I recommend you read up to Chapter 5 of Fantasies Fulfilled or what follows will probably be even more meaningless than it already is.
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Irene awoke with a start. There was something... what was it? Something important, something ... "Ooohhh fuckkk!"
The heavy arm draped across her, pressed home the facts. Carefully she took a hold of it by the wrist and lifted it away from her, gently laying it down at her naked son's side. Quietly and carefully she eased her legs out of the bed and stood. Hardly daring to breath she looked down her own torso, she was of course naked. Dejectedly she eyed her small, slightly sagging breasts, fine silvery stretch marks pointed the way to the hard dark nipples that even now betrayed her inner most feelings. Her soft abdomen and small tummy also covered with stretch marks, caused all those eighteen years ago by the same son who had just a few hours ago...
"What have I done?" she murmured to herself.
Hardly daring to look she raised her heavy eyes to the full length mirror in front of her. Her brunette dyed greying hair a tangle from when Robbie had kissed her so passionately before...
Her thick dark pubic hair was uncomfortably matted from their combined fluids. She used her arms to try to cover herself from her own gaze. In the mirror she could see her son's 'morning glory' tenting the thin sheet that covered his lower half.
"What have I done?" she murmured once more. She could not believe how stupid she had been. How could she have let this happen? What was she thinking?
Quietly she crept out of the room taking a wrap around gown and slippers with her.
In the bathroom she showered away the evidence, cleaned and groomed herself without once daring to look in the mirror. Once again wearing the gown she made her way passed her room, Robbie was still asleep, she went down stairs and prepared a pot of tea, she sat at the table cup in hand, "What have I done?"
Robbie opened his eyes. Something was different. What was that smell? Perfume?
"Oh Fuck!"
"Fuck!"
He jerked upright and looked around the room. His mother's room. He was alone.
"I fucked my mother!" he mouthed, "I fucked my mother."
"I kissed her... fucking hell!" His cock spasmed painfully. He became aware of a noise in the bathroom, "She's in the shower." He thought to himself. "Oh shit! What do I do? How will she be? Is she expecting me to do her again? I want to do her again."
The bathroom door opened. He panicked, he could not face her like this, it was too scary, too embarrassing, he dropped to the mattress and closed his eyes, barely able to breath. His mother walked passed the open door and carried on down stairs. Slowly he sucked in a breath. What did that mean? What should he do? What dare he do? Robbie lay there too nervous and scared to move. Downstairs the sound of clinking china subsided, perhaps she would bring him breakfast in bed?
It was a full two hours before Robbie mustered the courage to dress and go downstairs to face his mother.
In those hours, he had gone over the events of yesterday in his mind about a thousand times. Mrs Robinson, he had actually had his cock sucked by a beautiful older woman that he had only met about half an hour before. He had licked her naked cunt and sucked her big tits he had almost got his cock into her but had cum too soon. All with his naked mother there on the bed. "Fucking hell! Mrs Anne Robinson!" He fondled his aching cock. Then he had fucked his mother. Fucked her on this very bed, and she had fucked him back. He could smell her on the sheets, on the pillow, he inhaled the cloth deeply and jerked his cock to orgasm. The wet patch he was lying in got bigger.
Downstairs was empty, his mother had gone out. The ironing board was out, Irene had obviously dressed from the clean washing basket. She was avoiding him. However he could not get the image of the naked women spread on the bed waiting for him to ....
Upstairs he rummaged through the dirty linen basket and found two pairs of his mothers panties, one black, one red, and a black bra. Naked and on his own bed he rubbed the bra against his own chest and sniffed the heavily marked gusset of the red panties, the intense scent of the long worn underwear sent his hand into a frenzy once more. He spurted a heavy load into his mothers other pair.
