Of Love and Lust

AN: ...Once more.

"See you later, babe." He pecks me on the lips and drives off.

Seconds later, my boyfriend disappears from my thoughts as I stand in front of the house I've lived in all my life; anxious and aroused.

It's 2am.

I was supposed to be home hours ago as per the agreement. Being late by a couple minutes would've been bad enough, but hours?

My heart races and my panties are soaked.

I don't even try to move silently as I walk up to the front door, stopping every other second.

Just open it, you bitch! This is what you've been waiting for all week.

Indeed. Now that the moment's here, I start thinking that maybe it wasn't the best idea... Not that it matters. I've thought that way after every stunt I've pulled the last few months.

Taking a deep breath, I needlessly mess with my keys and unlock the door, certain that the noise didn't go unnoticed.

"That you, Erin?" A voice calls from the living room. Lights bleed out into the hallway, no doubt from the T.V.

Okay. Here we go.

I try to calm my heart and work up a little courage.

"It's me, Dad." I say, entering the room.

He looks ruffled. Probably just woke up.

"You're late. What happened to your promise of nine o'clock?" My dad asks in a sleepy voice while rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry... I just..." Words escape my mouth, but my mind's somewhere else.

Where is she?

Upstairs? But no way she'd just leave him sleeping in front of the T.V.

"You don't have to worry about your mother." Dad says. He switches off the T.V and heads to the kitchen.

"I... I don't?" I ask, following after him.

"Nope." He downs a glass of water. "She got a call about work. Someone made mistakes and she has to clean it up, apparently."

"On a Friday night?"

My father looks at me confused. Must've noticed the slight frustration in my voice.

"You know how she is about work. But shouldn't this be good news for you?"

"I... Yes. Good news." I say, forcibly trying to calm down. "Great, in fact."

Staring at me for a few more seconds, he smiles. "Your lucky day, I guess. I won't breathe a word to her, so you should be safe."

"That is..." I quickly hide behind a fake smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"No problem. There's pizza in the fridge, but..."

For a moment he looks like he wants to say something else, but is conflicted.

A good five seconds later, he shakes his head.

"We'll talk tomorrow. Anyway, good night honey."

He disappears down the hallway.

"...night."

I should be worried by the resigned look on his face before he left, however my mind is far from that.

For a few minutes I just stand there, moping in annoyance and disappointment. Maybe it's better this way? Feeding into this sickness even more is fucked up. More fucked up than my eighteen-year-old brain already is.

I rub my thighs together and clench my teeth, enduring a sudden surge of horniness as I think about what could've been... exaggerating the possible outcomes. My mother will find out one way or another. It just would've been more... intense, if we had our bout tonight instead of tomorrow.

"Silver lining, I guess..."

If she had to go out, that means she had to have taken a bath beforehand. Cleanliness being one of her virtues. That being the case...

I make my way over to the stairs and listen.

Nothing.

Good. He's probably asleep.

I sneak upstairs, ignoring the mirror by the landing.

The bathroom light chases away the darkness and illuminates my prize.

"You need help."

Even as I uselessly berate myself, I still move toward the laundry bin, a slave to desire. My breathing and heart rate skyrockets and my body heats up.

There's probably a special place in hell for people like me. Perhaps I should be locked up somewhere...

It might not be too late...

I laugh at the last remnants of guilt my conscience tries to throw at me. Such trivial thoughts no longer sway me. I'm too far gone...

With my prize in hand, I rush towards my bedroom and lock the door. If anyone saw what I'm about to do... My father... My mother...

Oh yes... My mother...

I raise her panties to my face and breathe in deep, moaning in ecstasy as the faint odor of her pussy invades my nose. A little sour, feminine, raw... She must've worked out today.

It's impossible to grow tired of her smell. On the contrary, every whiff drives me more and more wild.

Falling onto the bed, I unceremoniously tear off my jeans and panties. I bite my lip, holding back a moan as I rub my mound, dragging my fingers through the drenched folds.

"Fuck..." I say, licking the juice from my fingers, imagining it belongs to my mother.

Rolling over, I grab last week's prize from under my pillow. Always two at a time that magically come and go. Maybe she hasn't noticed. Maybe she has.

