Ever Notice? Ch. 02

An Oedipus County Epic

This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, and the actions contained herein should not be duplicated. All characters are 18 or over. It's all pretend, folks.




The front door opened and Eric's mother Christina swirled into the house. "Hello!" she called up the stairs.

Eric peeked his head up over the sofa. "In here, Mom," he said.

"Oh!" Christina said, laughing. "Sorry. I should have noticed the television on." Christina stepped into the living room, giving her son a big, toothy smile.

Eric's mother had her short red hair pinned back. She had large blue eyes which smiled at Eric, mirroring the scintillating grin parting her full ruby red lips. She wore a gold necklace around her swanlike throat, bearing a small amethyst. Christina wore a lavender blouse under a violet sweater vest that molded to her curves, a long dark purple skirt, and leather boots. Her laptop in its slim black case hung off of one shoulder, her designer purse around the other, the strap snug within her cleavage. She set the laptop down by the hall table and stepped into the living room.

"How was your day, sweetie-bear?"

Eric sat up straighter, his eyes unconsciously roving up and down his mother's lush, curvy frame. Christina had lost a lot of weight since moving out west, but had kept it in all the right places. Her chest was impressive, her waist trim, her hips wide, her backside full and inviting. Basically, Eric's mom was the total package: beautiful, built, compassionate, and caring.

"It was okay," Eric allowed. "I went over to Tom's to shoot some hoops, but spent most of the afternoon watching the TV."

Christina leaned over the back of the sofa, as if unaware of the prominence she gave her breasts, or they way they sort of thrust at Eric, each one almost bigger than his head, their size and heft emphasized by the tightness of the sweater and the strap of her purse. "You know," she said, "if you got up before noon, you could drive me to work in the morning and have the use of the car during the day." She paused, eyelids drooping slightly as she regarded him. "You would have to pick me up, too."

Eric grumbled. He didn't feel comfortable just wandering around town, looking for something to do. Nor did hanging out at the mall appeal to him. Or, for that matter, getting up early.

"Its okay, Mom, I don't mind hanging out at the house. There's a pool, and Tom is pretty cool to hang with."

"Okay," Christina said, not sounding convinced. She stood up. "Speaking of Tom and Alice, we are having them over for dinner this evening. I am going upstairs to shower and change – would you get the grill going? There should be some steaks in the fridge, and I'll whip up some veggies."

"Sure, Mom," Eric said. He watched his mother disappear of the stairs, humming to herself. Her ass twitched back and forth in that purple skirt with each step.

Eric shook his head slowly, trying to clear it of inappropriate thoughts. He went into the kitchen, took out the steaks, and stopped. His mind whirled. His mother was getting naked, up in her room, right this moment. Maybe she was already in the shower. Maybe he'd missed the whole thing... and maybe he might catch a glimpse of something. Anything.

With a strange feeling in his head and an even stranger feeling in his gut, Eric slipped out of the kitchen and hurried up the stairs, moving on the balls of his feet, trying to be as quiet as possible. He padded down the hall, thankful for the full carpet, towards his mother's room.

He saw that the door was cracked open, just a few inches. Eric's heart thundered in his chest. Slowly he approached the door. He could hear Christina moving around in her room. A floorboard creaked under his foot and he froze, silently cursing himself. But if his mother heard, she gave no sign.

He waited a few seconds, but eager not to lose his chance, eased himself across the intervening space to the cracked door. He stopped breathing.

Christina stood by her vanity. The boots lay discarded a few feet away, along with her knee length purple argyle socks. The skirt was in a puddle at her feet, and the sweater was tossed across the bed, only a fraction of it in Eric's field of vision.

But his mother dominated his view. She still wore the blouse, shirt tails obscuring her full matronly ass, but her pale, smooth legs were bare. As Eric watched, Christina removed the barrettes from her hair and set it on the table, and began removing her jewelry, which she placed carefully in their appointed spaces on the vanity.

Eric couldn't see the mirror, which he was grateful for, as it suggested that his mother wouldn't be able to see him spying. But he could tell by her arm movements that she was unbuttoning her blouse. Eric's eyes widened, pupils dilating. He felt a tightness growing in his shorts.

