Debbie Is Overcome

Debbie waited anxiously at the driveway. Every time a car passed by, she would peer out with raised expectations. But none of them stopped, and she would sigh and look at her watch. Any time now, she thought. It wouldn't be long before she set eyes on him.

Damien. Her son. Her 18-year-old son. Her 18-year-old son whom she had not seen for more than 10 years. Not since her divorce. The courts had unexpectedly given custody of Damien to his father. She had been distraught over it for the longest time. Eventually, she reconciled herself to the fact and moved on. But now, things had come full circle. Her ex-husband had just passed away, and since Damien was still considered a minor, he would have to stay with her.

She hadn't been too sure how to respond after the announcement. She had started her new life in a big way: a good job, a small apartment, enjoying life, eating right and working out. All of her friends said that she looked 20 years younger than the 40-year-old that she really was. But now, she would have to share that new life with a teenager whom she had barely met for the longest time. How was she supposed to respond?

Even now, as she awaited his arrival, she was filled with questions. She looked at the photograph in her hand. Damien looked just like his father, with the same chiselled jaw and piercing eyes. But that was just his face. She wondered how else he resembled his old man. And what about his character? His likes and dislikes? Would he be able to adjust to his new life with her? He had lived with a dominant male figure all of his childhood, how would he take to living with his mother now?

And then, her questions disappeared with a screeching sound. She looked up from her daze to see a taxi stop in front of the apartment block. A young man stepped out, pulling a suitcase with him. She looked at his face, then at her photograph. Yes, it was him, Damien. He looked straight at her and she at him, as he walked towards her.

"Damien?" she asked ponderously.

He hesitated, looking her over. Then, he acknowledged softly, "Mom."

A big smile spread across her face. She reached out tentatively, then throwing care to the wind, wrapped her lithe arms around his shoulders and embraced him. Caught off-guard, he could only return the hug.

Then, she took his bag and led him up to her apartment. Damien followed behind, looking this woman over. Her long auburn hair swaying with every step. Her floral slip-on dress sashaying against her body. And her long, slim legs.

He stopped and blinked. This was his mother, he berated himself. Why was he examining her like that? He blamed it on the daze from the long journey. He was tired, that's all. He wasn't thinking straight.

The apartment was a cosy one that was obviously meant for one occupant. But it had a guest room, and this was the one that Debbie led him to. "I'm afraid that this'll have to be your room," she said.

"It's fine," he answered. He took the bag in.

She wasn't sure if she should stay or leave. She looked as he started unpacking his things, and decided on the latter. "Well, I guess I'll let you settle in, then. Dinner in an hour, okay?"

"Sure," he said, without looking up.

The hour passed awkwardly, with mother and son going about their own things. And at six, they sat down at the dining table for dinner. Debbie had ordered some Chinese food. She opened the packets and dished out some noodles for him. And then they ate silently.

She couldn't tolerate the quietness much longer. "So," she blurted out, "any plans for tomorrow?"

He was surprised by that question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it is your 18th birthday."

He was stunned. "You remembered?"

She giggled. "Of course! How can a mother forget her own son's birthday?"

"I... I guess it's because we haven't celebrated before, so I thought you might've forgotten."

She reached for his hand. He shuddered when he felt her touch. He was still unsure about how he should be with her. He looked at her and found himself staring into her large, dark eyes. For a moment, he forgot who she was and could only think about how beautiful she looked.

"Damien, this will be the first in a long time that you get to celebrate your birthday with me, so I want to make it special for you. For us."

He heard the earnestness in her voice and realised how important this was to her. She wanted to rebuild her relationship with him. And celebrating his birthday was the first step. He nodded. "Okay, we'll make it a memorable one."

She smiled happily.

After dinner, she cleared the dishes while Damien continued unpacking. As she scrubbed the plates, she could only think about how happy she was to be with her son again. She hadn't realised it before, but now she felt that there had always been a hole in her life. A hole that had been filled by Damien's return. Silently, she cursed the courts for breaking them up.

