Strong Shoulders Pt. 04

This story contains fictional characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities and are 18 years old or older. Please feel free to leave constructive feedback. All rights reserved.

Please read Broken Shoulders (Pt1, 2 & 3) before reading any further.

As before, I'd like to thank you all for the lovely (and not so lovely) feedback. I can't please everyone, and there will always be people that find fault instead of just accepting that they don't like the story.

When I woke up the following morning, not only did my head hurt form the hangover but I felt totally ravaged by fear and worry. I had just divulged my most innermost secret, that I had fucked my own son. Not only that, I had admitted to all of my sexual indiscretions toward my son -- and admitted that I was still desiring his cock. And I had admitted it to my own sister.

Don't get me wrong -- I trust my sister, and of all my siblings she is the one that keeps the secrets best. But just the fact that my secret was now known to another is always a worry. I suppose it's the lack of control we feel.

Thankfully I had a busy day ahead, and although Emily tried to elicit more details from me over a morning coffee, I was able to distract her enough until I could announce that I had to go. I waved her off, a heavy weight on my shoulders. I no longer had any control of whom would find out about my indiscretions. What if Emily got drunk? What if she got angry with me and told someone out of spite? What if she used it against me?

It was all logical but unnecessary concerns. As an adult - Emily had never betrayed me before, never divulged my secrets out of spite and had never, ever used them against me. I say 'as Adults' because of course, yes as kids we all teased and threatened things. And maybe, perhaps that was what troubled me deep down.

For the rest of the day I busied myself as best I could, giving as little thought as possible to my actions or the possible ramifications. But that night, I began to contemplate and think on some of the things Emily had said that previous night -- well, the things I could remember her saying leastways.

"I'm wiping the slate clean, dammit Jayne -- I have to." I said loudly, realising that I had referred to myself in the 3rd Person. What had happened that previous afternoon disturbed me. Ben was showing signs of being unable to compartmentalise the events between us. Did he think it was 'normal', even acceptable in normal society? What if his friends found out? What if Amber told her brother and he then told other students?

It was true, I consoled myself -- Amber didn't know the full story. But she knew I'd given Ben a blow job and so if her brother found out and then told others -- Ben was going to get stigmatised and even humiliated and ridiculed. Students are merciless when it comes to that sort of thing.

And if Ben and Amber were to have a chance of making a go of it, Ben had to understand that it was not an option to have sex with his girlfriend AND his mother. I knew that any sexual contact Ben and I had from now on would just detract from his relationship with Amber. Of course, given what had happened between me and Amber -- I'm not sure what I was most concerned about; Them splitting up or them staying together.

If they stayed together, then for sure Amber would be staying at my house a lot more. And would she then 'come on' to me as she had done that night? And if she did, would I be able to resist? Would I want to?

But if they split up, then Ben would no doubt turn to me for his sexual relief and again, I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist or that I'd want to.

Of course, for those that have been reading the full story -- you'll know the answer to that. To some of you it might seem like a win-win situation, I guess. Maybe it's a glass half full vs glass half empty scenario. At that very moment, the best I could do was to acknowledge that the glass contained a liquid.

I didn't hear much from Ben or Emily for the next few days. But then on the Wed, I got a text from Emily and then minutes later a text from Ben. Emily's text was rambling, making little sense until Ben's text arrived and then it became clear as to the cause of Emily's excitement.

As I was to find out later, Emily and Ben had been texting regularly. And knowing my sister as I did, I shuddered to think what those texts might contain. Ben had made mention (to Emily) of a student party on the Sunday night and immediately Emily had decided she wanted to attend, despite being way too old to pass as a student.

"Ben said he can get us in." she wrote in one particular text, making no reference to the party. It was only when Ben texted and said (asked) if I wanted to come to the party too. Ben made it clear that Aunt Emily had said she was going to the party no matter what, so I had the option to go with her.

In truth I didn't want to go. It was a long way and as I said -- I would be a frumpy 30 something woman amidst a load of 'youngsters' all of whom were young enough to be my son or daughter. Emily, on the other hand -- was beside herself with excitement. Soon another text arrived from her. It said:

"Well, I'm going no matter what Sis, so it's up to you if you come (and I'm sure you will be 'cumming' lol)."

