"Morning, lover," Charlotte said. She brushed her bruised lips against his. Her kiss was soft and fleeting.
July sunlight streamed through the blinds. The heat-wave dragged on into another day. The night before had been stifling; the window had been left wide open. The drone of a bee lurching drunkenly through the air was the only sound. It landed on a poster of Megan Fox leaning over the engine of a car. It crawled over her body. Daniel and Charlotte lay together, wondering if this was the end of a disturbing dream.
Daniel held his beautiful mother in his arms. Their bodies were entwined in the place they had fallen. His room reeked of sweat. The bedsheets were around their ankles. Her pyjama bottoms lay discarded at the door. Charlotte's body was hot and slippery. He could feel her long legs tight around him. He brushed her damp hair from her face. Her hair was black, and there was lots of it. It spilled onto the pillow. She was forty, and still gorgeous. She was wearing her face from the night before. Her lipstick was smeared, her mascara thick and clogged. She stared unapologetically at him; dusky blue eye-shadow made her eyes look bigger.
They stared at each other for a long time, paralysed.
"Mom," he started. "I'm really sorry..."
"Shhh!" She stopped his words, placing a finger against his lips. "Don't you dare!"
"But..." He stopped talking. He could taste her finger on his lips; he knew where it had been. Her flavour was intoxicating. He sucked her finger. No, he had to stop. He had to say something.
"You're incredible, but we shouldn't have..."
Charlotte kissed him hungrily. Her tongue probed his mouth. She grabbed his head in both hands, pulling at his hair to stop him getting away, but there was no need to force him. She dropped her kiss on him like a nuclear bomb. It wiped out all resistance. Her lips tasted of vodka. His tongue battled hopelessly with hers.
Charlotte's body and mind were boiling. All she could think of was having sex with him again. She kissed him deeply. She dragged her nails along his back. She felt like an Icelandic volcano. She had been dormant for years, but now she was hurling a column of fiery magma into the sky, and closing down European airspace on a whim.
His hands forced her legs wider apart. He was poised between them, like a cavalry brigade preparing to charge into the valley of death. His cock was snorting, stamping its hooves. He knew what it desired. He just needed to hear her say yes.
She nibbled on one of his earlobes. He heard his mother's ragged breath. "Fuck me! Fuck me like you did last night!" she whispered.
Then her mouth was hard on his. His cock lunged towards the warm folds of her yearning pussy. He missed. His conscience had the chance to scream at him as his cock slapped against her stomach. She reached down and grasped his erection. It was huge, swollen. He grunted. She started to guide him inside her.
Daniel had second thoughts. Doubt plagued him. He seized her wrist, and stopped her. He pulled away suddenly, breaking off their incredible kiss. Her red lips glistened, wet and welcoming. He wanted her so much. He caught his breath. "Hang on. Shouldn't we talk about this?"
"Daniel, it's okay."
"No, it's not! It's not as simple as that!"
They lay there, sweating, each thirsting for the other. Her eyes pleaded with his.
He feasted his eyes on her, marvelling at the sight of her naked body. Her slender legs wound around him. Her ass followed the perfect roundness of a classical Greek sculpture. The curve of her back was elegant. He couldn't see her breasts properly because she was lying on top of him, but he could feel the weight of them against his chest. He remembered she had wanted to be a dancer when she was younger. She still had a breath-taking figure.
"Don't you want me?" She was suddenly horrified. Was he refusing her? Was he... rejecting her?
"Oh yes. I want you."
She smiled, deploying an even more devastating weapon. "Don't you love me?"
"I love you, Mom." Her smile was bewitching. "But we have to come to terms with what happened last night."
"Bullshit!" Charlotte struggled free, rolling over him to straddle him. She knew if she sat atop his throbbing cock, allowing it to slide inside her, that it would solve everything. His guilty conscience wouldn't just be silenced - it would be bound and gagged and taken for a ride into the desert locked in the boot of a car.
"Not so fast!" Daniel pinned her down. The animal part of him wanted to give in, to ravish this wanton woman. He held her wrists. Charlotte's hands clenched into fists. Suddenly, she was angry. She spat into his face. Saliva covered his lips. He tasted it. She bared her teeth and tried to bite him. Daniel was even more turned on. She was a snarling, primal bitch. He had to control himself, as well as her.
"Stop it!" Daniel seized her arms and pulled her sideways. He rolled, laying on top of her, pressing his body against hers. She was thrilled. Her soft flesh was crushed by his hard naked body against the mattress. She kicked, pretending to struggle.
"What's wrong with you?"
"You didn't think this was over, did you? You don't fuck a woman as hard as you fucked me all night, then go limp on her in the morning!"
Now Daniel was angry. His mother had no right to speak to him like that. He was nineteen, she was forty. He was adolescent and horny; she was meant to be the responsible one. Instead she was provoking him.
"I'm not fucking limp! Far from it!" He displayed his cock to her proudly. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of it. "I'm just... Oh, fuck you! You can be a real bitch!"
"You know something? You're sexy when you're angry?"
"We need to talk." Daniel could feel her heartbeat racing beneath him.
Charlotte smirked. "Talk? We've gone too far! We're a million miles past talking! Which part of what happened last night would you like to discuss? Me frigging myself senseless while you secretly watched? Me screaming your name when I came? You jerking off, coming all over my face and tits? You running away? Me following you? The two of us fucking each other's brains out? You pumping your mother full of cum? Waking up together in your bed? Or here and now, us naked and fighting? Me wanting more of you?"
Daniel swallowed. He relished her, her dripping sarcasm, her angry lust. "We're going to feel guilty," Daniel said. "At the moment, this is unreal. A dream. But soon, you and I are going to wake up, racked with guilt. The real world will come crashing in."
Charlotte glared at her son. The fight went out of her. She wiped her forehead. Her voice was quiet and halting. "I thought if we carried on, if I insisted on us carrying on, then all this would eventually be seen as my fault. All the blame would fall on me. I wanted to take the burden from your shoulders. Which, by the way, are gorgeous."
"It's not your fault," Daniel insisted. "This is why we need to talk. We've both got to accept an equal share of guilt. It's as much my fault as it was yours."
Charlotte shook her head. "No, it wasn't." Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mascara ran, leaving watery black lines.
Daniel hugged his mother. He didn't care at that point that she was naked and beautiful, or even that she was his mother. She was another human being who he loved, and he wanted to hold her. He wanted to make her feel better.
"I can't believe I stripped my clothes off in the living room, and... masturbated. What was I thinking?"