Tales from the Closet

Prior to her son's death, her breasts were big enough to require her wearing a D cup sized bra. Now, after the magic potion worked its wonders on her tits, Paula found all of her old bras were way, way too small. Thanks to the added inch on her bust, and the upgrade from a D to F cup, Paula needed to go out and purchase, from a specialty lingerie shop in the mall, all new bras.

Needlessly to say, she was quite impressed with the old witch's magic potions, but more importantly, she could not imagine how her son wouldn't be equally impressed . . . if somehow it came to that.

The night of séance, within bare minutes of it starting, the shimmering air formed into a wavering, indistinct figure floating right next to Olga.

Paula took the figure to be her son and could just barely make out his voice speaking to Olga before the witch spoke back. Whatever they were urgently whispering to each other about, it was much too low for Paula to pick up on. Their hurried, whispered communication ended with Olga chanting something in a foreign language to him before bringing her hand up.

After leaning in close to the wavering figure, she opened her hand. Pursing her lips, she blew something out of her palm, it looked like sparkling dust particles, directly at her son.

After the dust cleared, Olga clapped her hands together as the figure disappeared. "It be done."

"What was that . . . there at the end? It looked like you blew something from your hand in his face."

Olga slowly climbed to her feet before grabbing Paula's hand. "Come, come, we talk in bright kitchen of dark tings."

In the kitchen, Paula pressed Olga about what that was she blew in her son's face. "Just a bit of magic A bit of someting to help 'im out later. No concern of yours, until laters when you two alone, then you find out I gave the boy a bit of power to perform magic . . . as he might sees fit."

The witch cackled quietly to herself before adding, "Oh yes, you find out alright den about Olga's spell she done cast for da boy . . . but not good to question Olga too deeply about 'er spells eh."

"Fine, fine," Paula muttered. "So you spoke to him. What did he say back?"

"He be ready, Paula. What about you?"

"Ready to communicate?"

The old lady cackled loudly before whispering, "Communicate and much, much more me thinks. He be waiting for you . . . in the closet. Upstairs."

"W-what is going to happen? I mean will I be able to see him? Talk to him?"

"Hmm, that be up to him. His time is short but he be a mighty powerful spirit. Lots, lots of energy. Now too many questions spoil things, so listen, but no questions, and Olga give small bits of advice, but only if you feeling brave. You feeling brave, Paula?"

"Yes. I need this."

"You also might need this . . ." Olga reached into the folds of the dress she was wearing and produced a small vial, holding it out to Paula in her ancient crooked hand. "If only to give the boy what I suspect he truly wants."

"What is it?" Paula asked, taking the vial.

"Nothing much. Just a little somethings to help one overcome . . . hmm, how you say . . . your motherly inhibitions against doing what needs to be done. Make things seems like maybe you be dreaming, and no rights or wrongs in dreams eh. The more wine you drinks with it the more . . . heavy . . . its effects upon you. Olga suggest you go heavy, dear as da contents of the vial will give everything you do for 'im an easy, dreamlike quality while leaving your thoughts warm and fuzzy and open to naughty suggestions."

Paula frowned at the contents of the vial. It was obviously some kind of drug but did she dare take it, with the wine no less, leaving her in what sounded like would be a rather vulnerable state of both mind and body.

"All in or nots in at all is what I suggest Ms. Paula."

Paula sighed. "I agree . . . all in. So how do I take it and when. Now?"

"Here witch give specific advice . . . for once. Listen then I go, before boy grows too restless upstairs by 'imself. Add my potion to a glass of wine you drinks before going upstairs. If only one glass of wine, fine, but two be better, and three be best. The wine will . . . how do you say? . . . Exaggerate the effects of my potion. After you had your wine, with Olga's helpful elixir, go upstairs, act as if everything be normal, get undressed in the bathroom, away from his watchful eye. Get dressed for bed . . . but wear something be enticing but not too much. Then yous come out of bathroom, hmm, maybe light a bunch of candles. You have candles Paula . . . lots, dozen maybe?"

"Yes, I got plenty of candles."

"Anyways, candles be good, don't forget them, give bedroom a warm inviting glow for 'im. After candles all lit, go to pretty full length mirror I seen that day in bedroom, maybe fiddle with your hair a bits, while watching for signs in the closet he be watching and very interested in his mommy."