I run the older panties across my wet pussy. Once. Twice. Then I stuff them into my mouth, relishing the taste.

The latest catch is held against my nose and my other hand moves across my small perky breasts, squeezing one gently, then the other.

Mom...

Electricity jumps from my erect nipples as I pinch them relentlessly.

Mommy...

My hand travels downward...

Heart pounds like crazy and sweat pours from my overheating body.

What would she say if she saw her daughter now?

Two fingers slip into my needy slit. Normally I'd tease and work myself up, but not today.

Without further ado I pump them in and out, thumb pressing hard against my engorged clit. I moan deliriously as waves of bliss stabs into my brain and drowns me, my breathing growing shorter and shorter.

It feels so fucking good!

I picture my mother getting me off, insulting me, looking at me with disgust.

She'd be wearing her work clothes; black heels, nylon stockings, dark pencil skirt, a white blouse, and lastly those square frame glasses...

The squelching from my pussy is loud in the otherwise silent room. If my mouth wasn't filled, I'd be screaming and begging for my mother...

Those perfect feet, athletic calves, thick thighs, her wide matronly hips, tight waist, large succulent tits... Her almond shaped brown eyes that narrows and easily turns into those of a hawk, looking down at her prey... Thick lower lip...

Yes, yes, yes, fuuuuuuuck!

A bolt of lightning shoots from the base of my neck, frying my nerve endings... There's another explosion from my crotch where I have four fingers plugged in and my thumb crushing my hard clit...

My hips rise from the bed and my toes curl in delight.

I shake my head and bite down on my mother's panties as the orgasms take me. My breathing stops, and my cunt squirts endless fluid onto my hand, splashing down on the bed. The smell of my mother's pussy becomes more acute as I press the cloth tighter to my nose.

Little thorns travel all over my body, and I feel like screaming. I roll around and ride wave after wave of pleasure. The ability to think, gone.

It's only an eternity later that I come back down, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. I remove the panties from my mouth and mindlessly lick my hand clean, lethargic and barely able to move.

"Fuck it..." I say, resigning myself to sleep in my own filth and take care of it in the morning.

As I slowly start regaining sanity and my libido hands over control--guilt and regret... is not what attacks me.

No.

The time for those feelings has long since passed. I think it was after the tenth--no, the twentieth? --time that I lost those feelings.

Now I'm just in a near constant state of arousal. A hunger that neither my so-called boyfriend, nor I, can ever sate.

This sexual attraction--oh, who am I kidding--sexual obsession with my mother started on the day we'd had our worst argument. I can't even remember what it was about or who started it, but my mother had ended it.

A hard slap to the cheek.

Oh she apologized over and over, but the damage was done. I'd discovered a new aspect of myself that day. Instead of anger and hurt that was supposed to follow...

I'd had a light orgasm.

Fucked up is putting it mildly.

We'd never really gotten along like so many other parents and children. Maybe it was my mother's bossy nature, trying to control every part of my life... Maybe it was my hormones, teenage rebellion, insecurities...

Or maybe it was a cocktail of all the above...

As I slowly caress my body, I'm reminded of our differences. Where she's curvy, thick and sexy... I'm slender and cute, a blossoming flower as it were.

I sigh.

How long will this go on?

Logically, I need to let this die. Go on with my life.

"I can't..." The words slip out as a whimper, tears pooling in my eyes.

"No! Self pity doesn't become you..." Squeezing my eyes shut, I lament the fact that I don't have a closer bond with my mother.

At this point all I know how to do is piss her off. And that turns me on.

I don't know if this was always buried in my subconscious, awoken by that slap. Or perhaps the only time she looks at me--really looks at me--is when I make her angry.

Isn't that a common tactic of children craving attention...?

Yes. It's her fault for always choosing work over me, not...

I laugh out loud as I recognize my mind trying to shift blame, attempting to protect my psyche.

A feeble move.

I already know what I am. No use lying to myself.

My hand cups my mound and I reach for the panties again...

Will this ever stop?

Do I even want it to?

******

"Fuck... Me..." I groan as the blinding sun pierces my eyes. There's a dull ache in my lower back and the smell of sex hangs heavily in the air.

Sigh.

Just another Saturday morning.

