At Malcom’s graduation ceremony, Charlotte Speaks sat with Jim Giordano on stage with the rest of the faculty. When the class valedictorian gave his speech, he included praise and thanks for his parent’s love and special thanks for, “My tutor, Mrs. Speaks, who insisted that I learn beginning calculus two years before it was offered in class.” Charlotte spied Agatha Wilcox nodding at her as if she were congratulating her. As she nodded back, she wondered why Aggie’s gaze was being held for so long.

Noticing Malcom’s mother’s stare and where it was directed Jim Giordino leaned over and whispered, “Are you still sure she isn’t aware of how much you are involved with her son?” Shushing him Charlotte felt her hair stand up on the back of her neck as she thought If I were her, I would certainly have my suspicions. As Malcolm walked across the stage Jim said, “So what are you going to do now that your Mallory will be going away to college?”

He had been offered scholarships to both Princeton and Rutgers. Princeton’s was only half tuition whereas Rutgers was full, the same as the Princeton half tuition. Given the limitations of his father’s Pastor’s salary, even though a Princeton education was considered superior to Rutgers the financial decision outweighed any other consideration. But Rutgers’s computer science program was considered superior to Princeton’s which fell in line with the career in computer programming that Malcolm was considering.

The relationship between Malcolm and Charlotte flourished from the day he began spending his Saturdays helping on Charlot’s farm and being tutored in Calculus by his teacher. After the first few weeks, a different kind of education began in Charlotte’s bed ... sometimes on the couch in the family room, or at times standing behind her while Charlotte was bent over the kitchen table. An exceptional student, Malcolm quickly advanced from Beginning Calculus to Intermediate and then Advanced, while beginning sex morphed to adequate and then skilled.

Malcolm’s education in math and sexual technique advanced him light years ahead of his peers in sexual prowess. For Charlotte, along with her pleasurable, long-term involvement with Jim Giordino, sex with Malcolm became beyond her wildest dreams. To Jim’s question: “What are you going to do now that your Mallory will be going away to college,” she and Malcolm had discussed it at length. While she didn’t want to interfere with his college experience Rutgers was only a half-hour’s drive from Charlotte’s farm. They agreed that he could either spend weekends of his choice together on the farm or she could come down and spend evenings in a local motel with him.

Malcolm joined a fraternity and, as it turned out Bart Edwards, the lifeguard his mother had an affair with one summer week at the New Jersey Shore, was already a member. They became friends and even double-dated. Though Bart, who found out Aggie was Mal’s mother, never breathed a word of it, (You can read about Bart and Aggie in The Pastor’s Wife).

During Spring Break during his junior year when most of his fraternity brothers were going to Florida, Malcolm stayed home to take advantage of quality time with Charlotte, spending evenings with her while staying at home and visiting with his father and mother.

It was the night that his mother found out about her husband’s affair with his assistant pastor at his church. She couldn’t sleep and was wired from her discovery. Hearing the back door open and close (it was 1:13) she thought Malo, is coming in from his date. Getting out of bed she wrapped her silk kimono around her naked body and headed for the kitchen. Seeing her son standing in front of the open refrigerator drinking from a partially filled half-gallon of milk she said, “Where have I failed you, Malo?”

Jerking with a start he spilled milk down his chin and the front of his dark red shirt. Turning toward his mother he gave her a sheepish gaze followed by a shrug of his shoulders. Since he was a child, she had constantly told him not to drink out of the container. Feeling foolish for spilling the milk he replied, “I’m sorry, Mom, you startled me.”

With an indulgent giggle Aggie said, “Malcolm David Wilcox, I might as well give up your drinking out of the milk carton.” Picking up a dishtowel from the counter she dabbed his shirt. Feeling his well-developed pectoral muscle, she blushed and said, “My goodness, Malo, you certainly do keep yourself in good condition.”

