Incest A mom inadvertently falls in love with her son.

[neerathemall]

४


You cheated on someone to hook up with dad?" he asked, a look of shock on his face...his sweet mother a cheater.

"Not really," I answered, before adding, "but it wasn't a normal situation either."

"You have me confused," he said.

"Let me tell the whole story and it will make sense," I promised, as I realized I had never told anyone the complete story of how I met my husband (although it is a lot simpler than How I Met Your Mother).

"Sorry, you just have me curious," he said, "you seldom mention Dad."

"I don't?" I asked, realizing I suppose that was true.

"Not really," he nodded.

"Well, I will change that," I said, "for starters, you and your dad are a lot alike."

"We are?" he asked.

"Oh, God yes," I smiled, putting my hand on his leg subtly. "You have the same eyes, same smile, same laugh, same voice and, truth be told, the same body."

"Really?" he asked.

"Take off your glasses," I suggested, as I pulled out my phone. Once he did, I snapped a photo and stood up and grabbed a frame with a photo of Darren a few months before he passed and brought it back to the couch. I said, showing him the two photos, "Twins."

He laughed, "I think you need glasses."

"Oh honey," I said sweetly, "you're too hard on yourself, you're a very good looking young man and like your dad, you will be well sought after in college."

"Unlikely," he replied.

"Trust me, in college girls are looking for more than just the football quarterback."

"If you say so," he said, not really believing me.

"Maybe the story of your father and I will give you some confidence," I suggested, before continuing, "So it was a Halloween party and, being college, that meant it was dress like a slut and get away with it night. So to tease the crap out of Wally, who had a thing for superheroes, I dressed in a very skimpy Batgirl outfit, my identity partially hidden by the mask. Now Wally was a bit of a computer dork, back when computers were really a career opportunity. The party we went to was full of who today's youth would call nerds and geeks. I was having my own self-image crisis, sick of dating really good looking, buff, jocks who treated me like crap...thus I began dating a nice guy...Wally."

Paul joked, "That sure doesn't happen at my high school."

"College honey, everything changes in college," I smiled, again squeezing his leg tenderly. "Anyways, after a fair amount of wine and some scotch, which always lowers my inhibitions, Wally and I ended up having a quickie in the bathroom."

Paul gasped, "Mom!"

"Honey, you are eighteen and old enough to have such a conversation. Your father would have had the sex talk a couple of years ago with you if he was alive."

"I have the internet," he pointed out.

"I'm sure you do," I said, teasingly, making him blush. "Anyways, it may have been my inebriated state, it may have been the fact that Wally got off but I didn't, or it could have been how cute your father looked in his Batman suit, but I walked over to him and said."

I paused, wanting to see if Paul was listening.

"What did you say?" he asked excitedly.

"Before I continue," I said, "will you do me a favour?"

"Sure," Paul nodded.

"My feet are killing me," I said, "I wore four inch heels all day."

"That is crazy," he said.

"I know," I smiled, "the things we do to look good for men."

He asked, suddenly looking jealous, I thought, "Who were you wearing heels for?"

"No one particular," I shrugged. After a moment, I asked, "Will you massage my feet for me, honey?"

His eyes went big with a look of excitement as I repositioned myself to put my stocking-clad feet on his lap.

He tried to regain his composure as he said, "Sure, Mom," then began massaging my right foot.

"That feels so nice," I said softly, partly to tease him, but also because it was true.

"So what did you say to Dad?" Paul asked, as he stared at my feet and legs.

"You may never see your old Mother the same," I warned.

"I'll always see you as my Mother," he said.

That deflated me briefly, as I hoped he would see me as a lot more than his mother tomorrow, so I said, "I hope you can see me as more than just your Mother."

"What do you mean?" Paul asked, confused.

"Oh nothing," I sighed. "It's just that, well, sometimes I feel so old."

"Mom, you're forty, that is not even mid-life yet," he comforted me.