tagIncest/TabooHome Movies: After School Special

Home Movies: After School Special


An Oedipus County Tale

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. It's all pretend, folks.

This story follows on from, in order, "The Porntastic Adventure" and "Home Movies." Hopefully it's not necessary to read them to understand this one, but completists may want to know the correct order.


A gas leak down the block liberated Tracy Wilson from her day at the office. The call came in shortly before lunch, letting everyone know that the whole block had to clear out while the city worked on fixing the problem.

"This is such bullshit," Tracy said to Margery Gale, the other secretary in the office as they packed up to go. "I have a ton of paperwork to get through for the Richmond case. Jan wanted it done by the end of the day." Said Richmond case made Tracy think of her sister Tanya, who was having difficulties with her own husband. The last time they had talked on the phone, Tanya had brought up the dreaded "d" word.

Margie, an older African American woman with long, gray braided hair, merely chuckled. "Sweetie, let it go. No sense in worrying about something you can't do anything about. Look at this as a free day off. Go enjoy yourself for once." Margie's dark eyes glinted behind her glasses. "Go see that mysterious young man of yours and have a good time."

Tracy blushed slightly. The "mysterious young man" to which Margie referred was Tracy's secret, but Tracy had let slip enough around the office that the other women knew about her younger, virile lover. And how much satisfaction Tracy got from him.

Thoughts of that young man made Tracy's nipples involuntarily harden and her pussy lips begin to moisten. She couldn't help it. He just did that to her. Tracy forced a chuckle to hide her awkwardness and arousal. "I suppose you're right," Tracy said. An unconscious smile tugged at her full lips.

Margie laughed as well, "I will see you tomorrow, girl, and I expect to hear some of the details this time." With a swirl of her skirt and the rattle of her braids, Margie headed for the door.

Tracy shuffled some papers on her desk, thinking quietly to herself. She grabbed her bag and her laptop, as well as a few files. Tracy found herself wondering about Andy's class schedule for the day, and whether he might have some time in the afternoon for her. Then her lips curled up into a sultry little grin.

She pulled out her phone, leaned against her desk, and undid the top three buttons of her white blouse. She pulled the fabric apart, revealing an acre of creamy cleavage. She smoothed her tight, light gray skirt against her hips and legs and leaned forward, taking a selfie that caught her from the neck down and focused on her large, delectable tits, framed by the crisp white shirt and the curling ends of her long brown hair.

She forwarded the picture off to Andy, with the message "Office is closed for the day. Do you have time to get something to eat? And after that, some lunch?"

Tracy chuckled throatily to herself. She scooped up her bags and headed out the door to her car.


The college classroom was chilly on this mild spring day, as conditioned air pumped through the building, and the combination resulted in a great many female students in halter tops and t-shirts displaying hardened nipples. But Andy Wilson really only had eyes for the professor.

Dr. Sydney Kincaid held court in Anthropology 101. She was a tall, attractive woman in her late thirties, with long black hair, pretty green eyes, and an hourglass figure that she generally dressed modestly. She wore thick rimmed glasses and appeared to favor silver jewelry and minimal makeup, but she was pretty damn hot in Andy's estimation. Of course, he had a thing for older women.

And right now, she was discussing a topic near and dear to Andy's twisted heart, and he couldn't help the flush that came to his cheeks or the stiffening occurring in his khaki shorts.

The words "Cannibalism" and "Incest" were written beneath the heading "Taboos" on the whiteboard at the front of the class, and it was the second word that fascinated Andy.

Andy felt a throbbing at his hip, which startled him for a half a second, until he realized it was his phone. Someone sending him a text. The strawberry blonde next to him, Lucy, shot him a disapproving look, as if it was his fault for the interruption. He just shrugged and returned his attention to front of the room.

"Another universally proscribed behavior in human society is incest," Dr. Kincaid said, one hand holding a black marker, the other planted casually on her curvy hip. "We are a naturally exogamous species, although our closest relatives, chimpanzees and bonobos, are not so particular with their partners.

"While different societies define incest in different ways, the general consensus appears to be avoidance of the immediate family at the very least, with widening circles of proscribed partners varying from culture to culture. Even in the United States, as much as a century ago, it wasn't unusual for cousins to get married."

