Secret Experiment: Mother's Love

"The next time you need a favor from me." She spat, voice raising to a shout as she strode past him and up the stairs, "Maybe try asking? Instead of just springing it on me as a surprise?"

"I thought you'd say no!" He yelled back at her departing form before bounding the steps behind her.

"Mom..." he placed a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to freeze in place and heave a great sigh, "You'd have refused without eventhinking about it if I asked you last week when I was first accepted."

"Dean-"

"Wait, please just let me finish," He interjected, "All I needed was for you to be open minded enough to at least consider it, that's all... and thank you mom... seriously, I really mean it."

"I would haveconsidered it, had you been respectful enough to give me a heads up before a mad scientist knocked on our door," she hissed, slowly turning her head to look her son in the eye, "You know... like an ADULT would do!"

Dean sighed, frozen in place with his nerves mounting as he watched his mother stomp up the last few steps and make a sharp left for her bedroom door.

"I know how badly you need this money, otherwise I wouldn't even have CONSIDERED this, but-"

"Mom-"

"STOP!" She snapped, holding up a hand and scowling, "...but you are not a child anymore Dean, it's time to stop acting like it. Don't you EVER try and manipulate me like that again!"

SLAM

The little shit was supposed to help keep me company while John was gone, not raise my blood pressure.

Swinging the door shut behind her, she strode over to the large king sized bed she shared with her husband and collapsed on top of it. Pulling the blankets over her body, she groaned and stretched her limbs, mind wandering to the previous night.

John was feeling particularly frisky, and had tied her to the bed post. They'd gone at it for hours, and she was still a little sore as a result of their passionate lovemaking. Just the thought of it was enough to bring the ghost of a smile to her lips, and a tinge of arousal to bud beneath the sheets.

Ohhhh, I wish you were here John. What a fucking fantastic time for a work trip.

Three weeks. He'd be gone for three whole weeks in New York City. Before the debacle downstairs, she wasn't too terribly nervous about the time without her partner looming over her head, but now... with her nervousness surrounding the wristband which would be shooting god knows what into her bloodstream, the fury she felt towards her son for playing her the way he did, and the... sudden wave of lust she felt...

Now? She wished he was here, more than anything.

Absentmindedly stroking her belly, she drifted off into an uneasy rest, doing her best to ignore her pounding head and think happy thoughts as the welcome embrace of sleep overtook her.

----------------------------

Dean

While Amanda napped upstairs, her son set off to ease her - admittedly understandable - fury with him once she woke.

Mopping the floor, dusting the counters, vacuuming the living room, and even cleaning out the toilets. He made a mission out of ensuring the house was spotless as can be when she finally dragged herself out of bed and stepped down those stairs.

He knew all along she wouldn't be thrilled with him and his little plan, but he didn't expect just how furious she'd be. So meticulous as can be, he cleaned... and cleaned... and cleaned... and cleaned some more.

As he put the finishing touches on his last task for the day - vacuuming the living room - he contemplated just how he'd be spending the next few weeks, nervous she'd stay short with him for his entire stay.

I hope this is enough of a peace offering, he thought to himself, feeling a tad guilty about his little stunt and staring through the ceiling at her bedroom as he clicked off the noisy vacuum,Why the fuck is it always so god damn cold in this house?

Shivering slightly, he plopped down onto the couch and propped his legs up, satisfied with the day's work and desperate for some TV before she woke. It was while scanning the room for a blanket that he heard it.

buzzzzzzzzz

"The fuck..." he mumbled, dropping the TV remote and looking around the room.

buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

"What the fuck is that?"

Patting his jeans in search of his phone, he found it still nestled safely in his right pocket where he'd left it, and scratched his head in confusion, searching with his eyes for the source of the strange buzzing.

It was then that the realization dawned on him.

Goosebumps prickling his arms, he strained his ears and slowly looked up at the white ceiling.

buzzzzzzzzzzzz buzzzzzzzzz buzzzzzzzzz

It was coming from his mom's room. She was....

Blushing, he slowly sat back down and turned on the TV, doing his best to drown out the sounds as the faint buzzing began to intermingle with what sounded like strained moans.

Nodding at nothing in particular, he mindlessly flipped through a streaming service, settling on a nature documentary and relaxing into the cushions as the soothing British voice began coming through the screen.

