Chapter 1

It was a relief to finally pull into our driveway after my hectic three-year schedule to finish College. Previously bringing home most of my belongings, I only had one suitcase and my computer bag to haul to my room. Opening the front door, I was surprised to see my Aunt Monica conversing with Mom on the couch. I hadn’t seen her car parked in the drive, so Mom must have brought her over.

When Mom saw me, she jumped up and ran to me for a hug. Pressing her face against my neck, she inhaled deeply. My senses were bombarded all at once. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest, her berry-scented hair aroma, and her moist lips on my skin immediately made me relax and glad to be back home. Backing off, she exclaimed, “Definitely my son. Same wonderful smell.”

Aunt Monica rolled her eyes, witnessing Mom’s familiar ritual. Castigating her sister, she scolded, “Melissa, he’s an adult now. You still treat him like a child.”

She was right. Mom had done this since I was little. Starting as playful teasing, it had transformed into a permanent greeting ritual. It was bothersome when I was younger, especially when others were present, but for the last few years, I’ve craved her motherly affection.

She retreated to the couch to sit with my aunt while I sat in a chair opposite them. Mom commanded the conversation as she inquired about my activities from the last couple of weeks. My mind focused more on how Mom hadn’t aged in the last three years. My schedule didn’t allow much time at home, but if anything, she looked sexier than when I first began the accelerated degree program.

Every time I returned home for a weekend, Mom and I would spend all of our time together. Our relationship gradually matured in the last few years and I accepted the fact that I was in love with my mother.

Monica’s appearance had noticeably changed during the three years I attended college. My memories of her when we grew up together were of a gangly, skinny, and plain-looking girl. Her body had filled out the last few years. Smaller framed than Mom, she had transformed into an elegant and alluring young lady.

As Mom shifted her attention to Monica to discuss her shopping list, I took the opportunity to compare the physical attributes of the two attractive women.

Monica’s shorter skirt revealed six inches of her upper legs. They were as smooth as Mom’s but were longer and thinner. Mom’s legs were curvier and I wondered how much thicker her thighs were than my aunt’s. Mom’s legs were tanned light golden brown while Monica’s were almost white. It made sense, because I knew Mom liked to sit out in the sun and my aunt always preferred to read indoors.

Traveling up their bodies, I paused on their blouses. As Mom was older and had larger breasts, I hoped they looked perky without any support. Monica’s younger and more petite frame would probably allow her to go braless much of the time, but I’m sure she was wearing one now for Mom’s benefit.

Finally reaching their similar, heart-shaped faces, it was easy to see they were genetically related. Their smiles and appealing eyes displayed their joyful personalities. Their high cheekbones added to their sex appeal.

My aunt’s hairstyle matched Mom’s pixie cut. Mom’s brunette color was noticeably darker than Monica’s beige-colored hair. Their matching brown eyes complemented each of their hair colors perfectly.

“Wake up, Alex! Time to go,” Mom blurted out to me, breaking me out of my trance.

“Sorry, Mom. The long drive tired me. Guess I drifted off. Where are we going?”

Mom explained, “You’re going to drive Monica to the store to pick up some items for dinner tonight. Take your stuff to your room and get going. We’re running behind.”

“Sure, Mom. Glad to help,” I replied and stood to follow her instructions.

After throwing my suitcase and laptop bag in my room, I walked to the living room where my aunt was already heading out the front door. As I closed the door, Mom yelled, “Don’t you and your sister take too long shopping. I need those groceries for tonight’s meal.”

“My aunt, Mom. Not my sister,” I corrected her for the millionth time. She chuckled at my expected response. She often referred to Monica as my sister — for good reason. She raised us as siblings. It began twenty-one years ago.

It was the night of my birth. Dad was ten years older than Mom when he married her, right out of high school. He had built a thriving business and before their first anniversary, they decided to start a family.

His parents disapproved of their marriage, believing their son married a woman lower than their elitist, social circle. On the other hand, Mom’s parents loved being with them. After Dad dropped Mom off at the hospital, when her labor started, he drove to her parent’s house and picked them up as they wanted to be together for the birth.

