Spellbound

"It does." Emma knew she should give it back. She had no right wearing something special like this, but she really loved how it looked, and it seemed to feel right. "You really don't mind?"

"Not at all, looks great and I feel good giving it to someone who appreciates it."

"I do, thank you so much!" Emma stood and gave Robin a huge hug, then kissed her cheek fondly.

She kissed her very close to the lips and found herself wondering how soft Robin's lips would be...both sets. One soft and sweet, the other set soft and...wet.

"You're welcome." Robin shocked her with a quick peck on the lips. Then gave her a rueful smile. "Sorry, my family was very affectionate and we thought nothing of little quick kisses like that."

"Um, no problem." Well there was, and that it was quick and not lingering and tongue filled.

"I'm heading home, I'm sure Cliff is hungry and last time he tried cooking we ended up with the fire department here."

She grabbed her purse and with a wave over her shoulder, exited through the kitchen door that led out into the backyard. Emma watched her round ass sway pleasantly in her sun dress and took in the long well shaped backs of her legs.

Emma walked over to the window, noticing she was listing to the right a bit, and watched Robin walk across the yard towards her house. Reaching over, she opened the fridge and grabbing a bottle of cold water, opened it and chugged half of it.

She continued to look out the window until Robin reached her house. Cliff came out on the porch to meet her and they shared a hug and a long kiss. This time she wasn't turned on, but sad. She remembered those greetings fondly and longed for someone to greet now.

She finished off the water, then turning on the faucet, splashed some water on her face. The water and the cold on her face helped clear some of the effects of the wine and turning around she leaned against the counter.

Emma wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and christen that hot tub. A nice long soak, then a good night's sleep and be ready for a busy day tomorrow. Instead she let her gaze wander over the boxes stacked on the floor containing their dishes and pots and pans and all the small items she had on the counters at home.

She'd put some of it away before going upstairs. Eric was working hard on her stuff. It wouldn't be fair for her to slack. With a sigh she picked up the utility knife from the counter and cut open the nearest box.

Pulling out a tea cup enveloped in a small bubble wrap bag, Emma thought of Robin. At home with her much younger husband who was crazy over her. They were going to fuck again tonight, she knew it.

Robin was a lucky woman, being adored and kept satisfied. All Emma had to look forward to was playing sticky finger in the hot tub. Putting the cup down and taking out another, Emma thought Eric wasn't the only one mad at life right now.

Chapter Three

"Ouch!" Emma cried out when she straightened up to soon and caught the back of her head on the top of the cupboard.

She sat on the floor, running her hand over her head. That was the third time she'd done it while putting all the pans and cleaning supplies away in the lower cupboards. Fortunately that was the last of it.

Standing, Emma stared at the four remaining boxes and shook her still aching head.

"Tomorrow is another day." She slumped into the kitchen chair and leaning back into it, closed her eyes.

"You tired mom?"

Emma opened her eyes and flinched at the sight of a woman with long black hair sitting across from her. Behind her was a tall young man with the same dark hair.

"Long day, Ben." The woman, rubbed at her shoulders. "I'm sore."

"Here, let me do that." Ben's hands slipped beneath hers and kneaded her shoulders.

"Oh, honey, have I told you lately what a good son you are?" Mary released a relaxed sigh slumping further down in the chair. Wait, how did Emma know the woman's name?

"Because it's your dream silly." A soft voice chided in her mind.

"A good son should take care of his mother, no?"

"I'd like to think so." Mary laughed softly then purred contentedly as his large strong hands worked her shoulders. "Hmm, honey, that feels fucking amazing."

Those words, inappropriate as they were, had come out sounding even worse. Mary had breathed them in a husky voice more fitting being with a lover than her son.

Somewhere in her mind Emma knew she was dreaming, but was unable to react to the scene in front of her. Did you usually know when you were dreaming in your dreams?

"Robin was saying that earlier." Ben-why did their names seem familiar?-spoke as his hands slid from her shoulders down to her upper arms. "Man, Cliff was fucking her good."

"That he was," she whispered, "God, he was fucking her so hard."

Wait, they had seen Cliff and Robin? No, this was a dream...

