Flights of Consciousness
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, mt/Fa, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, BiSexual, Science Fiction, Incest, Mother, Son, Brother, Sister, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Slow,
Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A story or incest and the paranormal. What would a sixteen-year-old boy do if his consciousness could take flight and observe his loved ones at a distance? Would he become a voyeur and more, using his ability for prurient purposes, or would he use the gift to perform good deeds?
A small, bright light appeared in front of David Stanley's eyes and slowly expanded. At the same time, the world around him started to fade, melting away into a black void until the light swallowed the dark abyss. His consciousness fell away from his body and became one with the light, or at least that's what he believed happened.
On the other hand, he also believed he could be dying, but if he was the concept didn't seem to frighten him, which made him curious. That he could be curious led him to believe he still had a sense of self, that his ego was still intact. He also knew the light and his consciousness were without form or substance. He didn't know why he knew this fact. He just did.
Suddenly the light seemed to hover, and a scene came into focus below the light. He recognized the room, a kitchen, and its occupant, his mother. The scene was fuzzy around the edges, and the colors were faded like the colors in a failing computer monitor. Obviously, the light containing his sense of self had vision, which confused him. Without form or substance, the light could have no eyes, but still it could see. It didn't have the benefit of sound, though, and he wondered if his ego carried any other senses during the trip. He watched his mother's lips moving as she spoke... no, he decided, she's not speaking; she's singing. Her hips swayed alluringly to a syncopated beat, and she twirled around, dancing to the sounds of music the bright light and David's ego couldn't hear.
His mother had a wooden spoon in her hand, and for a few seconds she waved it like a conductor's baton, directing the music she was enjoying as she continued to sway to its beat. As she dipped the spoon into a pot on the stove to stir whatever she was cooking, the light started to fade, and the black void returned around the edges.
He opened his eyes, and the world around him quickly came into focus. He still occupied a chair in Ms. Shannon's English class where he'd been when the episode began, but now the young teacher stood over him with a worried look. She'd been standing at the blackboard, David remembered, when the light started to form. Now she stood next to him. Time had elapsed during the event, he realized - another curious fact that meant little in his befuddled state.
"Ah, David, you're back amongst us. Are you all right? You've had us worried."
"Yes. What happened?"
The pretty teacher shrugged, causing her perky breasts to sway, not unlike the sway of his mother's breasts as she danced during his... what? He tried to label the event, and although it didn't seem possible, he decided he'd had an out-of-body experience.
"Can you stand up?"
David pushed himself to his feet with ease.
"Walk with me. You need to see the school nurse."
"No, I'm fine, Ms. Shannon," David said and sat back down. He blushed, feeling extremely embarrassed to be the focus of everyone's attention.
"You're not fine. You suddenly slumped on your chair, and if Tim hadn't caught you, you'd have fallen to the floor." Tim Darlington, a classmate and friend, occupied the chair to his right. "You were completely unconscious. Come with me, David," she said and turned to Ellen Farley at the front of the class. "Ellen, take charge." Then she announced to the rest of the class, "Read the short story on page ninety-two of your book." The class groaned. "It's only three pages long. I'll give a short quiz on the story at the end of the class."
The groans increased in volume as David followed Ms. Shannon out of the classroom. An hour later, Carol Stanley, the boy's worried mother, picked him up at the school. She queried him as she drove toward their home.
"Should I take you to a doctor, Son?" she asked.
"No, I'm fine, Mom, really."
"But Ms. Shannon said you passed out in class, and the nurse thinks you might have had a seizure, or a stroke, or something."
The teenager had not told the school nurse about his vision. Intuitively, he'd felt she wouldn't believe him. Heck, he could hardly believe it himself, and he'd experienced it. Should he tell his mother? He needed to talk with someone about what happened.
"I didn't have a seizure or stroke, Mom. I think I had an out-of-body experience." He went on to explain in detail what had happened and the vision he'd seen, and as he described the kitchen scene, he watched his mother's eyes widen with shock.
"What was I wearing?"
"Cut-off jeans and a red blouse, though the color of the blouse was faded. All the colors seemed washed out to me." He'd seen the blouse on her before and knew it was brighter in reality than it had been during his vision.