She kept the dishes and went to her room. Walking past the guest room, she saw that the door was ajar. She pushed it wider open. "Damien, I hope everything's... oh!"

She gasped at what she saw. Damien was standing in the middle of the room, his back to her, clad only in his boxers. Her eyes immediately soaked in the sight of his muscular back, his huge arms and legs. As her gaze drifted down his spine, she saw his firm ass cheeks punctuating his shorts. He saw her and turned around. Now, she could see his barrel chest, the six-pack abdomen. It was like she was looking at a Greek statue of a god.

Her son was a hunk!

"Damien, I..."

He saw her startled look and realised that he was half naked. He quickly grabbed his shirt and covered most of his chest. Disappointment filled her when he did so. The magnificent view in front of her was now blocked.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I guess... I guess I forgot... I mean, dad and I used to..."

She looked at his apologetic eyes. "No, it's me, I should've knocked first. And of course, I understand. Both of you were men, it was acceptable to be shirtless and..." And she found herself looking at his crotch.

She caught herself and quickly turned away. "I... I'll talk to you later." And she left hurriedly, closing the door shut behind her. She felt embarrassed and humiliated. It had indeed been too long since she had seen a bare-chested man. Now that she had seen her own son, a person whom she had not seen in a long time, in that manner, she had reacted in the only instinctive way that she knew how: as a woman, not as a mother.

She fled to her room and closed the door quickly. No, she couldn't think that way. She was his mother! It was wrong of her to think about him in that manner. Yes, she couldn't control her reflex reaction, but she could control her thoughts. She shut her eyes and tried to quieten the raging thoughts in her mind.

Damien, meanwhile, breathed again only after he heard her room door slam. He realised that he was trembling. He lowered his shirt and looked at his heaving chest. His nipples were hard. And he realised that his shorts felt tighter. He couldn't believe it. Why would he have an erection?

The scenes played back in his mind. When he had turned to face her, it took only one glance for her to be surprised at what she saw. Seeing her shocked face made him realise the state of undress that he was in and, more importantly, that it was having a profound effect on her. And this...

This turned him on.

He sat down, one hand massaging his hard cock through his shorts. And he smiled. He had turned his own mother on! If she was attracted to him, then maybe he could feel less guilty about being attracted to her too. What a devious little devil he was! The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he regarded her less as a mother and more as a - how should he put it - female roommate. An incredibly hot, mature female roommate.

But there was that little nagging voice at the back of his head. A son shouldn't lust after his mother. It was immoral and wrong! What was wrong with him?

He brushed that thought aside, remembering only what his dad had told him once: if you ever find someone whom you could love with all of your heart and be loved in return, then pursue her all the way, don't let anything hold you back.

He lay down and rubbed his thick cock. Unknown to him, in the next room, Debbie lay on her bed, one hand under her dress and tweaking a nipple, the other clutching her warm pussy through her skirt. Except that while he was thinking pleasant thoughts, she was wracked with guilt.

The next day, Debbie left for work at seven as usual. Damien was still asleep, so she left a note, saying that she would prepare dinner and was looking forward to it. All day, she went about her projects and didn't have time to think about her festering feelings for her son. Which was probably a good thing too, because deep inside, she knew that she didn't want to acknowledge them.

But that evening, when she stepped through her front door, the feelings and memories flooded her mind. She could barely walk straight to the dining table, where she placed the two pizzas. Then she headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, and then to her bedroom. She opened her wardrobe and retrieved the navy blue evening gown that she had worn only once so many years ago. She wondered if it would still fit her. She did remember, though, that it clung snugly to her body and would betray any panty lines. So she removed the towel from her body, put on a black strapless lace bra and matching thong, then slipped into the dress.

As she pulled the straps up to her shoulders, she felt the silky material against her as if it was a second skin. She admired herself in her mirror, noting that it fit as well as it did the first time. Amazingly, she had managed to retain her figure all of those years. She turned to the side, looking at her bum, and was pleased that there were no unsightly panty lines. Looking back at her full profile in the mirror, she noted that her friends were indeed correct: she hardly looked 40. She was sure that Damien would also be pleased at having such a youthful mom. Perhaps, that would allow him to be more at ease with her and make it easier for them to re-establish their long-lost familial bond.

