The Story Teller

Marilyn opened the package carefully, taking care that she did not damage or mark the contents with the knife she used. Removing the protective covering, she glanced at the gleaming black lid of the brand-new laptop, as yet, unblemished by fingerprints and the daily wear and tear that it would ultimately receive.

It was her son's Christmas present, a promise she had made at the start of the year, that if he gained the grades he needed and got into college, she would replace his old one with a spanking brand new one. There was nothing wrong with his current laptop, but it was getting old, and he had managed to get through the last couple of months of his web design course using it, excited at the prospect of a far more powerful machine.

Covering it with the protective sheet, she closed the cardboard flaps and carefully carried the box upstairs, placing it in the bottom of her wardrobe and then locking the door before secreting the key.

She was just starting to prepare their evening meal when she heard the front door bang and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs as Stevie ascended to dump his college bag and get changed. The footfalls came again, sounding like a herd of elephants as he took the steps two at a time in his haste to get downstairs before appearing in the kitchen.

'Has it arrived yet mum? he asked, his excitement palpable.

Marilyn kept her face straight as she turned. 'It hasn't yet. I'm sure it will be here by the big day, if not, probably the first post after Christmas.

He may have been eighteen, but at that moment as his bottom lip drooped, he looked like a little boy again.

It was only just over a week until Christmas and tomorrow would be his final lecture before a nearly three-week break. Marilyn normally had a full-time job, but this year she had saved seven days of her holidays and was taking a week off during the festivities. She had her fingers crossed for snow, but it was highly unlikely, she could only remember a heavy fall on three occasions during her lifetime, the most they usually got was only a light smattering.

When he had disappeared out that evening, she had retrieved his present, carefully wrapping it in festive paper and sealing the corners with tape, before replacing it and locking the wardrobe door once more.

She had kept up the pretence, right up to the day itself, Stevie's disappointment evident as he looked longingly out of the lounge window each morning, hoping, and praying for a delivery driver to appear.

'I'm sure it will be here the day after Boxing day, they did promise me it would arrive in time.' He nodded his head, but she could see that he was not holding out any hope.

The look on his face Christmas morning had been worth it. 'You!' he said with a grin. 'You are a bad mother, lying to me like that.'

He'd manage to put it to one side for the day, but Boxing day, Stevie was noticeable by his absence, ensconced in his bedroom as he transferred files from his old laptop to the new machine.

The following day he had brought the old one to her, they had always planned that she would get his laptop when the new replacement arrived. 'There you go, mum. I've removed everything I need. If you come across anything...... just delete it.'

Marilyn had no real need of a computer at home, she had one at work and that sufficed. She was only going to use it for a bit of online shopping, emails to friends and family, and to occasionally play "Solitaire" in bed each night instead of watching rubbish on the television.

That evening, sat in bed, she must have played fifty games, eventually bored with what she was doing. She was no computer expert but knew enough from watching the I.T blokes at work as she clicked through the regular folders and was surprised to find that hundreds of files still resided on the machine. She was sure Stevie said delete anything she came across, but with rising concern, she had imagined one or two, not this many.

Rooting in the old laptop bag, she found a memory stick, plugging it into the side as she began transferring folders and files onto it. At first, it was a simple click and move, but finally, her motherly head kicked in. It was a special training that all mothers received on the birth of their first child, that ability to be nosey, to wonder and pry into what their children were doing.

She opened folders and files, reading this, and discarding that, all of it so far was old schoolwork and projects. At last, she had cleared the most relevant, "Documents, Music, Pictures and Video's" as well as any files left on his desktop.

She emptied the "Recycle bin," did a disk clean and removed the stick. The laptop running smoother and a little quicker with all the junk gone.

She opened the browser, ostensibly to do a bit of window shopping, but her curiosity got the better of her as she brought up her son's browsing history, half expecting it to contain a list of pornographic sites. He was no longer a child. He was a young man, and she knew that most young men would spend time watching the sort of things these sites offered.

Marilyn was completely surprised to find that there was only the occasional one, but what did catch her eye was a site that advertised itself as containing erotic stories.

She clicked and a webpage appeared, her eyes reading the list of titles on offer,

"Mom made me a man. Seducing my Mother. Mother and daughter get it on. Mom wanted a threesome," were among many of the titles listed.

She picked one, clicked on it and started reading, becoming engrossed as the tale unfolded until she came to the sex scenes. The descriptions were certainly graphic, especially when the two main characters were supposed to be a mother and her son.

By the time she had finished it, she could feel the change in her body, immediately selecting another and continuing to read. She read four that night before she had to close the site and switch the laptop off, her pulse racing and her heart going like the clappers as her chest heaved up and down.

Marilyn resisted the urge to masturbate, but for the rest of that week, each evening when she retired, she would spend a couple of hours reading one offering after another and finishing the night feeling randy as hell. Some of them were good, some were exceptionally good, others were nothing more than a hasty attempt to describe two people having sex, but with each one she read, she diligently left a truthful rating and comment as to the effect it had on her.