On the drive back, a drunk driver ran into them, head-on, and killed everyone. When the attending staff became aware of the accident, they didn’t inform Mom until the next day to ensure a safe birth. Devastated with the loss of her parents and husband, she momentarily thought about calling his parents to help out. She knew they were notified, but they never called so she thought they were probably grieving and didn’t want to be bothered.

After a week’s stay at home, she received notice of a lawsuit from his parents. It turns out they were more interested in obtaining their son’s assets and business, more than inquiring about their new grandson. Fortunately, the law firm Dad kept on retainer was more than glad to go to bat for her. It was an ugly fight and the parents accused Mom of cheating on Dad. She readily agreed to a paternity test, knowing the result would be in her favor.

Her lawyers were more than surprised the parents continued the battle even though the odds were stacked against them. The judge quickly saw the injustice and sided with Mom and even ruled that the plaintiffs reimburse Mom for all legal fees. Their outburst in the courtroom when they called her a cheating slut almost landed them in jail for contempt. Needless to say, she never heard from them again.

The stress of being a single parent was amplified when she assumed responsibility for the care of her sister. Being the older sibling, she had helped her mom care for Monica in her early years. My aunt was five at the time of the accident and Mom was elated when her parents’ Last Will granted her guardianship. Selling off the business and her parent’s estate along with the settlement from the accident provided Mom with enough resources to remain home and rear her family.

Monica was always a sister to me even though Mom explained everything when I was old enough to understand. An added benefit was that Monica was an overachiever in school and tutored me through my senior year. She received her degree in three years while still living at home and helped me plot a similar path.

My aunt moved out and rented her own place when I started college. She switched to several different jobs before landing her current one. Although her credentials would warrant a higher paying position, she ended up settling in as an office manager. She loved organizing and the job was a perfect fit for her personality. Mom never denied her anything, ensuring her sister remained happy. It was apparent their connection was closer than most sisters.

Snapped back to the moment, I concentrated on the drive to the store. My eyes drifted over to my aunt’s shapely legs. It was fortunate she filled out after she left home as we were in close quarters when she helped me with my studies. My sexual relief each night was from thinking of Mom rather than my aunt.

Thinking back to the driveway, I asked, “I didn’t see your car parked at our house. How are you returning home tonight?”

She replied, “Your mother picked me up. She wanted me to stay home for a few days until after your birthday. It’s a big deal for her and she wants us to be together again, for a few days at least.”

“That makes sense,” I noted. “Mom mentioned she wanted to take me out for my first legal drink when I turn twenty-one in two days. Nice seeing you again, anyways.”

Smiling back at me, she said, “Thanks, it is nice being with family again. I feel so alone at times. If it wasn’t for my books, I’d go insane.”

Turning into the parking lot, we made our way into the FoodMart.

My aunt assigned me the grocery cart as she plucked items off the shelves. This allowed me to follow and admire her lithe form. Her ass had filled out and I hardened as I dreamed of squeezing her cute buns. More than once I caught an errant husband staring at her beauty. Most of them quickly glanced away when their gaze met mine, thinking I was her spouse, but some continued to stare until their wives admonished them to keep them in line.

When finished, I loaded our items on the belt as Monica tended to the credit machine. Halfway through, Monica exclaimed, “Damn, I forgot the bagels. Alex, could you run and get two bags? They’re at the end of aisle eight.”

“Sure. Be right back,” I quipped, dashing away.

Before I was out of earshot, the cashier exclaimed, “Wow, you sure have your husband trained. I wished mine would obey me that well.”

Hearing my aunt giggle, I wished I could hear her reply, but her voice was too soft for me to discern anything. Returning before the last of our items were rung up, brought a big smile from the store employee. As I pushed the cart away, I heard her yell, “Thanks! You two have fun tonight.”

When I pulled into our driveway, my aunt pleaded, “Alex, could you haul in the groceries? I need to go to my room.”

