One Plus One Should Equal Fun

Marcus concluded that it had begun as such incidents often did. An off-the-cuff remark received a sarcastic reply, which prompted an even more sarcastic response before the war of words escalated. At some point, violence entered the fray, with his mother suffering a split lip and a black eye.

Susan had tolerated her husband's behaviour for many years, making excuses and trying to hide the bruises and marks that he left on her face and body when he lost his temper and used his fists.

"Thank God her children were out," she thought to herself; at least they had not had to witness this latest assault.

With his anger expended for the moment, Thomas stormed off. He left his wife to wipe the blood from her face and retrieve a small pack of frozen peas from the freezer, which she tenderly placed against the swelling around her eye. He would probably return later, after he had cooled down, begging her to forgive him and promising it would never happen again.

He would promise it on each occasion, and yet it continued to take place. She dreamed of leaving him -- of escaping to somewhere safe with her son and daughter -- but knew he would come looking. Anyway, she had no money, no job, and nowhere to go. She was afraid that he would go too far one day and kill her, but how did she escape her impending fate?

Marcus was the first to arrive home. He examined his mother's injuries and held her tightly as the tears began to flow. How many times had he done this, giving her comfort after one of his father's outbursts?

Once, it had been an isolated occurrence. Lately, however, it seemed to be growing in frequency as he noticed his mother becoming a human punchbag when his father lost his temper.

He had previously begged her to leave his father, but she had always given him the same reply. "Where will I go and what will I do, Marcus? I'm trapped with no escape."

When Molly, his sister, arrived home, she launched into a tirade against Thomas, calling him all the names under the sun. Just like her brother, she was protective of their mom, and while Marcus simmered inside, she voiced her anger at their father's actions.

Both knew what the argument meant. Normally, after their evening meal, they would be out with friends, but with this latest incident, neither of them wanted to leave her alone. Their father might return in an apologetic mood, but, unfortunately, if he had found his way into one of the many local hostelries, he could return in a state and spoiling for another fight.

Susan wasn't scared for herself; she was afraid for her children. When they were young, Thomas had been somewhat of a disciplinarian, but he only resorted to an occasional slap when they were naughty, rarely intentionally inflicting pain. His mood swings were getting worse though, and she was beginning to fear for their safety if they got in his way.

It was nearly ten o'clock that evening when he returned, and they could hear him grumbling and muttering to himself as he came up the garden path and opened the front door. As they feared, he was intoxicated and determined to settle the previous disagreement with his wife.

"Where is she? Where is the bitch?"

While Molly comforted their mother, Marcus put himself between them and his advancing father.

"Get out of my fucking way, boy," Thomas thundered, continuing to approach until he came up against his son's outstretched arm.

"You have done enough damage, dad; leave her alone!"

The alcohol did Thomas no favours; he still saw Marcus as a child. With drink inside him plus being overweight and going to seed, his son standing in his path was like a red rag to a bull. He took a swing, a haymaker, and missed.

His mouth hurt; he could taste blood, and he was sitting on his backside, his head spinning.

Marcus stood over him. "Get up, and I'll put you down again; that's the last time you ever hit her."

Thomas struggled to his feet. He wasn't taking that, especially in his own home, and suddenly lunged forward, arms outstretched, trying to get a grip on his son. Unfortunately, Marcus wasn't there any longer; he had stepped back and sideways, and instead, Thomas met a fist that hit him full-on in the face, breaking his nose, and putting him back on his arse.

"Keep getting up, and I'll keep putting you down. Not very pleasant, is it? It's easy to hit mom when she doesn't fight back."

The fight had gone out of him, but "he would bide his time," Thomas thought. However, he was not expecting what followed as his son spoke.

"You can spend the night in the car, and then tomorrow, pack your bags. We don't want you here anymore. Isn't that correct, mom?"

Susan felt a sudden dig in her ribs. Molly looked at her and mouthed the answer. "Ye... Yes...... that's right," she stammered.

