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He fingered his wine glass then downed the remainder of his drink. He took a final look in the direction of the bathroom, collected his wallet and keys, and said, "Alright, let's go."
"Good. Turn off your phone," she said.
After, as the man dressed, Claire's nude form adorned in his semen, she asked, "So what will you tell your wife?"
He only shook his head. "I have no idea."
With an ineffable sense of disappointment, Claire began to suspect that she could have anyone she chose, that no man could resist the superlative appeal of her body. That--young, prohibitively shy, or married--all would, of course, abandon themselves. It was a primal sort of need, she grew to understand, as plain as the need for food or sleep.
So how then to satisfy her own growing need for the thrill of reluctant submission? How could she raise the stakes, she wondered, when every man so eagerly yielded?
At night, as Claire lay in bed and probed her own hot core, she was surprised to find her thoughts begin to settle tentatively on her son, the lean sinuousness of his body, the fine curls at the nape of his neck, and the obstinance with which he had continued to ignore her. She recalled, with a forbidden thrill, the delightful frustration she'd felt at Matthew's ignorance. Now there was a challenge.
It seemed like he was the only one her charms had failed to bewitch. So entrenched he seemed in the maternal concept of her, so engaged by the many private preoccupations of being eighteen, that he had scarcely seemed to notice the changes she had undergone.
It was an ambiguous longing at first, an obscure throb that began to swell within Claire whenever he was around. She began to bounce more vigorously about the house in the pursuit of her various domestic enterprises. She wore less, made a permanent exhibition of her irresistible body, and found excuses to be near her son.
And then, one night, as Claire lay back to work her fingertips across the firm bud of her clitoris, there it was, clear and explicit. At some point in the intervening days, the idea had crystallized. And as Claire ferried herself to orgasm, her next conquest finally presented itself, the idea fully formed, as though it had always been there inside her: She would dedicate herself to the slow seduction and ultimate degradation of her own young son.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 2 years agoThis was terrific. The premise was simple, it wasn't convoluted or in love with its own rules, and - and it's weird this is something I have to say, but it's true - it was actually sexy! So many fetish stories seem to get lost in the weeds of the fetish and forget to actually have some good ol' basic sex appeal.
I'm not really into orgasm denial as a thing, it just kind of leaves me nonplussed, but the sisters' mind games were fantastic. The protracted tease at the beginning in the gym, mixing shame and exhibitionism and sexual mastery, was sublime, and then the story wisely shifted down a few gears to really get Claire's story going, then gradually ratcheted back up until she's casually destroying a marriage. Wonderful.
Honestly, the only thing that didn't really land for me was the mother/son stuff at the end. Not just because I'm not into that, but because it kind of comes out of nowhere? I'd forgotten she even had a son. It feels like a hurriedly dashed-off element to get the story out the door. But from a storytelling point of view, why not circle back to the beginning and let the "new" Claire confront - and master - her sister? It'd be elegant and hot.
