Master of the House

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.

Son masquerades in Dad's costume to fuck unsuspecting Mother.

NOTE 1: This revision of a 2018 revision - now illustrated.

NOTE 2: A special thanks goes to Estragon for his copy editing work in 2011! A massive rewrite occurred in Dec 2018 by Tex Beethoven. And now in 2023, some more editing plus illustrations by Tex Beethoven

MASTER OF THE HOUSE

Until I began reading stories on Literotica, I had no idea how many sons had fantasies... or sometimes even realities... about having sex with their Mothers. It isn't really a conversation a guy might have with his buddies. Imagine this:

"Dude, you know who I'd really like to fuck?"

"Anyone who moves, I imagine."

"True. But do you know who's the most frequent inspiration for my daily stroke-fest sessions?"

"Beth, the head cheerleader?"

"She's in the top five, for sure, but she's not number one."

"Well, who would be number one then?"

"Promise you won't judge me?"

"Sure! You do some crazy shit, and so do I."

"Seriously, this is really embarrassing."

"Fine. I promise not to ridicule you too badly."

"My Mom."

"That's not so bad. I was expecting Big Bertha, or Old Woman Burgess. First, your Mom is ridiculously hot! And second, I've stroked about my Mom lots of times."

"You have?"

"Of course. And my Mom is nowhere as hot as yours."

"So it doesn't make me a freak?"

"Oh, it makes you a freak all right. It even makes you a perverted little freak. But hey, at our age, every guy is a perverted little freak. Christ, even Hamlet was supposed to have had a thing for his Mother. Remember the Ophelia song? 'Ah, ah, when I was young, I, I should've known better.' He's got to be singing about his Mom!"

......

Anyway, the point is simple. The older I got, the more obsessed I became with the thought of sleeping with my Mother. My fantasies shifted from cheerleaders and hot blondes to my forty-three-year-old, blue-eyed, chestnut-brown-haired Mother with her big tits.

As far as calming me down, she wasn't any help either. She was a real estate agent, and she always dressed in skirts, hose and heels. All three of which had become fetishes of mine, probably because I'd grown up seeing them worn by the hottest woman I knew. I was sixteen when I started giving my Mom foot massages after a hard day at work. She always kept her stockings on, so my cock always rose whenever her stocking-clad legs were resting in my lap. She had to know what it was doing to me, but she never let on. And it never progressed any further than a son giving his Mother a respectful foot massage. At least not outside my own fevered brain.

Forty-three is considered middle age, but Mom knew she was still hot. She flirted with my friends, and she loved the compliments they threw back at her. She was a MILF, and she knew it, even revelled in it. That said, I never thought I'd ever have the chance to do more than just her feet...but then that Halloween happened.

Every Halloween, my parents got dressed up as a sexy matching couple and go to some fancy party. (Mom was sexy anyway; but speaking as a hetero guy, I don't think there's anything a man can do to look sexy.) Every year I could see their excitement growing for the big day; Mom's creative juices always came alive for Halloween. She always designed and made their two costumes, often starting months in advance. I can't recall all the outfits, but I do remember a few recent ones:

-Bonnie and Clyde, with Mom dressed as a hot flapper. (Mom looked stunning in fishnets and a cute bob haircut, with her toy tommy gun and an evil grin, ready to shoot someone's balls off.)

-Fred and Wilma Flintstone, which had my dick thinking Bam Bam all night. (Mom as Wilma, with her tattered neck-and hemlines, with almost a nipple, and almost her naughty bits showing, was memorialised in a photo still hidden under my bed for stroke sessions.)

-Her fifties icons Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. (I also have a picture of her wearing that outfit hidden away for playtime.)

-And last year she was Princess Leia, while Dad was Luke Skywalker. (Her diaphanous, almost transparent white dress with no underwear that year, kept my light sabre erect for months!)

This year they were going as Beauty and the Beast. As always, Mom refused to reveal her costume to anyone until Halloween Eve (if that phrase isn't redundant).

