** This is a work of fiction. It contains absolutely no truth -- even the bits that sound plausible. The characters in this story are not based on any real persons, nor is the story based on any real events. It's a story people, enjoy it for it is. **
** This story is about incest between a mother and her son -- both of whom are adults. If you don't like this subject matter, move along. **
** This story is a continuation, of sorts, of the 'Morally Ambivalent Mother' series. You're better off reading them as a back story. Or you can just read this and ignore all that. Up to you. Have fun!**
*
The phone rang and rang and for a moment it seemed like there'd be no answer. Annoyingly, when he did finally pick up FJM claimed he was busy - till I mentioned 'Mobeen', that is. Suddenly he was perky and right away he was breathlessly promising he'd call me back -- saying that he had something to sort out quickly and he'd call me back soon. That was just like him -- bored and disengaged unless the topic was about sex. The pervert would drop anything to get in on the action.
True to his word, moments later he called me back.
"Right, so Mr Loverman is coming home, is he?" FJM asked. Even through the background noise of the mobile networks, I sensed he's sarcastic grin.
"Look, I can do without your jokes, ok. Yes, Mobeen is coming. And I'm freaking out!" I replied.
"What're you getting stressed about? He's coming home for mid-terms right? Surely you've known this for some time?"
"Course I've KNOWN he's coming home -- he comes home for EVERY holiday. But this time it's different."
"Different? how?"
"Look, please, don't play stupid. I'm panicking here. I can do without your dumb jokes for now. You KNOW how it's different." I was beginning to get frustrated with FJM.
"Ok, ok. Look, I really don't understand what you're stressing about. So he's coming on holidays, what's the problem? Just do what you guys always do. Chat. Catch up. Argue. Then he leaves again in a great big huff."
"You think I can pretend to be normal around him? After everything I've told you?"
"I don't get how that makes a difference. That's just fantasy. You know the difference between fantasy and reality?"
"It's not that easy. Obviously I understand that but it's just not that easy. What if... what if I say something stupid. Or... or what if I DO something stupid?" "Like what, exactly?"
I couldn't blame FJM for being confused -- I was having a hard time myself forming cogent thoughts from the confusing mush in my head.
"I don't know. Maybe I'm just a little anxious about the whole thing." I replied.
"Chill out, woman. If you're stressed then you probably WILL say or do something stupid. Come on, think about it. It's not like you're gonna fall over onto his cock are you?" FJM chortled.
"That's not funny."
"Look, you know what I mean. Just stop panicking. It'll all be alright. In a weeks time he'll have gone back to Uni and nothing will have changed. You'll still be the mummy and he'll still be your son. And you'll still have that dysfunctional rollercoaster of a relationship you've always had -- adoring each other one minute and hating each other the next."
"But....What if I don't want to continue living like that?"
"I don't get you."
"What if I want things to be different? I don't want to fight him anymore. I hate it when we argue."
There was a long pause on the line before I began to wonder whether FJM was still there. It was when he coughed to clear his throat did I realise the line was still open.
"I think...." He replied. "...this is about a bit more than having fewer arguments with Mobeen. I think there's more to it than that. I think you want more and I think you know what I mean by that, too."
"Probably." I replied sorrowfully.
"You know, I won't judge you for the choices you've made. I know you love your son. I know you love him in a way most women would consider unthinkable. But I also know there's nothing you would ever do to hurt him. I think you should consider your own feelings as well. I think what you want with Mobeen, as in all the thoughts and feelings you've experienced, I think they're just an expression of your love for him. And I think that's ok. I think for you to feel that way is ok. As long as no one's being hurt, it's fine. You're both adults."
"I don't know.... Like you say, there's a difference between fantasy and reality. In my fantasy it's all passion and love and sex but in reality... well, like you say, reality's always different."
"Perhaps. But everything you've told me so far makes me think you're naughty little fantasies don't have to be that far from the reality. I think the two things are separated from one another by just one accidental touch, or one cheeky glance or one drunken night of irresponsibility. That's all there is separating you two. If you can just get past that, you really can have a different relationship. A VERY different relationship with your son. The question is, is that what you want? Or do you want to keep your fantasies as they are?"