That was Emily to a T. Opportunistic, excitable and adventurous. Even with Ben to look after her, I knew about Emily's predilection for going off with random strangers for sex, and not always one at a time.

In all honesty, I feared for her. There would only be so much that Ben could do to look after her and if she fell into the wrong group, well -- you hear these stories don't you.

A part of me railed at the inconvenience, and told myself that she was a grown woman that could look after herself and make her own decisions. But the world is full of bereaved mothers and siblings who thought exactly that of their daughters or sisters that never came home.

Despite the fact I knew the pointlessness of it -- I text Emily back to try to persuade her not to go. It was useless, as I soon found out. I pointed out that she would be so much older than the students, that it would be loud music and maybe even a few illicit drugs. I laboured the point that she wouldn't know anyone except Ben and how dangerous it would be for her to be around a group of people she didn't know.

Emily was having none of it. So I ended up using my last card. I pointed out that she had no where to stay, but when she explained the plan to me -- well, let's just say that is when my head exploded and I knew I was going to have to go with her to the party.

"I'm going to sleep on Ben's floor." She text using an exclamation mark and a smiley face.

My first instinct was to yell out "The FUCK you are." If I allowed that to happen then there was only one way it was going to end -- especially where alcohol and Emily were concerned, and I knew Ben wasn't going to say no.

Thinking about it now, I do wonder if Emily just said that to get me to go with her. She knew the buttons to press and she knew what my reaction would be. Either way, knowing the plan -- I was now resolved to going to this damn party.

The Sunday morning soon arrived so I drove round to Emily's to pick her up then popping her suitcase in the back of the car - we set off. The first ten to fifteen minutes of the drive comprised of me thinking out loud about whether I'd locked the door, switched the lights off... etc. You'll all know the drill.

Satisfied that all was well, I turned my thoughts to the upcoming event and I turned to look at my sister once more.

"Tell me again why we're driving 3 hours to Ben's Uni?" I asked, the utter stupidity of the venture now coming home to me as a mileage sign whizzed by reminding me of just how far we had still to go.

"It's a 'touch up' party. Christ have you never wanted to go to one of these? I have for ages, never had them when I was at Uni." Offered Emily sounding more excited than she should for someone her age.

I was 38 (then) and Emily was 35 -- we were hardly trendy youngsters out for a bit of fun. And yet, that is EXACTLY how we were behaving.

Once I realised the sort of party it was, my anxiety levels skyrocketed. I knew what those parties entailed so I was more than a little reluctant and more than a little unsure. It would be students at the party, no older than 22 and so I questioned why any of them would want to 'touch up' a couple of middle aged fogies. I also questioned the wisdom of doing it around Ben's friends. In fairness, Ben was going to pass us off as 2 of his 'friends' but even so, with alcohol involved there was always plenty of scope for the truth to slip out.

And then there was my own feeling of respect and self-worth to consider. Had I really sunk so low, was I really so desperate for male attention that I was willing to travel 3 hours, attend a party that was dubious at best in its integrity.

Ha -- all of you reading this right now, you'll know the answer to that. It was true I hadn't had a decent fuck since... well, if we're not counting Ben then in over a year. Yes, fucking Ben was incredible, but it also came with so much baggage. Guilt and angst, doubt and unsurety. Worry, concern, fear & loathing (of myself). Self ridicule, self doubt and an overall sense of total wrongness.

"I'm really not sure if I want all those people touching me." I added haughtily.

Emily laughed, the laugh she also gave when I had said something daft or idiotic.

"It's a separate area, silly. You only go into the area if you want to be touched." Emily responded with a giggle.

There was a period of silence, as I began to compose in my mind some of the things I'd thought about from the heart to heart that Emily and I had indulged in earlier.

"You don't really want to fuck him, do you?" I asked, glancing over at Emily.

From the look on her face, she was initially unsure of whom I was talking about but then the realisation set in.

"Who? Ben?" she asked, obviously trying to gain herself a bit of thinking time.

I frowned at her. "Of course, Ben -- who else" I rasped.