It was also about that time, that she realised she was logged in to the site, Stevie must have told the browser to remember his username and password. Having a nosey in his account she found his username was "PurveyorOfPorn" and that nearly all of the stories listed in his favourites folder were of an incestuous nature, namely mother and son.

It completely surprised Marilyn, wondering suddenly if that was how he saw her but then convincing herself that he probably had a crush on one of his friend's mothers, there were certainly several extremely attractive women amongst them.

With the New Year finished, she continued to read the stories, new ones popping up each day, and week. She had just finished one which, while it wasn't bad, wasn't great either and then the thought popped into her head 'I'm sure I can do better than that.'

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she could make a reasonable attempt at writing an incest story. Ideas buzzed around inside her head as she closed the webpage and opened a text program, at first just jotting down notes and ideas. Over the course of the following week and even though she had returned to work, she found herself distracted, fresh idea's popping into her head which were then jotted down on scraps of paper and stuffed into her handbag. She was getting excited at the prospect of starting, formulating a plan as to how that first chapter would run.

With her excitement came a notion, and a touch of madness, she knew now what she was going to do, she was going to have some fun, she was going to draft a story for her son.

Having written an opening couple of pages she went back to the beginning, re-reading, and correcting the work for punctuation and grammar. It wasn't bad, but something was missing. And then she knew what it was, taking a quick breath, she replaced the names of her characters, the mother was named Marilyn and the son was named Stevie.

When she read it back to herself again, it took on an all-new life. She read the speaking parts, hearing the words coming from her mouth, her son replying to her questions or statements. At last, she had reached the pivotal moment, her first sex scene. She put everything into it, as graphic as she dared, describing every nuance as her characters fucked.

She could feel her excitement build as she typed, Stevie's cock fucking his mother's pussy. Marilyn thrusting her tits at him, her hips lifting as his shaft pounded her cunt. And then her climax, her body going rigid as she orgasmed, the sensations as he filled her cunt with his hot creamy cum.

Exhausted and highly aroused, she sat back and closed her eyes, allowing her breathing to slow and the demand in her fanny to subside. She read all that she had written once more, tensions building in her body as she reached the part where he undressed her and then opened her legs, thrusting his cock deep into her quim as they copulated.

She just knew she was going to masturbate tonight, closing the program down and finally shutting the laptop lid before getting rid of her robe and switching off her bedroom light.

She breathed slowly, relaxing and allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkened room. The house was silent, Stevie in bed and hopefully asleep as she allowed her hand to drift to her breast, slowly massaging the abundant flesh there and then quickly exciting her nipples.

Over her stomach and belly, her hand slid downwards until her finger delicately stroked her slit, that initial burst of satisfaction flooding through her. When her fanny opened, she slid the finger inside, quickly joined by a second one as she frigged, the tension building as her story replayed in her head.

Stevie's cock felt huge, her cunt expanding and contracting as he thrust it into her. It was her story, but a consequence of giving the characters their names was that an image of her son kept popping into her head. Her orgasm was stupendous, her body straining as she tried to dismiss the thoughts from her mind, but constantly returning to the one where her son towered over her.

The first chapter consisting of eight pages had been written, with Marilyn signing up to the website, selecting herself a username and then submitting the opening pages of her story. Now that she had done it, she wasn't holding out much hope, there were far better writers out there and she would probably be lucky if half a dozen people paid it any interest.

It seemed to take ages for it to be published, Marilyn checking each evening and becoming more nervous, how would she take it if readers just decided that it was crap.

All told, it was just over a week before one evening, she saw her tale splashed across the laptop screen for the first time. She actually read it again, feeling the familiar turn-on as her words painted pictures in her mind and feeling quite exhilarated as she reached the cliff-hanger of her first chapter.

Surprisingly, more than a dozen people had read it, leaving comments about how they were looking forward to the next part. By the next evening, nearly thirty had read it and the evening after that it was up to seventy and had been given a "Hot" badge.

She was excited even though there was one tiny disappointment, her son was not amongst the ones who had left comments and she had no way of knowing if he had even read it. She had a sudden idea as she remembered that she had access to his account, currently, she was viewing from her own new one. Logging out, she signed back in with her son's credentials, going to his favourites folder, her body shaking with anticipation and the hope of finding her story there.

The shiver ran down her spine, an insistent tingling beginning between her legs as she read the title of her story. "The desires for my Son." He had read it. Stevie had read her story and had been impressed enough to add it to his favourites.

New ideas flooded her head as she opened a blank page in her text program and began typing. Her first chapter had been close to the truth in part, It had been Christmas, the snowfall heavy as her characters Marilyn and Stevie had found themselves snowed in for nearly a week, supplies running low and struggling to stay warm each night. They had ended up in the same bed, cuddled together for warmth, her story Marilyn conscious of the bulge pushing against her bottom as her son held her close and tried to keep her warm. One thing had led to another, her characters having sex and then the recriminations the next morning when they came to their senses and realised what they had done.

Was that the end of it, would it happen again, how would her characters react to this incestuous liaison?