I've always been a believer in whichever you'd like to call it... destiny or fate. And it could only have been through destiny that the dominos could have tumbled the way they did... giving me the perfect opportunity to fuck my Mother, and live to tell the tale. (But only to you, since as far as you know, my Mom and I could be anyone at all, living in either the United States or Canada. I don't kiss and go around shooting my mouth off if there's the slightest chance of any repercussions.)

First off, my Dad phoned at five o'clock to tell Mom that due to some late bargaining (Dad is a high-powered mediator... the guy you hire to negotiate the treaties for long-standing feuds), he wasn't going to make it home in time, although he might get home early enough to throw on his costume, and join her at the party later on. Mom was furious, because this was the night she always looked forward to every year, and she'd invested hours upon hours into making the costumes perfect. Although she was angry at Dad, she still planned to stomp out the door and attend the party, and she'd make the best of the state of affairs that she could.

A couple hours later, seven o'clock, Mom came downstairs wearing her Belle costume, making my cock want to be her guest (if you know that song).

I've always thought Belle was the hottest cartoon character, the same way I think Betty is easily the hottest comic strip Archie girl. But seeing my Mom dressed as Belle in a short dress with an ornamental lace train displaying a generous expanse of her flawless upper chest, although nothing quite illegal, her straight hair the same shade of chestnut as Belle's, plus dark blue stockings, was the sexiest moment of my young life.

So I did what I always did whenever I was alone with Mom: I complimented her. "Wow, Mom! You could be a real-life Belle. This is your best costume yet!"

"You think so?" she asked, smiling and posing seductively.

"I know so. Dad would have loved it."

Her smile faded. "I can't believe he ditched me for a transportation union, of all things."

"I'm sure he'll get back soon."

She shrugged and snorted, "He'd better!' But then she relented and told me, "But it's not your fault, honey. It was sweet of you to say something that nice and supportive." She gave me a kiss on the cheek, and let me kiss hers like she always did, and she was off, leaving me standing there in a cloud of testosterone mist.

All the stars were lining up perfectly that night, even though I didn't know it yet. Even my being home in the first place, was because of a string of well-planned (well-planned by someone up there) 'coincidental' moments. Usually after seeing my parents off (not ever wanting to miss how my Mom would look that year), I'd usually leave for a different Halloween party with people my own age, but this year, I didn't feel like it. I'd been dumped a couple weeks earlier by my girlfriend of eight months Pamela, and I really didn't want to see her there. So I was watching the 1978 'Halloween' movie for the umpteenth time, when the phone rang again.

"Is your Mom still home?" Dad asked nervously.

"She left an hour ago."

"Shit!" he swore, "was she angry?"

"Think PMS cubed, and you may be close," I warned.

"Double shit!" he cursed. "I called her cell, and she didn't answer."

I went into the kitchen and saw her phone sitting in the charger. "She couldn't. It's right here, being charged."

"Triple shit!" he swore, knowing he was indeed wading through deep shit. After a pause, "Then can you leave her a note? This negotiation is going to be an all-nighter."

"Shit!" I parroted, which earned me a nervous chuckle from Dad.

Mom was sexy and caring, but we never wanted to get on her bad side.

"I'd better get her some flowers," he rationalized. I noticed an address on a pad of paper in my Mom's handwriting, and I assumed that was so I could tell Dad where she was.

"You'd better get her a whole garden. This year's costume is her best yet!"

We said our goodbyes, and I returned to watching TV. Then about ten minutes later, a light bulb flickered on in my head. A few seconds after that, and the bulb was shining as bright as the sun!

I dashed upstairs and into my parents' room. Laid out on the bed was Dad's Beast costume.