She gasped! "Son! When I received the call from the school nurse, I hurried and threw on this dress. I couldn't come to the school in cut-off jeans and my old, red blouse. Fifteen minutes before the call, I was making spaghetti sauce and singing along with the radio!"
Stunned, David sucked in air. "You're kidding! I thought my mind was making something up, sort of like a dream." What he'd seen during the event had been real! Amazing! Instead of frightening him, this new knowledge exhilarated him.
"What song was playing?"
"I don't know. I could see but couldn't hear."
Strange. More than strange, he thought. As he pondered what happened, fear replaced the euphoria he'd first experienced when he discovered he'd actually watched his mother from a distance.
"No doctors, Mom. I don't want to become a lab rat."
She shook her head. "You might be right. Still..."
"Uh-uh. No doctors. I'm fine. Mostly, I'm embarrassed."
She reached and squeezed his hand. "Okay, no doctors for now, but if it happens again..."
"What kind of doctor would you take me to - a neurologist, an internist? Maybe a psychiatrist? If it happens again, I still won't admit any out-of-body experience to anyone but you, Mom, so you'd be wasting your time and mine."
Carol Stanley was worried. She'd married young and gave birth to David a year after her wedding day. Then Darla came along about a year later. Five years later, her husband was killed in an automobile accident. The proceeds from life insurance policies helped, but she had to find work to make ends meet. She discovered she had a knack for selling and soon established her own business as a manufacturer's representative. The business allowed her to work out of her home and care for her children.
After a reasonable time, she'd tried dating but had failed to find love again. Following a few disappointing excursions into romance, she'd backed away from the frenzied dating scene. She met men in the course of her business, and she traveled to trade shows periodically, giving her ample opportunities for sex on her terms. If love came around again, she'd be happy, but she was happy anyway. She'd quit frantically searching for love from a man and gave all her love to her children.
Both her children were good students and rarely gave her serious trouble. Oh, sometimes she wanted to strangle them, usually when they fought with each other like cats and dogs, but for the most part, she was proud of them, proud of their maturity and good sense, and proud of their appearance - David was a tall, handsome boy, and Darla was cute and all girl. Then David had his first out-of-body event, and her life changed. She had a son with an unusual ability - or curse. She couldn't decide which.
This morning, David had arrived for breakfast, looking shamefaced and refusing to look her in the eye. He's feeling guilty about something, she assumed. When she queried him, he mumbled and refused to discuss his problem, whatever it was, which was unlike him. Then Darla bounced bright-eyed and enthusiastic into the kitchen, and David made some cutting remark, which set Darla off, and soon the siblings were bickering. Situation normal.
Almost normal. Her son still refused to look directly at her. Why me, she asked herself. Why is he reacting differently toward me? A horn honked, and Darla jumped up.
"That's my ride. I'll be late coming home from school this afternoon, Mom, gymnastic practice and tryouts."
"All right. Good luck, sweetheart. I hope you make the team."
Darla had always been the athlete in the family. David was interested in math and science, not sports, but he wasn't what the kids called a nerd. With broad shoulders and a deep chest, he excelled in swimming, and always made the swim team.
When Darla rushed from the house, Carol turned to her son. He blushed and studiously studied the tabletop, and she wondered if he'd had another out-of-body episode.
The first time his consciousness took flight, David had been fourteen years old. Another year went by before his second out-of-body experience gripped his consciousness. Like the first one, Carol had been the subject of the scene he'd witnessed. She'd been seated in a restaurant with a friend having lunch that day, and he described the scene perfectly when she talked with him later. When he lapsed unconsciousness the second time, David had been in a friend's home. The second trip lasted longer, about a half hour, so when he woke up a paramedic was bending over him. His friend's mother had become frantic when she couldn't revive him and had called an ambulance. While he was in the hospital, Carol insisted on a battery of tests designed to detect seizures or strokes, but the doctors found nothing. Like the first time, the boy had declined to tell anyone about the visions. If the events had remained at only one per year, Carol wouldn't have been so worried. But the incidents had increased in frequency. During the last month they'd arrived about once a week, and she'd been the subject of all of his visions.