"What then? Do I talk to him just like normal?"

"Nothing be normal about what might happen Paula. And even Olga with all her insight into tings, can't say for certain what might happen. Too many unknowns. Too many to say for certain anyway. Indulge him Paula, but do so with extreme sweetness and innocence . . . that be the key for yous. Remind him you are his Mommy and he be your little boy. If you wanna communicate, keeps it simple. Ask simple questions, tell hims one knock for yes, two for no. He be shy, at first anyways, to where you both wants to go so you must lead 'im with your questions, Paula. Remember, again you be his Mommy, you be the most powerful force in the boys world, but don't be in such a hurries to get there, dear. Draw tings out a bit . . . let the tension build between yous . . . and remember above all else, death be cold and lonely, your warmth, your touch is what he needs and will make 'im real . . . More I cannot say."

Paula was left with no choice but to accept what the witch told her. Just as they were saying their goodbyes Olga stopped, "Hmm, must be getting old . . ." She cackled at her little joke, before whispering, "Almost forgot something important to give yous. You being needing this if all goes well."

Reaching one more into the folds of her dress one more, Olga pulled out a small bottle, thrusting into Paula's hand.

Paula glanced at the small bottle. The label said, Frutopia Natural Raspberry Flavored Lube and Body Lotion.

"He told me the raspberry be both your favorite. Keep it near and handy. On nightstand I would think along with this . . ." She again reached into the folds of her dress where she produced, quite ominously, two sets of hand cuffs. Both were lined with thick, fuzzy bright purple fur.

"What on earth of those for . . . the handcuffs and lube?" Paula asked while knowing in the back of her mind exactly what they were for.

The old woman raised one gnarled finger, shaking it at Paula in a disapprovingly manner. "Remember what the witch say to you earlier dear . . . Too many questions spoil tings, but I will tell you one small ting if it helps ease your mind."

"Please."

"Olga has always had a knack for knowings what people need and you be needing dis tings later on Ms. Paula . . . I just sense as much."

Paula was about to ask a question before she remembered the witch's warning and snapped her mouth shut. After they said their goodbyes, Paula followed the witch's instructions, gulping down the three suggested glasses of wine with the first having the magic elixir in it.

At first anyways, the elixir seemed to have no telling effect on her, but then again after her three quick glasses of wine she was definitely more than a little buzzed so maybe the wine was masking the effect for now.

After entering the bedroom, she crossed the room, to the nightstand flanking the right side of her bed, where she deposited both sets of handcuffs and the lube, while making it a point not to pay attention to the half open closet door and what might be lurking inside. She took a minute rummaging through her dresser to pick out something to wear, something enticing that is, before heading off to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, she changed into her new frilly light tan sleepshirt which she made more appealing by tying it off just below those now super prodigious breasts of hers thus showing off her perfectly flat and toned tummy.

She paired this with a matching tan colored lace thong and a pair of gold sandals with two and half inch heels. Emboldened by the three glasses of wine, Paula came sashaying out of the bedroom, spending the next few minutes lighting a plethora of small tea light candles on both of her nightstands and dresser.

Once all the candles were lit, giving her bedroom the warm, romantic glow the witch suggested, Paula swaggered over to her beautiful, oak trimmed swinging full length mirror.

She maneuvered it a few feet to her left, so she could perfectly see the closet in the reflection of the mirror. She took a deep breath. The bedroom was still and quiet; the air filled with raw sexual tension. Smiling coyly in the mirror, Paula announced loudly, "Are you there honey? Give me a sign . . . please baby. Mommy has made herself all pretty for you."

After a long quiet moment, seemingly stretching out forever, there came a muted creaking sound from the closet. The door was swinging open wider.

Paula's heartbeat trebled in that instant. He was there.

Deciding to try the witch's suggested method of communication Paula raised her voice saying, "You like what Mommy is wearing baby? Can you knock once for yes, two for no."

To accent her question she fiddled with the tie of the frilly sleepshirt like she might be getting ready to undo it.

After a brief pause there came a single quiet knock from the closet.

"Good, I'm glad," Paula whispered as much to herself as to him.

