Transformation

Alan held her buttocks and moved against her several times watching Elizabeth's face respond to each movement. Suddenly, Alan realized how close he was and paused.

"Close?" They were alone but she whispered it in a quiet, private voice.

"Ohhh, yes." The same way.

"Now? Or later?"

"When you're ready."

"I'm so close, too. I want it so much and I want to wait. I can't choose!" She watched as Alan nodded slightly showing her he understood. "Play with my nipples. Hard, not too hard. Oh, god, yes! A little harder. Yes!"

She started rocking against him, grinding her crotch into his then moving away and repeating the action. Alan started to tense. "So close. So very close," he whispered. The tone in his voice said "I can't hold back! I can't wait!"

She rocked. "Not yet! Not yet!" She moved again. "Not yet." And again. "Ok, now my darling! Now! Yes. Come now! Come for mommy. Come! Come!" .

Alan arched his body up. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

She moved against him and threw her head back as the waves of her pleasure moved through her. Alan arched his body again and again, his groin moving against hers. Thrusting. Pressing. Straining. Exploding. Releasing. Releasing. She felt Alan's body relax and she leaned forward against him, kissing him and then wrapping her arms around his neck holding him close to her. He reached and wrapped his arms around her. They rested in that position, waiting for their breathing to slow down.

"Play with my breasts. Gently, they're very sensitive." Her eyes were closed. Alan reached and cupped a breast in each hand. A shiver went through Elizabeth and she sighed deeply through her nostrils. "That's perfect. Don't stop." Alan watched her face as the pleasure continued to ripple through her body. Occasionally, Elizabeth would gently bite down on her lower lip as the sensations glided through her and across her face. She slowly moved her groin against his.

Eventually she stopped and moved so she was looking at his face, looking at the dear, sweet face of the man she had ... had what? Had pleasured? No, more than that. Had fucked? Hardly! Whatever the word was, and Elizabeth began to think there wasn't a word, they had certainly done that and done it underlined and in bold. Dear god, if it was like that and they weren't making love, what would making love be like?

"You know I love you," he said.

"I know."

"Not that way."

"No. I know. I've seen it in your face, in the way you react to me." She paused. "I've known it longer than you have."

"When did you know? How did you know?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, I guess. It does matter that you love me that way ..." Alan repeated the words for emphasis, "that way, too."

"Well, now you know."

"Uh-huh." A silence. "What's next?"

"I don't know. You're my son. You're a man." She paused. "I need some time. Maybe some space. You don't have to understand, you just have to accept."

It was hot and a small bead of sweat started to roll down Alan's chest. She leaned forward and tasted it with her tongue and then sat back. She gazed into his eyes and he held her gaze for several moments. "I wanted to say this in the restaurant: nice tits!"

"Oh, you! You men are all the same."

"Some of us are different." Quietly but with confidence.

"Yes." She said it quietly but with layers of meaning.

She got up. "You like my tits?" She laughed. "Good! I'm glad you like them. They're the only ones I've got and I wasn't planning to change them."

Alan stood up. "Come here." He pulled her against his chest. "Good. I like them just the way they are. I like the complete package. I wouldn't change a thing."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "I'm so much older. This isn't the body of a woman your age." She searched for the words as she collected her thoughts. "If you really wanted ..." She let the sentence hang there, incomplete.

Alan shook his head. "There's more to the package than a body. I really wouldn't change a thing." He bent down, picked up her blouse and bra from the floor and handed them to her. They dressed and headed upstairs together, hand in hand, man and woman.

He went to his room and she to hers. The comforter was still on the drawer of memories. She stood in front of it, thinking of the past few hours, of past few years, of a lifetime. She was hesitant, but not afraid as she had been before, to face her prince. The pleasure of being with her son was still running throughout her nervous system. She had to face him some time, she knew that. She decided to get it over with then and there.

She removed the comforter and opened the drawer of her memories. She picked the picture with shaking hands, closed her eyes and held it in front of her for a while before opening her eyes and looking into his.