David didn't appear guilty when he went up to bed last night, she thought. So whatever happened took place between now and then. Suddenly, she blushed. He watched me! Saw me last night! She swallowed the excess saliva that had suddenly filled her mouth.
"You had another event, didn't you, David?"
He nodded, but wouldn't look at her.
"Let me guess. It was about ten o'clock. Right?"
He flushed and nodded sheepishly.
"Damn it! Double damn it!" She plunked herself on the chair next to him and took his hand in both of hers.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
"Oh, it's not your fault, David. I know you have no control over those mental trips of yours, but damn it, I can't go through life worrying whether my privacy is being invaded or not. If you keep having these events, you need to learn how to control them." She chuckled. "Though I suspect even if you could control the length of your trips, you would've dallied to watch me last night."
"No, I'd have left you to your privacy."
Grinning widely, she said, "Liar. Well, what did you think of your old mom? Was I sexy?"
"Yeah." Another sheepish expression.
"Look at me, Son."
He raised his eyes, but then lowered them again.
"Yes, I masturbate. I'm a normal, healthy woman, Son, and my only sexual outlet is masturbation, though from now on, I'll do it under the sheets, not on top. I know you play with yourself, too. After all, I do the laundry. And it's my guess, you do it more than I."
"Probably," he muttered.
"Did seeing me excite or repel you?"
He raised his eyes again. "Mom, watching you last night was the sexiest thing that's ever happened to me. It was strange though. While watching you, I felt extremely excited, but when I reentered my body, I was... well, I was soft."
Carol chuckled. "Not for long, I bet."
David laughed. "No, not for long. I suspect my sheets will need to be laundered today." He glanced up at the clock. "I need to run, or I'll be late. May we talk some more about this tonight?"
After making her morning business calls, Carol stripped down and hopped in the shower. As she dried herself with a fluffy towel, she wondered if her son was hovering over her at that moment. Curiously, the thought excited her. Looking up, she winked. She reached and pinched first one baby-chewed nipple and then the other. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she said out loud, "Not bad for a thirty-seven-year-old woman with two teenaged kids." Her breasts were still perky. Oh, they sagged a bit, but not much, and she still had the same measurements she'd had when she married, except her hips had widened a little. David had obviously liked what he'd seen. He'd admitted to jacking off after reentering his body.
Naked, she strolled from her bedroom to his. Pulling down the covers, she inspected the sheet by running her fingers over the surface. Yes, she felt the crusted blotches of his semen. She groaned inwardly and felt twinges of arousal center in her pussy.
Was he watching now? Not likely. The events seemed to happen once a week, not every day, not yet, at least. Rolling over onto his bed, she raised her knees and splayed her legs. One hand went to her pussy, the other to a breast, and she fondled both. Closing her eyes, she pictured her son stretched out on the bed last night as she was lying on it now. In her mind's eye, she could see his cock, long and hard in his stroking fist. Her fingers reached inside her vagina and scooped up some of her natural lubricant, and as her fingers rolled around her clitoris, her imagination gave her a view of her son's busy hand stroking his cock.
Last night after his journey, he'd relived his vision and jacked off as he replayed the sight of her fingers in her pussy. Was he thinking about her now? Was he reliving the scene yet again? Was he sitting in a classroom with a hard-on while scrutinizing lewd images of her nakedness in his mind? Was he watching her play with her pussy? She groaned and shoved a second finger inside her.
Last night, he'd watched her shove fingers inside her like she was doing now, and instead of being embarrassed, like she should, the concept excited her beyond belief. She'd told him she would masturbate under the sheets from now on, but she wouldn't. She wanted him to see her, wanted him to watch. She knew her desire to be watched, especially by her own son, was indeed perverted, but she was the involuntary subject of his visions. Should she stop being herself merely because her son could observe her most private activities? Soon, she'd travel out of town to a trade show. No doubt she'd climb in bed with Hank again. She wasn't in love with the man, but she enjoyed sex with him, probably because she only saw him four times a year. Should she defer this necessary infrequent source of pleasure because her son could be watching?