The collar lifted away and his mother lowered the blouse off her shoulders. The fabric slid down her arms and fluttered to the floor. Her bra and panties were purple as well, utilitarian, but damn sexy nonetheless. Eric admired the way his mother's full ass filled her panties, how one pale cheek was mostly exposed as the fabric had ridden up. He wanted her to turn, to show off those tremendous breasts trapped within the purple prison, but he was afraid she would see him if she did...

...and then suddenly her hands were behind her, fumbling with the clasp of the bra. Eric's heart stopped beating. His hand slid unconsciously under the waistband of his shorts to lightly touch his hardness.

There came a snap that echoed across the bedroom. The bra fell away from Christina's chest, and now he DID wish he could see the mirror. He watched in fascination as her hands slid down her belly and fluttered as they approached her panties. He wondered what might happen next. Something in the curve of her back, the set of her shoulders, told Eric that she was considering something.

But then she turned. Eric retreated quickly, as quietly as possible, but even so he saw a flash of a delicious pink nipple at the tip of the full curvature of an immense and beautiful milky white breast. Just a glimpse, but it burned itself into his retina, into his mind and memory. His cock squirted precum into his boxers and he closed his eyes, savoring the glimpse, savoring the moment.

He heard his mother moving into her bathroom, sensed the door closing, and a few moments later, heard the water start.

Eric slunk away, back down the hall. He briefly considered ducking into his room to jack off, but decided against it. He had to get those steaks cooking, and he'd pushed his luck far enough already.

Eric threw some salt and a little pepper on the steaks to season them, fired up the grill, and threw the meat on the rack. He thought about the too brief summers in North Dakota, and grilling in the backyard of the old house, cooking for his mother and himself. He'd picked up the skill early, mostly on his own, although his father did offer pointers now and then. Not that the old man let Eric near his own grill, but one of the few things he was good for was advice on cooking.

He thought about the old man's offer, to work the summer at the hardware store. Money in his pocket would be no mean thing, and he would need cash for textbooks and such at college, but he knew his mother wanted him to spend the summer out west with her. And that she could probably afford to pay for his school books, too. But it would probably be a lonely summer, away from his friends, in a foreign land. Maybe he should take the car at least one day on his vacation, see the sights, get the lay of the land.

The smell of cooking meat brought him back to himself. He was in danger of burning something. Eric quickly got things under control.

Just then the back door opened, and Christina glided on to the patio, carrying a glass of juice in one hand and a beer in the other. Eric's eyes widened once more as they drank in his mother's lovely form. She wore a pair of tiny khaki shorts and a bight red bikini top, and aside from some wedge-heeled sandals, nothing else.

Eric's mouth dropped open automatically. Her short red hair, still damp from the shower, was held up with a thick red headband. Her bikini was tiny, just two small wedges of sheer fabric suspended by a few strips of string tied behind Christina's neck and back. The suit offered no support, which caused Christina's heavy breasts to swing freely on her chest. Her skin was flawless, without flaw or blemish, creamy and perfect. Her breasts were large and pendulous, milky white in color, beginning to shade to a ruddy pink as Eric's gaze lingered. Eric knew that his mother was well endowed, but knowing that, and seeing her breasts virtually naked, were quite different things. He was literally stunned. His mother's matronly, full, massive breasts were the most spectacular pair of tits he had ever seen, in real life or in pictures. They were so spectacular that he couldn't help but think of them as "tits."

Eric's brain suddenly stuttered back to life as his mother, blushing furiously but smiling broadly, handed him the beer. He took it, wondering at her dress, and wondering at the gesture. "Um, Mom...?"

"You are the man of the house when you are here, sweetie-bear," Christina said. "And with that role comes certain responsibilities," and here she gestured at the grill, "as well as certain privileges, such as a beer every now and then."

She raised the juice to her lips and took a sip. Eric mimicked the gesture, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer. He tried to keep his eyes on his mother's face, but they kept drifting downward. She didn't protest, but she did get redder. It was cute, actually, even if the whole situation left Eric completely bewildered.

