I awoke the next morning, in mum's bed, with a banging hangover. I was alone. I looked at the clock on the wall and it said it was just after 11am. As I sat up I started to wrap my mind around the previous night. I'd come home from university, mum looked incredible, we were drinking together in the hot tub, we'd had sex...
I said it over and over in my head, that I'd had sex with my own mother. I watched as she swallowed my cum, she took my cock, I licked at her pussy. After the hot tub we'd come up to bed, drank some more and carried on having sex. My headache was bad enough without trying to sort this in my head.
What was confusing me was that it had happened so suddenly. One minute we were drinking together and then the next her hand was down my shorts and we were kissing. It just didn't make sense to me. Part of me had clearly wanted it to happen, as thinking back to it I could feel my cock starting to stir.
I got out of the bed quietly, trying to work out if mum was still in the house or not. I peeked out of the bedroom window and saw her car was gone. Good, she was out. I went straight for the bathroom and got into the shower. I stood for a good 10 minutes just letting the warm water wash over me. I'd found in the last year of being a student that there's nothing better for a hangover than a long, hot shower. I tried again to work out what had happened in my head, but it just made the headache worse so I finished my shower, dried myself off, threw on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and wandered downstairs on the hunt for some painkillers and coffee.
I walked into the kitchen and on the counter, next to the kettle was a note with my name on it. I opened it up, half dreading what it would say.
"Alex - Last night was amazing. Thank you so much. Please stay around the house today as we should really talk about what happened. I'll be back around lunchtime. Love, Mum xxx"
Well, fuck. At least I had the potential to get some answers as to what happened. I figured I had a couple of hours until mum got home so I made a coffee and swallowed some painkillers. While standing in the back garden having a cigarette, I looked over to the hot tub, where all the action had started off last night. Mum's bikini was still strewn by the side of the tub, as were the two wine glasses we were sat, empty.
The sun was starting to beat down and even though I was only wearing the tracksuit trousers, the heat started to get a bit much for my hungover body, so I came back inside to finish my coffee just as the postman came and knocked at the door.
"Parcel to sign for," he said, thrusting a little PDA into my hand, "for Ms Roxx..."
"Who?" I enquired.
"Emilia Roxx," the postie said with some unwarranted hostility, "Look, are you going to sign or what?"
"Well there's no one here of that name," I countered, "My mum's name is Emilia Jones."
"Look, kid. I've been delivering parcels for Emilia Roxx to this address for months, just sign the fucking box so I can get on with my work."
Surprised at the tone of the postman, I scribbled in the box on his PDA and took the parcel from him as well as a hefty pile of mail. Placing the box on the kitchen table I looked through the letters. Half of them were plain white envelopes addressed to Ms. Roxx, a few others were bills addressed to Mrs Jones and a couple were addressed to me.
Something didn't sit right for me. Why was mum getting post delivered to her in a different name. She'd never changed her name from Jones after dad had left and her maiden name was Christer, so only God knows that this Roxx business was about.
I grabbed my coffee and sat on the sofa to watch some TV. As I flicked through the channels I noticed some opened mail on the shelf underneath the coffee table. I don't know why, but curiosity overcame me and I grabbed the little pile. It was all addressed to Emilia Roxx. As I flicked through the letters, they were all cheques, made to Ms Roxx for a lot of money. Β£5000, Β£3000, one was as high as Β£12,500. I looked at the letters themselves, which were invoices marked as "Paid in full for service rendered" from places like "Paul Allen Productions", "Sight To Behold" and "Skin Talent Agency". None of this was adding up. My headache had gone, but my head was as confused as ever.
Before I could reach over to my laptop to start looking for these businesses, I head mum's car pull up. If we really were going to talk I guess I could ask about what this Emilia Roxx alias was all about.
Mum walked into the house and called my name, I yelled back that I was in the living room. She walked in looking absolutely stunning. She was wearing skin tight yoga pants, so tight I could trace the edge of her thong through them, a low cut red blouse and knee high, leather high heeled boots. I instantly felt a reaction in my cock, though I was sitting in such a position that I was hoping she couldn't tell it.
"Morning sweetie," she chimed, "how are you feeling today?"
"A bit hungover and a lot confused," I replied. She looked at me with a sliver of sorrow in her eyes. I wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want to talk or if it's because she didn't like that I was confused.
"I understand, sweetie," she said as she sat next to me and crossed her legs. God, her legs looked so good in those yoga pants, "I take it you saw my note?"
I nodded. She sighed and turned to face me directly.
"Look, I'm sorry about what happened. I don't know why it happened, just when we were in the tub for the first time in a long time I felt like I could be open with someone and I think the wine helped to lower our inhibitions."
That was not the kind of explanation I had been expecting and, in fact, it wasn't even that satisfactory an explanation.
"Mum, look," I started, "that's not what I'm confused about."
"Oh, really?" she said, clearly quite surprised.
"No, we're both adults and these things can happen," I said, brushing off the explanation as it really wasn't what was confusing me any more, "No, what's confusing me is this."
I produced the pile of post addressed to Emelia Roxx. I saw that she instantly went a bit pale as if she hadn't expected me to find them.
"I can explain..." she started, "it's... well... you see..."
"Mum!" I interrupted with as much authority as I could muster, "Please, who is Emilia Roxx?"
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I could see she was desperately trying to find the words to explain. This in itself made me worried, my mind immediately wondering what she had gotten herself into.
"Well?" I said after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"I'd really rather not say," she said, sheepishly looking away.
"Mum, what's going on? Why are you getting sent money from these companies, why are you having all this post delivered in another name?"
"I'm sorry, Alex, I can't tell you, it's too embarrassing," she said, I could hear her voice starting to crack.
"Mum, after last night I don't think there's anything that we can keep from each other for the fear that it's embarrassing."
She turned to look at me. She locked her eyes with mine and I could see that she was thinking intently on what to say next. Eventually she let out a deep sigh, "I guess you'd have only found out on your own."
"Found out what, mum?"
"Emilia Roxx is me. It's the name I use for my new job."
The new job! Of course, she'd never actually told me what she was doing for a living, but she said it was excellent money, easy work and was over all, a lot of fun.
"You have to change your name for your job?" I asked, slightly puzzled.
"Well, I didn't have to, but it makes having a life simpler."
"Eh? I don't understand," I said, still struggling to put the pieces together.
"Let me show you," she said, picking up her laptop. She clicked away a few times, then placed the laptop on the table and hit "play" on the video she had loaded up.
The video started with two guys sitting in an office, talking to each other in graphic detail about one of the secretaries in the office.
"What is this?" I said, only to be shushed and told to keep watching.
After a few minutes of fairly terrible dialogue, one of the men on screen summoned someone into the office. Imagine my heart falling out of my chest when it was mum! Dressed in a short skirt, tight blouse, heels and stockings, she walked into the frame and within seconds both of the men on screen were pawing at her.
"You're..." I started, unable to find the words, "a porn star?"
I looked over and she nodded at me. I could see how ashamed she was, she was blushing immensely.
"After I caught you jerking off to that video," she said, "I was initially really upset. But I watched it back, realising that the woman in the video was my age. She was sexy, vibrant and she inspired the desire of men around the world. I did some research, I watched other videos of older stars and I saw that there was a desire for it."