She couldn't stop her son's invasions of her privacy any more than he could. With both of them victims to his curse, they could either accept the situation and go on with their lives or seek help from professionals to somehow eliminate his flights of consciousness. But if they sought help, David had the situation pegged correctly. He'd become a lab rat to those investigating paranormal incidents. And what or whom did his flights hurt? It wasn't as if he visited others during his journeys. He watched only her. She could cope with her loss of privacy to protect her son.
Besides, she'd just rediscovered the pleasure she felt when she was being surreptitiously watched. As a teenaged girl, she'd given a neighborhood boy a few thrills when he peeked in her window at night. Knowing the boy's eyes were on her, she'd stripped and eventually touched herself to increase the peeper's arousal - and hers. The peeper was harmless. She knew him. He was so shy he stuttered when he tried to talk to girls, but he wasn't shy about sneaking across a few fences and cozying up to her window. He'd masturbate and spray the bushes with his come while she stretched out on her bed and pleasured herself. She even left a light on and cracked the drapery enough so he could see her easily. Carol wasn't the only person he spied on, so eventually, the boy was caught. Afterwards, she'd missed his eyes avidly watching her, missed how exciting it had been to know he stood in the bushes outside her window with his cock in his hand.
"Are you watching me now, David?" she whispered as her fingers flashed back and forth over her clitoris. "I'm lying in your bed finger fucking myself. I can feel your dried come on the sheets under my bum. I wish it were wet. I'd rub it on my clit instead of using my own juices." She moaned. The thought of rubbing David's come all over her cunt made her arousal soar. "If you're watching, David, come on me. Let your consciousness tighten up your imaginary balls and spurt come, squirt your semen without substance or form all over me!"
Her body stiffened and her hips rose up from the bed. She plunged a third finger inside her and wailed as an orgasm gripped her. It was a powerful climax, more forceful and thrilling than the orgasm she'd given herself the night before. "Fuck me, David!" she shouted. "Fuck me with your cock, a cock without form or substance!"
She collapsed and a minute later rolled to her side. Tears welled in her eyes. "You're sick, Carol Stanley," she whispered. "David doesn't need professional help. You do."
Rolling from the bed, she stripped the sheets and carried them to the laundry room. Fantasies. She'd always let her mind wander, fantasizing about many things from love and sex to business and health. She'd just indulged in one of her fantasies. That's all it was.
David felt his cock lengthening, his fifth hard-on that morning. He couldn't stop the images from intruding, images he'd witnessed while his mother played with herself the night before. They invaded his mind without volition, moving from frame to frame like a video sometimes, or held steady as if they were still photographs at other times. It was bad enough his consciousness left his body whenever it had an urge to take flight. Now his imagination couldn't stop seeing his naked mother, couldn't stop reliving how naughty she'd looked, how sexy and... downright nasty. God, she'd been delightfully nasty, twisting her nipples, plunging fingers in and out of her pussy, the first real pussy David had ever seen.
When he'd returned from the journey, he'd expected to find himself as hard as he'd ever been, but while his consciousness was out of his body, it felt nothing, experienced nothing. But within seconds after his return, his cock had sprung straight up, assuming the already fully aroused state of his ego, and with just a few strokes, he'd climaxed, spurting semen onto his belly, which had dribbled off onto the sheets. A half-hour later, he'd jacked off again while reliving the event, and once more an hour later, then twice this morning, once just after he opened his eyes, and again in the shower.
His mother had been correct - without doubt he masturbated more than she. Her comment about invading her privacy bothered him, though. He wished he could willfully initiate and stop the events. The school no longer called an ambulance when he became unconscious, and he'd been careful to advise his friends and their parents not to become too concerned when he slumped over into an unconscious state, but still the events frequently embarrassed him.
Resting his back against a tree while sitting on the grass during his lunch break, David tried to ignore his hard-on and concentrated. He struggled desperately to initiate an event, but no pinpoint of light appeared. If he could learn to control the events would he stop them, he asked himself. If he could stop them would he never allow another one to take flight? No, he decided. His consciousness trips made him unique; they'd become personally important to him, a habit like masturbating. Besides, if he had another opportunity to watch his mother masturbate, he'd take it. Grinning, he remembered his lie, but his wise mother had called him on it. No, last night if he'd had control, he wouldn't have backed away leaving her to her privacy. As it was, the trip ended too soon for him. He hadn't seen her have an orgasm.
