Mary Andrews was feeling drowsy, but not quite ready for bed. She sat in her robe in front of the TV, sipping hot chocolate. She'd meant to watch an educational program on the History channel, but flipping through channels she'd become interested in a trashier program gossiping about celebrity lifestyles and sex lives. She watched this now, half-bored.
The phone rang and she reached over to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Hey Mom. It's me."
"Hi Greg. How are you? Nothing wrong I hope?"
"No, no, mom. But I need you to do something for me. Are you busy?"
"I was just..." she paused and looked at the TV, "...working in the kitchen."
"It'll only take a few minutes, I forgot a file I kinda need for work. Can you go on my computer and email it to me. It's -"
"Now, now, I'm not going to remember. Just gimmie a second and I'll go to your room and pick up the phone there, ok?"
Mary made her way to the second floor of the small house she shared with her son. Greg was in his last semester of high school and was already registered to begin college in the fall. He'd recently dropped his old fast-food job and now worked part-time evenings at a computer company.
Mary turned on her son's computer and picked up the phone in his room. He was giving her instructions but they were having trouble communicating.
"I've told you," Mary said, a little exasperated, "I don't see a folder called 'Work Stuff' anywhere."
"And you searched for the filename? You're sure you spelt it correctly..."
"Yes!"
"Hmmm..." Greg muttered. "I guess I don't absolutely have to have it...um...oh Shit! Of course!"
"Hmmm?"
"Oh...oh geez, sorry mom."
"Mmm?"
"Sorry about the swear. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
Mary gave a little titter of a laugh into the phone. "Well, alright, as long as you don't do it again."
"Yeah, it's just that I totally forgot something. Here's what you need to do..." Greg explained to his mother how to unlock the hidden and encrypted files on his computer using a password. She sent off the email, he confirmed he received it, and then she hung up the phone and let her son get back to work..
Mary was about to turn off the computer, but hesitated for a moment. What was there to go to except boring TV or a stack of books she didn't really want to read, or a bed where sleep lately was elusive. Didn't she see something interesting a moment ago?
She opened up the list of files again. Sure enough, there was the previously-hidden 'Work Stuff' folder they struggled so long to find. And beside it some other uninteresting hidden folders were now revealed, like 'School Reports' and 'Bank Files'. But Mary's curiosity was stoked by some others: 'Pr0n Flicks' and 'Pics of Slutz' and 'XXX Stories'.
'No,' she thought, 'they can't be. Well...well, maybe he's just got one or two things on here...I'm sure there's a lot of peer pressure to know a bit about that sort of thing...'
She opened up 'Pr0n Flicks'. The list of files was so long it scrolled down past the bottom of the screen; titles like 'Anal Trainer' and 'Ass Worship' and 'Buttman's Big Butt Backdoor Babes'. She double-clicked on a file and the starting credits began to play, a rapid-fire sequence of tits and ass and cocksucking and fucking and pussy eating and assfucking and double-penetration and cum splashing everywhere and and and...
She clicked it closed.
"Oh my fucking God," she muttered aloud when the image had disappeared from the screen.
She went to the 'Pics of Slutz' folder. As with the other folder, along with the main list of files there were subdirectories. The one right at the top was named 'AAAAA HOT SHIT - THE BEST - WHACKOFF SLIDESHOW'. Here she found explicit, hardcore digital images.
Mary had last peeked at a Playboy many years ago, but she could tell from what was on the screen now that what was available to men had changed. Her son Greg had pictures of women in leather, in rubber, in lace, in chains, and of course in nothing at all. Here were solo women, women with women, men with women, groups of men on one woman, and on and on and on, with every anal penetration or facial cumshot caught in explicit digital detail.
"I would have never of suspected," she said to herself, "I would have never have known." Then she gave a little smirk. "No wonder he likes computers so much."
Mary opened the 'XXX Stories' folder. Among the folders Greg made were 'Anal Fuckfests', 'She-Male Stories', 'Mind Control' and 'Incest is Best'.
Mary took a look at the program Greg was using to protect these files. She knew a little about computers herself, and saw fairly quickly that it was a pretty simple program, and one where Greg seemed to have just enabled the basic features.
She guessed that Greg would change the password after tonight, so she created a login for herself, using the username 'System', thinking that it would have a good chance of escaping scrutiny in Greg the unlikely event he took a second look.
By the time Greg got home from work, Mary was back in her bedroom. She'd gone through much of the rest of Greg's room, and found more things to pique her interest. In the corners of his closet and in the backs of drawers she'd found recordable CD's with suggestive labels, porn tapes and DVD's, and stacks of magazines.