Damien walked into the house just as she entered the dining room. He had just returned from town, which he was familiarising himself with. Along the way, he had run into a group of guys, whom he was sure would have given him grief if he hadn't impressed them first with his martial arts moves. At least those lessons had come in useful for something. Impressed, they welcomed him into their fold.

Since he hadn't planned for a grand evening, he was dressed casually in a collared T-shirt and slacks. He paused in his tracks when he saw her. A smile flashed instantly across his face.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "You look amazing!"

"Why, thank you," she said, returning an equally wide smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"What's not to like?" He raised her hand and spun her around like a ballerina, taking in every inch of her feminine beauty. The tight fit of the dress left little to the imagination, and its dark color helped to accentuate her curves in all of the right places.

She was still chuckling when she faced him. "Well, it's just a simple home dinner of pizza, so I thought I'd spice things up by wearing something nice for your special day."

He heard her, but it took him a moment to realise what she had said. He was still captivated by her beauty, and his youthful hormones were raging inside. Then her words clicked.

"You bought pizza?"

"I didn't know what else to buy." She stood next to the pizza boxes on the table.

He laughed. "Well, this is certainly an interesting birthday. Pizzas! Who would've known?" He stepped forward and gave her a tight hug. "Thanks, mom."

She leaned into him and found herself enjoying the touch of his buff body. It felt so perfect that she could feel her body melting into his. She became aware of her breasts crushed against his chest, her crotch pushing up against his erection...

His erection! Her eyes widened and she quickly broke the embrace as casually as possible. As she did, she stole a quick glance at his pants-covered crotch. There was a very visible swell down there. Perhaps he was just well endowed. Or maybe it was just the fabric of his trousers. But no, she remembered how hard it felt. It was all him.

Damien was disappointed that the hug had ended so quickly. One arm had just moved to her waist, so close to her bubble-shaped bum. The other hand was pressed gently against her bare skin that was exposed by the bare back of the dress. His mind had been aflutter from the touch. And he could definitely feel her round, shapely breasts pressed against his chest. For a brief moment, he had experienced absolute bliss, and it hurt him to lose it.

Debbie sat down and opened a box. "Let's eat," she suggested. He sat next to her and took a slice.

"Mmm, this is good!" he said, though he hardly meant it. He just wanted to break the silence.

She chuckled. Then another awkward silence.

"Do you regret having me here?" he blurted out.

She nearly dropped her pizza. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I know you've lived here alone for a long time. And now you suddenly have to share your space with a man. Any woman would feel uncomfortable about it."

"Damien, what are you talking about? You're my son, there's nothing uncomfortable or regretful about it."

"But it must be weird for you. And for me too. We're both used to our own quirks. Like last night, I didn't think twice about undressing in my room, and you walked into my room casually. Face it, mom, we're adjusting to a very uncomfortable situation for both of us."

"Damien, stop this nonsense now! There is nothing uncomfortable or weird or anything about you living with me. You're thinking too much, that's all."

She got up to and stormed to the nearby wine counter. Through the mirror on the wall, she saw Damien watching her pour a glass of red wine. Even with her back to him, she could feel his piercing glare upon her back. She tried to ignore it as she gulped her drink, but failed miserably.

"You know," he said slowly, "the mind may say one thing, but the body will say something else."

She looked at him in the mirror. "What are you talking about now?"

He got up and walked slowly behind her. She felt a cold chill run up her spine, but made no sudden movement. What was he up to now? Why was he frightening her so much?

"Mom, last night, I saw the way you looked at me," he said calmly, looking at their reflections. "And it wasn't the way a mother looks at her child. It was the way a woman looks at a man."

"I was surprised, that's all."

He ignored her. "I know what you were looking at. And I saw how it made you feel."

He bent down until his lips were next to her ear. "How long has it been since you've been with a man?"

