All of the characters in this story are aged 18 years or older. This is a mother/son: Aunty/nephew incest themed story. There are a few, small, adultery references. Non-family, older women/younger man sex, is featured, as well, in the earlier parts of the story.
Dramatis personae
Sarah: a beautiful mother
Erika: Sarah's gorgeous younger sister
Jason: Sarah's horny and domineering older son
Matthew: Sarah's devoted and adoring younger son
Gina: Jason's older lover
Efemena: Jason's older lover
Kelly: Jason's older lover
Danielle: Jason's older lover
Katie: Jason's older lover
Simone: Jason's older lover
I hope you, who take the time to read this story, enjoy it. Please take a moment to vote and add a comment if you like it.
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PART ONE - THE MAKING OF A MAN
Jason pulled the laces tight on his running shoes. He stood up. He jogged on the spot for a few moments to warm up his muscles and joints. He stopped after twenty seconds. He sighed. He scratched his head. He exhaled clouds of fog in the icy temperature.
Jason turned on the spot. He began to run. He crossed the street. He turned right and began moving along the edge of the local parkland which occupied space directly across from his home and stretched its way south for several miles before ending at the water.
An occasional motorist drifted by in a nondescript suburban car. Jason watched the automobiles quietly pass him and then vanish into the translucent silver mist, which was hanging in the air, everywhere, at that time of the morning. Jason felt the sting of a light frozen breeze against his skin, but he moved swiftly so his body was warm.
Jason picked up his pace. His breathing was steady and soft. His heart thumped regularly and powerfully in his chest. The chipped and dripping fence line running along the edge of the murky parkland on his left flashed by as Jason raced over the wet, leaf covered, concrete path towards the south west.
Jason stopped momentarily. He continued to jog on the spot. He waited for another car to glide silently by before he left the parkland and the wet concrete path behind him, crossed the road and began running along a quiet suburban street.
This was a regular course for Jason to run. He always got up in the morning before school and went out jogging. He usually went quickly and without a break so he could complete the whole meandering circuit in about twenty minutes. Once finished, Jason would usually undress, grab his towel, turn on the shower taps, jump under the steaming hot water and wash the sweat off his skin. Once dried and dressed, he would usually eat, get his stuff together, jump in his good second hand car, drive to high school and attend classes. Jason had always been a creature of habit. He had always been predictable, but lately, however, circumstances had changed and things had gone awry.
Jason had turned 18 several months ago and he was in his final year of school. He was a tall and good looking guy. He was strong and he was muscular. He was athletic and good at sport. He was intelligent and getting good grades in the final months of high school. He was popular and well liked.
The suburban street Jason ran down looked ghostly. The line of homes on both the left and right side of the road he jogged down were outlined in grey and were vague and shapeless in the fog. The well kept and well organized lawns and garden beds looked dreary in the mist. The sound of Jason's footfalls on the path echoed in the street as he picked up his pace again.
The houses and the lawns flashed by as he began sprinting. Jason reached the end of the street. He abruptly stopped. He put his hands on his upper thighs. He bent over. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had lost conscious control of his breathing. He coughed explosively.
"Damn it," Jason gasped, "not a smart move, bud."
Jason stood up. He put his hands on his hips. He began walking around in slow tight circles as he willed his heart rate to slow and tried to bring his labored breathing back to normal. It didn't take long for the strong 18 year old to get over his wild sprint down the road. He was now ready to make his choice.
"Which way, bud," Jason asked himself.
Her home was just around the corner, Jason reminded himself, though he needed no reminding. Jason let his imagination run wild for a moment. Her name was Gina, but she was more commonly known to Jason as Mrs. Newman. She lived in a modest home, in a quiet suburban street, just around the corner from where Jason was currently standing. Gina Newman was Jason's art teacher.
What a stroke of luck it had been, Jason thought, and what a coincidence! He had been out running in the morning fog just a month before. He had decided, on the spur of the moment, to disregard his usual course and change the route. Instead of turning right he had suddenly turned left.
Jason ran down the street where his female art teacher lived. He had no idea that she, her husband and her three children lived in that location. Jason had never run that way before so he never realized Gina dwelt there.
Jason's discovery had been simple enough. Jason had turned left. He had been running along without a thought in his head or a care on his mind. Gina appeared out of nowhere as Jason approached her property line in the mist. She hadn't seen him, but he had seen her as he flew past. The brief image of Mrs. Newman was indelibly etched into Jason's memory. She was standing in her driveway. A car was running. Her husband was climbing into the car. Smoke was pouring out of the tailpipe into the fog. Gina was walking towards the open door on the driver's side. It looked like Gina was carrying something.
