---This story includes sexual scenes of an incestuous nature. All characters participating in said acts are portrayed over the age of eighteen. Please do not read any further if this subject material is offensive to you---
Dillon was resting his head on his hands watching steam swirl around in the air above his coffee cup when a warm hand found his back. He turned to see his mother walk around the kitchen counter to pour another cup and grab two large chocolate chip cookies.
"I don't know why I can't stop eating these. They go straight to my hips."
"I learn a bit more about why I'm the way I am, everyday." Dillon pulled out the stool next to him for her and grabbed the cookie she offered.
"How's that?"
"You seriously don't understand anything about the digestive process. You must have passed down your smart genes to me. Alexis has be adopted."
"It's a figure of speech, Smartass. I think I've gained five pounds this month alone."
"There's an easy way to prevent that. Shovel the walk naked."
His Mom coughed a bit of her coffee from the snicker he'd induced, but none came out her nose this time. Her hand ran up his back to find a few hairs on the back of his neck. His head came up from the pain when she pulled at them.
"What? It's good exercise and the shiver factor will burn double the calories. You might even make the news when the video comes out."
"And who would be shooting video of a middle-aged woman shoveling the walk?"
"Me, of course." He leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "For a mom, you're beautiful. So are your hips. "
She looked at him with a pleased but curious smile on her face. Her soft brown eyes exploring her son. The same eyes she'd passed to both her children. "Wow. You really need to find a girlfriend if you're hitting on me."
"I'd never hit on you, Mom. I might get you drunk and sneak a peek at your goodies, but I'd never hit on you."
"Good to know I have a sex offender for a son. What are you doing today?"
"Road trip. I have to go pick up some cabinets. It'll take about three or four hours. The guy we ordered them from doesn't like traveling in snow."
She watched him take a sip of coffee before she spoke. "So, no tours of closets today?"
Coffee went out his mouth and nose as he choked and coughed. His Mom's laughter echoed all over the house as she watched her son try to regain his composure. Her hand was lightly patting him on the back as he was trying to wipe his face off.
"You deserved that, you little shit. You think Jane didn't tell me how thorough her nephew gives tours. A closet? I guess it beats the bathroom."
"Mom?" Dillon was blinking fast. He was hearing the microwave warming up. It was chuckling with evil laughter. His pecker lost two inches trying to find a way to escape.
"Don't worry, Honey. I'm the one that pushed her to you. She's been struggling for awhile. I just thought...I mean. You're a good kid. And your little panty stealing thing was pretty obvious."
Dillon looked around to make sure they were alone. "Oh shit, I'm dead. Mom, I'm sorry. Mom, I didn't mean...I..."
"Honey." She rested her palm on his cheek. Her humor lessened when she saw his panicked expression. "I said, don't worry about it. She needed what you gave her. She was thinking about leaving her husband. Tearing apart her family. You solved that. From the way she's acting and the silly little giggles, you must have really taken care of her itch."
"Mom..." Dillon squinted his eyes and absorbed the information. "Wait. You pimped me out? To my Aunt? You pimped me out to Aunt Jane. What the hell?"
She couldn't stop her laughter from returning. Dillon watched as she happily bounced and jiggled. It was slowly sinking in. Her subtle, "Take care of her. Whatever she needs," was literal. His Mom was devious. Son of a bitch, Mom was his pimp.
"What did she say?" Dillon took a small sip of coffee to test whether or not it would stay down this time.
"What do you mean?
"I don't know. If you would have told me what was going on, I could have taken it more serious. Gone about it differently. Am I a treating her right?"
"Honey." She ran her fingers through his hair and nodded. "Luckily she didn't get too graphic, but yea, you're doing everything right. We're both a bit mystified where a young shy respectable young man like you learned to do the things you do. I really thought you were a good boy."
He smiled at the tone of her voice. She actually used sarcasm in a sentence. "Grandma Irene taught me everything I know. That woman can work her pelvis like a tornado. You really should have her go down on you. She'd rock your pasty little thighs' world."
He took the swat to his forehead in stride. "Dillon. Dear God, you're the worst son in the world." Despite the smack, she was chuckling quietly to herself. "I do kind of have a question for you. I don't really know if I want to know the answer."
