A Fiery Affair

Layla Firth sat in front of her laptop at the kitchen table poring over the household budget, a pile of bills beside the screen. Her eyes swept up from her labours to her son as he crossed the room towards the fridge. He had grease on his hands and on the white t-shirt he wore.

"How did you go Honey, fix it?" She asked.

His muscled arm reached out for the handle and had the door open before answering. "Nuh uh," he replied, pulling the carton of juice from the shelf. "Not even the few videos I watched on Youtube can solve this problem. I think you're gonna have to get someone out." Logan lifted the carton to his mouth and drank.

The unpaid bills were bad enough; the car breaking down was definitely something she could do without; her son drinking directly from the source was the straw that broke the camel's back and she lost her cool. "Oh for Christ's sake Logan, how many times have I told you not to drink from the carton?"

Incredulous, he looked at the drink and back to his mother. "You don't drink this! It's just you and me here."

"It's not the point. What if we have guests?"

Logan shrugged and tried to stop himself smirking. "And one of these so called guests only wants a drink of my cheap ass juice?"

"If you want an expensive brand, buy the bloody thing yourself!" Layla yelled.

"What's up your ass?" Logan asked and immediately regretted it.

"What's up my ass?" Layla repeated. Her hand swept up the pile of bills. "I'm behind on the house, the water is overdue, the power has gone up. Again. And you don't seem to give a shit or show me any respect. I ask you to not to do one little thing and..." She stopped herself when she saw the look on her son's face. The hurt.

Logan thrust the juice back into the fridge and slammed the door. "I don't need this shit!" He declared and quickly walked back the way he'd come, wiping his hands on his jeans and leaving her again alone.

"Ugh," Layla exclaimed, slumping back into her chair and hating herself for losing her temper. Her problems weren't his doing, he hadn't deserved it. In fact if it wasn't for Logan's income and the monthly rent he paid her, they would've been out on the street long before. She rose and went to the fridge, taking out a bottle of opened riesling. The thought of drinking directly from the bottle made her smile and went a long way to tempering her mood but she took a wine glass from the cupboard instead.

* * * * *

Logan rinsed the soap from his hands under the garden tap as his mother came out onto the back lawn. Wearing blue denim cut offs and a white t-shirt she sidled over to her son and casually bumped her hip against his. "Great minds think alike," she offered as Logan rebalanced.

"What?" He asked, turning off the tap and again wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Our outfits. We match," she observed.

"Oh." Logan stated, unsure what it had to do with anything.

Layla took a sip from her glass and held it out, offering her son a taste. "It's a nice one!" To which Logan shook his head. "Hey look, I'm sorry Honey," Layla proffered. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Logan looked at his mother in the eye. "Are the finances really that bad?"

"Ugh," Layla took another drink of wine. "We'll get by. I'm overdue a raise at work. Put it this way, I don't have to start walking the streets just yet!" She noticed the flippant comment caused her son to blush and she smiled. "But really, your money helps a lot. I shouldn't have yelled." She held out her arms in offer of a hug and was warmed by her son's embrace. Slightly taller than her, she rested her head against the side of his, his strong arms around her shoulders.

Logan fathomed she must have felt pretty ashamed at her behaviour to feel it necessary to offer a consolatory hug. They were close. Closer since his father died. Not overly touch feely though and hugs were rare between them, as her body pressed to his he was ashamed at noticing her breasts against his own torso. More than that, his groin against her belly.

"Anyway," Layla kissed him on the cheek and broke the embrace. "I just wanted to say sorry. Drink your bloody juice however you like, okay."

Logan smiled and as one they looked toward the car. "So is it really dead?" Layla asked.

"Afraid so," he replied. "I think it's the alternator, but I'm not sure."

Layla looked back blankly. "How much?"

"Not sure about that either, it won't be cheap."

"Ugh," Layla moaned. "More bills."

There was a moment of silence between them before Layla spoke again. "Ooh I have some news."

"Oh?" Logan asked.

"You'll never guess who I ran into at work the other day?" She proclaimed smiling.

Logan waited a moment for her to continue but when she didn't he asked. "Okay, who?"

"Willow Jessup!" Layla watched the name register on her son's face and noticed the blush.

