After that day, that fateful day when a Son had knelt in front of his Mother's beauty, everything was different.
To the outside observer, they were a normal Mother and Son. One would go to work, the other to college. They would return home and the curtains would close. However inside a fundamental change had taken place.
Mother wore nylons all the time now, even at the weekends. Her Son would wake to her busying herself over the kitchen or living room, hair immaculate, make-up exquisite, stockings in place, high heels on, to her Son the perfect domestic goddess, in fact the perfect goddess in every way.
Not that he had it easy. His chores were numerous, he now did more than half of the house work. His dress had changed too. The blue pants that Mother had used to so characterise his transformation were now well worn in. He loved the way his erect cock bulged in them. Sometimes Mother would ask him to go completely naked. He obeyed. He knew he was making her happy and enjoyed it. In the meantime his cock stood proud and full, while his sexy, gorgeous Mum sashayed around the house, every floor her personal catwalk. Every night he went to bed bursting with cum, balls aching and every night he sprayed his seed all over his sheets, while in the other room his Mother gasped and cried out as her own orgasm tore through her. They had found a new way to live, an exciting, tense and extraordinary arrangement.
Mother for her part had had her dreams increase numerously. She dreamed of being gang-fucked by her Son and his clones. She commanded them and took their seed, becoming pregnant to carry her new generation of servants. In the meantime she loved the change in herself, the change in her Son. His grades had improved, there was every chance he would go to a better university. It made her happy to seem him do well, but also to see him perform for her... There still existed the physical barrier and in every way her guilt still ran deep. She longed to touch that young body, fulfill the dreams to their extent, but she knew that the future she imagined she would have little control over. Better this way, feed her fetish, let her Son idolise her and be out of reach to him and yet... This was the conflict that raged inside this sexually potent woman.
The deciding moment came quite suddenly and yet seemed natural. One night, Son was laying on the floor of his bedroom, wearing nothing but his boy pants. He was doing his homework, working out some very difficult maths problems. Mother was sat at her dresser legs crossed, black stockings matched with a pink satin robe. On her feet were pink, peep-hole toe stilettos. Every now and then she caught her son spying on her legs and she recrossed them for him, letting the nylon slide with a satisfying scratch across her thigh. His curiosity was piqued by his utterly feminine Mother, as slowly as he could he rubbed his bulge across the bedroom floor as he faked concentration on the maths.
The mischievous side of Mother took over and she slowly turned on her chair and planted a stilettoed foot on her Son's backside.
"Hey!" he exclaimed and turned his head towards her, grinning.
The Mother kept on, toeing and sticking her heels into his bottom. She giggled as he writhed on the floor and then took delight in sticking her toe between his open legs. As the Mother nudged the soft covered flesh of her Son's balls he gasped and tried to giggle. His cock began to ache as he felt the shoe between his nethers. The Son decided to take a gamble and flipped his whole body over so he lay on his back. Mother laughed with surprise and renewed her assault. Resting one stiletto on her Son's belly, she pressed with the other foot on to his erect cock, spongy but thick in the blue material. Mother began to work the restrained prick with her foot. Her Son's chuckling had been replaced with a groaning and telling his Mother 'yes'. Mother shuffled her feet over his cock, toed his balls, gave him little kicks and cooed and teased at him as if he was a child.
It was all too much for the 19 year old with a raging need and aching loins. Mother felt the cock pulse, jump and slowly a dark pool spread over the blue cotton. She looked at her Son's face, teeth gritted, eyes wide and she bit her lip. His cock jerked out of the top of his pants and the sticky, white cum crept over his tummy, splashing onto her pink stiletto.
She had made him cum... The Mother, the bad, wicked Mother with such thoughts in her head had actually, physically made her Son cum! Her stomach twisted, a thousand possibilities rushed in front of her. A broken home, her Son leaving... Yet he made no effort to move, instead he stared at her. Did he fear her retaliation? No it had been an accident, but yet, if she could take control...
"Oh look at the mess you've made!" Mother told him. "Pull those up and go to the bathroom!" Her Son paused a second as his Mother lifted her feet and he scrambled up. Mouth open, he turned to look at her. "Go and run a bath. And... wait, wait for me." The Son thought about it and then went, he was still disorientated after his cum.