Incest Athletic Performance with Mom

[neerathemall]

I hear footsteps approaching, but I'm so transfixed by the situation that I remain motionless, the shining vibrator still in my hand.
"You didn't know?" he asks with a calm tone, standing by the door.
I put the vibrator down and look at him. "How long has this been going on?"
"About a year, but it got serious maybe six months ago."
The timeline makes sense. I think of our social outings, dinner with friends, parties we've attended, and our routine training sessions together. All that time wondering what's going on with her, now I know the answer.
"How could this happen?" I ask. "Eliza could go to jail over this. You know that, right? She'd go to jail. Her life would be ruined. Yours would, too."
He gulps. "Please don't say that. It's not as simple as..."
"She'd lose everything," I interject. "Her worldwide reputation. Her standing in the community. The endorsement deals. She'd even lose her coaching job, too. And for what?"
I stop myself before going further because I'm getting emotional. I want to yell at him, to scream in his face. I stop because Chris is 19 and this isn't his fault. The blame goes to Eliza because she's the mature person in this household. She's the mother in this family. The mother...
"Please don't be upset," he says.
"I'm not upset. I'm trying to figure this out."
It's obvious he's never thought of an excuse, because getting caught was never part of their plan. I'm sure they were so careful in covering their tracks and hadn't anticipated anyone snooping around in their home.
At my suggestion, we change the mood by going to a more comfortable setting in the living room, facing each other from different couches. He's still uncomfortable, but I have to get to the bottom of this.
"My mother had an injury last year," he says. "Lower back, do you remember?"
"Yes, I remember."
He's referring to when Eliza hurt her lower back from lifting weights. It put her out of commission for two weeks and she used acupuncture and ice packs to recover.
"Well, the doctor asked me to help with stretches, so we did that everyday in the living room. She'd lay on a yoga mat and my hands would press her back or legs. She said it helped with her athletic performance. When her training increased, she needed deeper stretches and massages."
"And that's how it started?" I ask.
"Yeah, that's how it started."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," he replies.
"Who made the first move?"
"Mom did," he replies.
I'm taken aback by the admission because I assumed that Chris made the first move. It feels worse that Eliza initiated all this, which is still difficult to believe. Part of me feels like there's more to the story, that it's more complex than I could ever imagine.
Another part of me feels like human sexuality is the most simple equation in the world; people need gratification. Eliza is only human. Her body responded to the stimulus.
"How did she make the first move?" I ask.
"She cupped my groin while stretching on the floor. She knew it was fucked up, but she did it anyway. She took my cock out and sucked it."
What a punch to the gut and I'm stunned by the candor.
"I don't know if I believe you. I'm starting to think that you put the vibrator on the table and left the lingerie scattered around. The moment she left the house you probably went through her stuff. A fetish of yours?"
The look on Chris's face is unwavering. He's not a young man who was caught red handed. Instead, he looks like an innocent party who carries a heavy secret. Either that or he knows how to lie.
"That's where mom leaves her things," he replies. "The sex toys are always on her table because she likes the aesthetics while doing her makeup. As for the lingerie, she always leaves them scattered around. She likes when I see them."
Again I marvel at how consistent this guy is. Either he's telling the truth or he's a complete sociopath who's stuck in a twisted fantasy.
"Just admit it, you were playing with your mother's things -- doing God knows what -- and now you're sticking to a fake story."
Chris thinks for a moment. "Move your car around the block so mom doesn't see it. Then come back here."
"Why?"
"Because she'll be home soon."