Darryl cursed as he opened the front door and heard how loud the radio had been turned up to. It felt like the walls were vibrating from the sound.
"Mabel? Turn the radio down will you!" he called out as his bag dropped to the floor with a thud and he strode down the hall, kicking off his clumpy work boots as he went. He peered round the corner of the kitchen door and met her bleary-eyed look his way. "Oh Jeez! You have been at the bottle again?"
She waved a hand airily as if to dismiss a stupid question. "No, I've only had a couple."
Darryl snatched the bottle off the table and poured what was left of the contents down the sink. He then grabbed a glass from the shelf and filled it with water.
"Hey!" she yelled in surprise. "What a waste!"
"Of you. Now drink and drink it all!" He leaned over her as she did so, staring wide-eyed at him over the rim of the glass. She'd never seen him so angry with her. "I'll make supper...you don't seem up to doing that."
"No, you won't, I will!" She said it as she got up from the kitchen chair and stumbled towards him in slow but determined steps. A hand shot to her head, her hair with its streaks of dyed blonde was a mess, in a tangle, and falling on each side of her face. "Oh!"
Darryl gripped her outstretched hand and kept her from falling.
"Money's tight, but we get by, and this is what you do? It's not going to help...it won't bring the bastard back, not that I want to see him again after what he did to you...to us!"
Mabel saw the ferocity of his actions as he jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Ease up, son, I'm to blame as much as anyone." Trembling hands clutched at her dressing gown in an attempt to cover herself properly.
"That's right, go blaming yourself for him going off and shagging other women! You did the best you could for us three when money was tight. Now, when I've got some real work you go feeling all sorry for yourself and do this!"
"I said I'm sorry!" Angrily she grabbed his arm to make Darryl look at her. "Things just get to me, you know that."
"And I sure know that hitting the bottle isn't the answer."
"Clever of you!" she sniped back. Mabel followed him around the kitchen as he looked for a cooking pan to put some food in and heat it. "There's not much, sorry. I...I didn't get to the shops."
"Yeah, so I see." He met her baleful look as she tugged tight the belt of her thin dressing gown again, the fabric too slippery to make it possible without double-knotting it. She pushed his hands away as he tried to help her.
"I...I don't think you should do that, son." She had felt an uncommon thrill from feeling his touch upon her.
Darryl shrugged but still looked at her.
"You haven't even bothered to get dressed. What do I have to do to make you feel that you're still worth something and to someone?"
Mabel put her hands to his arms as Darryl brushed her hair away and gazed down into her eyes. Her son was taking control.
"Don't be angry, please. I'm easing up on the booze, I promise."
"Before we go broke!" The way she clung to him and then brushed her fingers over his lips had him thinking that she was sorry and wanted to make it right between them.
"I won't let that happen, darling. Now, help me to my room and, I'll put something on. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Darryl sighed as he saw her move away and to the foot of the stairs that led from the kitchen to the landing above them and the two bedrooms that they occupied. Even if he was her son, and angry now on seeing the state she was in, he still felt the spark of longing for the woman before him and the fire in his groin that seeing her shaped by that flimsy dressing gown had aroused.
He was a horny guy and remembered how he had heard his parents fucking sometimes. He had taken to wondering, since Frank had abandoned them, if it was him or any man in her bed, and taking her, that she missed more than anything. Attention of that sort made her feel good about herself.
"Why are you looking at me like that, son?"
"Darryl..."
"Yes, Darryl, now answer me."
"I'm going to take you to bed and fuck you, Mabel. I want you, the woman...and not who you are to me. I reckon it may help you get through."
"You could have given me more warning of what is obviously on your mind, before now!" She pretended to be shocked by what had been said. Her mind raced as she tried to remember if this was the first time he had shown any interest, of that kind, in her.
"Working on the site is hard enough, but I do get moments to think about what is going down, here at home and about you." He felt only too certain of what he wanted and that was her fleshy body, to touch those tits that he saw shaped by her dressing gown. "Get upstairs and let me see you, Mabel...or do you want me to call you 'mother'?"
"We seem to have gone way beyond that!"
She failed to keep the dismay from her voice, that she was surrendering to him, but she took slow steps up the stairs, Darryl following and his hands brushing over her legs and lifting the hem of her nightgown to make it easier to do so. She tore loose the belt and turned to face him as she stood at the top of the stairs.
"Jeez, you have so much for me!" Daryl gaped at her rack, at the tumble and sag of her heavy breasts, her nipples pointing up, and a raging temptation to pinch and tug upon them with his lips.
Mabel gasped at the ferocity of his claims upon her. It was as if a dam of restraint had finally burst.
"Take me now that you've got me this far!" she yelped as Darryl buried his face between her legs, poked and slicked with his tongue over her pussy's lips, his fingers prodding into her until he finger-fucked her. "You're back where you came from!"
"I'm not thinking about that!"
She was pushed to her knees, there on the landing, and Darryl tugged away his work trousers, then his briefs, his penis springing free and slapping against her face.
"Darryl look at you!" She looked at it with both lust and apprehension in her eyes.