had to touch him in this way knowingly and willingly.
His cock ached. He had to do something, so he said, "Mom." She woke with a start, her hand rubbing against him roughly, forcing him to bite back a groan. Christie blinked several times, looked around, and saw his erection under her hand. Her cheeks flamed. She looked up to see him biting his lip, and pulled herself away.
"I think you'd better take that up to your room," she said quietly.
"Yes, Mom." He rose. "Night, Mom," he said as he sped from the room.
Later, he would wonder why he hadn't simply settled her down on the sofa and covered her with the afghan. Perhaps some part of him wanted her to see what she did to him. If she hadn't figured it out already, she certainly knew now.
#####
By the time Steve's March trip came around, Danny had lost any embarrassment he felt over movie night. In fact the strategy had worked the next Friday night. Christie curled up against him but stayed awake the entire time. He didn't manage to get in any caresses, but it still satisfied him.