I sit up for a few minutes collecting my bearings.

This is my life now.

Masturbating to someone I can never have...

Keeping up a rebellious act to get her to notice me... So we can argue because that... gets me off? Fuck, I'll leave that for the spirit of Freud to deconstruct.

Another deep sigh later, and I slip on some pajama pants and a navy-blue tank top. Next, I slowly start clearing the bedsheets.

The window creaks a little as I open it, letting out the pungent air and bringing in a fresh morning breeze.

Morning?

The sun is a little too high for...

With sheets in hand I check my phone from the bedside table.

Dead. Typical.

I plug in the charger, leaving it there.

"Well whatever." I say, unlocking the door and heading towards the stairs. When my mother comes home later I'd get that argument that was due last night. Perhaps I can even...

While going down the staircase, my feet abruptly stop at the landing.

I get into another argument... and then what? Hope she might slap me again? To what end? It feeds my... addiction towards her, but in reality it doesn't accomplish anything.

All of a sudden a terrifying thought washes over me.

What if she grows tired of my bullshit? What if she sends me away to live with my grandparents, or some boarding school? Now that I'm done with high school, the logical next step would be college.

I don't even know what to do with my life, which college, what courses...

More importantly--more selfishly--I don't want to be separated from her... She has no idea how I feel. Probably... No. Definitely she thinks I hate her. I've given her no reason to think otherwise.

And... she hates me. Why else would we be so incompatible? I'm not always the one that instigates things...

My shoulders sag.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

Messy shoulder length russet hair... Wide doe eyes staring back at me with dark circles underneath. I look like hell...

A weight dislodges from my chest and I take a deep breath.

It's too much... It's meaningless...

I should just embrace the charade of a relationship with my so called boyfriend and move out...

That might be better for me as well as my mother. She can finally rest easy and I... I don't know what. Time might wash away these perverse feelings and fix what's broken between us...

"...fuck she's been. Always on purpose. You know how she..."

"...and what would that prove? It's also about you. If you still..."

"...strangle her. You know I will. There's no telling what would happen if you..."

She's home. And by the sound of things, not happy.

Normally this would be the part where I confidently stroll out and face her head on. Verbal lashes would be exchanged and my father would break it up when the heat gets a little too hot.

Normally.

Right now though... I don't have the energy. I'm just... tired.

Who knows what'll happen if I face her in this condition...

Maybe I should head back up and wait it out. By the sound of things, my presence would just breed more conflict. My parents fighting has also become a little more frequent lately.

Good old dad can take the edge off and I'll deal with her later when I'm not so...

"Fuck it." I whisper. Better get this over with now.

I listlessly walk down the stairs, across the hallway, passed the hazardous living room, and dump the sheets in the laundry room. Can just wash it later.

Okay. Now to just quickly grab a bite from the kitchen and--

"Erin!" My mother.

"Oh shit..." My dad.

Fuck... I'm not ready...

Like a deer caught in headlights, I freeze.

There she is, in grey pencil skirt and white blouse. Her pure black locks tied back in a professional ponytail...

No heels, stockings, or glasses...

I watch her bare feet as she storms down the hallway toward me, her shapely calves blending seamlessly into those thick thighs hidden beneath the skirt...

She doesn't stop.

I brace myself for another possible slap.

It's what you wanted, isn't it?

Instead, my mother pushes me against the wall, her knee between my thighs.

I bite my lip to suppress a moan. Does she know what she's doing to me?!

"Where were you last night?" Even mad, did her voice always sound so sultry...?

My eyes are lowered. Was she always so tall? She's at least a good head or two taller than I am. And that smell... Oh god, she smells so good, that smoky, vanilla scent...

"I asked you--" she grips my chin and raises my head, "--a question."

I don't meet her eyes. Those serious predator-like eyes would strip me bare, piercing right through me...

"Look at me."

What is this? What the fuck is this?!

I feel nervous, shy, excited, vulnerable... and aroused.

So. Fucking. Aroused.

My heart can't possibly beat any faster, but the fucker is certainly trying. Can she hear it?

"What's the matter with you?" She asks.

You are!! Look what you're doing to me!

