Janet removed a thin layer of dust from the top of her son's dresser with a flick of her wrist. Her feather duster deftly traced around a high school track trophy and a stack of college application papers, the latter long since copied, mailed off and returned.
Evan was gifted with intelligence in addition to athleticism and while his mother was brimming with pride at his acceptance of an offer from a prestigious university complete with a scholarship, her heart ached throughout his departure. He had only been gone for a few months but to Janet, he might as well have backed his car out of the driveway and drove through the horizon yesterday.
As she finished up the countertop and gave a quick once-over along the sides, her eyes came to linger on the final decoration: a picture of the both of them after one of Evan's track meets just after his 18
th
birthday. He was the picture of health and male virility, at least as any young man that age could be. His lean and toned body, still bearing a sheen from the event's grueling workout, was visible outside of the limits of his uniform. Janet herself couldn't have been prouder of her boy; she wore a smile from ear to ear and her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders. She was confident that whatever team he happened to find himself playing on at school would find a competent player in him.
Life was difficult for them both since his father left four years ago. Actually, it would be more correct to say after Janet
kicked
Tom out at the discovery of his affair with one of his coworkers. She knew the task of raising Evan would fall on her shoulders alone as a result, but she refused to stand for that kind of behavior from her former husband and gladly accepted her resulting task.
Luckily for her, Evan proved to be much more manageable than the average hell-raiser teenage boys become for a while. He was respectful, considerate of others, and balanced his studies and sports obligations surprisingly well on top of his physical attractiveness. As far as Janet was concerned, he was twice the man his father was. She was confident that he would make a woman very, very happy someday.
Despite her misgivings towards Tom, Janet was a lonely woman these days. She hadn't dated since the divorce, not out of any respect for the man's legacy but mainly for Evan's sake. She was wary of bringing a potential father figure around him and she didn't need a relationship keeping her from her duties as his mother. While she remained confident in her decision, her and Tom had enjoyed a healthy sex life until the split, and her pussy ached whenever she looked back on those times. Janet's healthy collection of dildos and other toys bridged the gap slightly, but as every woman knew, there was no substitute for a warm, thick cock between her legs.
So why do I feel this way whenever I look at pictures of my son?
Evan resembled his father strongly, Janet admitted. They shared the same light brown hair and raised cheekbones, and to her delight Tom managed to pass down his sense of humor. She hadn't seen many pictures of him when he was his son's age, but she would be willing to bet they looked far more alike than not.
Content with this rationalization, Janet's loins began to dampen. Oh, how she missed a man in the home. Every day she would lay on her bed and pull out one of her toys from her underwear drawer, but even with her substantial amount, the sessions tended to get a bit repetitive. She'd change it up on occasion to alleviate the boredom, such as switching from her toys to a showerhead to a hairbrush and back again. In one particularly daring incident she explored an alternative use for her car's manual gear shift.
Despite her induced variety, as noted before, it couldn't replace Tom. She missed him. She missed his clothes thrown next to the bed when he would hop in with her. She missed his girthy member waiting for her. She missed his scent whenever he would remove his shirt and pants.
It was not entirely unlike the smells she encountered when she would come into Evan's room when he lived at home. To her bewilderment and shock, this only made her wetter.
God's sake, he's my SON! I shouldn't...no, I CAN'T think of him that way!
Janet tried to push the thought out of her mind. Tom was the man she missed and hungered for, not her boy, despite the strong resemblance between the two.
Yet while Tom had proved himself to be a poor husband by betraying her trust and her love, Evan had exhibited none of those traits. While it's true he did break up with his girlfriend before he went off to college, it was because he was smart enough to realize when a good thing had reached its end. They left on mutual terms, at least from Janet's perspective. Janet liked Kat. She was a cute young thing, 18 as well, sharing mutual interests with her boyfriend and on more than one occasion, Janet had provided a safe, controlled space for the two of them to explore their passion and bodies together.
Lucky girl.
But why was Kat so lucky? Because she had found a good man in Evan to judge successive boyfriends against, or because she got to experience what he was like in bed?
Janet didn't particularly want to dwell on the subject, but it had come time to explore and get a hold of her feelings. Mothers shouldn't be aroused by anything concerning their offspring, regardless of how closely they resembled their fathers. In fact, she was pretty sure biologically it couldn't even happen-she read something about it in a magazine a while ago.
But yet I still feel these things.
She couldn't ignore the increasing wetness between her thighs and the flushing of her face. It wasn't exactly the first time Janet had felt similar stirrings when thinking about Evan in some ways, but they had never reached this level of intensity or pointedness before. In fact, even thinking about his used jerseys piled up in a corner, drenched with his sweat and odor got her tingling. She couldn't deny it anymore; her attraction to her son wasn't simply a function of remnant longings for Tom. It also didn't help that Janet had a thing for college-aged guys, ever since she started becoming "too old for them" by society's standards.
God, I'm an awful mother.
A wave of disgust passed over her as she settled on the realization.
