Middle Class IncestbyMichelangelo1524©
She was giving an impromptu demonstration of the correct way to do the breast stroke whilst standing by the side of the town's semi public pool.
She was tanned and athletic with sun bleached blonde hair.
That summer's fashion was for short; loose sweat-shirt tops and the perennial shorts.
Hers were expertly tailored to her tight bottom; the slight flare at the turn-ups that were cut mid-thigh offering the barest possibility of further exposure. The white shorts contrasting perfectly with the tan of her legs and taut stomach; pale pink polished toe and fingernails hinted at her hidden intimate colouring.
But what really caught my eye was the top. I hadn't realised before how large her breasts were.
As she demonstrated the stroke they pushed the lower edge of her cut-off top away from her body, and from my position in the pool I thought that I caught just the barest glimpse of the under swell of her breasts.
She repeated the demonstration several times. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Hers sought mine and as they locked together she gave me a smile.
"Come on out Johnny, get dried off and dressed, we have to go! You know that your father doesn't like to be kept waiting," my mother's voice called.
The thought of my father in one of his tempers chilled me, and shivering I left the pool.
As my mother helped rub me dry, I smelt the barest hint of her perfume and leaning closer took a deep breath. She caught the gesture and smiled. "You're growing up too quickly she said."
That night, after the customary silent and tense evening meal followed by a solitary hour of television, I went to bed at my usual time of 8 o'clock, but instead of reading my adventure story, I lay awake, reliving those exquisite moments at the pool.
My dreams over the past few months had woken me with an erection and wet underpants but no recollection of their substance.
That night, however, I dreamt of the woman by the pool. When I awoke I relieved the pressure in my groin, nervously listening for the sounds of a waking household and whilst dreading the possibility of being discovered by my mother, wove her into my fantasy.
After showering, I went down to the kitchen for breakfast. My father was dressed for work and indeed left without acknowledgement a few moments later.
My mother, herself normally ready for work, was still wearing her nightdress covered by a silk dressing gown. "I'm not going in until later, so I'll have the time to drop you off at school" she said.
As she took her seat at the table a fork fell to the floor. We both reached down to pick it up. As she bent forward her top fell open revealing a quantity of untanned flesh and the deep cleft between.
As we both groped for the fallen object she caught me looking down her front and covered herself with one hand whilst quickly grasping the fork with the other. As I resumed my seat, I felt my face begin to flush with embarrassment. I couldn't help but glance in the direction of her chest and to my amazement saw her nipples rise in the centre of each delicious mound.
She too was flushed and momentarily unable to meet my gaze. When she did, she studied my face intently, smiled and reached across the table; took both my hands in hers and looking deep into my eyes said," I will always love you."
During the drive to school, still dressed in her housecoat and nightdress, she made no attempt to re-cover her legs as the material slowly but surely slipped away revealing more and more suntanned thigh.
I watched this process from the corner of my eyes, and soon felt a stirring in my groin. It was with difficulty and some embarrassment that I extricated myself from the car and at the last minute she called me back, "No goodbyes then?"
I leaned across the passenger seat to give her a kiss on the cheek, but at the last minute she turned her face towards me and kissed me full on the mouth. Pulling back quickly, I saw her glance take in the swelling in my groin. She smiled playfully and said "Have a good day," then turned her attention to the road and drove away.
School was one long, seemingly endless, agony of boredom. The girls that had seemed so alluring yesterday no longer held any interest for me. The childish sex talk of my friends during breaks sickened me with their foolishness. I was pulled up sharply on several occasions for staring into space during lessons.
I couldn't shake off my memory of my mother's behaviour that morning. Was it just adolescent wishful thinking? By the time that I returned home I had decided that it was and relegated the memory to that area of the brain reserved for masturbatory fantasy.
The house was as usual empty, and would be for at least another hour. Going to my room I started on my homework. Unable to concentrate on the 300 word essay assignment entitled "The relevance of atomic power in the event of the depletion of fossil fuel deposits", I soon found myself unconsciously rubbing my groin. I thought of my mother's legs and her breasts.