Any second now she'll feel my fluids leak all over her leg. I struggle but she effortlessly keeps me pinned to the wall. Not surprising, considering I'm built smaller than her.

I bite down harder on my lip as her leg brushes against my mound, sending boiling heat through my groin.

"You..."

Is she realizing what's going on?

I can't take this anymore!

My eyes finally make contact with hers. She widens them slightly, confused.

An almost audible snap echoes in my mind as control slips away. Months of lusting after this woman, of downright torturing my pussy... Of sleepless nights... Finally takes its toll.

With zero hesitation and an agonizing groan, I grab her head and mesh our lips together...

Fuck the consequences, I must have her! Now!

My tongue pushes inside her mouth and I relish the flavor of her saliva. She must've smoked recently. God, I love this taste. Menthol cigarettes, and something sweet... Delicious...

My arms are like a vice, locking her head in place as I devour her mouth. Sensual moans filled with frustration are released intermittently from my throat.

More... More... More...

I kiss her like I've never kissed anyone. The kisses I've had before means nothing, compared to this soul quenching kiss with my mother.

It feels liberating. Like coming home. Like the first drops of rain in a barren desert...

If only this moment could last forever.

"Are you guys alright? It's a little too quiet." My father's voice from the living room brings me back to reality. I pull back from my mother, a string of saliva still connecting us.

I lick my lips and blink a few times.

Oh fuck! What have I done!?

My mother stares at me vacantly, perhaps in shock. She doesn't say anything as I wriggle loose from her grip and stumble up the stairs as fast as humanly possible.

I slam the door shut and lock it behind me, before diving onto the naked bed, screaming into a pillow.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck....

It's over.

Tears wet the pillow.

This is what happens when I lower my guard.

She'll tell my dad. Heck, they're probably discussing what to do with their sick daughter right this moment...

Fuuuuuck!

Best case, I get sent to my grandparents...

Worst, I get kicked out or sent to an asylum of some sort...

Either way, any hope of salvaging--forget that--of building a normal bond with my mother is gone...

From a greater perspective, it was always going to end this way, sooner or later. No way could I have suppressed this lust. Especially not when she cornered me like that...

So close...

I laugh-cry hysterically.

Really? Is this the time to be getting horny?

Even as I try to comprehend the shit-storm I just started, I can't forget her taste on my tongue...

Her smell...

Her entire being...

If I was going to leave anyway, this memory is so worth it. No matter what happens from now, at least I'll always have this.

******

How long has it been since I escaped up here?

I'd just closed my eyes and drifted away, repeatedly. Hoping that it was just one of my many delusions. Sadly, the lack of bedsheets reminds me that it was all too real.

The sun has set and my body demands food. No matter how much I try to run from reality, I'll have to face the music. Honestly, starving seems like a more viable alternative.

Wait till they're asleep, then get food? Or rip off the band aid all at once?

I laugh sardonically

Yeah, because that worked out splendidly last time.

I curl up into a ball and wrap my arms around my knees. Who cares if it's cowardly? I will procrastinate until the world ends if that's what it takes! There's no fucking way I'm owning up to that shit.

Me being afraid of confrontation? Of a fight?

If it were a mere twenty-four hours ago, the very notion would be ludicrous. But now? Now I'm just a meek little squirrel trembling in fear as I hide in my bushes.

I damn near scream when there's a knock on my door.

Shit... Please go away! Leave me in my happy place for a little longer...

Heedless of my internal struggles the knocking continues.

"Erin? It's me. Can we talk?"

Of course it would be my dad. My mother's probably sickened at the sight of her daughter.

"...What...What is it?" My voice is hoarse.

"Can you open the door, please?"

I want to vehemently shout "No!", but that would be unproductive. If I don't face the music, then the music will face me I suppose.

I drag my body out of bed, and like a pirate to the gallows, lifelessly walk to the door. The numerous teddy bears littering my room feels like their mocking me with their glassy eyes.

With the door unlocked, I go back to bed. A blanket would have been perfect to hide behind right now, but as it is, I just sit on the edge of the bed.

After a few seconds my father follows me in, grabbing the chair from my dresser. He sits directly in front of me.

Oh, I have my mother's feet...

With my head down, staring at the floor, that's what pops into mind.

Of course my feet are smaller than hers.