I stripped to my undershorts and put it on, and I was pleased by how comfortable it was. Apparently the peasants in Medieval France dressed similarly to the nobility, except that the quality of the nobility's clothing was far superior. The outfit also came with a featureless leather mask, which I donned. No one would have a clue it was me! I was the same height as my father; I had the same amber-coloured eyes as my father; I even had the same red hair and voice as my father. I went downstairs, snatched up the address, jumped into Dad's Mercedes (the first thing a good negotiator negotiates is his considerable fee), and sped off to the party.

I arrived at the party a few minutes after nine-thirty, and while I was walking towards the porch, the hostess Gloria came out the front door to greet me. She was dressed in a fairy costume, featuring wings, a deep scoop neckline, and some eye-catching sheer panels. Her face brightened as I approached. In her usual giddy voice, she said, "If Alexis is Belle, then you must be Ted. Thank God you're here! Your wife is really mad at you!"

"I know," I acknowledged, "That's why I hightailed it over here just as soon as I got home."

"She's had a few glasses of wine, and you know how she gets once she's into her wine," she warned me with a wink.

Recalling the few times I'd seen my Mom intoxicated... usually on New Year's Eve... I remembered her getting extra touchy feely and very flirty, even with me. So Gloria's innuendo wasn't remotely subtle. I responded vaguely, "Tell me about it."

Once I joined her on the porch, she gave me a flirtatious grin and said, "Before you go inside, you have to give me a kiss. Since none of our kids are here, we're being extra friendly with each other tonight. You may think of me as a toll booth with benefits."

Since Gloria was one of my regular MILF stroke fantasies, I certainly had no objections to paying her toll.

She then took my hand and led me into her house, and downstairs into her party room. There were only a handful of people down there, and all of them except for me were women. I recognized all of them from various of my parents' gatherings. Except tonight's dress code wasn't like my parents' parties! It seemed to be a sexy Disney Princess theme party, with each sexy MILF costume more outrageous than the rest. For instance, the dark-skinned Elma, who worked in real estate with my Mom, was ridiculously hot, and she came as a belly dancer. She had bright blue hair, and was wearing a harem girl outfit made of diaphanous material, through which, even without much light, I could see her milk chocolate skin.

Mom's assistant, the short and plump but very pretty Cassidy, was wearing what she was calling a Cinderella costume, but was more of a grape-coloured ballroom gown with slits on both sides up to her waist. Her blonde wig really brought out her blue eyes and dimples. Nice legs! No evidence on her exposed hips of her wearing panties.

My Dad's partner's spouse, a trophy wife twenty years younger than he was, was dressed as Ariel, complete with mermaid non-legs and everything, so whenever she needed to go anywhere she needed to be carried by someone or other, a service she rewarded with wet kisses. Her tentacle olive green hair, hypnotic green eyes, and bright green lipstick stood out even more in her mermaid costume. But her upper body was best: it was covered only by a tiny, flimsy bra, which kept no secrets.

Everywhere I looked were reasons for my dick to get so stiff that I desperately wanted to give it some attention. My Dad's best friend's wife Katie was dressed as Sleeping Beauty. She looked incredibly peaceful, appearing to be sleeping in her sleep-rumpled babydoll nighty costume... unless she'd been doing something else in bed for the past hundred years. I thought it would be neat if thorny Prince Phillip kissed awake an Aurora who was already two thirds of the way towards delivering a baby, when he made her his bride! Could that baby become the crown prince, or would he be known as His Highness the Royal Bastard? The implications were like a farcical Disney soap opera!

Then I encountered my Mom and Ellie. She'd been my Mom's college roommate way back when, and she was now teaching high school. Mom told me later that Ellie was dressed as a 'shy nudist', which I guess explained why half of her dress was missing, and the rest of it was great... or at least it was great if you enjoyed looking through as opposed to around fabric, which I certainly did. Whenever Mom and Ellie got together, they were incredibly touchy feely, and I'd enjoyed many a stroke fantasy while picturing their playtime back in college, munching on each other's cunts. They always brought out the worst in each other... talking like drunken sailors and hinting at a time when they'd been really crazy. Right now my Mom, still in her fucking hot Belle costume... except now it was even hotter, because somehow her bodice had totally disappeared!... she was sitting on Ellie's lap while they were kissing each other and giggling drunkenly. Her face was flushed in the same way Pamela's (my recent ex) always had been when she was horny from my fingering, licking, or fucking her pussy. I couldn't see where Ellie's left hand was, so I hoped my sick imaginings were being replicated right now.