Her fingers clattered away at the keyboard, advancing the plot, deleting a sentence here and there as she re-read it and changed her wording. That evening alone, she wrote three pages of text, building towards a crescendo she decided, as the mother and son came together again despite their resolution never to repeat it.

"They had moved to the lounge, the large fireplace the only source of heat in the house other than the kitchen where she could turn on the gas cooker. Marilyn was conscious of what she and Stevie had done, telling herself that it must never happen again, but the longing in her belly and the remembrance of his cock filling her cunt made her determination waver.

With a hot meal in their stomachs, they spent the evening watching a little television and playing cards. She had brought linen down from the bedrooms, setting it up in front of the fire as well as a couple of sleeping bags. The room would stay warm for quite a few hours during the night, and she could top it up, if need be, at least they had a plentiful supply of coal and logs.

There had been a mad dash to their bedrooms to get undressed and into sleepwear, returning and shivering in front of the fire until they warmed up again. At last, they slipped into the sleeping bags, the lights had been extinguished, the room now lit by the flickering from the slowly dying fire. It hadn't stayed like that for long, the clothes, the bags and the proximity of the fire soon had them both sweating as they crawled out of them and just lay atop everything.

Marilyn must have fallen asleep because she awoke with a start, her body feeling aroused and conscious of her son snuggled in behind her as his raging erection pushed against her bottom. Lying perfectly still, Stevie's hand rested on her stomach, but then moved to the top of her sleep shorts, hovering there for a moment before it slipped inside and continued its downwards journey.

This wasn't supposed to be happening they had decided, but she was unable to stop his hand as it curved between her legs and his fingers opened her fanny. She tried to suppress the sounds threatening to creep out as he teased her quim, but when his finger penetrated her, she twisted her upper body, turning her face towards her son.'

'I thought we agreed,' she struggled to say, her legs opening wider to give him greater access and noticing the look of excitement and lust in his eyes as the last few flames flickered.

'I just want you so much,' Stevie panted, his throbbing erection grinding against her as his hand fingered her a little faster and the groans now escaped her lips until his mouth covered hers and they kissed. By the time they disposed of what little clothing they wore, Marilyn's resolution had been forgotten, eager to sample her son's flesh again as she lay back, opened her legs, and then grabbed his cock as she pulled him between her thighs.

'Jesus. It felt so fucking good,' she told herself as his cock impaled her, his hips thrusting his shaft into her moist open fanny at a constant rate. She watched as he lowered his head to her chest, feeling his hot breath on her breasts and then the warmth of his mouth as he sucked and licked each nipple in turn. She raised her chest, squirming against his groin each time his cock filled her cunt. She was telling him now, telling him how close she was, telling him she wanted to cum and feel his cock fill her passage with his seed.

And then she was floating, her climax lifting her, her body accepting the flow of stimulations that overrode her senses and made her wish for her orgasm never to stop."

She lay back against her pillows and closed her eyes, her body alive and with a need for satisfaction which she now knew would come as soon as she had finished, just giving her son time to settle before she fingered herself again.

Within a few nights, her next chapter was complete, and she uploaded it, waiting in suspense until part two was published. It did even better than part one, comments soon mounting up as readers started following her, and she again noticed that her son had added it to his favourites folder.

Marilyn was in the process of sending an email to her mum, just keeping her up to date with any news when she noticed that she had received several from the site. Yes, she had signed up with an email address, but never considered that readers would write to her in this fashion.

Tentatively, she opened each one, some complementary and saying how much they looked forward to the next part. Others were very near the knuckle, describing what the reader was doing while they read her story. It gave her a thrill as she realised that she wasn't the only one becoming aroused by what she had written.

It was the final email, the writer posing several questions.

"What made you chose those names? Have you ever been involved in an incestuous relationship because you make it sound so real? Are you male or female? If female, have you got a son, do you think about him like that?"

Her username gave nothing away, but the sender's name did, "PurveyorOfPorn."

Marilyn's chest felt tight, as though she was struggling to breathe, her palms were sweaty and there was a buzz of excitement about her body. She couldn't respond from this email address; he would know it was her straight away. Her first stop was a well know browser as she constructed a new alias address, picking a name that would keep her mysterious, 'mad_N_bad@***mail.com.'

It was easy to set it up, twenty minutes and she was ready to go. She started, tapping away as thoughts filled her head until Marilyn suddenly stopped and deleted it all. Closing her eyes, she thought about what she was doing, this person was supposed to be a stranger writing to her, how would she normally act. Slowly she built herself a persona, starting to type her reply.

"Hi PoP

The names are a figment of my imagination. I am a female writer and yes, I do have a son. Have I had that type of relationship, now that would be telling this early because I don't know you well enough yet? Are you a male or female reader? How old are you? If you are a male, do you have fantasies about your sister or perhaps your mother? Do they know that you think about them in that way?

Looking forward to your reply

MNB"

She read other stories that night, wondering if her son had received and read her reply yet and how he may respond. Would it scare him off, or would he divulge information that she knew nothing about? The thought had still not entered her head that what she was doing may lead to what she had written in her story. Stevie was her son; she was his mother and presently she had no desire to bed him.