Emily turned her head and gazed out of the window. Next to us, a huge truck was in the next lane and was keeping the same speed as us. Suddenly, Emily grabbed the bottom of her jumper and lifted it up pulling her bra up at the same time to expose her tits, then turning to press them against the window so the truck driver could see them.

I was horrified, and was about to shout at her when a huge bellow sounded from the horn of the truck.

"What the fuck Em?" I hollered. "You want to get us pulled over for indecent exposure?" I yelled. As I did so, I pressed down hard on the accelerator to get us away from the truck.

In response Emily just huffed at me.

"See, you haven't changed -- as dull and boring as you ever were. Life is meant to be lived sis. For fuck sake." She moaned back at me.

Emily paused. "Yeah -- so what if I do want to fuck Ben?"

My mouth dropped open at her directness. I had expected some sort of delicate and measured response. Some conciliatory tone about how she had desires but would never act on them.

The blunt admission took my breath away. I was about to heap a load of castigation on her when I suddenly remembered that I had no room to throw stones. I'd already fucked my own son, and no matter which way I cut it -- I was in no position to judge.

"It will just fuck him up even more." I offered, trying to gauge whether Emily had any intention on acting on this desire.

"He's already struggling to make female friends, and as for him and Amber well..." I paused.

OK guys. I didn't pause -- I shivered slightly at the thought of Amber and I in bed.

"It's bad enough that his mum fucked him, if his Aunt did the same it would just blow his mind and I really don't think he'd cope or recover from it Sis." I offered calmly.

In my own mind I had come to the conclusion that this really did have to be a watershed. What had happened that afternoon with Emily in the garden was behind us, and needed to remain behind us.

Emily nodded and her mouth grew taunt. "I... I know..." she offered lamely.

A part of me wondered if she did, having just seen the impulsive side to her nature.

I smiled at her. "Promise me... promise me you won't try." I pleaded, hoping she would have enough integrity to do so.

Emily's face grew thoughtful and she paused a moment before saying "I'll promise... on one condition." a definite twinkle in her eye and a note of excitement in her voice.

I knew Emily, her 'conditions' and her promises. They came at a very high cost and were rarely simple. But I was not prepared for what this promise was going to cost me. My mind whirled trying to pre-empt what Emily might ask for. When it came, it knocked me for six, over the stands and into the car-park.

"Tell me what it was like, all of it -- in every detail." Exclaimed Emily excitedly.

Of course, I knew immediately what she was referring to, and I reeled. Part of my process to wipe the slate clean had been to not dwell on the pleasure of that event. To focus on the danger and the damage it was doing. Now I was being asked to re-live the event in all its glorious detail.

"I've already told you." I responded weakly, knowing Emily would not accept that. "And besides...you've fucked enough guys to know how it works." I added, a slight barb in my voice.

Emily grinned at me. "Jayne. You know very well what I mean. I want to hear about how it felt for you. How it made you feel to have your son's cock inside you." She offered with a giggle.

"Oh come on Em." I wailed. "Please don't do this. I want to move on, I want to forget it ever happened."

Emily's next outburst came as a shock, and a stab to the heart -- mainly because it was true.

"Oh Fuck Off Jayne. Don't tell me you haven't rubbed your clit every night while thinking about Ben fucking you." She challenged, her eyes now fixed on me.

Yes yes. All of you reading this, will know it's true. Of course I fucking did. Much as I wanted to move on, when it came to my personal time there were no holds barred. My lust and desire demanded access to every last miniscule memory of that pleasurable event. I consoled myself that it was only in the privacy of my own, innermost of personal feelings -- but it was still there. There was little point denying it, Emily knew when I was lying. So I decided to try a bit of humour.

"Not EVERY night." I giggled.

Emily broke into a smile. But just as I expected her to press home her advantage, Emily changed tack.

"So, where are YOU sleeping tonight?" she asked, the implication in her question so apparent it hit me like a brick. Emily was reminding me, that she hadn't promised anything yet.

In truth, I hadn't thought about where we'd sleep. I had assumed that Ben would have sorted somewhere for the both of us -- but now my mind screamed at what the arrangements might be.