He wasn't really listening though, because seemingly the only thing his brain was capable of focusing on were the vibrations and moaning coming from upstairs. She'd slowly gotten louder, clearly unused to having a houseguest to conceal her masturbation from. The lightly strained sounds of pleasure rose in intensity, and the buzzing was louder, deeper, obviously on a higher setting than before.

In spite of himself, Dean's pants began to tighten as he slowly grew a hard on, doing his best to try and focus on the TV instead of the sounds his mom was making upstairs.

No! I can't fucking think like this.

Dean had a secret.

A dirty little secret.

Unbeknownst to anyone in his life, he had developed a pretty serious porn addiction at a very young age. So thanks to the world of endless, free internet pornography, he'd developed some pretty major fetishes in his time on earth. One of them being... incest.

So over the course of years, he'd developed the occasional urge to... pleasure himself to pictures of his mother and sister. This was something which brought him no shortage of shame and guilt, and by then it had been over a year since he'd done it. Which was big for him, after years of being too weak to resist the urge, he was proud of himself.

This made the growing erection in his pants all the more concerning.

"Ohhhh, fuck!" He heard her muted voice from beyond the ceiling above his head as the vibrations once again rose in intensity. There was a small knocking sound as she let out a long, drawn out moan. His cock was standing at full attention, painfully straining against his pants when the buzzing finally stopped, the moans went quiet, and he heard the creak of a door and a series of soft footsteps padding down the stairs.

"Hey son," She said softly from the foot of the steps, rounding the corner and walking into the living room.

Startled, he jumped and quickly snapped his head back to meet her eyes, fidgeting anxiously and doing his best to hide his apparent discomfort, speaking back softly, "Hey mom."

"Arrrrrre you okay?" She asked, squinting her eyes and stepping into the room to sit on the couch opposite him.

"Yeah... yeah! I'm fine, I just...." He trailed off, desperately searching for words as she propped her bare feet up, mirroring his posture from her position on the other side of the small coffee table seperating the two of them.

Her face was red, and her brow was moist as she stared at him searchingly.

"Are you worried I'm still upset with you, hun?" She asked, leaning forward to place a hand on his shin and rubbing it back and forth in a comforting gesture.

Flinching slightly, he sighed, "A little bit... I'm sorry for manipulating you Mom. I just... you know."

"I know," she said, withdrawing her hand and relaxing back into her couch, "But what's done is done. No point in dwelling over it."

"So..." she continued, "Are you feeling anything?"

"Feeling any- what do you mean?" Dean asked

"Anything... the wrist straps. The study. Helllllooo?" She asked jokingly, "What do you mean 'What do I mean?' This damn experiment that you roped me into. Are you feeling any different? I already felt my little pad get wet earlier, so we've been given whatever it is they're giving us."

"Oh." He said, remembering the study for the first time since he'd noticed her masturbating, "Well... uhhh... no. Nothing at all. My pad hasn't even gotten moist or anything yet. So either my skin's better at absorbing this shit, or I haven't been given anything at all."

"Really?" She asked pensively, "Hmm... I wonder which one it is then."

"What about you? Do you feel any different?"

"Nope," she chirped, standing up and looking around the combined kitchen and living room with a smirk, "Awwww, did you clean up the house for me?"

"Maaaaybeeee..." he trailed off with a sheepish grin, "It was my peace offered."

She smiled, "Well... consider your offering accepted... and greatly appreciated" she finished by striding towards him and pulling his head close enough to plant a series of quick playful kisses up and down his scalp, just like she used to do to him and Jane when they were kids.

"Mom!" He chuckled, swatting her away, "Fucking stop! I'm too old for this shit."

"Awwww," she pouted, "Is the baby boy embarrassed? He doesn't like Mommy kisses anymore?"

"I get my kisses from other woman nowadays," he stretched, pawing for the remote and pausing the TV which had still been playing in the background, "Sorry 'Ma."

"Ughhh," she groaned, sitting down beside him and pulling out her phone, "Don't remind me."

"Now look who's embarrassed."

"Shut up," she laughed, opening up a delivery app on her phone, "What do you feel like eating?"

"I brought a bunch of TV dinners from home, I was just planning on eating one of those tonight," he said nonchalantly, "Why?"

