Photographs

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.

The next day was Friday. Steve left for Miami. It was also the start of spring break for Danny, and Christie had decided to take the week off to be with him. After searching the house for bugs when they got home from work and school, they celebrated by going to dinner at a burger place Steve hated and then to a popular movie he wouldn't have enjoyed. They laughed when Danny imitated Steve: "I do not see the appeal of blowing up valuable property." Steve hated action movies but loved 'Fight Club'. They laughed about that, but it was hollow. Steve loved raw violence too much.

"I think," Christie said as they sat in the breakfast nook and ate Rocky Road ice cream, "that I must be immature."

"Why?"

"Because I think an eighteen-year-old boy is my best friend."

He licked at his spoon. "My best friend used to be Artie Knutzen."

"He isn't any more, is he?"

"Nope. Caught him having sex with Meghan at that Halloween party last year."

Christie blinked and put down her spoon. "Oh, Danny. I'm so sorry. That's why you broke up with her. You refused to tell me."

"Yup, but that's not the worst part." He took a big spoonful. After swallowing he said, "She told me all along she didn't want to have sex with me because she was under eighteen and it was illegal."

"Can I be frank?"

He looked at her warily. "Um, sure?"

"I always thought she treated you like shit, but I didn't say anything because you seemed happy. I thought you broke up with her because you finally got wise."

"She did treat me like shit," he agreed. "We'd go to parties or dances, and she'd say she needed to talk girl-talk with her friends. So she'd go off and leave me wondering what to do with myself. I was so happy to be dating the most popular girl in school, I ignored it. Then I got wise the hard way." He scraped his bowl and licked the spoon. "And... there's more."

"Worse than sleeping with your best friend?"

"Uh huh. She had daddy issues. Is there more ice cream?"

"Help yourself. What Daddy issues?"

He rose and went to the freezer, bringing the carton back with him. "Her dad kind of ignored her. She really tried to find ways to get him to notice her, like dating one of the only black kids in school."

"Danny..." she said softly. She reached out and touched his hand.

He shrugged. "I go to a lily-white school. It's something I have to live with, Mom. I can get all furious and outraged, which I do now and then, or I can find ways to show how I'm better than they are. I'm the best basketball player the school has ever had. I have straight A's, and I'm going to be a doctor."

"You are without doubt the most even-tempered person I've ever met. If you weren't such a slob and didn't eat like a horse, you'd be the perfect kid." And then there's that issue of trying to seduce his mother, she thought. He was so calm and easy-going most of the time, she might have overlooked some hidden depths.

"You know," he said with a sly grin, "I'm feeling awful vulnerable right now. Can I sleep with you?"

She gave him a playful slap on the arm. "No."

#####

On Saturday morning, Christie woke to find herself wrapped in the warm presence of her son. Even with her eyes closed, she knew it had to be him. Steve, on those rare occasions when he fell asleep in her bed, usually lay sprawled on his back, taking up his entire side of the bed and part of hers. He was not a cuddler and wouldn't understand affection even if presented with three highlighted psychology textbooks and a puppy.

Danny's arms enclosed her a little tighter and he buried his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply and let it out with a sigh, warm breath on the back of her neck. Strong arms around her.

"You sneaked in again," Christie said.

"It's not like you locked me out."

"In case you didn't notice, there is no lock."

"Why is that? Don't all master bedrooms have locks?"

It should have been a bad memory, but for some reason, here in Danny's arms, it couldn't reach her. "The first time your father hit me I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. I was crouched on the floor, he was screaming and pounding on the door. It woke you, you were almost three at the time, and you started screaming, too. I wanted to go to you, but I was so afraid. Not one of my better moments."

He squeezed her and placed a kiss on her shoulder. "I seem to have survived. What happened?"

"He broke the door down. Then he got that spooky calm he has and explained to me that some things in our arrangement were not negotiable. The way he chose to have sex was one of them."

"Arrangement?"

The pain drew closer, threatening to pierce this bubble of contentment they lay in. "Not now, Danny. I feel good right now."