“Of course, Monica. See you inside,” I replied, with a smirk. It was hard to refrain from making a snarky remark about her needing to relieve herself.

With my arms loaded with filled bags, I made my way inside. Right away I noticed Mom had changed to a shorter skirt. “Was she competing with Monica?” I asked myself. Pointing to where I should place the bags, she flashed me a big smile and began unpacking. After hauling in another armload, I paused to gawk at Mom, stretched on her tiptoes in an attempt to store a box of cereal.

Her skirt had risen, showing the backsides of her smooth thighs. Hearing me enter, she asked, “Could you help me? I don’t want to drag the stool over.”

My mind flashed to one of my porn stories where a son pressed his hardon against his mother’s behind in the same situation. Not wanting to pass up a perfect opportunity, I eagerly strolled over to fulfill my fantasy. Before I reached her, the box slid onto the shelf. She turned to me and stated, “Never mind. Got it in.”

Unable to conceal my disappointment, Mom mischievously grinned back, informing me, “Dinner will be ready in around twenty minutes if you want to go to your room and wait for my call.”

“Sure, Mom. I’ll go unpack my things.” Mom’s smirk hinted that she knew something I didn’t.

Discovering my empty suitcase solidified my suspicions. Mom had unpacked my clothes. Checking the closet and dresser, I observed she had properly stowed everything. Knowing some shirts were missing, I found them in the hamper in the bathroom. She had sorted out my dirty clothes. That was my efficient mom doing her thing.

Panic hit me when I spotted my laptop on the desk. A quick search of my computer bag revealed my porn was missing. I had stowed the last six copies of my favorite incest booklets in my bag when I left school. Did she throw them away? After unsuccessfully searching in the trash, I scoured the room for my literary treasures. Noticing my end table was cracked open, I hurriedly opened the drawer to find them stacked neatly inside.

My emotions ran rampant, wondering what Mom thought about my collection. Was she disgusted with my obvious stroke-off material, or did she chalk it up to average boy fantasies? Taking them out, I noticed she had stacked them in chronological order with the newest on top. There were only five though. I was certain I brought six. Double-checking my bag to see if one got missed, I found nothing. I probably left it in my dorm room, I reasoned. Recovering from my panic attack, I placed my books back in the drawer.

“Alex, time to eat. Come to dinner,” Mom yelled from the kitchen. Knowing she had found my secret stash, I averted eye contact with her when I entered.

“Everything okay, Alex,” Mom queried.

“Sure. Thanks for unpacking my stuff. I can’t believe you even figured out which clothes needed to be cleaned,” I remarked.

She laughed and replied, “I’ve been taking care of your laundry your whole life. You don’t think I have a nose for your dirty clothes?”

Monica walked in and sat at the table. Giggling, she noted, “I feel sorry for you, Melissa. It must be a full-time job cleaning up after a stink bomb like Alex.”

Mom grinned at her sister’s comment and after making eye contact with me, she added, “Did you check to ensure I correctly stored everything?”

Her smile made it obvious that she intended to let me know she was talking about my books.

“Everything was perfect. Thanks a lot. Even my laptop and peripherals were set up correctly,” I replied.

Her smile broadened as she finished placing the food on the table. I was relieved when Mom and Monica began one of their long discussions, shifting the focus away from our secretive talk. Once finished, Mom suggested we take our showers while she cleaned the kitchen.

The hot water refreshed my body as I lathered up. My thoughts focused on the dilemma of Mom discovering my incest books. Suddenly, a soft knock on the door interrupted me.

“Alex, I forgot to put clean towels in your bathroom,” Mom stated.

Another incest story flashed before me. In this episode the son allows his mother to see his erect penis and not long after they’re in the shower enjoying each other. Opening the sliding glass door, I faced the door and brought my hands to my eyes. My prick jerked to attention, awaiting Mom’s appearance.

“Mom, I have soap in my eyes. Can you bring them in for me?” I asked.

She immediately replied, “Of course.”

The plan was set. Peeking through slits, I watched as the door slowly opened a few inches. The next thing I knew, her hand poked through with a towel and expertly tossed it on top of the hamper. The door quickly closed.

