Inspired by true events.
*
My phone vibrated beside the mounting pile of invoices on the desk before me and caused me to start. I was snowed under at work and staying late trying to catch up before the short Christmas break. Thinking the message was from my wife I was pleased for the distraction and retrieved my cell.
The text read. "Hi Honey. There's something wrong with my washing machine. Would you be a dear and look at it for me? Mom." I smiled at her signing ownership of the text message and was about to reply when a follow up came through. "When you get a chance that is! Mom."
I noted the hour and figuring my wife Meagan would already be holding off dinner to allow for my overtime, a quick stop by my mother's house on the way home wouldn't delay me long and shot off a reply that I'd be there within the half hour.
It would kill two birds with the one stone. On my lunch break I'd spent the time doing my long delayed gift buying. Meagan had taken care of the majority of the presents for the extended family which meant I really only had to deal with Mom and my wife. Meg's gifts had taken the longest to decide upon. A classy silver banded watch had caught my eye and whilst browsing the women's department, Christmas themed lingerie seemed irresistible to my comic and romantic senses. A light hearted gift to compliment the expensive watch and a nod to the season.
Mom's had been simple. Meagan had suggested a new juicer as she'd taken note of my mother's desire to obtain one every time she visited our house. It was located and paid for in a matter of minutes and on the way back to the car, just as the lingerie had caught my eye for my wife, so did another item of clothing that screamed 'Mom' to me.
The store was a woollen clothing shop. Full of scarves and hand knitted beanies, it was the sweater on display in the front window that I just had to buy. When I was a child, Mom and Dad would annually find and don the most gaudy of Christmas sweaters to wear on the holiday. It was a tradition that faded away as I aged and lost the spirit but with this being the first Christmas without my father, I thought it would be a nice reminder for her of the happy days of our past.
The sweater itself was a frozen lake theme with snowmen on skates. Red, white and green, it was as colorful as it was busy and was perfect for the supplemental (novelty) gift. When the little old lady behind the counter offered to wrap it, I should have taken more notice. The size and color of the box she placed it in was almost identical to that which contained my wife's lingerie. A coincidence that would change my life forever.
* * * * *
Upon arriving at Mom's I opened the trunk of my car and discovered the contents had shifted during the drive. The bag from the lingerie store had toppled, the box which I only then noted the similarity however, still partially inside. I scooped up the other box and leaving the juicer in the car, headed towards the rear of my childhood home.
"Mom?" I called as I entered the kitchen, the smell of her dinner still permeating the room and causing me to remember my own hunger.
"In here honey!" Came the reply from the living room and as I approached she met me half way.
Her eyes went to the present in my hands and after kissing me on the cheek she mentioned that Christmas wasn't for two days.
"I know but this is an extra something I want you to wear on the day," I enthused.
"I'm still coming to yours for lunch? Won't we do presents then?" She pondered.
"Of course. After lunch. But this, I want to see you wearing when I come pick you up!" I handed her the box, not thinking at the time the relative lightness of the package.
"Can I open it now?" She asked, a quizzical look appearing on her face.
"No. Wait for the day. I want it to be a surprise." I rubbed her arm affectionately as I looked away towards the laundry. "So. What's the deal with this washing machine?"
My handy man credentials were limited to turning it off and on again and jiggling pipes and wires. After coming up short as to what had malfunctioned I suggested she call a repair man and offered to take any clothes she needed washing home to do in our machine.
"Oh no, that's too much to ask," she half heartedly managed. "I can just hand wash them for now."
We both looked at the sizeable basket of laundry and I smiled, taking possession of the dirty clothes. "Mom. It's no big deal. Meg will do them in the morning, you can drop by tomorrow afternoon to pick them up."
"Well if you're sure," she conceded and added a couple of towels to the collection.
* * * * *
"Ah, I don't think so!"
Meagan's reaction to me presenting my mother's dirty laundry to her wasn't unexpected I supposed.
"She's your mother and I'm going into work early in the morning. You do it!" Her words weren't used with any malice and she smiled as she watched me over her wine glass. I turned on my heel and headed towards the laundry with Meagan yelling advice out behind me. "Separate the colors! Oh and the delicates."
What did she think I was I? A rookie, I wondered as I placed the laundry basket down on the bench top. So all I had to do was put on a couple of loads and throw some stuff in the dryer before bed. The items I'd need to hang dry would be ready for when Mom arrived to pick them up the next day. Simple. Once I lifted off the towels she had added at the last moment I was immediately confronted with my mother's panties. And they weren't what I'd been expecting.