"Would you like me to lie to make you feel better?"
"No. I want the truth. Just don't go all Dillon on me. Keep it kind of clean. It's been bothering me."
"All right. I'll be mostly PG." He noticed the furrow between her eyes and decided to ease up on her. His hand ran down her back in a soothing touch.
"It's the panties. How old were you when you started taking them?"
"Twelve. I accidentally discovered them when I was tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper at Aunt Jane's. My hand came out with a pair of her panties. I don't really know why, but Mr. Happy reacted instantly. It took me a few weeks to 'accidentally' find another pair."
"What did you do with them?"
"The second time I sniffed them. I was hooked instantly. Mr. Happy needed a bit of relief and her panties became a trigger for it. I didn't really start thinking about what I was smelling for awhile. When I did, my mind started working and Aunt Jane kind of became my go-to fantasy."
"Just her?" Mom was staring intently at him. Her fingernail was nervously tapping on the counter as she toyed with her coffee cup with her other hand.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the girls. Alexis. Did you ever?"
Dillon shook his head. "No mom. I've never done that. They're safe with me. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt them. I was a boy and Jane was a woman. She was my first crush. I didn't even noticed or realize what girls were for. I was after full-blown women. Aunt Jane was enough for quite awhile."
"You just sniff them? I mean...nothing else?"
"Like wear them or rub on them?" Dillon chuckled and got up to fix a bowl of cereal. "My mind is colorful enough. I don't know. There's just something about the smell of a woman and the taste of her. It effects me. I'm sort of reverent with them. It's not something dirty. Not the way my mind works. Not anymore." He looked up to see his Mom flinch a bit and color start working up her cheeks. "Too much?"
"No. I'd like to know how your brain works. Jane and I talked when you were a kid. She noticed a few panties missing over the years and they seemed to coincide with your visits. It didn't take long to figure it out. I kind of got paranoid and a bit scared. You never took Alexis'. I know that, but mine seemed to have legs occasionally."
Dillon hung his head and covered his face. "You really want to know this?"
"No. But yes."
"Shit." His bright red face appeared over his hands. They both looked at each other as he took a few deep breaths. "I was a bit slow noticing you, but yea, when I was about fourteen I figured out what the smell I liked, was. It was arousal. When a woman got wet. It became my boyhood mission to study what caused it and how to induce it. I was a fanatic for awhile. You were reading a lot of romance novels back then. I used to watch you sitting on the couch with your nose stuffed in a book. You have a tell."
"A what?"
"A tell. A way to know what your thinking or when you're lying. It's a poker term. When something you were reading got you going you'd brush your thumb across the top of your breast while you read. I'd wait until you did that and then sift through the hamper to find the pair you'd been wearing."
Her face took a turn buried in her hands as she shook her head. She shot him a minor glare when she heard him chuckle, but didn't say a word.
"You smell and taste different than Aunt Jane. You have a deeper richness. I guess. It's kind of hard to explain. I love it, though."
"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't." Came her muffled response.
"A bit much finding out your son's thought all sorts of naughty things about you?"
"A lot much." Mom's eyes appeared over her hand to look at him. You...You tasted me?"
Dillon shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. "I had to. The smell of Aunt Jane faded and a boy has needs. You where a happy substitute. Sorry. Since then I've learned to put them in sandwich bags to prolong the scent."
She had an almost pained expression on her face when she finally uncovered it completely. Her hands were flat on the counter and her lungs seemed to be working overtime. "So, you have fantasized about me?"
"You got a lot of action when I was seventeen. Grandma would have been impressed."
"Dillon." Her perturbed mother's voice came out.
"Sorry, Mom." He shrugged and walked over to wrap his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "I was full of hormones and lust. It took me awhile to mature. I'd never do the things I first thought. Not to you, or anyone I loved. Not anyone, now. Despite my obvious freakiness, I am a gentleman." He kissed her again. "I just might have to steal your panties sometime. It's been too long."
"The hell you will. I'm buying a safe for the hamper."
"Can I go now? This sharing is overrated. I'd love a dysfunctional family that never speaks for awhile."