Suddenly the light appeared and swallowed the black abyss that ate up the world around him. Moments later he hovered over a group of girls, which surprised him. He searched for his mother, but she wasn't among the females. His sister, Darla, captured his attention, though, and another girl his age, Ellen Farley, was among the group. He knew the names of the other girls, but they were his sister's friends, not his. Was he visiting Darla or Ellen, or one of the others? His question was answered when Darla walked away from the group and his consciousness followed her. For some reason, his sister had joined his mother as an object to be observed during his mental trips.
Perversely, the teenager wondered if his sister masturbated like his mother. Now he could connect with her, would she give him an opportunity to watch her pleasure herself?
The episode abruptly ended, and he opened his eyes. My trips are getting out of hand, becoming even more complicated, he thought. That's two episodes in two days. If the frequency of the trips continues to accelerate, soon I'll be unconscious more than conscious. He groaned and concentrated again. Somehow, he had to gain control over the episodes. If he could take the trips at will and end them when he wanted, perhaps his ego wouldn't take unbidden flights. David envisioned his mother and made an extreme effort mentally, hoping beyond hope, that he could take a trip to see her.
Amazed and pleased, he watched the light appear, and soon he hovered over his mother. She was working at her computer. God, she's sexy, his ego thought. At thirty-seven, his mother was a striking, beautiful woman. She was model slim, except for her hips, which were womanly wide. Encased in a halter-top, her perky breasts were perfectly shaped and proportionate to the rest of her body. Her long, shapely legs stretched in front of her, bare and smooth and sleek. She was wearing the cut-off jeans again. Her pretty feet were bare, too, and her toenails shined bright red, matching the color of her fingernails and lipstick. His ego smiled. Could a being without form or substance smile? That's what it felt like to David. The smile widened and a sensation of love, not arousal, washed over him as she pushed her long, dark hair back behind one ear, a sensuous ear, pink and almost translucent with intricate curls and shapes. Her dark eyes focused on the monitor, and he gazed intently, trying to see what she was doing on the computer, but the flickering, unfocused light didn't allow a close inspection.
He'd created the journey. Could he end it? He concentrated as before, but nothing changed except his mother when she pushed the computer chair back and rose to her feet. Starting a journey wouldn't be that helpful unless he could end it just as easily. What had he done differently to start the trip? Extreme mental effort didn't do the trick. He wished he could end the episode as easily as he'd started it, and suddenly the light began to fade. Was wishing the answer? He wasn't sure. He'd need to experiment some more.
When he opened his eyes, Darla was sitting beside him on the grass.
"You were off on one of your trips, weren't you?" she said, her dark eyes twinkling with mirth. She held his hand in one of hers.
"Yes." He'd given his sister an abbreviated version of his journeys, enough to quell her curiosity. David had told Darla and others he was adept at remote viewing. Shortly after the first trip, he'd researched his ability on the Internet and discovered a psi phenomenon referred to as remote viewing, which was actually a special form of clairvoyance. Instead of cards, pictures, or numbers, individuals with remote viewing capabilities could describe buildings and landscapes - objects or places they'd never seen. Darla certainly didn't know he observed his mother when his thoughts took flight, and he decided he wouldn't tell even his mother about Darla suddenly appearing as a subject in his visions, let alone tell his sister. His mother might be able to handle the loss of her privacy, but Darla would throw a fit.
"Where did you go?"
"I'm not sure, but it was beautiful - breathtaking actually."
David was happy she didn't ask him to describe the scene. Describing his mother's erotic, nearly translucent ears or bright red toenails might freak out his sister. He and Darla frequently argued, but he loved her. She was his sister, and he'd walk over hot coals to help her with any problem she had. Glancing at his wristwatch, he said, "We'd better get moving." After standing, he reached and helped his sister to her feet. "Good luck with the trials this afternoon, though you don't need luck. You're a shoe-in, sis."