"Oh yeah," Logan replied trying to play it cool. The name bringing back so many memories of his childhood. His first crush on a girl, his first kiss. And then the not so fond memories of being in the thrall of someone out of your league. The longing, the humiliation. All through school she'd been the unattainable object of his desire, his dream girl and she knew it, playing on it at every opportunity to her benefit. "What was she there for?" He asked.

"Visiting her father. She's back from Europe, to stay I think." Layla drowned the rest of her glass before dropping her bombshell. "She asked about you!"

For Logan it was too much. He'd tried to forget her after school and when he'd learnt of her living in Europe it seemed the temptation had been removed forever. To hear that she was back and not only that, was asking of him was possibly too good to be true. "What did you say?" He asked, hoping she hadn't said anything to embarrass him.

"I told her you were still working at the supermarket and still living at home!" Layla beamed.

"Oh Mom!"

"What? It's the truth!" Layla stated.

"You could've at least told her I was a manager," Logan proposed, his shoulders slumping.

"Oh, I guess I could've," Layla confessed. "I didn't think, sorry. But that's not all the news!"

"What? You told her I wet the bed as well?"

Layla laughed. "No, we've been invited to their house on the weekend. Duncan is having a sort of 'end of summer' party. Willow will be there."

It was the nest news Logan had heard all week and he wondered why his mother hadn't told him earlier. He'd changed so much since school, since he'd last seen her. Admittedly he'd been dorky back then. Uncoordinated and bookish, he realized he'd not given her much of a reason to respond to his affection but now things had changed. Yes, he was still at the same job and yes he was living at home but now he was a grown man. The body of an athlete. He was also aware of his attractiveness to women although a lack of self confidence usually sabotaged his amorous endeavours.

That his mother had ended up working for his childhood crush's father was now turning out to be a convenient coincidence and not only for Logan. Layla herself had eyes on a Jessup, and not the daughter. When news of Duncan's divorce passed around the office, there were many of the single women whose ears pricked up. In his late forties and infinitely wealthy, he was undoubtably a catch and Layla having known him outside work through her son's friendship with Willow was first to offer her condolences and a supportive shoulder if needs be. To this point, it hadn't but the offer of attending his party where so few workmates had been invited, to her mind hinted of something other than friendship.

"You know Mom, it's not a 'house,' it's an estate!" Logan finally replied. He recalled Willow's lavish parties as children. Hide and seek on the grounds; Willow locking him for an hour alone inside a cupboard. Swimming in their landscaped pool; Willow pushing him fully clothed into the pool after kissing him at a party. His relationship with her had been troubled but not without some happiness.

"That's a good point," Layla reflected on her son's comment. "It's in the hills. With the car out of action, how are we going to get there?"

"We're not showing up on the bus!" Logan was quick to dismiss, the thought of Willow seeing him arriving on public transport, not one he cared to ponder. "We can just get an Uber."

"So you'll come?" Layla asked, knowing her son's ongoing desire for the Jessup girl.

"Yeah I guess, but what exactly did Willow say? What kind of party is it?" Logan asked. "Please tell me it's not fancy dress."

"Oh God, heavens no," Layla laughed. "They just said it was a casual get together around the pool. Oh, that reminds me I have to find my swimsuit. Eww! I haven't worn one in years," the sudden realization Duncan would see her half naked finally dawning on her. "Oh God I'll probably look awful in it."

Logan wasn't concerned about how his mother was going to look, his mind squarely focused on how Willow would look. The last time he'd seen her was after graduation, three years prior. A goddess then, surely nothing had changed, he thought.

"...I know it's awkward but you'll do it?" Layla asked.

"What?" Logan replied coming out of his daydream and only catching the last of his mother's comment.

"My swimsuit," Layla repeated. "If I go put it on would you be honest and tell me if I look alright?"

Logan shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Whatever," he replied before allowing his mind to drift back to images of Willow.

* * * * *

Layla had stood before her mirror in the orange one-piece swimsuit and was aghast at what she saw in the reflection. Her skin was pale, pubic hair escaped either side of her crotch and she'd obviously put on pounds since she last wore it. Ultimately in her eye she looked a reject from the set of Baywatch. After showering and shaving her legs and bikini line she again squeezed back into the bathing suit.

