"Oh god, I... I can't believe it." Sara leant forward, her head almost between her knees. She felt physically sick after hearing what she'd just heard. She felt the hand of Alison on her back, comforting her as if this was a sick joke.
"Don't worry, I can keep this between us." Sara turned to look at Alison,
"What? Is this where you ask me to give you money for your silence?" Sara was genuinely angry; anyone would be in her situation. She'd been asked over to Alison's house, their neighbour Alison from across the adjoining garden for, what she thought, was just a sit-down drink on a nice afternoon. As it turned out, it was much more than that. It was an ambush.
Recently, Sara had been more than just her usual self, and the standard suburban life she'd lived with her husband for the best part of 25 years now, had recently been upended by the advances of her own son. One day, a few weeks ago he put her in a situation where she let him have his way with her in the kitchen, ending with her bent over the kitchen counter, his cum dripping from inside her as she processed what had just happened. Then, about a week later, he made another advance on her whilst sunbathing in the garden that ended up with her sucking his cock, his cum covering her face, and then him going down between her legs, all right there in the garden. That last encounter she'd had a passing thought about someone seeing her, but in the following days and weeks she thought she'd gotten away without anyone seeing them... until now that was.
"Of course not, that's crass and would imply I thought what I saw was wrong." Alison stood up and walked out of the living room they were both sat in, disappearing into the kitchen. Sara thought about that, if Alison didn't think it was wrong, then why had she brought her here? "What kind of wine do you like?" Alison called from the other room,
"White. Pinot." Sara replied instinctively. She thought about making a run for it, just getting out of here and seeing what happened if she just tried to leave this all behind and run back to her normal life. Her son, Sam, hadn't made any moves on her in the past two weeks, so it might just be completely alright if she left here right now. Before she could make a move for anything though, Alison appeared with a chilled bottle of white wine and two glasses.
"I apologise, I didn't have any pinot, so I hope a Sauvignon Blanc is alright for you?" Alison said, beginning to pour out the wine. Sara nodded, and Alison poured out her glass as well.
"If you're not going to blackmail me then... what are you going to do?" Sara asked, looking warily at Alison, who took a sip of her wine.
"Well, I want to talk to you about what I saw." She smiled as she leant forward a little, Sara noticing that as she did, she now had a great view of her breasts. Even if she wasn't into women, Alison's size was apparent, and it was almost a natural reaction for her eyes to look down.
"Why do you want to talk about it?" Sara asked, trying not to let her eyes be drawn to the ever so clear cleavage,
"Because I'm interested," Alison said, taking another sip of her wine and adjusting her top a little, seeming to show more of her breasts, "I want to talk to a woman who has such a... close connection with her son. I want to know how you and your son came together to be so open about your relationship."
"It's not a relationship." Sara said quickly, her nerves were building as she even said that, for the first time admitting something happened. She grabbed the remaining glass of wine and took a big gulp. Whatever she said next could determine the rest of her life. Having her own son make advances on her was one thing, but talking to another person about this, admitting it happened was another. She realised that she'd basically drank half the glass of wine as she was thinking that all over, and the silence was left hanging. Alison wasn't going to speak first, she had all the time in the world, plus there was nothing at stake for her, other than finding out about some juicy gossip.
"Well, it started a few weeks ago..." Sara began, watching as Alison leant in close to her, listening intently to every word she said, her eyes filled with a carnal desire to hear about something that no mother should ever do with her son, let alone admit it to another person.
***
Sara sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. It had been a few days since she'd talked to Alison, and the talk had been so helpful for her, to be able to tell someone about her feelings, the emotions she had about what was going on. Alison, it turned out, was a licenced therapist, and so she walked Sara through everything, asking her questions and being able to make her see how she really felt about the situation. Sara had given her $10 to seal the entire conversation being the legal privilege, that meant if she told anyone, Sara could sue her for it; though it was clear Alison wasn't going to say anything to anyone, as she was excited to talk to Sara about everything.
The more they drank that afternoon, the more Sara said, and the more it made Alison push to ask her questions. Alison was fascinated by the subject, she didn't have a son of her own, but as she later admitted that a mother-son relationship was something she thought about a lot. It was clear that she wanted to hear the entire story from Sara, and once it was clear Alison wasn't going to tell anyone else, Sara told her everything. They concluded that it was clear Sam's feelings had been building for a while, and though nowhere near as strong as his, so had Sara's; having a handsome, young man who looks a lot like a younger version of one's husband does that (especially when said husband is typically not there).