Just then, one more sex object (at a party like this, objectifying was unavoidable) returned... probably from the bathroom. My mouth dropped. It was our locally famous weather girl Miranda Collington! Tonight she was dressed up like an ultra-sexy infernal creature... my guess was a succubus. She was dressed in all black, with black horns on her head, and skulls on her shoulders. Bra and panties that were see-through, and a corset that wasn't, and long stockings. Very much unlike her normal persona, she was sneering, which I guess she needed to do to match her wicked costume. I took one look at her, and my knees got weak.

Miranda had been the local weather girl since she was eighteen, back in 1988. She was famous for her long legs, which were always, and I mean always, in hosiery, which had been pretty common in the eighties, but was incredibly rare in 2011. Like my Mother, she was a constant but imaginary participant in my stroke sessions.

Distracted by the sight of Miranda, who stood out even in that sea of pulchritude, I barely noticed, when Gloria announced my arrival. "Ta-Dah! Cast your eyes upon the beastly man who's finally gracing us with his presence!"

Everyone looked up and I was greeted warmly, and in many cases flirtatiously. My Mom climbed off of the gorgeous Ellie and wobbled towards me. She fell into me, and hugged me tight. She slurred slightly, "You finally made it, shweetheart."

Attempting to sound just like my Father, I replied slyly, "Baby, I never planned on missing this. I got here just as soon as I could!"

She grabbed my hand and whispered into my ear, "You are sooooo lucky you showed up when you did. Ellie has gotten me so fucking horny!"

My cock flinched at hearing my MILF Mother talking so slutty, and confirming my long-held assumption and stroke fantasy about her and Ellie. Pushing the envelope, I asked, "How did she get you this horny, honey?"

Mom just shrugged. "You know how she gets."

Stunned but delighted by Mom's clingy attention, I asked, "So what's the plan now?"

Before my Mom could answer, and interrupting so many nasty possibilities spinning in my head, Gloria announced in a loud voice, "Charades time!"

Mom smiled and whispered, "I guess your blow job will have to wait." She gave a quick, subtle squeeze to my already stiff and eager cock, gave me a strange look, and wiggled away. She then sat back down in Ellie's lap and patted the couch next to her, indicating that I should join her. I obeyed like an obedient puppy dog, sitting down next to my Mom. I hemmed and hawed about whether I should place my hand on her silk-stockinged legs. But the decision was made for me a moment later, when Mom took my hand and placed it there herself! I'd touched and massaged her nylon feet many times, always fantasizing about my hands going all the way up her thighs, and now she'd just placed one there! It was happening! I just sat back, stroked my Mom's smooth, soft leg, and enjoyed the moment. With Ellie sucking her nipple and probably fingering her, she wasn't paying much attention to me, but I had her promise of at least a blow job later on, so I could be patient. And also, I couldn't believe she had her tits out for everyone to see... including me... and I couldn't stop myself from staring at them.

The game started, and it was couple against couple, although since I was the only 'spouse' in attendance, the couples were spur-of-the-moment ones. I watched vaguely as the other couples acted things out. When it was our turn, Gloria called me up and handed me a card displaying a quote: 'two heads are better than one.' I was happy to get an easy one. As soon as my time began, I went to work portraying a guy with two heads, and Mom quickly got it right.

My Mom slyly mentioned to the room, her tone dripping with sexual innuendo, "I've always thought two, or even three heads were better than one." Everyone laughed, and Mom winked at me. The wink, plus hearing my Mother use such an innuendo, made me want her even more.