She could scarcely believe this was happening but yet it was. Determined to not let the unbelievably of the situation deter her, she asked her next question.

"Do you want Mommy to show off a bit for you? Maybe put on a little show?"

Again came a single knock, a bit firmer this time.

Paula started swaying back and forth, swinging her hips to the left, and then to the right. It was easy; she was drunk. Lifting her hands up, she ran them through her long, gorgeous mane of brunette locks, lifting them up before letting them fall back in place as she shook her head. Closing her eyes, she twirled around slowly once, and then a second time to show off her body from every angle. Giving the mirror a coquettish smile, Paula whispered, "Should I stop teasing you now honey?"

After a brief pause their came two sharp knocks.

He wanted more. Deciding to indulge him fully, Paula whispered, "Maybe my little boy wants to see his Mommy get undressed huh?"

She closed her eyes, her hands floating up to the middle of her chest. Ever so slowly, she began to undo the tie on her frilly nightshirt. Drawing the undoing of the tie out to maddening infinite proportions, Paula carefully unknotted the sleep shirt before patiently slipping it off her body and letting it fall casually to the floor.

Next she slid her hands slowly down her hips. Hooking a single finger under the waistband of her thong, she gradually pulled them down and then off.

Now completely naked she stood, studying the reflection of her body, much as she suspected he was doing, in the mirror. Again, she was amazed at the magic Olga potions performed on her already decent body. Paula was generally not a vain person, but even she had to admit, as her eyes fell on those mighty F cup sized breasts of hers, her tits were now super nice.

"F for your tits are fucking big!" Paula thought to herself as she tried and failed to suppress a giggle.

"I . . . I hope you're not disappointed, Matthew. I know you have been dreaming of watching Mommy get undressed for a long time."

There came an immediate single sharp knock causing Paula to smile.

Her mind floated back to that fateful day. It was painful to think about, but she needed the feeling of jealousy to wash over her again. The jealously she felt over that stupid woman in the Penthouse magazine having bigger boobies than her . . . and her son liking them more as he jerked off looking at them.

Raising her voice slightly while adding a sharp edge to it, Paula began to speak, "You made Mommy jealous that day Matthew. Looking at that woman in the magazine of your dad's with her big boobs. I am thinking maybe you find her more attractive than me."

After a brief second there came a pair of loud thumps from the closet. The loudest yet, which she took as not only a no, but an emphatic no.

"Does Mommy have bigger and nicer boobies than the stupid girl in the magazine?"

Her question was met almost immediately with a loud ringing knock from the closet.

Paula smiled. Mindful of the witch's advice to "draw things out a bit" Paula leaned back from the mirror as a naughty idea floated into her head.

"You wanna see Mommy play with herself baby? Would you like that? I bet you would?"

After a brief pause there came a single soft knock.

Closing her eyes, Paula dragged her fingernails lightly across her belly before allowing them to dip down into the lush valley between her legs. She dipped one finger briefly inside; God she was wet, before letting her hands float back up to her breasts.

Her hands glided all over her tits as she gyrated her hips back and forth. Using both of her hands, she lightly cupped her immense breasts, bouncing them up and down as she let out a pronounced moan.

Paula could only imagine what her little show must be doing to her son as she let her fingers slip over her ripe nipples one by one.

Turning around to face the closet, Paula took turns licking both of her index fingers before dropping them to play with her nipples in tandem.

After letting her head loll back and adding a few more explicit moans to the mix, Paula sensed she must have been driving her watcher in the closet wild with pent up forbidden desire.

Letting her hands slip off her tits, Paula straightened up. "Mommy is getting tired baby. I think I need to go over to the bed and relax. Would you care to join me over on her bed?"

After a long pause, there came, much to her surprise, a pair of tentative knocks.

Before she could get upset by his refusing her invitation to join her on the bed, Paula remembered what the witch said, "Lead him, he be shy."

"Hmm, maybe later then," she asked quietly as she strutted over toward the bed, making sure to put some extra wiggle in her steps to make those full-sized tits of hers bounce up and down.

Once she got settled on the bed facing the closet, she gave him a crafty look. "You sure you don't wanna join Mommy on her bed honey. C'mon now . . . she is getting lonely all by herself."