Christina stepped up close to Eric and hugged him. The ice in her drink clinked against the glass, and her huge breasts pressed and flattened against his chest. He wished he wasn't wearing a shirt, wished he could feel her skin against his own. Her subtle perfume enveloped him, something sweet and flowery he couldn't identify, but was as familiar to him as his own scent. Eric couldn't help the response between his legs, either, and hoped she couldn't sense the sudden stiffness growing there.

Christina's cheek touched his. "It's so nice to have you home with me," she whispered huskily into his ear. "I've missed having my sweetie-bear around." Eric felt her knee and thigh rub up against his own, lifting the bottom edge of his loose athletic shorts. Unconsciously his free hand slid down her smooth back and across her left buttock. He almost gripped and squeezed.

Christina pulled back a bit. Her face was very close, her eyes looking directly into his own. Eric could see himself reflected in those blue depths, and he felt his mother's love for him. And something else, something unfamiliar in her eyes, something primal and animal-like. Her lips hovered only a few inches from his own, parted, her breath coming in short puffs that tasted of the alcohol she mixed into her drink.

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, gazing into one another's eyes, breathing in the other's breath, arms locked around one another. Neither one appeared willing to break the spell. Eric, out of sheer terror, and his mother, out of reluctance, maybe, or something else, something he couldn't quite define.

Eric and his mother were brought crashing back down to Earth as the rumble of a car engine echoed from the driveway. Christina released him suddenly, stepping backward, eyes looking away from her son. That gave Eric another moment to admire her swaying breasts in their tiny suit top.

Car doors slammed, voices rose from around the side of the house, and a moment later, Tom and Alice appeared. Christina swirled past Eric and the grill to welcome their guests.

Eric felt a sudden fierce stab of jealousy when he saw Tom clearly checking his mother out, with that insufferable smirk of his, but he quickly quashed it when he found himself doing the same to Mrs. Park.

Tom had changed into another Star Wars t-shirt and blue swim trunks and flip flops. Blue-tinted sunglasses were up on his head, not hiding where his eyes were going. Tom had a towel in one hand and a paper bag with a loaf of bread in the other.

Mrs. Park – Alice, she'd told Eric to call her – wore a thigh length, loosely belted orange robe, almost see-through, and under that an abbreviated red and orange string bikini that looked as delicate as spider silk. Like Christina's, the top was just a pair of tiny triangles covering her nipples, exposing almost the entirety of Alice's own large and delectable, golden breasts. She had a smooth belly, narrow waist, and tiny bottoms that fit snugly between her thighs. Eric tried not to stare, but he was sure he saw camel toe. Alice's long, sultry legs were bare, and she wore a golden anklet around her left ankle, and strappy high heeled sandals that made her look slightly taller than her son. Thick black sunglasses like insect eyes covered half her face, but she smiled broadly at Christina and held her arms out.

The two busty women embraced briefly. Tom and Eric stopped breathing to admire the sight. Alice seemed to whisper something to Christina, who answered only with a small smile.

"Well hello there, Eric," Alice said, heels clicking on the patio. "Nice to see you again."

"You too, Mrs. Park," Eric said, but when her full lips twisted into a frown, he quickly amended "Alice," which earned him a smile.

Alice flipped her sunglasses up, holding her long hair back from her face. "Sorry we're late, we stopped at the store to grab a few things."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Christina said. She took the bread, however, as well as whatever was in the bag Alice carried, and the two sexy mothers sauntered into the house.

Both sons watched them go, neither saying a word. When the back door clicked shut, Tom turned to Eric and said, "See what I mean?"

Eric could only think of the way his mother's full tits felt against his chest. "Yeah," he said softly.

There was a long pause. "So," Tom said, "hey, you have another one of those for me?" He pointed at the beer.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know." He turned to the grill to look after the meat.

Tom watched him, a little puzzled. "You okay, man? You look a little spacey."

"Do I?" Eric mumbled. Something in his brain clicked. He blinked, almost shook himself. He looked directly at Tom, focusing on him. "Sorry. Weird day. When my mom comes back out, I'll ask if you can have a beer too. I bet it will be okay."

Tom nodded. "Cool."

As it turned out, it was okay. Christina and Alice reappeared shortly with sliced bread, butter, a spinach salad, some zucchini which Eric threw on the grill, a bottle of wine, glasses, and a beer for Tom. Everyone hovered around the grill and the picnic table while Eric cooked.