Debbie flinched. "Stop it, stop it!" She tried to run but he was too fast for her. He grabbed her arms and held her at her spot. In the mirror, she could see her fear written all over her face. Damien, who was half a head taller, merely stood there, calm and collected, still bent next to her.

He looked at the reflection of her eyes. He raised a finger and traced circles around them. "You keep saying that you have no idea about the sexual tension between us." She flinched again when he used that phrase. He ignored her and moved his finger lower. "Unfortunately, your body betrays your true feelings."

She saw where his finger was pointing. In the mirror, both of them could see the clear reflection of her erect nipples poking out through the soft fabric of her dress. She gasped.

"No, no," she cried, "it's just a reflex action, that's all..." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He held her for a moment, then released his strong grip and took a step back, but continued staring at her. What was he going to do next?

"Take off your dress."

She shot a glare at him. "What?"

He didn't reply.

Debbie turned back to look at her reflection. A thousand thoughts and emotions flooded her mind. She couldn't think clearly, except for one thought that came through clearly: Damien was manipulating her. His father had clearly done a number in his upbringing. She cursed his dead body silently. She looked back at Damien. He was still standing there, still looking at her as if nothing untoward was happening.

Then she looked back at herself. And her nipples. And she felt a warm sensation in her pussy. Yes, it was there, she couldn't deny it. And now that she was aware of it, she realised that she had felt the same warmth the night before. It had come so suddenly, as she had gazed upon her son's bare body, that the feeling hadn't registered in her mind till now.

What had he said? How long had it been since...?

She shivered and hugged herself. How could he do this to her? He was her son! And why was she reacting like that? She knew it was wrong, yet... She looked at her reflection again. She sniffed and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.

And as he watched through the mirror, she found her hands moving to her shoulders. With delicate fingers, she lifted the straps of her dress. Then her hands moved down her upper arms, and the dress followed. She took a deep breath and her fingers let go of the cloth. Her dress fell, held up only by the narrowness of her waist. There she stood, topless except for her bra, in front of her own son. She had no shame now.

Her heart beat faster as she gripped the sides of her dress. Slowly, she bent slightly and pushed it further down. And then her navy blue evening gown was just a crumpled mess at her feet. She thought she felt a cool breeze blow past her long, bare legs. She stood up and looked in the mirror again.

Damien was grinning. He held her gaze as he pulled his shirt over his head. When it was off, he heard her sigh. His bare chest was having its effect on her again. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her naked abdomen. She sighed again and leaned into him, closing her eyes to enjoy his strong body. One arm wrapped around the back of his head, pulling him further into her.

His hands cupped her bra-covered breasts, kneading them gently. Then, while one hand continued caressing her, the other went to her back and unhooked her bra. The black lingerie fell to the floor. She opened her eyes and saw both of his hands paw at her breasts. His fingers found her hard nipples and tweaked them playfully. She smiled like a little girl.

One hand disappeared behind her back again. She heard a ruffling sound, but couldn't make out what it was. Then his arm reappeared around her waist. With a tug, he pulled her against him. And she felt something long and hard press against the small of her back. She didn't need to look down to know that he had removed his pants, and it was his boxers-clothed dick that was giving her sensations beyond belief.

"Can you feel me?" he whispered into her ear. "Can you feel how much I want you?"

She could only moan as she moved her panty-covered bum against him. His dick got harder from her movements. He pressed into her again.

"You tease," he muttered.

She smiled at him in the mirror.

He released his hold on her, then moved back and sat down. She turned around, not bothering to cover her nakedness. His body was wide open to her and she knew what he wanted. She sashayed towards him, and while still holding his gaze, knelt down between his legs. Her hands reached for his shorts. He lifted himself slightly and she pulled the boxers down to his ankles. His hard dick shot up straight. She smiled at it.

"You want me?" she asked teasingly. She took his dick in her hand. "I want you."

And she went down on his dick. He groaned loudly at her sudden move. As she sucked his pole and licked the purple head, her hand stroked up and down non-stop. Her other hand crawled up his chest and found his nipple. He groaned again when she tweaked it.