** 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. **
*
"He asked me about a threesome the other day."
I almost spat out the mouthful of coke I had.
"What???!!??" I stared at her with incredulity. "You mean, you.... Him... and..."
"Him, me and his girlfriend." She replied, a cheeky grin on her face. She savoured the pleasure of seeing the shock on mine.
You see, the thing that troubled me wasn't the idea of her being asked to enter into a threesome. Nothing much surprises me about this woman anymore. In the past few years of intimate conversation, she'd revealed all manner of taboo fantasies and delinquent thoughts. What I couldn't believe was that she was relating a conversation she'd had with her 20 year old son!
"You're not serious??" I asked, searching her face for any signs she was taking the piss.
"Yeah, I'm serious. I'm telling you, my kids are open with me they can come to me with anything."
I watched as she took a swig of coke herself, nonchalant despite what she had just revealed. We'd been debating her poor parenting, or more specifically, my accusation of poor parenting. In defence, she was trying to explain how she was, in fact, a good parent and how her kids didn't see her like their mother but more as a friend. She'd claimed her kids could and did talk to her about anything. Somehow, she didn't seem to notice that being asked into a threesome with your son isn't exactly the best evidence of good parenting.
This was one of the reasons I was crazy about this woman. She was a complex ball of inconsistencies, honesty and lies rolled up into a fiery ball of passion and mental instability. She wasn't mad, at least not in the clinical sense, but she had enough strange views on things to make one question whether she should be sectioned.
It helped that she was fantastically beautiful, with a gorgeous slim and petite Indian figure. She had long, brown hair, straightened and bleached, that reached all the way down to her small tight ass. She had small unassuming boobs that, due to their diminutive size maintained their pertness despite her age. Her hips were wide and the only outward hint that this youthful woman, who so often passed for someone in their 20s, was in fact a mother of 3 and had lived and seen a lot more of life than one would first assume.
She attracted attention wherever she went, mostly because she herself would insist on being the centre of activity. She'd always dress provocatively, without being slutty, and for that reason there was no end of guys giving her their number -- nor women accusing her of seducing their husbands.
I knew better though. Yes, she was flirty. But she couldn't help it. She just loved getting attention from guys and even though she appeared interested, she just loved being chased. She would never take it any further. In her entire live she'd only ever been physical with 3 men -- her husband, her first boyfriend and one other dumb fling. She regretted all three relationships. But that didn't stop the chatter and rumour and judgemental looks she received. I felt bad for her that people accused her of things she simply wasn't guilty of. Unfortunately, she revelled in the controversy so did nothing to help her own cause.
Despite her exuberance and charm, she was a sad and lonely person, suffering from bouts of debilitating depression. I knew it was all a façade when she spoke to people. The smiles, the winks, the seductive walk, the delight-filled giggles and the light playful touches were all played by the person she wanted people to see not the person she was.
The truth is she was a confused individual, desperately fearful of losing her looks as she grew older, regretful of her absence in her children's lives, tormented by memories of years of abuse form her ex-husband, and tired of society's judgemental nature. She wanted to be free, in a world filled with rules and responsibilities.
Like most free spirits, she was trapped by society's norms and boundaries, and that contention expressed itself in all sorts of strange and provocative ways. From toying with the idea of making online porn (there's a hot market for Indian girls after all) to being declared bankrupt and having to change her name by deed poll.
Sona, or Sameeha or even Jena (after she'd had to change her name), was a very confusing and addictive person. Though it may sound like we had a physical relationship, we didn't. She enjoyed my company because I didn't judge her. I enjoyed her company because I had a crush on her. In a way, our own relationship was as dysfunctional as all of the other relationships in her life. In a way, our relationship was simply a continuation on her life -- one long failure.
And it's in this context that her most recent revelation shocked me. I looked at her, bemused that she would cite a conversation about a threesome between her, her son, and his girlfriend as some kind of example of how her kids could come to her with anything, hence vindicating her poor excuse for parenting. The issue of incest didn't even seem to register on her moral radar.
"Woah, woah, slow down. Your son, Mobeen?? He asked about a threesome??"
"Yeah, I know. I couldn't believe it when he asked me. But it shows doesn't it. If we didn't have that kind of trusting relationship then he wouldn't even feel that he could bring it up." She smiled, seemingly satisfied with her bullet-proof reasoning.
"Errm, maybe he SHOULDN'T feel that he can talk about these things. I mean, you're his mother." I replied, slowly, trying to emphasise my point.
"Well, who else would he go to? Isn't it better that I, as his mother, know the kinds of things that he's getting up to?"
"I think you're missing the point a little." I said, shaking my head. Part of me just wanted to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of her reasoning. "I'm not really talking about him coming to you for relationship advice, or even him talking about threesomes. I'm talking about him asking YOU to join in. Didn't that ring alarm bells in your head?"
"Oh that..." She giggled playfully "That's nothing."
She set her coke down on the table. "Anyway, I know Mobeen, it's not his idea. I reckon he's girlfriend came up with it. She's a bit kinky."
"I gotta say, I'm really surprised you're not more shocked."
"Come on, you know me. Nothing shocks me anymore. I've seen too many things on the internet to get shocked at anything."
"But still, we're talking about... well we're talking about incest here."
"Well we didn't actually do anything." She exclaimed, a confused expression on her face. She seemed surprised that I was making a big deal about it.
"Well, aside from the fact that it would be too shocking, even for you, to have done something like that, still, I'm surprised the conversation even took place." I took another sip of coke. She hadn't actually done many shocking things in her life, though she liked the idea that she had. She liked to think of herself as a bit wild and edgy. Probably because it was so far removed from the reality of her sad depressive life, wasted on online chat, facebook and porn.
"Anyway, like I said, I'm sure it was his girlfriend, Karen's idea. Mobeen told me she thought I was hot." She grinned at me cheekily.
"Really?" I looked at her with interested, wanting to know more of the saucy details she so clearly wanted to delve into.
"Yeah, she stayed with us a few days during the Easter break. Mobeen came home from uni for the holidays and she came with him. We went out clubbing a couple of times; I could tell she was hot for me. I get that a lot from other women, what is it about me?"
"How could she not, you're fit, even women throw themselves at you." I replied, an automatic response that I'd long since discovered was what she wanted to hear.
Despite my apparent ambivalence, I was actually intrigued by this saucy tale of her son's girlfriend having the hots for her. I was well aware that I would get a heavily edited version of events that made her out to be an irresistible seductress. It was the way with her anecdotes.
"Oh, shut up." She giggled, waving her hand to dismiss the obviously fake compliment. She knew that I was only playing along with her emotional insecurities, telling her what she wanted to hear. Sometimes, even lies can be reassuring.
"So did anything happen?"
"We danced a couple of times, you know, close dancing. I think she was doing it to tease Mobeen."
"Mobeen didn't get involved then?"
"He danced with Karen. They danced together, of course."
"I mean between you and Mobeen. Didn't you guys dance?"
"Yeah, course we did. But not like that. Not like the way I danced with Karen."
"Wow, how exactly did you dance with Karen? It sounds raunchy."
She grinned at me, relishing in spinning this sexy yarn.
"Well, you know... when two women dance to get men's attention. Close dancing."