“Come join us in the living room when you’re done,” Mom ordered, once again veering away from one of my fantasy story scenarios.

After drying off and slipping on a pair of sweats, I checked my stash again. Taking inventory, I noticed the book I thought was missing was on the bottom, but there were still only five. The only possible explanation was that Mom was reading them, one at a time. Was she trying to figure out why I enjoyed them? As long as she didn’t confront me, I surmised there was a good chance she wasn’t upset over my indecent fantasies.

Monica had settled into her favorite stuffed chair by the time I made it out. Mom was still taking her shower, so I took my place at the end of the couch. Switching to a romantic movie that I knew Mom and my aunt would enjoy, I finally relaxed after the long day.

Mom strode in wearing a robe matching Monica’s. It wasn’t uncommon as they frequently shopped together and bought identical outfits. Sitting next to me, she leaned over to press her nose on my neck.

“Ah, my son smells clean and fresh again.” she remarked, after inhaling a big whiff. “It’s so good having you home. I’ve missed our time together.”

“Me too, Mom. Relaxing for a few days will be a nice change.”

She swung her legs onto the couch and leaned into me, attempting to become comfortable. We weren’t into the movie for an hour when I heard Mom’s steady, deep breathing. Evidently, the day was long for her too. She didn’t stir through the rest of the show. When the chick flick ended, Monica rose and sauntered over to say good night.

She shook Mom’s shoulder. “Melissa, wake up. It’s time for bed.”

Mom remained asleep, so I shoved her upright. She slowly came out of it. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around and noticed the dark screen. “Guess I conked out. I’ve been taking these new sleeping aids and they work almost too well. Sorry, I missed the movie.”

Monica piped, “It’s fine. You looked so comfortable we hated to wake you, but I know you have a big day planned for tomorrow and would like a good night’s sleep. See you two in the morning.”

Mom and I followed Monica’s lead and retired to our respective rooms. It didn’t take too much reading from my stash before I blew a load, mostly from the memory of Mom’s display from the morning grocery event.

Mom had already placed the plates of food on the table by the time I arrived for breakfast. Curious as to her planned events, I asked, “Mom, what’s on the menu today for activities? It sounds like you and Aunt Monica have been cooking up some sort of an agenda.”

“First, you two are taking a walk, while I clean the house. When you return we’ll drive to the Mall for shopping and lunch. After we return home, we’re going to play a game together, like old times.”

“Sounds like a wonderful and full day, Mom,” I responded.

As soon as we finished, Mom shuffled my aunt and me out the door. Walking to the park proved to be enjoyable, catching up on our activities from the last few years. She clearly missed being with family and her depressed attitude had already improved by the time we returned to the house.

Mom cheerfully greeted us, before we adjourned to our rooms to change for the outing at the Mall. Checking my stack of books, I noticed Mom had once again exchanged one of the older issues. It appeared she was going to read through all of them.

I was famished by the time we arrived at the Mall and hoped we would eat first, but Mom had a different plan.

As we walked by their favorite women’s clothing store, Mom cheerfully chirped, “Let’s go in here and buy some new outfits for Alex’s birthday.”

This could be good. This was a familiar theme I knew all too well. The son sits outside the dressing room while his Mom and Aunt parade around in sexy attire. At some point, Mom invites her son in to show off more than her clothes.

Once past the store entrance, Mom turned to me and ordered, “Alex, head over to the electronics store and browse until we’re done. We don’t want to bore you. We’ll text you when we’re ready.”

Dammit, once again she disrupted my dreams. Had she not paid attention to any of the stories in the books? At least I could have fun drooling over the latest gadgets.

Almost an hour later, I finally received word that they were finished. I hightailed it to the restaurant and met them at the same time they arrived, each holding a bag of merchandise.

When the hostess led us to a booth, my aunt sat a couple of feet in as always. Mom and I usually shared one side while she sat opposite us. Mom decided this time to sit on the edge and pointed to the small space beside Monica. She explained, “I want to see the smiling faces of my beautiful children. I’ve missed both of you so much.”