As she listened to Greg move around in another part of the house, Mary was in her bedroom behind a closed door, kneeling over on her bed and flipping through a magazine, 'Euro Ass-Fuckers Vol.5 No.2', which she was sure he wouldn't miss from his large stack. One her hands was between her legs rubbing her pussy, and occasionally her fingers would reach farther, to rub the sensitive crinkle of her asshole, which would make her whole body shudder.
*****
Greg was sitting in the living room, reading, when his mother came home from work the next day. She was always very conservative, wearing perfect business attire; usually pantsuits that always left as little visible as possible of her neck, arms, and legs. Her hair was always tied up in a bun or back in a tight ponytail, and her shoes were always sensible. Not that this was foremost in Greg's mind when he saw her, but it was the way she had always dressed since he had remembered, even back before her and his dad had split up. And when she was around the house it would usually be thick baggy jogging suits, or large shapeless sweaters and straight-leg pants.
In Greg's mind the it was as though his mother were another species from the females he saw at school, on TV, or in the pornography he consumed, the ones so willing to flaunt themselves and their sexuality just to get attention.
"I'm just gonna take care of some things and then get dinner started, ok dear?" his mother asked. He grunted, and out of the corner of his eye saw her hauling some bags up to her room.
Some time later, Greg heard his Mom shuffle about in the kitchen. He didn't glance over for a while, but when he did he was shocked and couldn't break his stare.
He always thought his mother had a classical face; fine lines and delicate features, a little reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, or of Greek and Roman sculptures he'd seen in his high school textbooks and at the museum. She'd always worn big, practical glasses, her new pairs just like her old ones, but now for the first time Greg saw her wearing a sleek pair with tortoise-shell rims, that reminded him of cat's eyes. Her hair was sandy-brown, and at the top of her head it fell straight, but then began to curl at the level of her eyes. She wore it untied now, and it fell around her shoulders.
Her body, with exceptions, was slim; especially her crane-like neck, her delicate wrists, and her ankles where the contours of bone showed clearly. But nature had also designed her body so that her breasts were large and full, and were supported by strong shoulders, and her hips and ass were big and full as well, supported by thick muscular thighs.
Now, she wore a flimsy wool cardigan, rose pink, with a knit loose enough to clearly show the bra underneath, and a plunging open neck that showed off much of her shoulders and the cleavage of her upper chest. A cream-coloured skirt stopped just above her knees, but had a slit up the side where Greg could see the top of a smokey brown stocking. Her feet rested in shoes with a medium heel.
"Wow," Greg said as he walked into the kitchen, and then paused, searching for any other words. "Um...are we having company over or something?"
"No baby," Mary said, and turned to look at him with wide eyes. "I just thought it would be fun to dress up a bit for dinner."
Greg didn't remember his mom ever calling him 'baby' before. "Oh geez, I feel kinda out of it then." He looked down to his white socks, jeans, and rock-band T-shirt. "Do you want me to change?"
"No, you're...niiicce," his mother quickly brushed her lip with the tip of her tongue, and a sparkle in her eyes made something inside Greg jump. His mother turned away to continue her work, and Greg felt his cock involuntarily pulse and twitch against the fly of his jeans.
He felt confused, and tried to explain it away as one of the occasional hard-ons he got without much reason.
Dinner proceeded somewhat normally, though Greg's eyes would often wander to his mother's chest, trying to make out the details of her bra, and picture how her chest would look without the cardigan draped over it. He'd snap his head away when he became conscious of his thoughts, but then his eyes would also sometimes drift to look down through the glass table in the kitchen, looking down at his mother's legs and the way she held one sleek leg against the other, and something inside of him flamed up when his mother's stockinged legs would rub together as she subtly shifted position.
Greg didn't feel any better when he caught himself doing this. His mom didn't give any sign of noticing, but he did notice she seemed much more chipper than usual, and always smiled when she looked at him..
As was the usual routine - Greg washed the dishes after dinner. He was looking out the window at the backyard when hands reached under his arms and wrapped themselves around his chest.
"Yow! Hey mom, you scared me!" She pressed her entire body against him. Greg felt his mom's crotch against his butt, her big warm breasts pressed against his back. A rich, flowery scent reached drifted his nose.
"I just wanted to say thanks for washing the dishes." She gave him a long hard squeeze. "I'm so lucky to have such a good son." She placed a kiss on the back of his neck. Greg froze and stopped washing dishes. They were both quiet. A moment later she kissed his neck again, a little off to the side of the first kiss. Each one burned on Greg's neck like a gunshot.
Palm flat on his chest, one of her hands began to work its way down over his stomach. Greg's heart hammered as he realized his mom's hand, if it continued, would discover his pulsing cock. He slammed his hips against the counter, crouching down a little so the bulge of his crotch was hidden from view.