There was a chorus of "ews" from the class, which caused Dr. Kincaid's full lips to quirk up in a smile.

"Now, basic animal husbandry and even isolated incidents like the blue people of Kentucky show why inbreeding is a bad idea. And humans naturally gravitate towards avoiding it. Even in places where people are not genetically related, such as on Jewish kibbutzes where children were raised communally, people will go outside their group to select sexual partners."

The professor turned to the whiteboard, giving Andy and everyone else a good look at her impressively rounded backside in her long skirt, and quickly wrote the words "genetic sexual attraction."

"Now," she said, turning back to the class, "the flip side to this phenomenon is something observed in certain, rare cases. When siblings or even children and parents have been separated at birth but later meet as adults, they can sometimes feel an intense connection to one another that may end up being expressed through a sexual relationship. Even then, however, when those involved become aware of their true relation, the instinct towards incest aversion kicks in." She paused, tapping her marker against her lips. "Usually," she added, almost to herself.

So where does that put me? Andy wondered. He had knowingly, without horror or regret, entered into a sexual relationship with his own mother. And she had raised him since birth. True, he had always found her attractive, but he had never really found her sexually desirable until he accidentally discovered her former, brief career in porn films. That had led to an obsession, a need to collect copies of her films and magazine shoots and other material to fuel twisted masturbation sessions until the fateful day when his mother discovered his stash of taboo material and made his perverted dreams a reality.

A redheaded kid near the front row, raised a hand. "Didn't ancient Egyptians marry their sisters?"

Dr. Kincaid chuckled. "That's right, John," she said. "But it's anyone's guess whether those relationships were ever consummated. On the one hand, there's evidence of congenital defects amongst some Pharaonic mummies that may indicate inbreeding, but historical records generally show that marriages in the ancient world between siblings were largely ceremonial in nature."

Inbreeding. Why did the idea of impregnating his mother give Andy the hardest erection? It was sick and wrong, even by his standards. Good thing Tracy had her tubes tied when Andy was just a kid.

"I see by the clock that our time is up for today. I'll see everyone on Friday," Dr. Kincaid said, snapping Andy out of his reverie. How long had he been daydreaming?

While everyone else filed out, talking and checking their phones and what not, Andy fiddled with his books and notebook at his seat, waiting for his erection to subside. When he felt capable, he rose smoothly and headed out of the building.

A warm, sunshiney spring day greeted him, not a cloud in the sky, a cool breeze blowing.

Just as Andy dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check his messages, the girl who sat next to him in class sidled up, clutching her books to her impressive, halter-top clad bosom.

"Andy, I had a question for you," she started to say, just as Andy opened up the text waiting for him, realized belatedly that it was from his mother, and he probably should have waited. The image of his mother's cleavage, displayed within her crisp white blouse, filled the phone, but Andy was able to quickly obscure it before the message or its author became visible.

"Whoah," Lucy said, then recovered herself. "Sorry, didn't mean to look." She was blushing.

Andy felt heat on his cheeks as well. "No worries," he said awkwardly. "What was it you needed?"

"Oh, right, yeah," Lucy said. She smiled. She had pretty pink lips, a cute button nose, and dark brown eyes beneath pale brows. Not tall, she was pretty or cute rather than beautiful, and anyone who didn't regularly spend time exploring the wonders of Tracy Wilson's body would have been happy to get a tour of Lucy's well-formed frame.

Lucy was also nice, and smart, and could occasionally be funny or at least appreciate one of Andy's rare jokes. They didn't talk often, but they shared two classes; Anthro 101 with Dr. Kincaid and Economics 203 with Professor Watanabe. At the moment, though, Andy was mostly annoyed with the girl - or maybe himself, for letting her catch him with his guard down and view an intimate message from his mother.

"The econ mid-term on Friday," Lucy was saying, "I'm just a little worried about it. That class is kind of kicking my ass. I was thinking of getting a study group together or whatever tonight or tomorrow night. You interested?"

Andy thought a moment. He was actually doing pretty well in that class, but it probably behooved him to help Lucy out if she was having trouble. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said. "Let me think... tomorrow night should work."

"Okay, cool," Lucy beamed.