She grinned, her dark eyes twinkling. "Thanks."
She turned and hurried away. He watched her and smiled. Nice butt - like Mom's, he thought.
"I believe I gained some control over my trips like you suggested, Mom." David said as he came in the door from school. "I initiated a journey today and watched you working on your computer. You were wearing a halter-top and the cut-off jeans." And I enjoyed your long, sleek legs, your sexy ears, and adorable painted toes.
"When?" she asked, not to verify the trip so much as to give her time to slow down her racing heart. When he'd mentioned he'd initiated a trip, she'd immediately wondered if he'd taken it while she'd been naked on his bed rubbing her backside over his crusted semen while touching herself, and although she'd wished at the time he was watching her, she didn't really want him to know she'd acted so shameless.
"During my lunch hour. I had trouble stopping the episode at first. I think control of the events have something to do with wishing. Strange, huh?"
"Yeah. Extreme mental effort has no effect, but when I wished I could start a trip, one started, and the same thing happened when I ended the journey. I haven't tried to start and stop another one yet, so my conclusion could be flawed." David debated whether to inform her he'd had an unbidden episode as well, one that featured his sister rather than the pretty woman sitting across the kitchen table from him. No, he'd keep that episode to himself. He didn't want to deal with the privacy issue with his sister.
"Try again right now, David." She could see her request shocked him a little. "I'm worried about you, Son. If you don't gain some control, you'll soon be unconscious more than conscious. What you really need to learn is how to stop an unbidden trip when it starts. That way, you won't be slumping unconscious at inappropriate times. So, if you can, start a trip right now and stop it before it progresses to the point your ego leaves your body and makes your body unconscious."
Nodding, he closed his eyes and wished he could take flight to visit his mother. Nothing. He opened his eyes and shook his head.
"Maybe I can't be so available, like sitting in the same room with you. I'll go to another room, and you can try again," she suggested, and without waiting for agreement, she stood and left the room, finally locking herself in the guest bath. Gazing at herself in the oval mirror, she quelled an urge to be a little naughty. She wanted to tweak her nipples, give the boy a little thrill if the experiment worked. Gazing down at her breasts, she realized she didn't need to touch them to make them hard. Just the thought of her son's eyes on her had been as effective as if her own fingers had pinched them. She grimaced, feeling flushed as her blood heated. Her son needed to gain control, but so did she. Since she discovered he'd watched her play with herself, she'd been in a high state of arousal most of the time.
In the kitchen, David laid his head on his arms resting on the table, concentrated and wished he could see his mother. A pinpoint of light appeared and started to spread, so he wished for the light to disappear, which unfortunately had no affect on the normal progress of a journey. Soon the light and his ego hovered over his mother in the hall bath. Gazing at her beautiful image in the mirror, he wished the colors were brighter, not washed out, and suddenly the colors shined bright as if his mother and the room had stepped from a deep shadows into full sunlight. But the colors continued to brighten, finally becoming too bright, so he wished they'd dampen, and he watched the light fade again, quickly moving beyond washed out to complete black, which frightened him. Would his future journeys take place in a black void where he could see nothing? He wished for more color, and light filled the bathroom, becoming brighter and brighter to the point, if he'd had eyes, the brightness would have blinded him. He groaned and wished for the light to dim again. In a split-second, the light faded until no light existed at all.
Now instead of washed out color, it appeared he could experience only the complete absence of light or so much light he could see nothing but the light. But he sensed the light moved through a range of brightness in the split-second it changed. It wasn't an on/off switch. He needed a method to control the degree of brightness, something like a volume knob on a stereo. Curiously, a mental knob appeared, but with no hands, David didn't know how to manipulate the knob. He reasoned, however, if his ego had offered a mental knob, perhaps it would also offer a mental hand with fingers and an opposing thumb so he could adjust the color. Without a hand coming into view, David turned the mental knob and slowly watched the light adjust with each click of the knob. When the scene before him appeared as close to perfect color wise as he could make it, he wished his ego would remember this setting so he wouldn't need to fiddle with it on a subsequent journey.