"And she looked so good, damn she was hot." Ben was no longer massaging, but caressing her arms, sending a shiver through her. "The way her dress was bunched up and just on her knees taking it? I was so fucking hard."

"And your naughty mother was very wet," Mary sighed, "In fact, I'm getting pretty wet right now." She put her hands on his forearms and squeezed them. "Damn, you've got a hard body."

"Got a hard cock too, and not from thinking about Robin." Ben swept her hair to the side and kissed her neck. "But from my hot as hell mother."

"Oh, that's nice." She reached back, putting her arm around his head as his soft lips slid along her neck.

His scruff scraped her cheek as he nuzzled her and she moaned at the slight discomfort. Emma was aware of her nipples hardening and she was squirming in the chair. Ben's hands moved down her arms and across her stomach.

What the hell was this? That was his mother! "You think your mommy's hot?" She gasped when his hands worked their way they beneath her shirt.

"I think my mommy's the sexiest woman I've ever seen," he whispered in her ear. "Remember all that milf porn you found on my lap top? I watch that because I think of my milf."

"I like that." she cooed as he fondled her soft stomach and worked their way up towards her aching breasts. "You think about that? About your mother being your little porn star?"

"I think about my mother being what I know she wants to be." His hands cupped her breasts through her bra. "My dirty fucking whore."

He punctuated his words by yanking her shirt and bra up over her ample tits and Emma felt a wave of heat flow through her as it had when she'd been watching Robin and Cliff

"Oh, yes," Mary moaned when her son captured her swollen nipples in his strong fingers. "I'll be your whore, baby. Your dirty girl, your slut. After all, shouldn't a mother take care of her son in every way?"

"Then take care of me." His voice had an edge to it. "Be a good mother and give your son what he wants."

"What do you want?" she asked while putting her hands over his, pressing them harder to her tits. "Tell me."

"I want my mother to suck my cock." He released her tits and she yelped in surprise when he grabbed the back of the chair and spun it to the side.

Ben unsnapped his pants and grabbing the back of her head with one hand, pulled his zipper down. Emma saw he wasn't wearing underwear and licked her lips at the same time Mary did as she reached in to pull out his cock. He paused, an evil smirk on his face.

"Tell me what you want, mom."

"I want to suck my son's big hard cock."

Opening wide, she waggled her tongue at him, "Give it to me, baby, feed your mother that big dick."

"Well, you always told me to never tell you no." Ben laughed, and with a flourish whipped his cock out and shoved her head towards it.

There was a green haze that obscured her vision and when it cleared Emma was staring at herself, sitting in the chair, her shirt up and her tits exposed. She was eagerly sucking Eric's cock!

"Oh, fuck mom," he moaned, "That feels so..."

Emma's eyes flew open and jerked upright in the chair.

She sat there, her heart beating so hard she thought it was going to burst through her chest.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered, rubbing at her temples.

Her heart slowed, but her mind raced. Seriously, what the hell was that? The last few weeks she'd been having an increasing amount of wet dreams. It was obvious her body was telling her she needed to do more than go through batteries like they were going out of style.

Her reaction to Robin and Cliff earlier was a sign of that. She still couldn't believe she'd not only stood there watching, but to have that reaction? She swore if Eric hadn't shown up she might have popped her cork just from observing them. She was definitely going into heat, the effect of the wine on her proved that. Robin was right, it did lower inhibitions.

But that dream? A dirty dream was one thing, but a mother with her son? Worse, seeing her and Eric in that position? Where the hell could that have possibly come from? Like pretty much every normal mother, she had never once had an obscene thought of her son.

To the contrary, on occasions where she'd noted her son was a good looking young man, she felt a little awkward.

"Its okay," she muttered softly. "Too much to drink, new house, nerves." Her words sounded as lame as they were. There were just some things you never thought of no matter how tired or drunk you were.

She rose from the chair, wincing at how sore she was. Time for that soak and bed. Emma left the small light on over the counter in case Eric got thirsty in the middle of the night and left the kitchen.

She crossed the dark dining room, and turned on the small lamp in the corner to leave him a lighted path in the unfamiliar house. Emma entered the living room and saw Eric was asleep on the large sectional.