Thomas was going to put up an argument, but with the front of his shirt already bloodied and both his nose and mouth hurting, perhaps tonight was not the ideal occasion to have another set-to with Marcus.

"Molly, get him a couple of blankets. We don't want him to freeze to death, do we?"

She would have been quite happy to see her father freeze or burn in hell. He was a bully, the worst kind, one who resorted to beating his wife when arguments got out of hand.

Marcus handed over the car keys and ushered him towards the front door. Once his dad was outside, he clicked on the deadlock and then put a key in the lock of the back door so that he could not gain entry that way.

"Can you miss a day of college tomorrow?" he asked his sister.

When she nodded her head, he continued. "I'll see if I can get some time off work, and I'll also pick up some new locks. Keep the deadlock on and a key in the back door while I'm out tomorrow, and then I'll change the locks when I get home."

Grabbing his mobile, he took several pictures of his mother's bruised face; if necessary, it was evidence of his father's abuse.

"I know you won't, but if he tries anything, I'm going to call the police, and don't worry, I'll support us for the moment. Everything will be okay, mom."

The following day, while working on the housing development, he managed to cadge new door locks off one of the joiners. Marcus changed them that evening when he got home, simply swapping like for like before distributing the new keys.

"I've got next week off just in case, but with new locks, dad won't be able to get inside. If he tries, call the police. If you are scared to phone them, call me, and I'll call the law."

Marcus didn't expect his father to surrender that easily, but he and his sister could not spend every day at home, just in case.

As it was, fate lent a hand. After a session in the pub a week later, Thomas totalled his car as well as himself. The police called to inform the family, took one look at Susan, and listened to Marcus's explanation before adding their condolences and leaving. None of the family members could claim to be sad. Thomas had not been the best husband or father. At least his life insurance paid for the funeral and the mortgage, with a little bit left over for his wife.

Marcus was true to his word; his wages each month went towards the bills and any other costs the family incurred. Much to her delight, Susan found herself a job, something her husband had always denied her. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but it helped with their finances and got her out of the house each day.

Now that she was employed, he and Molly dragged her out for a drink on Friday evening. It was not something that she enjoyed, especially after how her husband had behaved when he'd had a few. They only had one before she was ready to leave, with Molly staying out with her friends while Marcus walked home with his mother.

As it was the weekend, he slept late the following morning, coming down for breakfast in shorts and a t-shirt. With his food eaten and coffee consumed, he pushed back from the table, tilting the chair onto its rear legs. He folded his arms behind his head as he stretched, and watched when his mom appeared, dressed similarly in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt top, as she began making herself coffee and a bowl of cereal.

Her hips were a little on the wide side, and she had added some flesh to her buttocks over the years. Her tummy had expanded, not excessively but sufficiently to give her a slight belly. Her legs, though, were pretty decent. What caught his eye were her breasts. Without her bra, they sagged because of their size and weight, but what held his attention were her nipples. They were presently erect and seemed to be quite long, going by the size of the protrusions they made in the front of her t-shirt.

Lost in his thoughts -- though, regrettably, not decent ones, Marcus wondered what her breasts would feel like in his hand and how heavy they might be. Unfortunately, those thoughts caused a reaction -- a stiffening in his nether regions.

As his mother came to the table to put her cup and bowl down, he dropped the chair back onto all four legs.

Maybe it was just her idea of fun -- a way of expressing her appreciation -- because suddenly she was sitting in his lap, an arm going around his neck.

"Thank you for looking after me; I don't know what he would have done without you." She finished by kissing his cheek.

He felt embarrassed. He didn't need his mother's thanks; any son would have done the same. That wasn't the main reason for his discomfort though; it was that, for a moment, he had been imagining doing things to her, that would be considered disgusting. The other reason was that, while his penis was not fully erect, it was sufficient for her to be able to feel it.

After kissing her son's cheek and with their faces only inches apart, Susan could feel what was pressing against her buttock and thigh. She also noticed when Marcus glanced down quickly at her bosom and erect nipples. His eyes locked back onto hers as she suddenly found that her breathing had quickened.