"Then explain about the doors."

"The next day I came home from school to find the bathroom door replaced, and all the interior knobs in the entire apartment replaced with ones without locks."

He kissed her again, this time in that sensitive spot at the base of her neck, and she shivered with pleasure. It felt good, she couldn't deny it any longer. It felt good when he touched her and it turned her on. Christie knew she should put the brakes on right then, but decided to let him for just a few more minutes. He burrowed his face in her hair and kissed her throat. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her, and she could feel him chuckle silently. His lips traveled up her jaw to the corner of her mouth, and Christie turned to meet him, her lips on his in a searing kiss. Her legs twined with his.

"Why do you want this? Isn't there some girl your age?"

"There is no girl I ever met, or ever will meet, who is as beautiful and sexy as you. I've wanted you for years."

"You certainly know how to talk to a woman, that's for sure." She pressed her lips against his again, just because he flattered and pleased her, and in spite of the fact that she suspect he was coaxing her to go further. "Flatterer," she said. Gradually, as they kissed deeper and longer, she shifted her body until she was facing him. Her mind and her conscience kept up a litany of

stop now, just a little longer, stop now, just a little longer,

until it was buried under the onslaught of sensation. His hands roaming her back over her camisole, and further down to caress her butt. The hardness of his erection against her stomach, and the satin smooth texture of his skin under her hands when she slipped them under his t-shirt. Soon her hand pushed down his boxers in back as she ran her hands over the firm muscles of his ass.

Danny slid his hand under her camisole, drawing it closer to her side, and then her breast. He was cupped it, kneading it gently. When he pinched her nipple, Christie gasped and lost what remained of her reason. There was no other excuse for what she did next.

She had to feel his cock. She pulled his boxers down and grasped it firmly. Danny groaned. Big and hard, and warm to the touch, it jerked in her hand when she stroked it from base to tip.

"I'll come if you keep that up. I'm so turned on, it won't take much."

"Hmmm." They were still kissing, and her happy sigh purred into his mouth. She opened her eyes and looked at his face. "Come for me, Danny. I want to see your face when you come." Watching a man come was the most erotic thing Christie could think of. She loved the expression on their faces, lost in some ecstasy world that only they could see. Their bodies taut and shuddering, right before cum spurted out. She loved the power it gave her to make it happen.

His eyes opened, too, but soon they closed to slits, and then completely as she stroked him nearer and nearer to orgasm. He would twitch and gasp, until she was stroking him hard and fast and his gasps turned into moans. Christie herself was so turned on she threw her leg over his and pushed her pelvis into him. Danny's hand on her breast moved to her pussy, but soon began to falter, his body shuddering, and then he was coming, his cum pulsing onto their stomachs. Christie continued to stroke until Danny protested that it was too much.

She sighed and closed her eyes, reliving the moment, etching it in her memory. Unfortunately, a thing that turned her on so effectively only happened when the sex was all over for the man.

When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her, smiling contentedly. Her own smile was a little coy as she scraped her hand over his stomach, brought it to her mouth, and licked cum from the space between her thumb and forefinger. Danny watched this with rapt fascination.

"You like the taste of cum?" His voice was rough.

"It's not the taste. It's the fact that I'm licking up your cum."

He laughed and pulled her closer. Christie snuggled into her son's chest, but panic flooded her.

What have I just done?

#####

Danny dozed for a few minutes and woke to the sound of the shower running, the bed empty beside him. He waited, comfortable and content, hoping to get a glimpse of his mother naked when she left the bathroom, but she emerged a few minutes later fully dressed. She had brought her clothing with her into the bathroom, and he could guess what that meant. He had fallen asleep with his boxers down around his thighs in the middle of a puddle of cum. He wanted a shower himself. First pulling up his boxers, he rose to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I'll help you change the sheets," he offered. "Dolores will be here soon and she shouldn't find cum on them." Christie and Danny did the everyday tidying up, but she had a maid who came in once a week to do the heavier scrubbing and cleaning.

"That would be nice," she said. "Good morning."