Just then, over the blonde girl's shoulder, Andy caught sight of his mother. She was walking toward them, hips rolling enticingly in her modest heels, her white blouse more buttoned up than in the picture, but open enough to suggest a casual rather than business attitude. She had a chunky pocketbook over one shoulder, and her long, chocolate brown hair hung loose in waves down her back. Tracy smiled, noticing her son, and raised a hand to wave.

Lucy noticed Andy looking over her shoulder and turned to look. She made an odd sound and then smiled at Andy. "Is that...?" she said.

"My, uh, my girlfriend," Andy said, stumbling, almost using the "m" word.

"She's pretty gorgeous," Lucy said quietly, as if to herself.

She wasn't wrong. Tracy Wilson was quite a looker, even on the other side of forty. Tall, well proportioned, with flawless pale skin, lustrous dark hair, and a beautiful face marked by high cheekbones, dark intelligent eyes, and full kissable lips, she could have easily been a model instead of a legal secretary. She dressed well, and while her business attire did not accentuate her impressive bust, nipped in waist, and broad hips, they didn't exactly hide them, either.

"Hi, Tracy," Andy said in greeting as his mother approached. She responded with a raised eyebrow and a little cock to her head.

"Hello, baby," she said, gliding towards them. She casually looped an arm around Andy's waist in a half-embrace and grazed her lips against his cheek. She regarded Lucy a bit coolly. "I'm Tracy," she said.

Lucy held out a hand in greeting. "Lucy," she said. "I was just leaving."

"Nice to meet you," Tracy said graciously, as the younger woman all but sped off. Tracy smirked and shook her head. "What was that about?"

"We share a few classes," Andy said. "She wants to study with me for the econ mid-term on Friday."

"Does she now?" Tracy said. There was a weird note in her voice and she didn't look at Andy, instead focusing on the retreating Lucy.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Andy said. "You almost sound jealous. Which is silly, because you have nothing to be jealous about."

Tracy threaded her fingers through her son's and squeezed. "It would probably be better if I did," she said quietly.

"Maybe," Andy said noncommittally. He and his mother hadn't had the argument about him dating other women in a while, and he didn't feel like starting it now. She was usually in the pro camp, and he was usually arguing for the con, but it never really went anywhere, except that it usually upset them both.

"Not that I'm sorry to see you, but what brings you to campus?"

"Didn't you get my text?"

Andy blushed slightly. He had his mother's dark hair and eyes and pale skin, and he had a tendency to turn red easily. "I didn't have a chance to read it. I opened it just as Lucy started talking to me, and she saw your picture. Though not who sent it, I think."

"Ah-hah. And that's why I'm your 'girlfriend.'"

"You are my girlfriend," Andy said, even though that could trigger the dating argument. Belying his words, he carefully extricated his hand from his mother's grip. He had friends on campus who knew the true basis, if not the nature, of their relationship, and he couldn't be blatant about his lust for her.

Still, Tracy suddenly smiled broadly, winningly, her eyes alight. "That's nice to hear," she said softly. Louder, she added, "The office is closed for the day. I thought we might get some lunch."

"Yeah, okay, I don't have another class for a while. That sounds great."

Tracy leaned in closer, her scent filling her son's nostrils, and said, "I also brought the camera."

Goosebumps erupted along Andy's forearms and he felt a frisson of lust travel down his spine. The crotch of his shorts tightened involuntarily. "Really?" he said, matching Tracy's soft tone. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know," Tracy said, leaning back with a girlish giggle. That usually meant she had something good planned. She enjoyed her role as the director of their little home movies. "Do you think you might be able to find an empty classroom? With a door that locks?"

Andy still wasn't entirely sure what his mother had in mind, but he knew it would be fun. "I think that's possible. Let's go take a look."


Andy brought them across campus, trying to avoid groups of people and definitely anyone he knew. He didn't want to answer any awkward questions, in case in he ran into someone who knew both him and his mother. But he was pretty sure that the math building would be virtually empty at this time of day, and the lust-tinged love he had for his mother wanted to see what she had planned.

On the third floor of the math building, they found an empty classroom. The other good thing about the math building was that it was one of the older ones on campus. Instead of whiteboards and markers, plastic and metal, the math building had old school blackboards with chalk, and warm golden wooden framing, a scattering of old style desks, and wall to wall rugs. It wouldn't exactly be soundproof, but it would absorb more noise than classrooms in a more "modern" style.