Checking that I would be undisturbed for at least another half an hour, I entered my parent's bedroom. Carefully, opening and closing drawers until I found her underwear. I leaned my face close and took a deep breath of the perfume that she used on the flimsy lace and nylon. I took a pair of her panties and held them to my face, trying to discern any trace of her intimate odours. Then a bra, the tips of which I licked and then sucked.
The sound of a car in the drive caused me momentary panic and I carefully, I thought, replaced the items. I was back in my room even before the key was placed in the front door lock.
It was my mother. She called out," Johnny, I'm home." I walked to the top of the stairs. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit, with matching two inch heeled shoes, her skirt was cut to mid thigh and her blouse was pale blue. As usual she had no need of stockings.
What was unusual, however, was that her jacket was unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of her blouse. From my position I was treated to a view of the top of her lacy pale grey bra and that devastating cleavage. "How was your day? Darling," she inquired, "Much homework?"
I described my assignment. "Not much to laugh about in that is there?" she said, "Never mind, let me get showered and changed and I'll give you a hand. Your Dad's going to be late tonight"
I turned to watch as she passed me on the way to her bedroom, my eyes taking in every inch of her; the swell of her buttocks; the muscles of her calves; the back of her knees; the stretch of her skirt and the gentle sway of her hips.
Had she always looked like that? Was she exaggerating her walk for my benefit? I just didn't know.
I was just settling myself into my homework when she called me. "I've got the clasp of my necklace caught in my hair. Can you come and untangle me please?"
Her jacket was lying in a pile on the floor and her blouse had been pulled from her skirt and was completely unbuttoned. She was bending over towards the door as I walked in, her hair hanging over her face as she tried to untangle the clasp. She turned sideways from me as I entered the room and still with her hands behind her head straightened up. Her bra, I now saw, was made of fine lace and her breasts were standing out proudly.
I walked behind her and noticed that the zipper at the back of her skirt and the button at the top was undone, exposing the top of her thong.
When I raised my eyes I realised that she had turned to face the full length mirror on the wall of the bedroom and looking into it I could see her erect nipples through the bra.
This sight; that of her full breasts and the muscles of her suntanned stomach caused me to catch my breath and I struggled briefly with the clasp until it suddenly released and slipped from my grasp.
The pendant lodged between her breasts.
Neither of us moved.
I caught her reflected gaze in the mirror and gently reaching around and under her arm, slipped two fingers briefly into her cleavage and as I pulled the pendant free, allowed my hand to accidentally brush across a nipple.
I held the necklace out and she took it from my hand. "Thank you," she said," I'm going to shower now."
She walked over to her bed and laid the necklace onto it next to the two items of underwear that I had been playing with earlier. These she picked up and held to her cheek. Then smelling them briefly and smiling she slipped into the bathroom saying," I think these will do for tonight."
I turned towards the door to let myself out and glanced back at the mirror on the bedroom wall. She hadn't fully closed the door to the bathroom and in its reflection I watched her undress.
First the blouse was thrown casually to the floor; she then wriggled out of the skirt.
Carefully not making eye contact she slowly reached behind her back undid the clasp to her bra and slipped out of it. Briefly squeezing her breasts together and flicking each nipple with a thumb, she leaned forward and gently closed the door.
My erection was huge. It took me to my bathroom, where after locking the door, I hastily dropped my trousers and briefs and started to masturbate whilst leaning against the wall for support. I had no control and my orgasm began immediately. A stream of semen spurted across the room. My whole body was shaking. It took me several minutes before I could start to clean up the mess.
She was all business when she came to help me with my homework but with her acute intelligence and understanding of market forces, soon piqued my interest in the subject. After thirty minutes of debate, I thought that I had enough of a handle on it to begin the essay. I can still remember it almost word for word after a period of more than twenty years. It got me an A.
Throughout dinner my mother seemed to have forgotten that anything had passed between us.