For some reason, that furtive glance sent a signal to her vagina, a place that hadn't seen action in a long time. She felt flushed as a sudden thought entered her head, as though some sexual telepathy had passed between them. Quickly, she left his lap, horrified at what she had just imagined. They sat silently for a moment before Marcus went for his shower and then to dress.

Standing in the shower, he wondered about his sudden obsession. It wasn't as though his mother was some sex goddess. She was a slightly attractive middle-aged woman who, at forty-three, was a little overweight -- not exactly what would normally appeal to him. It had been her nipples; they were the culprits. They had been what attracted his attention. The shape of her full breasts and their teats forcing out the thin material of her t-shirt were the cause of his embarrassment down below.

Sitting alone downstairs, Susan finished her coffee and wondered what had come over her. She had just been playing the fool, but she also wanted to thank Marcus for the compassion and assistance he had given to both her and his sister; very few young men would have done as much. She hadn't meant anything by it when she plonked herself in his lap, but almost immediately, she could sense his partial arousal and the glance he gave her breasts and nipples. That glance alone had made them throb; the sensation between her legs quickly followed. It heightened her sensuality and the disturbing thoughts that had flooded her mind.

She scolded herself. Not for what she had thought, but for imagining that at twenty-two, he would be even remotely interested in someone of her age who had allowed herself to lose any sexuality that she may have once possessed. Susan knew that the woman who stared back at her from the mirror was overweight and frumpy looking; it wasn't an attractive sight to behold. Putting her dishes in the sink, she heard the bathroom door open upstairs and took her chance, going for her morning shower before getting dressed. Under the spray, for the first time in years, she considered masturbating, but with Marcus in the bedroom next door, she couldn't bring herself to take the chance, fearing that if she made too much noise, he would hear her.

With him and his mother both working full time, they had developed a routine. One morning, his mom would jump into the shower first while he started preparing breakfast, and then the following morning, he would go first while she started preparing it. As soon as they dried themselves, they swapped over, with the other person finishing off the hot drinks before eating together and then going to get dressed.

Now at college, it would be at least an hour before Molly surfaced, and so they enjoyed the time alone. Without her constant chatter, they had a chance to discuss significant issues and which bills would need to be subsequently paid.

Unfortunately, pyjama bottoms did nothing to prevent his predicament each morning. He even tried putting briefs on beneath them, but to no avail. It was his mother's fault, and he wondered if women suffered from erectile nipples each morning just like men suffered from a hard-on when they first awoke. Her normal attire was usually PJ bottoms and a t-shirt, but lately, she had taken to slipping into a silky robe. It seemed to accentuate her nipples even more and also had the habit of opening slightly and giving him a view of her cleavage. When that happened, it would be difficult for him to move, even if he had finished first, because the bulge that would develop down below would be directly in her line of sight if he stood.

"This was ridiculous!" Why was he getting a boner looking at his mother's nipples and breasts?

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen tits before; he had seen numerous bosoms. Why now had his cock decided that the sight of his mother's chest was a reason for it to become aroused?

Marcus wanted to tell her to wear something more concealing, something that covered her breasts and did not attract his attention, but to say anything would cause problems; what could he say if she asked for an explanation?

Susan caught her son's frequent furtive glances; she wished he wouldn't because it only served to encourage her nipples to throb and expand, which then caused him to look even more. She couldn't fathom why she simply did not get dressed so that nothing would show; perhaps it was that secretly it excited her. It just seemed that the more he glanced at her breasts, the more she had the urge to display them, enjoying the sensations that her inflamed pussy sent through her body.

On the odd occasion when her son had moved from his chair first, Susan had caught sight of his erection. This only made matters worse. She had begun wondering what it might look like; more, and much to her disgust, she had wondered what it would feel like in her pussy. In bed at night, she imagined Marcus sneaking into her room and her bed.