When I slid in, Monica surprised me when she didn’t move over to allow me more room. Our bodies pressing together proved to be a delightful experience, as she fidgeted and bumped her body against mine.

Partway through the meal, Mom began her interrogation of our romances. It was something Monica and I were used to, as Mom always tried to pry personal information from us. Both of us were reluctant to disclose anything when Mom blurted, “Monica, you’ve been working for a few years. Why haven’t you met any nice young men?”

My aunt replied, “I haven’t found anyone I can relate to and most of them are married. You know how tough it is, Melissa. You’re single too.” She nervously chuckled and followed up with, “A lot of men aren’t interested in women like me.”

Mom retorted, “Nonsense. You’re a beautiful, young lady.” Reaching out to hold Monica’s arm, she added, “We have to get some color on you though. Your pale skin might be a turn-off. Don’t you ever sit out in the sun at your apartment?”

“Nope. There isn’t a private area and I don’t even have a suit to wear anymore. It doesn’t bother me. I have no desire to enter into a relationship at this point in my life.”

Mom wouldn’t let it go. “We’re going to fix that. I saw some nice bikinis earlier. We’ll go back after lunch and pick some up, so we can relax in the sun tomorrow. We have a private area in our backyard. The only man around will be Alex.”

My aunt knew when to give up. “Alright, Melissa. You win. Hopefully, I won’t shock you guys when you’re blinded by my white skin.”

We laughed at my aunt’s expense. I looked forward to a sexy display of hot women. After we finished dining, we made our way back to the apparel store.

Maybe I’d get lucky and Mom wouldn’t ruin another great opportunity. Appraising women modeling in swimsuits is the perfect job for an attentive son. Once again, she turned to me at the entrance, handing me their bags of clothes. “Take these to the car, and wait for us there. We won’t take long.”

There it was, another roadblock. Sulking back to the car, I couldn’t believe my bad luck. She was right though. They returned in fifteen minutes and we were off.

True to her word, Mom brought out some of her old board games we enjoyed playing during our childhood. After a few hours, we broke for dinner. We adjourned to the living room after our showers, where Mom snuggled next to me as we watched another movie.

She fell asleep after an hour and began twisting and turning to get comfortable. By the end of the show, her head was face-up on my lap. I loved running my fingers through her silky hair while massaging her head. Monica looked over and jokingly asked, “Is she dead?”

I replied, “You might say that. Dead to the world. She must have taken another one of her pills.”

Monica moved closer and watched Mom’s facial expression. Mom must have been having a good dream as she smiled and giggled while she slept. My aunt lowered to her knees for a better look and commented, “I think she’s having a romantic dream. That’s a look of passion, if you ask me.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Should we wake her?” I asked.

Monica whispered, “No, don’t. Let’s help her out. Lightly kiss her lips so she thinks a man is kissing her in her dream.”

She had no idea of how appealing that was to me, but I faked my disapproval. “I can’t kiss my own mother. She’d kill me if she wakes up with my lips on hers.”

My aunt persisted. “She won’t know. Wet your lips and lightly touch hers. Like this.”

She ran her tongue around her lips and instead of kissing Mom she leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips. My heart raced when her soft lips pressed against mine. Quickly backing off, she smirked and said, “See, easy. Come on. Make your mother happy.”

Finally agreeing, I wet my lips and bent to kiss Mom. After a couple of seconds of contact, I saw Monica’s hand move in and squeeze Mom’s robe-covered tit. I barely pulled off when Mom’s eyes flew open.

“Whew, guess I fell asleep again.” Mom stuttered, her eyelids fluttering. “Sorry that I’m such a party pooper lately. We didn’t even get to play a game like I wanted to. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when Mom acted unaware of what startled her into waking up.

Showing no sign of our indiscretions, she rose and strode to her room. Meaning to give my aunt a dirty look, all I received from her was a smile and a wink. I couldn’t help but chuckle and smile back at her.