"No, you're not doing that. We're ordering in."

"Mom, I can't afford to-"

"Nonsense, child, I'll pay for your food. Now what do you want?" She asked sternly as he pulled a blanket over his lap.

"Uhhh... Chinese?"

"Hmmm.... You know, there's this Chinese restaurant on the strip that's fucking amazing, but it'll take way too long to get here. We should head out there one night this week, you'll love it." She muttered softly, scrolling through their options.

"That sounds nice, but what about tonight?" Dean asked, absentmindedly twirling the remote through his fingertips and doing his best not to stare down her shirt, the old hunger within him reinvigorated after her romp upstairs.

"There's this little hole in the wall a few miles away. Orange chicken and Chow Mein okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, that's fine," he responded, directing his attention back to the TV and flipping through the menus.

"Why the fuck is it so hot in this house?" She lamented, getting up and pocketing her phone.

"Hot?" Dean asked incredulously, looking up at her and squinting hard, "Are you sick or something? It's fucking cold in here."

Frowning, she gave him an incredulous look of her own before shaking her head back and forth and sighing.

"Maybe I'm still a little hungover," She announced, "I'm just gonna go hop in the shower, I feel really dirty right now. Can you just grab the food when they knock, son?"

"Sure thing mom," he said, turning his attention back to the large screen and kicking his feet back up.

"By the way, Dean..." she said softly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "Maybe do a better job of concealing those hard on's of yours in the future? I don't know if I can handle that thing waving at me for the next three weeks."

"Aghhh, god mom!" Dean jumped, blushing furiously and turning on the couch as she sauntered back up the stairs.

"I'm just fucking with you, son" she laughed gratuitously on her way up, "but seriously, go jerk off if you need to, or something!"

----------------------------

Experiment HQ, Los Angeles, California

"Sir... something's wrong with Subject 003's wristband." Johnson reported, furiously typing away at a control panel, "He's not receiving any of the drug, something must be-"

Holding a weathered hand out, Wilcox stopped the younger man, "There's nothing wrong with any of the equipment."

"But he's-"

"He's not supposed to be getting any of the compound... yet."

"He's.... What?" Johnson asked, sporting a look of confusion, "His vitals earlier... he- he... was erect! He was displaying every sign of arousal. What do you mean he's not getting any?"

Breaking out in laughter, Wilcox shrugged. "I told you we chose our subjects for a reason."

Screwing his face up, the corners of Johnson's mouth twitched upwards in spite of himself "So he's... a..."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'Pervert?'" Wilcox asked, chuckling amicably, "But who's to say, really? Everyone has their secrets, right Johnson?"

--------------------------

Day number two

Amanda

Amanda groaned as the first rays of sunlight peaked through the blinds of her bedroom window.

I must be getting sick, she lamented, stretching her tense muscles and kicking off her blankets. Glancing across the room, the thermostat read 65 degrees, yet her thighs and face were covered by a thin layer of sweat. The mild heat she'd felt for almost the entirety of the previous day showed no signs of abating, despite the fact that the nasty hangover she'd been nursing was officially long gone.

Reaching back to raise her pillows, she propped herself up on her hands and shimmied into a seated position, curling her toes and flexing her muscles. Despite dreading an impending sickness she was beginning to feel certain was coming, she felt fantastic. A youthful vitality she hadn't felt in years coursed through her veins, and her every muscle felt taut and bursting with energy.

But on top of that, she was incredibly horny.

What the fuck has been going on with me?

Pursing her lips and glancing towards the large white door seperating her from the hallway, she frowned and kicked her feet off the bed, set on getting up and starting her day...

On second thought...

Having a sudden change of heart, she laid back down and gently trailed a hand below her waist, sighing in relief as she made contact with the attention seeking devil that had taken up residence between her legs.

First gently rubbing herself through the soft fabric of her pajama bottoms, she moaned softly and cursed her husband for leaving town at the worst of times, before growing impatient and ripping her bottoms and panties down to her knees. Desperately fumbling through her bedside drawer, she pulled out a moderately sized purple vibrator and lathered it with a small amount of lube before hurriedly shoving it inside of herself, holding the button and mewling contentedly as it came to life.

Clutching the sheets with one hand and furiously plunging the toy in and out with the other, she drove herself to an unusually intense climax and clicked the off button, panting at the ceiling and shuddering with delight.

