Tuesday morning.
Kim Hayles hit the snooze button on her alarm clock, rolled back over, hugging her pillow to her body. She'd been smiling when the alarm went off. The smile faded slowly; the nagging reality hovered at the back of her mind, its morally correct message taunting her from somewhere within her subconscious. She couldn't quite reach out and grasp the thought, but it was there, like a creak of a floorboard, an echoing footstep...
She took a deep breath, willing herself to get up, not quite wanting to. Just before she woke, she'd been dreaming of being in her lovers' arms, braced in his passionate clutch. His solid hands roaming over her body, long, strong fingers touching all of her sensitive spots. As she lay there at the edge of sleep, she could almost feel it, a little warm fuzzy feeling.
She had been in her bed, in the dream, her head back on a pillow, sharing an orgasm with her lover. She'd dreamed that she had looked up at him as the orgasm hit, his eyes holding her own, his awareness of her the sexiest part of her dream...
Passionate love, she thought, smiling to herself. She drifted back to sleep, just for five minutes, dreaming of the lover with the strong hands. A young lover and his caress, a little bit warm, getting hotter...
The alarm went off again. Kim's eyes flew open and she sat up. Panic ripped through her as she blinked into the darkness. The digital alarm clock glowed the time in a steady bright red, the numbers reading four-forty-five in the morning.
"Oh, Lord," she whispered. She let out a long sigh. No rest for the wicked.
Young lover? Her dream suddenly played itself out again in her mind. She shook her head, frowned, threw the blankets back with a sense that such a wonderful dream shouldn't be so wrong.
The young lover she'd been dreaming of was her own son, Randy.
She looked down at her still sleeping husband, then looked away.
You're fantasizing about your son, she reminded herself, trying to shut her mind to those dangerous thoughts. What kind of mother was she? Dreaming such lurid, unspeakable dreams about her own child. Only a dream, just another damn dream, she told herself as she clicked on the bedside lamp and nudged her husband. "Bill. Get up honey. You don't want to miss your flight."
She got out of bed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. She slid the basket out, placed a filter in it, filled it with coffee, replaced it, poured a full pot of water into the reservoir, and then punched the on button.
Within seconds the machine began to gurgle. The fresh smell of coffee soon filled the room.
**************
Kim sat by the big bay window in the breakfast nook drinking her coffee. He husband had just left for the airport; he'd be gone four nights this time.
The early morning sun was bathing the woods beyond the Hayles backyard with its brilliant autumn light, but it was lost on her. She was deep in thought. Her dream had deeply affected her, she felt like a love struck teen-ager.
She replayed the dream through her mind and was rewarded with a new wave of guilt.
"Morning Mom." Her reverie was broken.
"Morning, honey."
Randy came into the kitchen without a shirt, wearing just a pair of lounge pants. Her first impulse was to go to him and throw herself into his strong arms, but she caught herself short, pushed the thought aside. As he poured a cup of coffee, his back to her, she let her eyes work their way down from his broad, muscular shoulders to his narrow waist, and finally to his tight ass. She took a slow breath as she bit down softly on her bottom lip, tossing her lustrous hair over one shoulder. She had never looked upon a man before with such erotic, naughty thoughts streaming through her head.
Her blood pressure began a rapid elevation.
Kim despised herself for it, annoyed that her pulse had skyrocketed, but she could feel the pleasure of his presence unwinding in her chest.
Her face flushed, her pulse pounded in her ears, blood heated white-hot by a forbidden, incestuous need, fermented by denial, raced through her veins.
From the moment he'd first raked over her near naked body with a lust-filled look in his eyes, Kim had been consumed by an almost undeniable hunger for her son.
She couldn't think of anything else.
Oh my God! I've got a crush on my son! I'm absolutely horrible...
Her thoughts were interrupted again when her daughter entered the room. "Morning Mom. Morning butt-head."
"Morning Deb," Kim replied.
"Morning hag," Randy shot back.
"Be nice you two," Kim scolded.
Debbie was still in her pj's; a slippery low-cut silk pullover and loose fitting silk shorts. She grabbed a bowl, cereal and milk and sat at the table across from her brother. She leaned forward while eating her breakfast, giving her twin brother a nice view down the front of her top, showing off her soft cleavage. Kim didn't notice the show, but Randy did, sneaking occasional glances at his sister's tits.