She looked at the picture for a long while, sitting silently and stunned. Her mind was clouded with guilt and it took a while for the fog to dissipate. Once it did though and the scenery became clear, she found herself looking at a picture of herself with her husband, Alan's father, on their honeymoon. The couple in the picture was standing in the water, his arms wrapped around her body lovingly and her face lit with the promise of a wonderful tomorrow.

She wasn't in the water with her prince. She was in her room, looking at that old picture of a faded memory.

It took her a long while to come to terms with this new reality and then finally she put the picture back into that drawer of memories and closed it for the last time.

She lay on her bed for a while and then got up with a new determination. She went out of her room and into his. He was just standing in the middle, doing nothing, just standing.

She said to him, "You know, we haven't tested your new bed yet." A coy smile spread all over her lips.

He looked at her strangely. There was a vacant look in his eyes; like he was not Alan that she knew, but another man with the name Alan. He quietly moved towards her and proceeded to remove her clothes. Soon she was standing naked in front of him. He then took his own clothes off and placed her arms around her waist and his erection between her legs. She opened her legs a little to let his penis go between her thighs but instead of hugging her in that position, he placed his hands behind her thighs and lifted her up. At the same time his penis started to push against her pussy. By the time he reached the bed, his head was making its way into her cunt.

Her dropped her onto his bed and fell on top of her. The force of his body, as it crashed on top of her, pushed his penis all the way in and beyond. She couldn't believe a man could go that far inside of her.

All the ghosts were exorcised that night as their screams almost brought the house down. There was a new beginning for both of them. A beginning with a promise of a fulfilling future, as Alan, the young man, became Alan,the man, and Elizabeth, the mother, became, Elizabeth, the girl,his girl.

The rest is history, as they say.

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This story started on the other side of the globe from me. It was started by a fan of mine who has become a truly good friend over the years. We met when he responded to one of my earlier stories and we have stayed in communication ever since. He was fortunate to have experienced my beautiful country :-) at an impressionable age and apparently it endeared us more than it would have otherwise.

I don't know what possessed him to start writing after reading about my ordeals with my own stories, which I had shared with him through my e-mails. By the way, we haven't seen each other yet and we don't really know what the other looks like, but that is the beauty of our relationship. It is purely mental.

He made one mistake though. He was doing so well with his writing that it got to his head and he decided to share his writing with me, even though it was at an early stage. I, being a big mouth, decided to give him a word of advice, which prompted him to ask me to edit his story and make it better --- which I knew I couldn't because it was a good story without any interference from me.

I took his request seriously and gave him one hell of an editing treatment. I chopped things everywhere and tried to make him think like me, which of course must have been very discouraging to him because it was after all his story and I had no idea what he was planning with it or where he was headed.

My editing was so intrusive that he decided to rather concentrate on other things and the story lay there waiting for an ending. Finally, when I knew that he had no desire left to continue with the story his way, I decided to make my move and asked him if I could finish it for him.

He was only too glad to get rid of it and I was too glad to finally mould his story to my events. I basically sabotaged a budding and brilliant writing career so I could take the story idea [read that steal] and make it my own. Honestly, I don't regret it, because I enjoyed [re]writing this story.

It has taken months, and I mean long months, to finally put something out that I can feel good about. After all I don't want my dear friend to be disappointed. This is how I explain this joint venture:He put ideas into my head and I put words into his mouth.

Let's see if you can distinguish my style of writing from his, because he did write at least half, if not more, of this story and I included it word by word. I never really knew how he wanted to end this story, that's why the beginning does not tie in with the end, but that's what I found exciting. It will leave the reader wondering and I hope it is a rewarding wonderment.

Those who like to give a zero rating to this kind of stories just because there is not enough action should know that this story does not deserve a low rating. It has come from two brains and has been very hard, but very rewarding, work. To give this work a low rating does not say anything negative about our work, it only shows the low intelligence level on your part.

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it. My friend does not want any credit so I can't mention who he is, but I am hoping that he'll at least leave his viewpoint on the public bulletin board and let all of us know what his feelings are about the way I have butchered his storyline.

I also hope that all of you would take your time and give us your feedback, through the bulletin board or through e-mail to me, because that is where the real reward is for working so hard on writing this piece. All comments are welcome and cherished, although I may not be able to respond to all of them. My apologies in advance for that.