She was back to being my mother. She told me about her day; the successes and failures; the fun parts and those incidents that had caused annoyance. She was witty and clever, her stories filled with insights into the inner workings of the minds of her employees; her clientele and the sales reps that had called upon her.
We watched television for a while. I went to bed, while she made herself a cup of hot chocolate, locked the house and set the alarms.
I heard her go into her bedroom and close the door. It took me a long time to get to sleep.
I was awoken by the sounds of argument. They argued constantly now. Usually they kept the noise down, but there was something different about tonight. My parents rarely swore, but this time I heard my father call out, "You frigid bitch," and my mother replied," You useless parasitic bastard." The argument gained in intensity until I heard the sound of a slap. The front door opened, then slammed shut, a car engine started and the car roared off down the drive onto the road and away.
I prayed that it had been my father leaving, but was too uncertain to investigate. I lay there listening until I heard the faint sound of sobbing.
Following the sound I found my mother in the front room sitting on the couch crying. As she heard me come in she looked up and reached for me, pulling me into an embrace. She said," He's gone, he's found someone else."
I held her close, until her crying abated.
I asked if she would like a cup of tea, but she shook her head and instead went to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a very large whisky. Leaning back against the cabinet she took a long pull on the glass and being unused to strong drink started to cough and pulled such strange faces that I couldn't help but laugh.
When her fit had finished she laughed at herself too, then said," It's not as if I ever loved him."
"I hate him," I said.
She looked at me and said that she was sorry, she had never meant to cause me any harm. "How did you cause me any harm?" I asked.
"I meant to tell you when you were older, "she said and then continued to relate the following.
"I fell in love with your father when I was still in school, and he with me.
You were conceived when I was 16.
My parents drove him away.
He was killed in a car accident two months after you were born.
I'm so sorry, I should have held on to him, but I just wasn't strong enough.
His name was Frank, Francis Jonathon Kebble. He wasn't much older when he died than you are now."
She sat beside me on the couch and started to weep softly.
I put my arm around her shoulder and she put hers around my waist.
After a while she told me the story of how her parents had wanted her to put me up for adoption but she stubbornly resisted their efforts and eventually they kicked her, and me, out when she was seventeen.
She had lived hard and at times rough for some years, working all hours, at all sorts of jobs, just to survive. I had been left with all sorts of people during my first few years while she was out working.
One day she came to pick me up and found me crying, in a soiled nappy, all alone. The neighbours she'd left me with had taken her babysitting money and then gone out for the day.
She vowed that it would never happen again, and in desperation had contacted her parents.
They agreed that she could return home if she would marry the young manager of her father's business.
At first she thought that it might work, but despite both of them trying hard, it soon became apparent that he was weak, greedy and selfish.
Their public image of a loving couple had been no more than a sham. They had given performances worthy of Oscar winners, but behind closed doors her contempt for him, herself and her parents, had destroyed any chance of happiness for either of them.
His performance at work had deteriorated until the business was in danger of collapse.
By now, her father, an old man, was too tired to return to managing it. Jenny, my mother, had begged him to turn it over to her.
She had poured a second drink now and was entering the stage of drunkenness that encourages bragging.
She had performed well though; she had relegated her husband Roy to a position where he could do little harm.
Every so often she would describe him variously as; that worm; the ginger freak; lying little thief and in other more explicit terms.
The business had turned around and expanded to the point where we were very comfortably off, but her success had a devastating effect on Roy's fragile ego.
"He can't get a penny off me" she said pouring her third drink." He's lived of my family's indebtedness for too long"
Suddenly she stopped her outpouring of vitriol and looking at me said," You look so much like your father." She gave me a warm embrace then said," This must be such a shock to you, I'm so very sorry."
She got unsteadily to her feet," Time for bed."
I followed her upstairs and went back to my room. I was just about to climb into bed when I heard a thud. I quickly walked to my mother's bedroom door and knocked but receiving no reply, opened it and let myself in.
She hadn't made it to the bed, but collapsing on the floor had curled into a ball and was softly snoring.