She would protest, of course, but after that, she would welcome him, allowing him to penetrate her fanny and make love to her. Susan imagined his hands caressing her body, fondling her breasts, and tweaking her nipples, his cock forcing her pussy open with each thrust. Her fantasy increased in parallel with her arousal as her fingers rubbed at her vagina and clitoris until she burst. The resulting climax had her twisting and writhing on the bed, thighs clamped tightly together as her orgasm sent spasms of pleasure blasting through her body. Afterwards, guilt would overcome her; she was disgusted at herself for thinking of having sex with her son, despite how erotic and sinful it felt at the time.

Presently, Marcus was resisting the temptation to imagine or do more. He had a girlfriend, so it wasn't as though he was going without.

One morning, though, having dropped his spoon, he bent in the chair and reached beneath the table to retrieve it. His mother hadn't closed her legs fully, and the robe had separated slightly so that as he bent, he caught a quick view of her pussy and manicured mound.

As he resumed his breakfast, Marcus had an instantaneous erection, his face colouring as his cock expanded and began to throb with an intensity he had not experienced before. If he didn't have work to go to, he would have rushed up to his bedroom for a wank, such was the enormity of the arousal he felt. All day while he grafted, the image kept reappearing in his head. It surprised him to find that he considered his mother to have quite a delightful-looking pussy.

After work and over their evening meal, he could not stop glancing at her every few minutes. The white blouse she wore, pulled tightly across her breasts, showed the outline of her bra, and he knew that once finished, he needed to go upstairs and knock one out.

Thankfully, he was still wearing boxers when his bedroom door suddenly opened. Molly strode confidently into his room as though she had every right to be there. As was her usual manner, she came straight to the point.

"Is there something going on between you and mom? Something I need to know about."

"No! Why?"

"Because you keep glancing at each other. As though you have a secret. If I didn't know, I would think you two were up to something."

Marcus could feel the heat as his face darkened; hopefully, Molly hadn't noticed.

She hadn't; her attention was presently elsewhere. She had hoped to catch him naked, but wearing tight boxers was better than nothing. She rambled on about anything and everything for the sole reason that it gave her the chance to examine him partially undressed. Her brother's dirty blonde hair meant that his chest was unadorned as Molly gazed at his pecs and abdominal muscles. When he moved his arms, his biceps flexed, and she imagined them holding her tightly as she pressed her naked body against him.

Her young pussy oozed fluid, her panties getting damper the more she looked. What she wouldn't give for Marcus to make advances towards her -- she would be naked before he could get the words out of his mouth. She knew she couldn't stay much longer; her pussy urgently crying out to be touched. Another minute, and she would have to go and finger herself. The thought of doing it while he watched excited her further until, finally, she had made her excuses and disappeared to her room, locking the door before frigging herself to orgasm.

It continued in this fashion, with each person having their fantasies and then feeling wretched afterwards, disgusted that they could ever consider such behaviour normal.

With Molly now on her summer vacation, Susan and Marcus decided to use a week of their holiday allowances. They couldn't afford to go away but decided day trips to the coast or picnics were cheap and just as much fun. The weather on their first day was hot, so they elected to visit an outdoor swimming pool. It would cost them little other than the entrance fee, and with sandwiches, they could spend most of the day there and relax.

They dressed appropriately: Marcus wore swimming shorts, Molly was in a bikini, and their mother had bought herself a pale orange swimming costume. It was fine when dry, but unfortunately, once she had been in the water and it was wet, he could see her nipples making twin protrusions. Not only that, but whilst not see-through, it was sufficiently transparent to enable him to see her areolas, and with the way it clung to her pussy, her cameltoe.

He had to admit it was a struggle, his cock responding frequently to the sight of her. The safest place he found was in the water; at least there, his bulge was hidden beneath the surface. That was until Molly swam over and started jumping all over him. She was having fun, wrapping her legs around his waist as she floated on her back.

Molly's head suddenly came out of the water. She had been enjoying what she was doing because her brother, to assist in keeping her afloat, supported her buttocks. She stared at Marcus because her legs had slipped down his body, and what she now felt pushing against her pussy was an erection. She went from mildly excited to full-on arousal in seconds, her legs gripping tightly as she rubbed her pussy against it.