A couple of hours later and still he had not heard from her, he dare not phone her mobile. He could only imagine that he was in deep, deep trouble. But still the images played in his brain. The picture that was most prominent was that of Anne's tits swaying in his face. He tried to picture his mother's body, he was aware that she was very hairy between her legs and that her tits were smaller and harder than Anne's, but frankly in the dim afternoon light with the blinds or curtains drawn he had hardly seen her. He had fucked his mother twice but he could only truly visualise Anne's much more rounded frame.
Once again he found himself in his mothers room sporting a strong erection and grasping her 'scented' red knickers. He was poking around in her night stand. Up until yesterday he had never really thought of his mother as a woman, she was his mother and that was that. The new found sexual animal within her was a total revelation to him and he wanted to find out more. An old packet of tampons met his eye, then a tube of KY jelly, then a couple of old batteries. The vibrator at the back of the drawer buzzed readily into life, it was the first one he had ever actually held and its existence in his mothers bedside drawers excited him more than anything he could remember.
"My mother's a wanker!"
He held it to his nose and sniffed, it was clean. How many times had she used this on her... up her...?
Robbie rubbed the buzzing toy against the tip of his large rigid cock. It was pleasant but not massively exciting, perhaps he was doing it wrong. He thought about his own mother thrusting this thing in and out of herself whimpering as she secretly reached orgasm. Once more he tugged himself to a spurting conclusion.
Outside Irene turned her car into the driveway and looked at the house she was not looking forward to this.
Robbie heard her car door and ran to his own room, he lay on the bed and once again pretended to be sleeping.
Irene closed the front door behind her, the house looked exactly as it had before she had left. She had to leave, she could not possibly face her son after what she had done to him. But now she had resolved to beg his forgiveness and to try and put it behind them.
"Robbie! Robbie are you home?" She called up the stairs.
It was not her angry voice.
"Up here." He called.
She was relieved, to hear his voice, she had half expected him to have left. She climbed the stairs and lightly tapped on his door before opening it.
Robbie sat up on the bed, a look of uncertainty on his face.
Irene began crying. "Oh God, what have I done to you? Robbie," she crossed the room and sat on the bed clawing at his shoulders. "Robbie? Please forgive me." The tears poured down her face dripping not from her cheek bones but following the deep wrinkles and frown lines ultimately appearing somewhere near ear lobes.
Where had this come from? What was it she was supposed to have done?
He put his arms around her tiny frame. "What's wrong mum?"
"What's wrong? Don't you realise what we did, what I did?"
"It was great."
"It wasn't great it was wrong, very, very wrong."
"I'm sorry I thought it was good, I've never done it before. I just need practice."
"I mean it was a sin, a massive sin. It's against the law. We could go to jail. It was all my fault. I'm sorry."
"I thought you were angry at me." He explained.
"Angry? No I'm not angry, I just woke up this morning with a huge dose of reality. I slept with my son."
Robbie thrilled at the words. "It was fantastic."
Irene was shocked at the levity in his voice. "Don't you feel an ounce of guilt?"
"Why? I loved every second of it."
"I'm your mother."
"I know, isn't it great?"
"No regrets at all?"
Robbie licked some tears from her wrinkled face. "I regret not doing it sooner."
"I thought you would hate me. How could I do that to my own son?"
"I did sort of push you into it."
"I should have refused."
"I must admit I was kind of surprised how quickly you gave in. I figured I'd have to work on you for days."
Irene began to sob. "I'm such a slut."
"I guess Anne had us both worked up."
"Anne? Anne who?" Irene had forgotten the false name Elaine had made up.
"Anne. Anne Robinson. You remember you stripped her naked and tried to shove my penis into her."
"Of course I know."
"So how long have you been sleeping with her?"
"I'm not."
"You always behave that way with strangers?"
Robbie pulled her skinny frame to him and hugged. "It's alright mum, I'm fine. It's all fine. I was a little shocked to discover that my own mother had those urges, I never thought about it before."
Irene rested her tearful face against his shoulder. "You shouldn't have to, that's the point. You should be bringing young girls home and going out to the cinema and just having fun."
"Would you like me to bring young girls home?" There was a leer in his voice.