"Morning." He watched her with dread blossoming in his gut, then blurted out, "This is where you tell me what we did was wrong and we'll never do it again, and please leave you alone from now on. Right?"

Christie reached for a bottle of perfume from her vanity table. "This is where I tell you that I'm highly conflicted about what we did, and please leave me alone for a little while to think."

"So you're not saying never?" Hope returned and he sat up straighter.

"I'm saying what we did is illegal. I'm saying I'm living with a sociopath who watches my every move, who bugs my home, and who would probably kill you if he found out. You're my son, and although I'll freely admit I find you highly desirable, and I enjoy the attention, I feel like I'm taking advantage of your youth and teenage male horniness. Mostly, though," she walked over and sat down beside him, "I don't want to ruin the best thing in my whole life."

"It will make it even better." He raised his arm to put it around her.

"No, Danny." She shied away, rising from the bed, and in that instant revealed how truly conflicted she really was. "Please let me be. I feel awful and I need some time."

"I don't feel awful, or at least I didn't when I woke up. It felt like I had something special all to myself and I wanted to hold it close and never let go."

She just looked at him, her mouth tight and her expression pained. "If I say 'no more', what will that do to you? Would you even honor my wishes?"

He thought about it for a moment, about giving up the hope of sex with her, the touches, that feeling of specialness. He would feel like a fool for having tried, and a failure for not succeeding. Danny never liked to give up, he hated it more than failure, but he recognized that to keep trying to seduce her when she truly did not want it would ruin their relationship and that would be far worse. He would become his stepfather, pushing Christie out of obsession, taking what he wanted from her with no regard for her needs. But with the way she responded to him...

"I know you like it, Mom, but if you really couldn't go further, I would respect that."

Her shoulders relaxed, and he realized he had been her first consideration. Not her own desires or needs, but what her son wanted and how to keep him happy while doing what she felt was right. He stood and headed for his own shower, but paused at the door. "Some day, Mom, you are going to learn that what you really want matters, too."

#####

One by one, Christie slid closed the drapes in the large hobby room, covering each wall of glass that looked out onto the back lawn and the pool.

What am I doing? This is crazy.

Danny might come to her. That was all she could think of. It didn't matter that there was a wall, shrubbery, and immense trees on every side, and even the nosiest neighbor with glasses probably couldn't see anything. That little possibility made her shutter the room tight against prying eyes, because Danny might come to her, and who knew what could happen.

Even Christie wasn't certain what she wanted to happen, but she knew that this morning ignited a flame that no amount of logic and self-recrimination could douse. She paused what she was doing, the edge of a drape clutched in her hand as she forced herself to admit the truth. Stroking him off had been coming for months, and she had waited for it with anticipation. Every time he sat too close and let her cuddle up to him, she had made the choice to let him. The hugs, the extra kisses on the cheek, even the long looks he hadn't thought she'd noticed, all excited her both sexually and on some deeper level that was desperately needy. And now she was watching him in return, seeing the strong, beautiful, attractive young man he had become. No, Danny wasn't male model perfect, but his face had a warm openness, his features a pleasing combination of Irish and African. Looking at his athletic body gave her electric twinges that ran from her clit to her nipples. When he touched her that electric heat flooded her entire body, making her dangerously aroused.

And she liked it. Steve never made her feel these things, and she wanted and needed to feel something good with a man like she needed to breathe.

Christie finished closing the drapes and went to the entertainment center. Yoga, pilates, weight-lifting, aerobics, she had tapes for everything to work out her body evenly, but mostly she danced. As a girl, Christie took dance lessons from age three until her pregnancy at fifteen forced her give them up, but she had never stopped dancing. The radio, exercise videos, night clubs and swing clubs, she danced with them all. Surprisingly, Steve also liked to dance, and they had taken swing and Latin dancing lessons together. Early in their marriage, it gave her hope. She accepted him as a partner because to not dance would be to let a part of herself die. Danny could dance, as well, and showed a talent and enthusiasm. But this afternoon she hoped to avoid him. He was at a weekend basketball practice, a perfect time for her to exercise her most sensuous dance moves without enticing her son into doing something they would both regret. Or she would regret. She was beginning to doubt Danny ever would.