Logan was laying back on the sofa browsing Facebook when his mother called from the hallway. "Alright be honest," she stated before walking barefoot into the living room.

Logan turned his head and sat up when he saw the vision before him, so out of place. She wore less than he'd seen her wearing in years. His mother's near naked body covered only by the tightest one-piece he had ever seen. He hadn't wanted to, but his eyes went straight to her breasts looking larger than normal and stretching the material, bulging out either side. Cool inside the house, her nipples stood rigid and took him by surprise, Logan unable to recall actually ever noticing them prior.

It didn't end there. His gaze traversed downwards. His mother's belly wasn't flat but it was the bulge below that caught his eye. He may have only stared at it for a moment but the mound of his mother's pussy etched into his brain.

"Well," Layla asked, doing a quick turn to show the rear. "Can I pull it off?"

As Logan was forced to look at his mother's ass, barely contained in the swimsuit as it came into view, he almost choked on the potential double meaning of her question.

"Um, er, I.." Logan stumbled.

"Ugh...say no more," Layla sighed. "I know. It's awful."

"It's maybe a little tight," Logan finally managed to say.

"Well that's a nice way of saying I'm fat I suppose," Layla forced a laugh.

"No I didn't say that!" Logan was quick to defend himself. "Maybe you could buy something more modern."

"Nup," Layla steadfastly replied. "I don't have the money and there's no time. Nah, I just won't go swimming, it's no big deal."

She was quick to duck back out of the room and Logan took one last glance at her bottom as she left. 'Can I pull it off?' He thought and tried to hold back a grin before reminding himself she was his mother. Trying to dismiss the image of her in his mind he typed Willow's name into a search and came up with recent photos. She looked better than ever and it both excited and depressed him.

Layla again gazed at her own reflection. He blushed, she thought. My baby blushed when he looked at me. Contrary to her attitude in front of Logan, she'd grown to like the way she looked in the swimsuit. She loved the way her breasts (her own favourite feature) stretched the nylon/lycra. The way her ass bulged from the rear. There was no way she could wear it in public of course, especially in front of Duncan. She needed to be classy before him and she had to admit as she lowered the straps over her shoulders, she looked so slutty right now. And she loved it.

As she dragged the swimsuit over her crotch she looked down and noticed the gusset was sopping. She pressed her inner thighs together and they were slippery. What's that about? She thought and immediately the image of Logan gazing at her body came to mind. What are you doing Layla? She sternly asked herself and finished removing the bathing suit, finding a pair of comfy panties in her drawer and trying to think of something other than Logan. Fully dressed she began planning dinner.

* * * * *

The home shopping channel had been particularly good viewing lately; Logan finding it useful when at times like this he needed a 'quick release.' He'd caught the end of a swimwear sale the day previous and was hoping for something similar. Sadly a cooking segment was playing and he switched off the television, closing his eyes in his darkened bedroom and instead thought of Willow.

Her cheerleader outfit always worked to fuel his fantasy. She'd flash her panties to him as she performed a routine. She wore a catsuit at a halloween party and her black lace bra was visible through the semi transparent, skin tight material. They drank beer together at a pool party and her nipples were hard as she rose from the cool water. Something changed. The fantasy he'd used over and over all based on actual events altered without his doing. Her swimsuit became orange. As he stroked his cock, the bikini morphed into a one-piece. Finally, his sub-conscious turned Willow into his mother. Rising from the water, her body slick, the swimsuit transparent and her pussy clearly visible.

He came onto his belly and chest and his eyes shot open. "Shit," he whispered to his empty room. "What the fuck was that?" He asked himself and felt dirty, the euphoria of the orgasm subsiding quicker than normal. Logan cleaned up and looked at the time. He brought his mind back to Willow and whispered to himself as he tried to get back to sleep. "Only one more day."

* * * * *

The fires swept through the neighboring county and everyones eyes were on social media, their ears on the radio and warnings. Duncan emailed on the morning of, that the party would go ahead and by 11am mother and son were pulling up outside the Jessup estate in the Uber.