Debbie watched her brother's eyes, satisfied with her effect. "Why does Randy get to come to the table without a shirt on? What if I showed up for breakfast without a shirt?" There was a pinprick of amusement in her eyes. She knew the effect she had on men, even her own brother.
"Be my guest," he said, steadfastly holding her eyes, she looked back into his teasing eyes, his seductive eyes with their tiny gray striations in the blue irises.
"Both of you, knock it off," Kim said, rolling her eyes. "Randy, from now on, wear a shirt to the table." There was a pause before Kim changed the subject. "Deb, we have that meeting with Mr. Dunbar this afternoon."
"Do we have to?"
"Yes, we have to. I want to know why your grades have fallen off this year," Kim answered.
"Mom, the year has just started," Debbie retorted, exasperated. "I would hardly worry about my grades falling off this early in the year."
"I'm your mother. It's my job to worry. We're going to that meeting."
"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes.
Kim let it go. "Randy, you'll probably get home from football practice before us. Would you order pizza for dinner? I'm going to leave some money next to the phone."
"Sure thing," he replied, as he stood, took his breakfast dishes to the sink. "I'm gonna go get ready."
As he left the room, Kim unconsciously watched him leaving, admiring her son's physical attributes, unaware of Debbie's curious gaze.
She snapped out of it when Debbie too stood up and left the room to get ready for school.
As Debbie left the room, she was wondering to herself what that was all about. Why had her mother been looking at her brother that way. The way a woman looks at a man when she hungers for him.
Interesting.
**************
Randy re-entered the kitchen as Debbie was headed out the door. Jesus, he looked good, hair still damp from his shower, faded blue jeans, a leather jacket over a form fitting t-shirt. Kim's breathing seemed to stop when he approached her.
"See you tonight," he said as he kissed the smooth skin just beneath her high cheekbone and then headed out the door, following his sister, yelling, "I get to drive!"
**************
Randy spotted Stacy waiting for him next to his locker. She stood there, smiling at him, her text books clutched tightly against her perky breasts. She was wearing a short sleeve ivory cashmere sweater, designer jeans, and slip on loafers. She looked good, and he felt a flood of guilt because he'd cheated on her with Mrs. Dean not even twenty-four hours earlier.
"Hey babe," he said.
"Hi," she said, tilting her head to the side, throwing her hair back, and offering her lips to him.
"Not in school," they heard a booming voice say. Principal Tanner was in his late forties, fleshy, pink-cheeked, unconsciously rumpled, and cheerful with the smile of an encyclopedia salesman.
"Sorry Mr. Tanner," Randy said.
"We have to follow the rules, Mr. Hayles," the likable principal said with a chuckle. "So, are we going to win Homecoming this year?"
"Yes sir. Eastwood has never won on our field, and that isn't going to change this year," Randy confidently proclaimed.
"Great! That's what I wanted to hear. Go Tigers!"
"Go Tigers!" several students repeated.
"You two lovebirds had better get moving along to class now," Tanner told Stacy and Randy.
**************
Mindy Dean was in the school office talking with her best friend, Maggie Hubbard in hushed voices. Anytime somebody came close enough to hear their conversation, they quickly changed the subject to something mundane until it was safe to resume the more dangerous topic they were really discussing.
"I'm telling you, Maggie," Mindy whispered. "That boy's cock is amazing. It felt absolutely divine. I've never been so full of cock before in my life!"
Maggie grabbed her arm. "You're full of shit." But interest was evident in her features, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Don't look so shocked. You know me. You know how horny I always am, how much I like to fuck," she lowered her voice even more.
Both women giggled. "I can't believe you did that," Maggie said, envy in her eyes.
"I couldn't help myself. Have you seen him? I mean, really looked at him? He's just about the sexiest man I've ever seen," Mindy continued in a conspiratorial tone.
"I've noticed. He comes in here every day after lunch to use Coach Thompson's office for a study hall. I get a fuzzy feeling every time I see him," the secretary admitted.
"You should try his cock out," Mindy suddenly said.
"I couldn't do that," she said at once.
"Why?" Mindy grinned wickedly.
"You know why," Maggie said.
"No I don't. Enlighten me."
"For starters...he's a little young. Second...I'm married. And most importantly...I could lose my job, or worse!"