He had removed his shirt and was just wearing a pair of shorts and his I-pad was face down on his chest. She quietly padded over to him, and smiled. He'd been so moody lately, but when he was asleep he looked like the sweet boy her and Steven had raised.

Eric had worked his ass off, mounting the TV on the wall and setting up her computer and monitor so all he had to do when the movers came tomorrow is put it on her desk. The cable couldn't come until next week, but he'd linked his I-pad to the TV so they could watch Netflix or movies.

He'd also brought all her clothes up to her room and hung up her work clothes and more playful dresses that she never wore anymore in the huge walk in closet.

Eric had not only put together her shoe racks, but put all her shoes in them. Granted, her OCD would force her to arrange them, but it was the thought that counted. He'd even made her bed with the pillows and sheet set she'd brought in the trailer.

The movers were due at noon tomorrow with her desk and book cases and Eric's bedroom furniture, along with a few small pieces of furniture she'd decided to take with them. That and the boxes of personal belongings that hadn't fit in the trailer.

Twenty plus years in that house and all they took fit into that trailer and a sixteen foot U-haul. She noticed Eric had unpacked the photos that she wouldn't trust with the movers and lined them up on the mantle and in the shadow box on the wall opposite the fire place.

Emma purposely looked away from them. She didn't need to look at Steven right now and wonder what he thought of her leaving the home and life they'd built together.

Eric was breathing slow and heavily and she grunted at the half empty bottle of wine and the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

She'd told him he could have a glass, not two or three. But what the hell, he was twenty, a man now and he'd earned it. Leaning over him, Emma eased the I-pad from his chest in case he moved so it wouldn't fall on the floor.

When she touched it, the screen came up and she stifled a gasp. The picture on the screen was one Eric had taken in a mirror and she was confronted with the sight of her son sitting on his bed with Ashley kneeling between his legs.

She was naked, but for a green thong, reinforcing it had always been his favorite color. It dawned on her that picture was taken the day she'd walked in on them fooling around. Eric hadn't locked his door and she didn't know Ashley had been over.

Emma slid the picture over and the next one was more graphic. This one Eric had taken of Ashley blowing him, his cock was not visible as it was buried in her mouth, her lips at the base of his shaft.

Ashley's big brown eyes were staring up at him and Emma thought the little slut looked pretty good with something in her mouth.

On that note, she quickly, shut the I-pad off and wondered what was wrong with her? She should have done that the second she saw the first pic, not look for more. She was sure there were a whole series of them on there.

She leaned all the way over the couch and carefully placed the I-pad on the coffee table. Now that she'd gotten over her moment of parental indiscretion she felt a mixture of anger and sadness that he was looking at those pictures. He needed to get over the little bitch.

He'd meet someone here once he got a job and started spending time in the city. Eric was good would go back to his sweet happy go lucky persona once he found someone to make him happy. He'd filled out pretty nicely too, she noted as she straightened up and looked down at him.

His chest was broad and his stomach hard and flat. He had his arms up behind his head and even relaxed, his biceps were visible and impressive. Emma's eyes trailed from his peaceful face down his chest and his stomach, and froze when she noticed there was another large muscle showing itself in the form of an impressive bulge in his shorts.

Impressive? She shook her head, but continued to stare. Beneath her, Eric moaned softly in his sleep and his hips moved. When she realized her son was obviously having a dirty dream, she...remained where she was and watched his hips rock.

The warm feeling was coming over her again, but this time centered in her chest. She swore the pendent was heating up. Emma put her hand over it. It was cool to the touch, but her body wasn't. She was heating up again in more ways than one.

She wondered if he were dreaming of Ashley. His sexy little girlfriend, sucking and fucking him and letting him take pictures. Emma snapped herself out of those thoughts by wondering if the little twat was letting Mark take pictures then too.

Emma took one more look at Eric, that hard young body and right now hard where it counted. He was wasting himself not having fun. Then again so was she, because there was no reason she shouldn't be getting some hard young cock.

With that thought, she spun around on her heel so fast she almost lost her balance. Young? Emma had never thought about younger guys. She had no desire to play cougar to some kid Eric's age. Then again if they looked like Eric...

