Cream And Coco Ch 01

All characters are at least 18 years old.

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There was a stranger in my house.

I don't know when it happened, and I had no idea what to do about it. He was tall. He was smart. He was confident.

But somewhere along the way, my son had begun to turn into a different person.

The woman on the computer screen moaned louder. I was standing at my son's desk, transfixed as a porn video played on his desktop. His computer had woken itself up when a download had completed, and I suppose the file had opened itself. Now, there was nothing wrong with him viewing things like this. Honestly it would be concerning if he weren't expressing interest. But the thing that was screaming at me, searing into my mind with gut-wrenching clarity, was the title: "Mom and son's secret weekend."

"Mom?"

My hand on the mouse went into a frenzy as I scrambled to pause the video, mute it, something. I ended up closing the whole window before gathering myself and turning around.

"Drew!" I said with false cheer, slightly panting. "You're back early!"

"Yeah. I am." His tall figure filled the doorway as he stared me down, short dirty blond hair wild as ever. I could've kicked myself. The vacuum cleaner sitting inert next to me had seemed to amplify the earlier sounds of sex with its silence. What kind of backwards universe were we in that the child caught the parent watching porn?

"I was just..." I waved my hands helplessly at the vacuum, then at his computer, and finally fluttered them about vaguely. And I giggled. Lord almighty, just kill me now.

"So I see." He averted his gaze and swallowed. It occurred to me that he must be as embarrassed as I was. I had just caught him watching this video as much as he had caught me. Somehow that made me feel worse. Who knew what was going through his head right now?

"I'll... uh... I'll just be..." I tugged the vacuum toward his door and was stopped short by the plug still in the socket. Muttering under my breath, I unplugged the machine and shuffled out of his room, Drew standing aside to allow passage. I was... What was the word? *Mortified*. Yes, that's it. I stowed the vacuum cleaner and heard his door close, then let out a shaky breath.

Perhaps it was the first time he'd watched such a video. Perhaps he'd downloaded it by accident. Perhaps a friend had sent him the file. Perhaps he was ignoring the taboo aspect of it.

Perhaps pigs could fly.

I shook my head as I walked to the kitchen to begin cooking dinner. Surely, *surely*, he hadn't intended on pleasuring himself to that video. Not my boy. I'd raised him... How had I raised him? "Alone" seemed the first word to come to mind, selfish as it was. Not entirely alone, I admitted. My own parents had been a world of help during the first few years I was getting on my feet.

But was this the result of Drew not having a father figure in his life? After what had happened all those years ago, I couldn't bear the thought of meeting another man. In fact it had never even crossed my mind, I mused as I readied a casserole.

With crystal clarity, the image of the woman in the porno being ravaged by her "son" invaded my thoughts. She wasn't some skinny teen with a boob job. I believe she would be called a MILF, or something like that. Having a teenage son lets one pick up modern slang whether one wanted to or not. I used to hear him chatting with his best friend Stefan when they played video games together, and things like that would pop up. Asking Jazz at work about their meanings would always leave me blushing.

I left the casserole in the oven and went to my room to change and freshen up. I was just in my ensuite splashing water on my face to calm myself when the sink went. With a ping, the handle rocketed off the faucet and cracked the mirror, and I screamed. Water began spraying everywhere, and in seconds I was drenched. Forcing my palm over the opening only exasperated the water pressure.

Hearing my scream, Drew came running in. "What's going on?" he asked, voice full of worry before he saw the apparent problem. "Aw, shit." He pulled me out of the bathroom and began looking under the sink for some way to shut the water off. It was incredible how quickly my bedroom was filling with water, soaking into the carpet.

It was the start of winter and already the water was frigid. I considered stripping out of my clothes to warm up, but Drew was right there, hopelessly staring at pipes he didn't understand. He got up and rushed back into his room, and I took the chance to peel my shirt off before starting to work on my leggings. I looked back at my bathroom and realized in dismay that the water was ricocheting off the door and straight onto my bed, for long enough that the mattress was already soaked through in several places.

Drew rushed back in with his phone and I covered myself while he watched a tutorial on YouTube. He stopped short when he saw me in my underwear, his gaze taking the scenic route down the length of my body. After an uncomfortable moment of me beginning to squirm he seemed to compose himself, and he cleared his throat. "Alright, mom, hold this," he said as he handed his phone to me, then dove back under the sink and began twisting knobs. Finally the water shut off, and it was quiet again, save for the sound of dripping water. Naturally it was too late, the water had soaked into most of the carpet between the bathroom and bed.

Drew picked up the faucet handle and struggled to screw it back into the tap, eventually giving up. He came back out and moved to take his phone back before remembering I was in my underwear. I covered up and tentatively returned the device. Could this day get any worse?

"Mom, you're not sleeping in here," he decided.

I looked dubiously at my bed, the blanket darkened with water. "It's okay, I just need to change the sheets--"

He walked over and pulled the fitted sheet off, then pressed his hand into the mattress. The damn thing actually squished. I winced and looked at the floor miserably. "That's probably gonna take all night to dry," he sighed.

"Well..." I couldn't keep from sounding glum. "At least the couch is comfortable."