She had dressed in black -- a leotard, tights, a sheer little skirt that hid nothing, and high-heeled dance shoes. It was sexy, but not overly revealing like the midriff-baring crop tops or the mini-skirts would be. Choosing a Latin dance CD, she spun out onto the floor for some free dancing, a slower rumba to warm up. A samba came on, then jive and salsa. The disc she'd prepared cycled around to a tango, and she started to really wish she had a partner. She could move to any beat, but the tango was a dance that was meant to be shared.

Then hands were on her. She shivered. Danny or Steve home days early? But she knew his touch, dammit, already. His hands caressed her waist in a slow way that probably had much to do with his hesitancy but achieved a sensual slide along the fabric of her clothing. Steve would have grabbed her and spun her around so that she was forced to face him, demanding, possessing.

And his smell was the same earthy body wash and shampoo he had used since junior high school. A faint hint of sandalwood and spice. It had been too mature when he first insisted upon using it, but now it fit him.

"You didn't have practice," she said. Feet still moving, she turned and gathered one of his hands into hers. Her own shook, but she couldn't stop herself.

"I forgot it was canceled."

"Do you remember the tango? We haven't danced that in a while."

"We need to fix that."

His palm in hers was cool and dry, his other hand firm now on her waist. The music came to a place where she had taught him to dip her, and he did so in one smooth move, her left leg automatically rising, forcing her pelvis against his for a few seconds. For that moment, briefly, it seemed right and natural. They separated, turning side by side, his arm around her, her hip brushing his. The dance progressed, moving them apart and then together again. An erotic tease. Thighs touching, hands sliding along arms and shoulders. Each time they drew together, Danny pulled her a little closer. Each time his arm encircled her waist, his hand crept a little lower on her hip, until the heel of his palm rested on her ass, fingers spread. When the time came in the dance, she pressed against him in the same way.

The music ended with them face to face, foreheads touching, mouths millimeters apart. His warm breath caressed her face. The disc had no other tracks; the room fell into silence. Christie's hand rested against the center of Danny's chest. She could feel his heart hammering inside it, like her own heart did in hers, far more than from the exertion of the dance. Exhilaration warred with panic as she wondered what she would do if he kissed her right now. Let him? Break away? She couldn't move and the moment became Danny's to do with as he chose.

He kissed her.

And she let him.

Softly at first, not like the demanding kisses of the morning. His lips brushed hers, parting slightly. Then his tongue licked at her upper lip. She opened her lips to let him in, and met the tip of his tongue with her own. Their tongues danced for a moment and then dove deeper. Danny's hands spread over her back and ass; Christie's hands clutched at his shoulders but slid into his thick hair as he pulled her closer, tighter, his erection a hard ridge against her abdomen. Weak with passion, her breasts and clit inflamed, she clung to him as the kiss deepened. Danny broke the kiss with a soft gasp to move his lips to her jaw and then the side of her neck.

She had no idea he could kiss like this. Where had the boy learned it? That thought brought her back to reality. This was her son. Obviously a sensual young man, but still her son. With reluctance, she pushed him away to arm's length.

"Danny--"

"You want it," he said. "I know you do." He was looking at the floor, rather than at her. It was a determined look he finally gave her. Not angry, not embarrassed or humiliated. Determined. Intense. "You want it."

Christie separated from him, backing away. "No. I can't. I--" She turned and ran for the doorway, her steps light as a nymph's as she ascended the three steps. At the top she paused and turned toward him enough to only show him her profile but not enough to meet his eyes. "Don't come to my room tonight, Danny," she said before leaving the room.

Danny wasn't about to let this go. He took off after her, the squeak of his basketball shoes loud in the quiet room. He bounded up the steps and caught up with his mother seconds later in the hallway outside. Grabbing her around the waist, he spun her and firmly but gently pinned her to the wall.

"You want this," he said again.