The teenager took a few moments to view his mother. With better color and focus, he could see something in her eyes he hadn't noticed before. He couldn't label the expression, but he vowed to watch for it again on a future trip when he had more time. Wishing for the trip to end, the light started to fade. When he opened his eyes, he was alone. He stood and walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door.
"Well, did the experiment work?" his mother asked when she opened the door.
He shook his head, but then related how he'd started and stopped the trip and how he'd been able to adjust the color.
"Amazing, David! You're truly gaining more and more control. I'm confident you'll soon lick the problem of unwanted, inconvenient journeys." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, a mother's hug, loving and full of warmth. Then she felt his cock lengthen against her. Gasping silently, she stepped back and studied his face. He was blushing again.
Observing his mother's condemning expression, he said, "Sorry, Mom. I couldn't stop it. I tried. I really tried, but..."
"Not to worry, Son. I understand." Good gracious, did she ever understand. She wanted to take him into her arms again, but this time as a woman, not a mother. She shook the desire away, and they walked together back to the kitchen table.
David was mortified. His mother had hugged him no differently than she'd hugged him a million times before, but this time as her arms went around him, an image of her lying on her bed naked and touching herself intruded, and then another, and another, flashing one after another like a slide show.
Get a grip, he told himself. She's your mother, not a potential girlfriend. He wanted to slap his erect cock, slap it silly until it returned to its flaccid state.
Carol rose and pulled a couple of soft drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to her son. They both needed to cool off, and a cold drink would help. She settled back onto a chair across the table from him.
"I was afraid something like this would happen," she said. "You've been reliving what you saw last night over and over again today. Correct?"
David nodded and decided being as honest as possible would be the best approach to the problem. Perhaps his mother could help him stop the unbidden images dashing in and out of his mind. "Yes, I spent most of the day with an erection, which is as embarrassing as slumping over unconscious, maybe more so. I noticed a few girls snickering behind their hands with their eyes fixed on the bulge in my pants. Between classes, I had to carry my books over the lump to hide it. I tried to think about other things, but no matter how hard I tried, images of you naked on your bed entered my mind."
Did he really try to stop the images? Not likely, Carol thought. Oh, he probably tried to stop them from time to time, but if I know teenaged boys, he didn't try that hard. And I'm just as bad as he is. I'm not trying very hard to control my desire to be watched, either. She grimaced and shook her head, and then regretted her expression. She could see the boy believed she was upset at him, not at herself.
"You misunderstood, Son. I'm not upset at you. What's happening to you is fairly normal."
"I disagree. It's not normal for a teenager to be excited sexually about his mother."
"Sure it is. My brother went to great lengths to peek at his mother or me, and I never considered him abnormal. Neither did Mother."
In fact, Carol remembered a number of situations she'd purposefully conceived and executed that allowed her brother to see her uncovered breasts or the gusset of her panties without him aware of her purpose, and a couple of times she'd actually presented her nubile body completely naked to his bugged-out eyes. She laughed silently. Should she tell her son about these incidents to alleviate his guilt? No, she told herself, don't broaden this discussion to include additional titillating situations. He's having enough problems with the real images of me being naughty without giving his fertile imagination new raw material to deal with.
"Really?" He grinned. "Did Uncle Jim succeed?"
Like her son couldn't stop his hard-on when she hugged him, she couldn't stop the blush that spread across her face and upper chest. "Yes. I even helped him succeed a few times."
"That's surprising. What about Grandmother? Did she cooperate, too?" Not so surprising, David thought. Darla, he was sure, had let him see her half naked a few times. Although, he couldn't remember his mother ever doing the same.
Carol shrugged. "I don't know," she said, which was a lie. She'd noticed a few incidents when her mother had been as accommodating as she'd been, perhaps not so blatant in her approach, but then her mother had more experience teasing the male of the species at that time. She glanced at her son's crotch. He was hard and a wet spot had appeared at the apex of the bulge in his trousers. "You're just like Jim. He spent most of his teenaged years with an erection. Have you been able to relieve yourself today?"
He blushed again. "Yes, this morning in the shower, but..."