"Don't be ridiculous," he barked. "You're not sleeping on the freaking couch. Take my bed, I'll take the couch."

"No, Drew. I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. Especially not when the weather has started getting colder." I walked out to our linen closet and grabbed a few blankets. Drew followed me out and tried to take them from me.

"Oh, but you're okay spending the night in the living room?" he murmured, eyebrow arched. "You get cold easily, mom. You're gonna wake up with a fever."

"Then what do you suggest?" I thought for a moment, and realized the only viable solution. Not the best timing, with what happened earlier, but I wanted to focus on fixing the problem at hand. "We could share your bed."

Drew hesitated, his mind visibly stalling as he scrambled to argue against it. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" I had to be bold here if I wanted to keep him off the couch. Also had to act like I didn't find all this incredibly awkward as well. I leaned in, putting on a mischievous expression. "Don't tell me you're afraid of sleeping next to a woman."

He blushed furiously, and I smiled. Teenage boys were so easy to tease. When Drew blushed, the blood went not to his cheeks but to his ears, making it even harder to hide. "It's not the same, mom."

"Oh Drew. I know you're my baby, but grow up." I smiled and ruffled his messy hair. "We're both adults here. It's just for one night." He looked like he was about to argue, but the timer on the oven rang. "Could you get that please? I need to make myself decent." I took the blankets back from him and held them strategically over my sensitive regions, and he swallowed and went to the kitchen.

*Just one night, Coco. You can do it.*

Who was I kidding?

--

"This... I seriously think this isn't a good idea."

We were standing on opposite sides of Drew's bed, ready to go to sleep. I was in nothing but panties and an overly large t-shirt. Preoccupied with thoughts of how to act tonight, I had neglected to give a single thought to my attire until now. If I went to change, it would only draw attention to it. Just act natural. A surprising amount can be gotten away with if one just acted natural.

"C'mon, it'll be like when we slept together when you were younger. Our little 'sleepovers,' remember?" I beamed at him.

"Even that went on for too long," he muttered to himself, and my smile faltered. Those were memories I treasured. Was he ashamed of them? Seeing me crestfallen, he quickly backtracked. "I mean, I liked it. It was a lot of fun. Just not something you can tell your friends about, y'know?"

I nodded sympathetically, then pulled the blanket aside and sat down. "Well, come on. You're ready for bed, aren't you?"

He looked at me, then at the bed, and inhaled sharply before taking a step toward the living room. "Y'know what, I'm just gonna--"

"Young man, I swear, if you walk out that door--"

"Mom, seriously!"

"You listen to me." I wagged a finger at him, and he clamped his mouth shut. I couldn't believe what I was about to say to him, but I had to try. "I'm going to sleep where you sleep, understand? So if you insist on sleeping on the couch, I'll be right there with you." He sighed in resignation. "But if you want me spending the night in a bed..." I swept my finger back to the mattress, and he grudgingly turned off the lights and joined me. We lay down next to each other, supine and staring at the ceiling.

"Goodnight, baby," I murmured.

"Goodnight, mom," he replied.

We turned away from each other and went to sleep. Well, at least I think he did. I lay awake, pulling the blanket closer to my body. Sometimes it felt like the heat in the house flowed out in waves, leaving moments where the cold air kissed your skin long enough to give you an unpleasant chill.

All of a sudden, my mind was once again filled with images of the porn star role playing as an incestuous mother. A large phallus thrusting into her spread womanhood. The very picture of acts that hadn't crossed my mind in years. My body started heating up. What was happening to me? Had seeing the video triggered something in my memory, like nostalgia? There was nothing to be nostalgic about. Yet here I was... aroused. I felt hot, and when the chill in the room came, it felt all the colder. I shivered, and I could hear it in my breath.

Suddenly warm arms were wrapping around me. His chest against my back felt like a sun-kissed shelf of rock that I could bask on. He had always been tall, stretching vertically during puberty, but lean. A string bean, at least until recently. He had finally started to put on a bit of muscle, which helped him with being on the basketball team. Around... Around the time he had begun to change, actually. Curious. I would cast my mind back through the timeline in the morning.

His chest was pressed against me, but his legs were splayed away. If he was going to hold me while we slept, I rationalized that we could at least spoon. Nothing wrong with a bit of platonic cuddling. I pushed my rear back toward his groin, and discovered that it would not be platonic after all. So that's why he had held his lower half away from me.

The tip of his erect member was brushing up against my buttocks. Drew then pulled away before I could finish thinking about how I felt. Something else to ruminate on tomorrow. But the warmth he was sharing was enough to help me drift off to sleep.

I fell into a dream. I so rarely dreamed. And now I dreamed of walking down the aisle at a wedding. People say dreams are your brain sorting through memories, but this wasn't something I'd experienced before. I'd lamented it, but decided it was best to forget about wishing to live a day like that. Yet my groom awaited me at the altar. And when he turned and grinned at me, my heart filled with so much bliss that I wanted to flee yet also reach out and hold him so close that he was inside of me. He kissed me with all the love he had, and I sighed with joy.

He was so handsome, my groom. The literal man of my dreams, with messy blond hair, and gorgeous hazel eyes that looked so very much like mine.