"I don't know. I really don't know. This is all so confusing."
"I tell you what. Let's keep it simple. Forget about the BIG questions. For now, just welcome Mobeen back home with a little treat. See where it goes from there."
"How do you mean?"
"You know. Get a little dressed up. Normally you make no effort for him. Why not dress up a little, make yourself presentable. Give him something nice to look at when he gets back."
It sounded like a great idea from FJM.
"Yeah, I can do that. You mean like put on a little make up, wear something pretty. That sort of thing?"
"Yeah. But put a bit of effort into it. Go and get your hair done. And a facial. You know, the usual beauty treatments you women do. And dress up in something that'll really impress him. Something to make his eyes pop out and say -- WOW -- when he sees you. Something to make him think of you as something other than just 'Mum'. Get him to realise you're a woman too. A sensual, sexual being. Let him see a new side to you, a different side to you. One that surprises him. Maybe even excites and titillates a little."
I chuckled at the idea. Getting dressed up always sounds fun but I wasn't quite sure what FJM meant about exciting and titillating my son.
"Yeah that sounds good, actually. I bought some nice outfits the other day. I could wear one of those. Get scrubbed up. I think he'll like that."
"Don't just wear something because it looks 'nice'. You want to aim for more that just 'NICE'"
"You mean, like, something proper dressy? Like 'going out' clothes?"
"Erm, sort of. You want to be dressed to impress. So that means SEXY. You know, low cut tops, skirts, heels."
"What, dressed like a slut you mean?" I replied derisively.
"No, not like a slut. Sexy. SEXY. You know what I mean, you know more about women's clothes. Use your imagination."
I thought for a moment just what FJM could mean by 'dressing sexy', bearing in mind we were talking about getting dressed up and presenting myself to my own son and the obvious boundaries that exist.
"I guess...I could wear a skirt. I don't think he's seen me in skirts much -- or at least I don't really wear skirts around him." I replied, wondering if I was thinking along the same lines as FJM.
"Yeah.. a skirt. But make it a short skirt though yeah. Lots of leg."
"Well, yeah. A short skirt but within reason, y'know."
"Yeah,. yeah. Of course. And a top. Maybe something off the shoulders?"
"I was thinking something low cut. I mean not too low cut but something that shows off a bit more skin?"
"You could but I think something off the shoulder looks more sexy. They look like they could fall off any minute, you know? That's more sexy I think. Like you could get a nipple slip any moment."
"You're such a strange person FJM" I chortled. "But I think I know what you mean. I have this gold coloured woollen top. It's off the shoulders and it actually does feel like it could fall off any minute -- that's partly why I never wear it."
"Well now's your chance to wear it."
"Problem is bra straps show on that one which spoils the effect a little."
"Well don't wear a bra then."
"Are you serious?" I baulked at the audaciousness of his idea.
"Why not?"
"Why not?!? Well firstly because it's uncomfortable to go without any support and secondly, if the top DOES slip a little the most my son will see is perhaps some frilly underwear rather than his mother's boobs!"
"OK, OK. It's up to you. But like you say, the straps spoil the effect. And I think going braless looks much more sexy. A guy can tell when a woman's not wearing a bra and trust me, it's sexy when you realise it. Especially when she's dressed real hot. Knowing that he boobs aren't confined away is really hot, it would blow Mobeen's mind when he realises."
"Really? You think so?" I had to admit, my interest had been piqued a little.
"Of course he will. He wont be able to take he's eyes off your chest. Especially if you little nipples decide to get a little excited and show through the fabric. He'll be adjusting he's erection all afternoon!"
"Oh my God, you're unbelievable!" I chuckled. "You really think that would happen?"
"Trust me. Wear that top. Go braless. And give your baby boy a little performance this afternoon. A little wiggle here, a little jiggle there. He's gonna love watching mummy's boobies bounce and wobble all over the place!"
"You are something else!!" I baulked even as I found myself slowly succumbing to this twisted idea.
"And who knows, maybe if he's lucky, mummy's top might creep down a little. By accident or on purpose. Who knows?"
"I don't think so, sweet heart. If Mobeen's seeing my boobs today it'll be by accident. There's no way I'd have the guts to do it on purpose!"