In response came a pair of almost hesitant knocks from the closet.

"Well no rush. We have all night you know. Mommy is all yours. Your dad, you don't have to worry about him . . . we are divorced now. Did you know that?"

There was two sharp knocks on the closet door.

"Anyways you know what that means hon . . . it means Mommy needs someone to take care of her needs, baby and right now what she needs more than anything is for you to be both big and brave for her and come out of the closet. Can you do that for her? Please, pretty please, sweetheart."

What came next was more than the anticipated, and hoped for, single knock. First, there was a slight stirring in the air, just enough to make all the candles on the dresser wink out simultaneously. Next, another stirring in the air caused all the candles, except for one a piece, on both of the nightstands flanking her king sized bed, to go out.

Paula held her breath. The closet door was opening wider. Slowly, a shadowy figure emerged from the closet. The figure, just barely out of the closet now, hesitated.

Paula strained her eyes, but in the near darkness of the bedroom, she could not make out any of the specifics of the dark figure looming just outside her closet.

It took Paula a minute to realize--as the figure stood there motionless--just like she had to coax him out of the closet, she would have to coax him over to her bed.

"Come over honey. Don't be shy. I know you liked what you saw from the closet so just imagine how much more you will like it up close if you are next to me."

He started to cross the room toward the bed. As he drew closer she could see he possessed all the trappings of your conventional ghost: he floated just above the floor while lacking a firmness in outline. As he drew closer Paula stared, wide eyed, frightened, just a little anyways-- but more than anything-- she was becoming immensely turned on in hot anticipation of what might happen when he drew near enough to reach out and touch her.

He was still a good ten to twelve feet away when she closed her eyes for a quick moment in an attempt to dispel the fear crawling up her spine.

When she opened them again, mere seconds later, he was there, standing directly in front of her. His image was wavering slightly, and seemed to almost glow. Focusing her eyes on his face, despite the diaphanous nature of his being, she knew it was him. A honeyed innocence simply radiated from his whole being; it was an innocence full of love for his Mommy.

His hazel eyes seemed to twinkle in the faint glow of the two remaining candles and were flickering back and forth between her face . . . and her breasts.

He was dressed the same as the day he died: pair of old Levi's and a simple dark tee shirt. The expression on his cute, boyish face was one of infinite sadness, causing her heart to wretch just before it hit her.

Up until now, in Paula's mind, the effects of the witch's magic elixir had been negligible at best. Despite being fully naked and sitting on the bed before him, she was still not sure she could go through with things. There was this constant nagging doubt flitting around the perimeter of her mind saying, you can't allow this Paula, you are his mother. It's wrong.

Now it was as if a large curtain, a heavy curtain, was drawn down and around her, blocking that nagging morally conservative inner voice of hers out completely. Instead, things now took on a surreal dreamlike quality; the elixir had found its way to her heart and was weaving its magic wicked spell around it.

Released from her morals, Paula found her voice. "Can you speak hon? Can you talk to your Mommy at all?"

She reached out to stroke his face. His face felt soft, and pliable and oh so cold. I was like touching jello maybe . . . cold, freezing jello.

It came back to her then what the witch had told her. Death be cold and lonely.

Then he spoke in a voice barely loud enough to be called a whisper.

"It hurts, Mommy."

"Oh baby, I'm sorry. Tell your mom where it hurts?"

He dropped his head before whispering, just barely loud enough for her to hear, "Ashamed to say."

Paula looked at him. He was looking down. Her eyes followed his and then she spied it--an incredibly large bulge inside his jeans--and knew what he was talking about.

"Honey, now come on . . . that is nothing to be ashamed of. Can mommy help?"

"Please . . . It hurts still . . . and cold, always cold . . ." He looked at her. Tears stained his anguished face. He looked down his voice dropping to the lowest of whispers. "Didn't . . . get a chance . . . to finish . . . before . . ." His voice trailed off then, but she knew exactly what he was talking about and exactly what was expected of her.

"You wanna lay down baby or maybe sit. Mommy will take care of you."

"Yes . . . please, I need your warm and loving touch."

"OK, but first let me grab something real quick." Paula hustled over to her nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube. After settling back down on the bed, she grabbed his hands, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed where she was sitting.