While Andy closed and locked the two access doors and pulled the blinds, Tracy reached into her purse and pulled out a hair tie, which she proceeded to use to pull her long, chocolate brown hair into a severe ponytail. She also produced her reading glasses and settled them on her nose. Adjusting her blouse to show off her epic cleavage completed her "costume."

She pulled some books out of Andy's backpack and set them on the heavy wooden desk at the front of the room. She also took out one of his notebooks and a few pens and spread them across the desk. She fiddled with one pen, tucking it behind an ear for a moment, before setting on the desk with the others.

After a few hurried instructions, she handed Andy the camera and waited for him to sit down.

Andy grinned, adjusted his own glasses, and settled in to one of the desks in the front row. He fired up the camera and pointed it at his mother as she settled into her own seat behind the desk. She smiled and gave him a salacious wink.

"Mr. Wilson," she began, looking at him haughtily through her glasses, "I asked you to stay late today to talk about a very serious issue."

"What would that be, Mrs., um, Smith?" Andy half-mumbled, tripping over his tongue. He still wasn't used to improvisation, but his mother certainly inspired him to give it the old college try.

Tracy's eyes tightened a bit and she suppressed a smile. "Your football career hangs by a thread, Mr. Wilson?"

"My... football... okay, yeah, alright. My football career. What about it?"

Tracy affected a huge sigh, which made her big tits jiggle on her chest, the wide opening at the top of her blouse facilitating the view. "And thus the crux of the problem, Andrew. You are failing this class. And if you fail, that will be enough to cripple your GPA and send you to the bench for the rest of the year. Is that something you want to happen, Mr. Wilson?"

Andy tried to suppress his own amusement at the image of himself as a bulky footballer. "No, that is not something I want to happen," he said after a moment, mostly managing not to laugh.

"Good," Tracy said. She stood up, her hands gliding down her sides to smooth her skirt as she stepped around her desk. Andy followed her every movement with the camera. He gestured for her to pause so that he could pan up and down and really take in her phenomenal figure. This time, Tracy couldn't hide a smile and added a shake of her head for emphasis. Luckily, that was during the pan downward, when the camera focused on her luscious thighs and strong calves and the low heels that added just enough definition to her legs.

"One thing I have noticed, Andrew," Tracy continued, taking a few steps towards her seated son and faux student, "is that your tests are consistently horrible, but your homework is not. You are incapable of focusing on your studies in the classroom, but you can write an adequate paper at home. You are capable of passing this class if you apply yourself. So why don't you? What is the problem?"

Tracy leaned forward slightly, her hands braced on her hips, allowing her breasts to thrust towards the camera. Andy resisted the urge to zoom in on her cleavage, instead just focusing on her upper body.

"Uh," he said. "I get distracted sometimes."

"Distracted?" Tracy said, unable to keep from grinning. "Whatever do you mean? Distracted by what?"

"By you, Mrs. Jones!" Andy said.

"Smith," Tracy whispered.

"By you, Mrs. Smith!" Andy said, louder. He was forced to pause the camera as Tracy immediately started laughing. "Oh, Andy," she said affectionately, taking her glasses off and wiping at her eyes. "You will never be an actor, will you?"

Andy shrugged, his cheeks burning and feeling a little self-conscious. "Maybe not, but I'm having fun."

Tracy glided towards him and kissed him quickly on the lips. "I am, too, baby. Mommy is just teasing a little." She kissed him again, longer this time, lingering a little, poking at him with her tongue.

She stepped back, put her hands on her hips and leaned forward slightly again. "About here?" she asked. Andy nodded. She gestured at him with her chin and he started the camera again.

"Distracted by what?" Tracy asked. She put a little more oomph into it this time, twisting her midsection to make her big boobs jiggle and cleavage dance for the camera.

"By you, Mrs. Smith!" Andy said. He almost said "Jones" again but caught himself at the last second. He hoped that she didn't notice his little hiccough.

Tracy laid a long fingered hand across her bosom. "By me? But I don't -?" She paused, her fingers tracing a line across the top of her left breast. "I see. You like my big boobs, then? And the way my collar always happens to be open just so, showing off my cleavage?"

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bydellagordo© 6 comments/ 56866 views/ 67 favorites

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