"We'll... we'll sleep in Ben's room." I stammered, my head racing to work out the logistics.

Emily smiled as if to say she wasn't buying any of it. "And Ben?"

I knew Ben, and I knew students. Most of them can sleep on a clothes line.

"He'll be OK on the common room sofa, or on friend's floor." I added, pleased that I had devised a solution so quickly.

Emily smiled wickedly, she can be a devious sod sometimes. "What if you want to leave the party early and I don't... and maybe Ben doesn't want to leave early either." She asked innocently.

Again, the implication in her question was clear. She was reminding me that she would have plenty of time to get Ben on his own and fuck him, if she decided to do so. Emily was nothing if not relentless and I knew she wouldn't give up. If I wanted her to promise, I had to give in to her demand.

"You can't fuck him Em. You just can't -- you promised." I wailed, a little more hysterical than I meant to.

Emily smiled. "I don't believe I promised any such thing." She smirked.

I was about to counter once more that she knew all the details. "Come on Em... I..." I began. Emily interrupted me.

"No you fucking hang on Jayne. This is just like when we were kids. You'd do something and then immediately tell me NOT to do it. Like when you nicked that bar of chocolate from the shop. And when I said I wanted to do it, you told me not to and that you'd tell if I did. Remember?"

"I gave you half the chocolate." I offered, a little bemused at her actual point.

Emily frowned and grimaced. "You see? Even now you don't get it do you? It wasn't about the chocolate. It was ALL about how you felt as you stole the chocolate. The feelings and experiences of excitement and exhilaration. That is what you were denying me then, and that's what you're trying to deny me now." She called out, her voice for once harsh and accusing.

It blew me away, I had never thought of it like that. Short of experiencing it herself, Emily just wanted to try and imagine how it felt. That's when I knew that she wouldn't really sleep with Ben -- whether I made her promise or not. But equally I realised that what she had said was true. I remember vividly, stealing that bar of chocolate. I had decided to do it a few days earlier and had planned it all in my head. I remembered the excitement and the anticipation as we walked to the shop, I remember how sweaty my palms were and how nervous I was.

I remembered how fast my heart was beating and how my 'honest' mind was trying to convince me not to go through with it. I remember warning myself of the ramifications if I got caught. My mother wouldn't care of course -- but my 'step-dad', well let's just say his answer to everything was to use his fists.

Now, I want to say at this point that of course, I don't condone stealing -- and I can't even say that we didn't have the money to pay for the chocolate, because we did. No, this was ALL about the feelings and emotions, the excitement and the trepidation.

And I realised that this was how it was with Emily. Who knows, she may even have harboured sexual thoughts toward Ben before any of this ever happened. My heart sank, knowing and understanding now that she had a point, and realising that I was probably going to have to share the details with her.

For the next hour or so, I relayed as much of the details as I could get away with, to Emily. Occasionally, Emily would interject with a question or ask for elaboration but in the main she sat there quietly, listening intently. Her questions became more pointed and probing when I got to the event of Ben and I actually fucking.

Emily giggled when I admitted to her, that I had to mount Ben and that I lamented the fact that he wasn't in a position to 'pound me'. But her first question was much more basic.

"How big IS his cock sis? I mean really?" she asked huskily.

I knew I had already told her this detail, but I guessed that she just wanted to hear it again -- so I told her, describing Ben's cock in as much detail as I could recall. I watched her eyes go wild in wonder as I described it, and there was no hiding the desire in her eyes.

Emily's mouth dropped "How... much of it did you get inside you?"

"He hit my cervix." I added casually, but knowing that this would excite Emily all the more. "And it fucking stretched my hole sis." I giggled.

Emily sighed heavily. "I've never felt that." She lamented. "Is it painful?"

I explained to Emily that it was more uncomfortable than painful, and that it didn't really add very much to the overall pleasure. This wasn't completely true of course, as women reading this will know. Perhaps physically, it adds very little to the pleasure -- but as I said at the time, the feeling and knowledge of having my cunt stuffed so completely, knowing that Ben was feeling the tightness of my cunt squeezing on his cock was an incredible turn on.