Her desire still unfulfilled, she briefly bit her lip and glanced at the floor, listening to the shuffling of her son downstairs.

One more time can't hurt... I'm too worked up for this shit

Smiling, she turned the vibrations back on, this time pressing the tip of the toy to her clit.

"Ohhh FUCK!" She cried out involuntarily, gasping and slapping a hand over her mouth as the sounds coming from below suddenly stopped. Dean had heard her.

Unable to stop herself from vocalizing her mounting pleasure, she muted herself as much as she could manage, pressing the vibrator more forcefully against herself and turning the settings up to max, alternating between a rapid pulsing and continuous vibrations.

Soon, her toes curled and her hips arched. Her knees tensed and out escaped a loud, drawn out moan as the feeling crescendoed, the intensity of her climax absolutely flooring her as her mind lit up brighter than a house fire.

Collapsing back onto the bed, she listened intently as the sounds coming from downstairs slowly resumed, cringing at the thought of Dean being privy to her... moment.

But somewhere deep,deep down... the thought secretly excited her.

----------------------------

Dean

Fuck... that is so fucking hot, Dean thought, wincing at his reawakened urges rearing their ugly heads once again.

"Just keep it cool... keep it cool..." he mumbled to himself, turning back to the pan he had been washing when he heard his mother's door creak open.

"Hey son...." She emerged, speaking gingerly as she slowly approached.

"Good morning mom," Dean said, not looking up from his task.

"Did you... uhh... eat some breakfast?" She asked, scratching the back of her head and shifting from one foot to another as Dean turned off the sink and began to pat the Teflon pan dry with a paper towel.

"Uhhh, yeah, I did," He said, finally turning to face her and leaning up against the sink, "I made myself some eggs and toast. I can make you something if you-"

Trailing off, he noticed her eyes were no longer on his own. Following her gaze down, his vision came to rest on his crotch, where a noticeable tent was still straining against the tough fabric constricting his erection.

"Oh god," he groaned, hurriedly sticking a hand below his fly and pulling his hard on up to tuck into his jeans, concealing it once more, "I'm sorry... sorry. This... happens in the morning. Ughhh, fuck."

Clearly fighting a small grin, she stepped forward and gave him a small pat on the shoulder before heading to the fridge, "It's okay big guy," she laughed, looking back and flashing him a radiant smile, "It happens."

"Wha- you... really?" He asked abruptly, confusion intermingling with the relief flooding his core, "You don't... you're not... uhh"

"Upset?" She helped, leaning against the open fridge and smacking a hand up against her waist.

"Embarrassed? Uncomfortable, maybe?" He sputtered.

"Nah," she shrugged, turning back to the fridge and grabbing a pack of turkey and cheese, "Get me the bread son, will ya?"

"Uhh... sure," Dean said softly, walking into the pantry to get the loaf.

"You forget hun," Amanda continued, smiling as she took the bread from his hands and setting to work on her sandwich, "I've lived with a man for over twenty years"

"And that's not evenmentioning the fact that I raised YOU for eighteen, mister!" She finished, pointing a finger splotched with mayonnaise out at him, before pulling it back to lick it off.

"Uhhh... yeah..." Dean mumbled in response, shuffling off to sit on the couch.

"Uhhh yeah!" Mom mocked, putting her things back into the fridge before walking over to plop down next to him, sandwich in hand on a paper plate, "Don't be so weird about it. You have a hard on, it's early in the morning, no big deal!"

"Okay," he said resolutely, slowly nodding his head.

"Although you diiiiid have one last night too, didn't 'cha?" She asked mischeviously.

"Oh! Mom! Stop!" He yelled, jumping up from the couch and heading for his room.

"Hey hey hey! Nuh uh!" She yelled back, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him back onto the couch.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, mister!" She said tersely, maintaining a serious look for all of two seconds before breaking off in laughter, "Okay, I'm joking, but seriously..."

"What, mom?"

"Just... just because you're stuck here with me," she said hesitantly, turning a deep shade of red, "Don't think that means you can't... y'know?"

Eyes widening, he turned to look at her head on, "I can't... what?"

"Y'know," She said meaningfully, making a strange motion with her hand, "handle things... take care of yourself."