They walked the steep drive lined with Range Rovers, Porsches and seemingly every other European country's luxury car company included. Passing a Lamborghini, Logan mentioned whether they were really meant to be there and his mother shared his inadequacy with nervous laughter. In solidarity, Logan had joined with his mother and not worn swimwear, but in the heat was beginning to regret his decision to wear jeans. Layla however was enjoying the breeze flowing between her bare thighs under her short summer dress. She felt the hot wind lift it from the rear and as she slapped a hand behind herself she wondered if it had been wise to wear a thong?

The sound of the party escaped the house and being greeted by staff they were ushered through to the rear of the property. The layout of the estate came back to Logan immediately. The sweeping back lawn leading down to the pool and pool-house. Many guests were gathered under a marquee on the lawn keeping out of the sun, while others enjoyed the heat, reclining on lounges in varying states on undress.

Looking around, none of those attending were known to mother and son and for a minute they stood uncomfortably looking on before being offered drinks by the wait staff. At once their shoulders were clutched from behind and the familiar voice of Duncan Jessup greeted the new arrivals. "Layla, Logan, great to see you made it," he looked them up and down and frowned. "I hope you've got your swimsuits on under there, it's getting hotter by the minute."

Layla thought of the tiny thong she wore under her dress and Duncan imagining what was beneath her clothing. At forty one, a confident business woman with a fully grown son and she couldn't stop herself blushing under the gaze of her crush. "Isn't it though!" She managed. "We were worried about the fires."

"Yeah blasted thing," Duncan acknowledged. "We were just inside checking the warnings. We should be okay here though."

"'We?'" Logan added and Duncan smiled at the younger man's hint.

"Yes, Willow and I," he laughed, knowing all too well Logan's almost lifelong friendship with his daughter. "She's around here somewhere."

As if his words had summoned his daughter, Willow walked from the house out into the sunlight. Logan had done all he could to prepare himself. His plan was to be cool, to be funny, to show her he wasn't still the kid she knew back then. That all went out the window as she strode towards him. No, he thought. She floated across the lawn. A princess, a queen, carried by unseen slaves. Golden hair and tanned skin. The white bikini top laden with ample baggage. A sarong around her waist split to reveal the matching briefs. She was a goddess in the realm of mortals and Logan was dragged back to the awkward schoolboy before her. Time seemed to stand still, all sound but that of his heart ceased until she spoke.

"Well hello stranger," Willow smiled towards him and striving to possess the shred of confidence left in him, Logan opened his arms to take her in an embrace. She smelled as good as she looked and the cheek kiss she offered, her breasts against his chest would satisfy nighttime fantasies for years to come, he decided. "Ms. Firth. So good to see you again," Willow continued as they broke apart. Like her father, her eyes drifted over mother and son's bodies. "You didn't bring your swimwear?"

"That's what I was just saying," Duncan added. "Surely you could lend Layla something of yours Honey? You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all Daddy," Willow responded and before either Layla or Logan had a chance to say anything, Layla found herself being led by the hand by Willow back into the house.

The men watched them go and as if on cue the wind changed direction causing Layla's dress to blow up the back of her legs. His mother's hand wasn't fast enough to prevent her bottom being displayed and although Logan's eyes were on Willow, the unexpected flash of bare buttocks caused him for a moment to question whether she wore underwear at all. Logan and Duncan turned to one another simultaneously and the younger man was thankful Duncan didn't mention what they had both just witnessed. "If you head down to the pool-house Logan, you'll find swimming trunks of mine in there. Take what you will, I'm sure there's a pair that suits you." He looked down at the boy's glass. "Champagne? Let's find you something a little better, what do you say?"

* * * * *

Layla felt a little uncomfortable being held by the hand by the younger woman. That she kept their touch all the way up the staircase and into the girl's room was also awkward but she was in a foreign world. The super wealthy did things differently she knew, and if her senses were correct and Duncan was just as interested in her as she was in him, this could be a life she would have to become accustomed to. Looking around at the opulence on display, she was sure she could make an exception.

The girl's room was bigger than half of Layla's house and the walk-in robe the size of Layla's bedroom. Hanging from racks were swimsuits and none that Layla could see were aimed at a middle aged woman. Willow didn't seem as adverse to the idea, taking a black bikini from the hanger and presenting it to Layla.