What had I been expecting? Well nothing really. I hadn't put any thought into it at all up until then. It wasn't something a son did think about was it? His mom's panties. The pink transparency struck me as out of place, out of character. I lifted the delicate material up and saw a matching bra beneath. Cup-less, my initial thought was you would see her nipples through the fibres and then unprompted my mind imagined what would be visible through the panties.
"Fuck," I audibly voiced and waited a moment for any sign Meagan had heard my exclamation. None forthcoming I dropped her underwear on the bench and turned back to the basket. Trying to put the thought of my mother's vagina out of my mind I threw jeans, a couple of t-shirts and another pair of pants into the machine. The diversion lasted only that long, the next pair being white satin with lace edging. I'd never considered myself a fetishest before then, but touching another woman's (apart from my wife's) panties gave me an unexpected thrill.
I caressed the satin between my fingers admiring the feel, before examining them further by opening them up and investigating the crotch. Jesus Declan, I scolded myself. They're your mom's! But even that acknowledgement didn't lessen my enthusiasm as I discovered the lightly yellowed, stained gusset. I repeated the assertion. They're Mom's panties for fuck's sake! But it did no good. As if working on auto pilot, my hands raised the underwear to my face and I inhaled the scent they held.
I could tell myself it was just a pair of women's panties I was getting off on. That my erection was from imagining some random woman or even my wife wearing them, but who was I kidding? The image that formed in my head and the reason I was so turned on was that it was my mother who had worn them. It was the taboo. The forbidden nature of what I was doing that was so thrilling, that had my cock straining against my pants. If I hadn't heard Meagan go through the motions of serving dinner down the hall I felt I would've used them to wrap around my hardness and masturbate. Cum into them, all the while thinking incestuous thoughts about my mother. What I would do to her and have her do to me. All in the fantasy world of course! It was just a fantasy. Nothing more. So I kept telling myself.
* * * * *
Meagan laughed as I'd never seen her do! I held the shrunken t-shirt up to her and attempted to explain what I thought had happened. "I must have set the timer wrong or something." I pulled out of the dryer the white satin panties I'd held the night before. Now half the size, almost perfectly shrunk and no longer causing the same reaction in me.
"Oh you think?" Meagan helpfully exclaimed. "Thank you for this. It'll make a great story to tell my family over Christmas lunch tomorrow." Shaking her head she managed to take time out of her revelry to kiss me on the lips and say goodbye before heading off to her workplace. I was left to separate the remainder of my mom's clothing I hadn't destroyed and fold into a pile for her to retrieve later in the day. I just hoped she'd see the funny side as much as Meagan had.
* * * * *
Mom was standing in the front yard talking with my wife as I pulled into the driveway.
"Oh here he is!" Meagan laughed, continuing on from the morning. Mom held the basket of now dried and folded washing on her hip.
"Yeah sorry Mom, I..."
"Oh don't worry about it Honey," she looked at Meagan smiling. "Men! What are they good for?"
Meagan reached into the basket and lifted out the tiny pair of shrunken, ruined panties before flicking them at me like a sling shot. "You'll have to wash your mom's panties by hand now Declan, that's if she'll trust you with them again!" She laughed as I caught them on my chest, the satin feeling the same and the memory of my initial contact with them returning.
Meagan was still in her work clothes but Mom looked like she'd just been exercising. As I ashamedly placed her panties back in the basket I allowed my eyes to caress her body. She would turn fifty six early in the new year and she was still in good shape. Always saying she needed to go on a diet and continuously working out, Meagan and I believed she must have body dysmorphia, as she was as lithe as she'd ever been. Mom wore a light blue sweatshirt with a hood. Tight, it had a zipper up the front which was pulled down to reveal her cleavage. Carefully, making sure I wasn't observed, my eyes lowered to her legs as she spoke to Meagan about the plans for tomorrow.
I shouldn't have been looking. I didn't even know why I was looking, but yet sure enough I found my gaze drawn to her crotch. The grey 3/4 leggings she wore were tight around her hips and thighs, tighter still around her vagina. I didn't know how long I stared at it, not wanting to look away from the folds of her pussy so easily visible through the material. I took in every detail of her mound, the twin lumps of my mother's camel-toe, so enticing, so beautiful.
"So what time will you pick me up?" I heard my mother ask and I realized she was talking to me. I looked up immediately and felt my face redden.