However, as much as they had fun discussing these sexual encounters, Alison pointed out there it was clear Sam had all the power here, and as much as Sara might have enjoyed what happened, consent had been glossed over to get there. Sara didn't harbour any resentment for both encounters, and although she hadn't said no, it was clear that Sam pushed passed her brief refusals in a way that was unacceptable. So, a plan was concocted by the two of them to gain some of her agency back from him.
Sara had called Sam about half an hour ago, he'd been out doing some necessary, boring errands, though nothing that was incredibly urgent, and she knew he'd want to come back home for this. She told him she was waiting in her bedroom for him, and that we were going to talk about what happened. What she didn't say was that she was waiting for him in some of her best lingerie: stockings held up by suspenders attached to a lace garter belt, a meticulously designed bra, and panties that were see-through if one looked for long enough, all of them (aside from the stockings) black lace; on top of it all was a red satin dressing gown that ended at her thighs, covering the outfit but not the stockings. She also wore a pair of black high heels, making her body look better when she stood up. Her make-up was done as well, with vibrant red lipstick and smoky eyes that Alison had helped her with. She knew she looked better than she ever had in the past 10 years, and she knew Sam would not be able to resist her... but then again, that was the point.
She heard the front door open. She felt her mouth go dry. Standing up from the bed, she realised that she hadn't prepared anything to say. Of course, her and Alison had planned out the ideas, but not what she was literally going to say to Sam.
She could hear his footsteps on the stairs. She moved over to the mirror in the room, looking at her reflection. What was she doing? She was going to talk to her son like this? Surely, he'd get the wrong message. Well, talking wasn't the plan really it was to... well, talk to him and then fuck him. There, she'd admitted it, she was about to fuck her own son again.
His footsteps came down the hall towards the room, towards where she was sat waiting for him. Little did he know that she was waiting for him in lingerie, ready to fuck him. There was a knock on the door,
"Come in," she said, taking a deep breath as the door opened.
It all happened at once. She watched as Sam's face went from being a nervous kind of stoic to shocked, his face moulding into a wide-eyed desire of seeing her in the lingerie.
"Oh my god..." Sam said, stepping one step into the room. He seemed frozen in place, the only thing moving was his eyes, scanning up and down her body. She felt his gaze travelling up and down her like the beams of a searchlight looking for someone, but never finding exactly where to land. She walked back over to the bed and sat back down,
"Sit down, honey," she eventually said, patting the bed next to her, "We need to talk."
For a minute he stood there, seeming to barely hear her, his eyes completely fixated on her body. She felt his gaze on her skin, and for the first time in a long time, she enjoyed it, knowing it came from a primal place, one of lust and passion that should never have been opened. She loved him, and she knew the way she wanted things to be, but to get there they needed to talk, and with the way he was looking at her, she didn't know if she'd get that chance.
Finally, Sam moved from where he stood. He took a few steps towards her, towards the bed, and she didn't know what he was going to do. A part of her wanted him to sit down and have the conversation they needed to have, to discuss their way forward... but another part wanted him to take her right there, not to ask her or listen to anything she said. She wanted her own son to push her back onto the bed and use her however he wanted to. She was depraved, and she fought that urge. Sam's face seemed to go through the same journey. For a moment, his eyes had a fire in them that was terrifying, like a man possessed enough to do whatever he wanted to get what he wanted. However, as he got close, his eyes grew more controlled, more in line with conscious thoughts and he slowly sat down on the bed beside her.
"I think we both knew this was coming." Sara said after taking a breath, partially to think what she needed to say, partially to cool down from the thoughts of being ravaged (again) by her own son.
"Yeah, I think so." Sam said, looking down at his own feet. Sara realised that he was nervous, she'd never thought she'd see her son like this, frightened about what could happen next. He'd always been confident and brave, facing up to things, and now it made her heart quiver seeing him like this, so vulnerable.
"Honey, you know... what we've been doing is... well... it's something that isn't normal." She laid her hand on his back, shuffling over next to him, her leg touching his. "We need to talk about it because... well... we haven't said a word about it."
He looked up at her, nodding. He thought for a moment, and then leaned in to kiss her. She let him, of course she did. His lips met hers and she felt his tongue on her lips, and she was right back in the kitchen when he first kissed her, except this time she didn't just want it more, she needed it. She then realised what was happening, and placed her hand on his chest, pushing him away.