Tom sat down at the table, and a few minutes later Alice followed suit, settling in very close to her son. Christina poured Alice a glass of wine, sipped from her glass of doctored juice, and disappeared back into the house a few times, always returning with something. Plates, utensils, napkins, salt and pepper.

Eric checked the steaks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tom wrap an arm around Alice's waist. Tom's hand settled on his mother's hip, his long fingered hands touching her exposed thigh. Eric watched as Tom's fingertips brushed lightly across his mother's skin in concentric circles.

Eric quickly turned back to the grill as the implication of Tom's action hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Steaks are done," Eric said. His voice shook a little. "I did yours medium rare," he said to Tom and Alice, "not sure what you would have preferred." His own was rare and bloody, while Christina's was well done, the way his mother preferred.

"Oh, perfect," Alice said, "thank you." Tom looked about to say something, but his mother squeezed his thigh and he shut his mouth.

Christina beamed at her son. The table was laid, and everyone dug in with gusto. Eric sat across from Alice, while Christina settled in next to him, rather close. She patted his own thigh, her fingertips grazing his bare knee.

Alice and Christina dominated the conversation, talking about work. It bored Eric, but on the other hand, he was able to sneak looks at the delectable cleavage of two gorgeous cougars. And the way Alice's big tits bounced when she laughed, or how his mother's breasts swung back and forth as she cut into her meat.

Tom seemed similarly engaged. Eric and he met looks across the table. Tom had that insufferable smirk on his face. Eric wasn't sure what expression he was wearing, but he was sure he looked confused. He felt off-kilter, uncertain, like he was standing on thin ice. The wrong step would send him into a cold plunge. The beer wasn't helping. He was on his second bottle, and he'd started drinking on an empty stomach.

Occasionally as she ate, Christina's free hand would drop onto Eric's leg. The second or third time, her hand began to lightly run up and down his thigh. Eric could have moved the hand, could have shifted his seat, but he didn't. He sat there and ate his meal and enjoyed it.

When dinner was done, Christina stood up to clean up plates. Her tits practically fell out of her top, and they swung into Eric's shoulder as she reached across him to take his plate. Alice stood as well, made as if to help, but Christina waved her off. "Eric will help, you two are guests. Go enjoy the pool, we won't be long."

Tom acquiesced quickly, stripping off his shirt and kicking off his flip-flops. "Shouldn't you wait an hour, Thomas?" Alice said, but he ignored her and bounded into the pool. He leapt in with a huge splash. Alice shook her head, smiled at Eric and Christina, and moved to follow.

Alice took her wineglass with her after filling it, and sauntered over to the pool. She slipped off her barely modest robe, kicked off her shoes, and began to walk down the steps into the water. She gave a little shiver as the water rose over her calves that made certain parts of her anatomy do amazing things.

"Enjoying the view, Eric?" Christina said into his ear. Eric blushed, blinked and turned towards her, only to realize she was bending over again, her huge, heavy breasts hanging off her chest, swaying slightly.

"Urk," he said. Or maybe he said something less intelligent.

Christina giggled, and flicked the end of his nose with her forefinger. She straightened. "Help me bring these into the house."

Eric quickly complied, helping to clear the table and bring everything into the house. When the sink was filled with plates and the leftovers stored in the fridge, the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchen. Through the window over the sink, the two of them could see Tom and Alice frolicking in the pool.

"We were interrupted earlier," Christina said, looking very serious. And very beautiful. She stood very close to Eric, close enough that her scent filled his nostrils. The hairs on his arms stood on end, and the hairs on the back his neck followed. Christina stepped closer.

Eric tasted the wine on her breath before he tasted the wine on her lips. Her full lips pressed against his, lightly, then gradually with more force. Her mouth opened slightly, the tip of her tongue probed against his lips, and he let his own mouth open, his own tongue reach out, tasting her, feeling her. Her tongue retreated, and his tongue followed, into her mouth, to twist and wrestle and play.

Eric's hands touched Christina's bare lower back and slid lower, cupping her large, luscious ass. His mind whirled. He felt light-headed, and more drunk than two beers should make him. What was happening to him?