A smile cracked her face, and a wicked thought entered her mind. "But you're hurting now, aren't you?"
He groaned and nodded.
"Go on. Go to your room and give yourself some relief." I'd do the same, but he'd peek. He'd take a trip and watch me. No, not until he's finished. When his ego leaves his body, it doesn't feel anything. He'll give himself a come before he takes a trip. I'll have time to give myself some relief, too, relief I need as badly as he.
"Go on. Darla will be home soon." And I need to come before she arrives.
He rose to his feet and looked down at his tented pants. Carol looked, too.
"Impressive," she commented and smiled. "Go on." God, I'd love to watch him. I enjoy watching as much as I like to be watched. She remembered a few instances when she surreptitiously watched her brother fist his cock. Just before her son exited the room, she said, "Lock your door. I might be tempted to watch you."
His head swiveled, and he gazed at her with a shocked expression. "Mother!"
"Well, you watched me. Turnabout would only be fair. Correct?" When he stammered, she added. "Go on. I won't watch. I'm just teasing." She smiled again. "Enjoy."
When she heard the door to his room click shut, she reached inside her cut offs. Her panties were soaked, and she realized part of her son's arousal was probably caused by her pheromones wafting in the air. She pushed the gusset of her panties to the side, and not more than five minutes later, she groaned as an orgasm rippled through her body. She slumped in the chair with a small smile on her face wondering if David had watched her, hoping he hadn't seen how sluttish she'd just acted. A dichotomy. While she'd been touching herself, she'd hoped beyond hope he'd been hovering above her. She'd even talked nasty to an imaginary David without form or substance floating somewhere in the room. Now she felt guilty, mostly because she'd used incestuous fantasies to increase her arousal.
Shrugging, she rose to her feet and washed her hands at the kitchen sink. Her hands smelled fresh and clean now, but not her pussy. She knew she still reeked of sex. She'd need to do more than wash her hands to eliminate the evidence of her recent arousal. Turning, she strode purposefully toward her bedroom.
Inside his room, David lay in lethargic harmony, enjoying the relief of his recent climax. He appreciated how his mother was handling everything, and shuddered to think how someone like Tim Darlington's mother would have acted in the same situation. She'd been the parent to call an ambulance during his second journey.
He owed it to his mother to try to learn more control. Feeling confident he could start and stop an episode, he still needed to learn how to stop an unbidden journey before his body became unconscious. He closed his eyes and wished to see his mother. Seconds later, he hovered over her as she entered her bathroom. Completely forgetting the purpose of his trip, he watched as she dropped the cut-offs and the panties she wore to the floor. She ran water in the sink, checked the temperature with her fingers, and finally held a washcloth under the water. She soaped the cloth and then raised one foot up to the counter, presenting the sexiest view David had ever seen. If his ego carried the ability to voice sounds during a trip, his mother would have heard his heartfelt groan of pleasure.
After briskly rubbing the soapy cloth over her vulva, she rinsed the washcloth, and washed away any soap on, in and around her pussy. She rinsed the cloth again, and rubbed it over her cunt as briskly as she'd applied soap to the cloth. Looking up, she winked! Jeez! Could she see him? No, she'd never seen him before. She used a towel to dry her pussy and upper inner-thighs.
Glancing up again, she removed her blouse and bra. After picking up her dirty clothes, she tossed them in her hamper and stood naked in her walk-in closet. She doesn't mind if I see her naked, David's ego thought. She's wondering if I'm watching her, and the lewd, sexy view she'd offered of her pussy earlier could have been presented in a more ladylike fashion.
She pulled a sundress from her closet and pulled it over her head. Grinning, she started to leave the room, and David quickly backed away from his trip.
When his eyes opened, his cock moved from flaccid to completely hard in a second. His hand barely touched it, and it exploded yet again. He was still squirting semen onto his belly when a knock sounded.
"David, when you're finished, come to the kitchen and help me prepare dinner," she said through the door.
"Okay," he replied, his voice cracking.
He had one question he wanted answered. Had she pulled on a clean pair of panties before she left her bedroom, or was her sweet smelling pussy bare under the sundress she now wore?