Her nightdress had ridden up her thigh, higher than her sexiest shorts. I stood transfixed.
I called, "Mum," then more softly, "Mum." She was out like a light.
I bent down by her feet and by peering up the bottom of her nightdress I could see the crack of her backside and just the beginning of her vagina.
I pushed her nightdress up a fraction. In the dim light I could see her anus. I stood up and called again," Mum," no response.
I leaned down and shook her shoulder, again no response. Pushing her shoulder down, I forced her onto her back.
Her legs became slightly spread, and I lifted her nightdress until she was exposed from the waist down.
Her pubic hair was almost as blond as her head and had been bikini waxed. I knelt between her feet and slowly edged her knees apart until her vulva was fully visible.
Trembling I put my face as close to it as I could and took a deep breath. I examined her slit for a long time, then gently placing one shaking finger on it, parted her labia.
I saw the internal flesh that covered the pubic bone and the barest hint of the entrance to her vagina that lay below it. A fold of soft skin covered her clitoris.
I gently touched it, pushing the flesh upwards until I could see the little pink bump that marked the spot.
Using the thumb of my right hand I massaged it slowly and carefully until it became erect.
She stirred. She opened her legs wider and murmured," Oh Frank."
I continued the massage, she began to lubricate and while still massaging her glans with my thumb inserted one finger into the hole. She pushed herself against my finger. I inserted a second and she groaned and pushed back harder. I rhythmically pumped my fingers slowly in and out of her vagina as she arched her back in time with my thrusts.
Her hand came down on mine and pushed my fingers in deeper, and then she began to caress her clitoris. She pushed back vigorously, arching her body off the floor. "Now Frank, now," she moaned.
She lifted her head to look at me. When she managed to focus on my face her eyes went wide and she pushed my hand away. She leaned on her elbows and closed her legs.
She looked me in the eyes then her glance slipped to my crotch.
My erection had pushed the head of my penis through the gap in the front of my pyjamas. I looked at it, it was huge and I could see it pulsing, its purple tip engorged with blood.
My mother smiled, reached out a hand and said, "Help me onto the bed Frank."
I took her hand in mine and pulled her upright; then eased her onto the bed. She looked up at me, and then reaching with both hands pulled my head down towards her face. She kissed me gently on the lips, and then slowly began to explore my mouth with her tongue.
I lay down beside her. She slipped the shoulder of her nightgown down until I could see the aureole of her nipple.
She pulled my head towards it. Against the white of her un-tanned flesh it was as pink as her nail varnish had been that afternoon at the pool. As she exposed the whole nipple I could see that it was fully erect, she directed my mouth to it.
I began to suck hard," No Frank, gently, with your tongue, not your teeth." I ran my tongue around, then across the nipple and cupped her breast in my hand. It was firm and soft; as I moved my thumb across her nipple she let out a little groan. She pulled me across her body opening her legs, and then shrugging out of the top of her nightdress exposed both of her breasts to my sight. She pushed them together offering them each in turn to my tongue. They tasted delicious.
She eased me onto my back, and unbuttoning my pyjama top, slowly tasted first my own nipples then took a lick of salt from my armpits.
She slipped down my body licking and kissing and pecking until her head was level with my navel.
She undid the tie to my pyjama and exposed the length of my penis; cupping my balls in her hand, she delicately licked the tip.
I thought that it would explode.
She licked, nibbled and pecked all around the shaft then took the whole thing deep into her mouth. Moving her head up and down, occasionally using her teeth to add some extra friction she brought me to the point of climax, pulled back, waited, then did it again, and then a third time.
When she pulled back again she rose from the bed and took her tangled nightdress completely off. She posed for me for a second or two.
She removed my pyjamas and straddled me, sitting on my chest backwards. She moved her bottom up towards my face and as my chin parted her cheeks said," Put your tongue out." She positioned her anus over my mouth and I licked around her hole until it was sufficiently lubricated to allow some entry, but after only one or two thrusts she manoeuvred her vagina into position, and slowly began a grinding motion backwards and forwards around and around.