She strode across the room and walked up the stairs, trying to distance herself from her son whom she was just staring at in an unmotherly way. That brought back that screwed up dream of watching some son and his mother, then the brief flash of it being her and Eric.

Taboo. The word sounded in her mind. Not just the act, the movie. Eric had mentioned it and Robin had been saying weird things about mom's and son's that sounded a little too close. That's where it had come from.

Not that she still should have any type of dreams or thoughts involving Eric, but at least it gave her the feeling it had not come from nowhere. She hadn't caught a buzz in a long time nor had she been this tired. Tomorrow she'd be back to normal.

Emma passed the room that would be Eric's noting that the small cot Robin and Cliff had been fucking on was folded up and shoved into the corner.

Cliff was supposed to take it out tomorrow. Good thing they'd folded it up, or Eric would have wanted to sleep on it and spend the night sniffing the sheets.

Emma caught herself thinking about Robin's glorious red haired glistening pussy and how it had looked with that big cock pounding it. Her own pussy yearned for that, tonight more than ever it seemed.

Emma went by the closed door that was going to be the guest room, not they'd ever have company, but she planned on eventually getting a bed for it, on the off chance they did. That room had been the master bedroom, but after what happened in it, Emma had opted for the smaller second bedroom to be hers.

She stopped in front of the door, her eyes wide as she heard Robin's voice in her head. "Ben was shot in the chest."

Ben and Mary; the mother and son killed in the room she'd just passed. That's why the names in the dream sounded familiar.

Her stomach tightened as another thought leapt into her mind. All three bodies had been found in the son's bedroom. Why had they been in the son's room after midnight? Emma recalled enough of her criminal investigation courses to know what a crime of passion murder scene would look like.

Husband catches wife with a lover, kills the lover out of rage, the wife from rage and betrayal. Then they turn it on themselves for what they did or not wanting to face the consequences.

"Emma, what are you thinking?" she asked aloud, to try to joke it off, but her gut, which she trusted unquestionably felt she was on to something.

Was the mother and son having a twisted affair? But why would she dream of it? Now that she had it really fell into place. The article hadn't had a lot of detail as it was so cut and dried, but she wondered what the autopsy report had said.

Had the mother showed signs of sexual activity before death? If so was it the son's DNA found within her? There had to be a report somewhere, unless they half assed it for being an obvious cause of death.

Why was she thinking about this?

Emma forced herself to get out of investigator mode and chalk everything up to just an eventful day and her tired mind was spinning like a hamster in a wheel because it had nothing better to do.

She smiled at how neatly her bed was made up and walking over to the closet peeked inside and saw Eric had not only done her show racks, but put up her shelving and stacked some of her totes of winter clothes in the back for her.

Emma noted the shoes were arranged as badly as she imagined, but it was the thought that counted. Eric might be a shit at times these days, but still a good kid and he did do what he could to take care of her. Just not in every way.

With an air of anticipation, she went over and opened the door to the master bath and smiled at the large hot tub. It was definitely big enough for two people to have some serious fun in. Emma lifted the lever to close the drain and turned on the water.

Once she got the temperature right, she went back into the bedroom while the tub filled. Emma walked towards her bed, and flinched when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned quickly then rolled her eyes when she saw it was only her reflection in the mirror over the bureau.

She stepped closer to the mirror and took in her appearance. Her green eyes seemed brighter than ever and more than a little glazed, telling her the wine was still flowing strong in her. Her normally fair complexion was rosy red and she wished she was flushed for a reason other than booze.

Emma stared at the pendent resting just over the neckline of her shirt. She'd thought the stone had been a deeper green previously, now she swore it was the exact shade of her eyes.

She let her eyes trail down her body. Knowing it would be hot and she'd be driving, she'd worn a comfortable sleeveless t-shirt and her favorite pair of ratty cut off denim shorts. Her long sandy brown hair was pulled into a pony tail and as she usually did when not working, she'd foregone make up.

As an attorney, Emma always dressed the part during the week. Business suits, or modest skirts with long blouses and blazers. Her hair was always pinned up or pulled back, and her make up just the right mix of flattering, but not over the top.