Aggie was even more understanding of her son’s physical condition than he imagined ... or so she thought. She had seen him sunning himself on the patio in his skintight Speedos, swimming trunks that made such a marvelous display of his tight buns from behind as well as the significant package in front. More than once she had ogled him like a curious teenage girl. Since her affair with Bart, a college student just a year older than Malcolm, she had been dealing with guilt-ridden lust for her son that had recently become intense. Then there were the voyeuristic observations of him masturbating while she stood watching through a crack in his slightly opened bedroom door.

The first time It happened was soon after her fateful week at the shore where she met Bart. The beauty of her handsome son stroking what appeared to be a surreal magnification of his childhood phallus made her want to crash through his door, jump on his bed and take his beautiful cock into her mouth. Telling herself that her boy-child was a normal youth she reasoned I had no right to be here and once again decided to leave. She was shocked when he shouted her name when he came. And when he did come, she realized that he was imagining having sex with her. When Aggie figured out that he was leaving the door partially open in hopes that she would see him she panicked and silently lurched down the hallway while thinking why doesn’t he close his God-damned door?” Now standing in the kitchen covered only by her thin silk kimono Aggie smirked at her son who was ogling her out of the corners of his eyes.

The way she seemed to be looking at him lit a flame of hope in Malcolm’s mind which made him think that Charlotte Speaks might have been right when she suggested that his mother might have secretly been lusting for him. As far as he was concerned his mother, even at the age of fifty-three, was one of the hottest-looking and most desirable women in the world. The chemistry between them had always been relaxed. Tonight though, he sensed a quality about her that made it seem that his mother was eager for his touch. Since she was wearing only the thin kimono that emphasized her feminine form in lurid detail, it seemed to be an invitation.

Trying to deny what he was thinking: I’ve gotta be out of my mind to even be thinking this way he stole glances at the vee top of her thin wrap, admiring the cleft of her substantial C-cup breasts. The thin silk material displayed her ample nipples which were pressing forcefully against the delicate fabric. Her face was beautiful and young-looking. Her hourglass figure, though slightly thickened in the middle, was still well pronounced enough to deny the existence of love handles. Knowing the kimono was the only thing hiding her nakedness from him he dropped his hand in front of his crotch to camouflage his erection.

Out of the blue Aggie asked, “Do you ever see Charlotte Speaks anymore, Malo?” She had seen Charlotte in the supermarket a couple of days ago and the attractive teacher asked Aggie about Malcolm. As they parted, she remembered thinking, Isn’t it strange that Charlotte seems more interested in Malo than just becoming current on his whereabouts? Rutgers was only thirty miles away. Nah, she thought, I’m just being silly.

Feeling self-conscious Malcolm thought, Christ, my hand still smells like Charlotte’s pussy. I hope Mom doesn’t sense it. As he put the offending hand in his pocket, he almost burst out laughing when he thought of the milk carton he had just drunk from. He knew the remains of Charlotte’s scent were all over his face as well. It’s probably tainted the milk for God’s sake.

“Why the wry smile, Malo?”

When it struck him that his mother might be reading his thoughts he blushed. Having always thought his mom was wise to too many things he had done he asked, “Why the sudden interest in Mrs. Speaks, Mom?”

Aggie always knew when she had caught her son in a lie or that he was hiding mischief of some kind, the admission was always written on his face. Though shocked to the core that something might be going on between her son and his former math and guidance counselor she held her feelings and chuckled as she said, “You young people think we adults are so naïve.”

“Are you talking about Mrs. Speaks?” Knowing his mother could be on to him he decided to be an adult about it. “How can you be thinking anything like that, Mom?”

Blushing at the impossibility of what he was trying to keep from her, Aggie was both disappointed and thrilled that her intuition was correct. Tightening her stomach, she steeled her mind to what she had expected might be true. Clearing her throat she said, “I’ve had suspicions for over a year, kiddo.”

“Darn it, Mom,” he said in frustration, “I’ve never been able to hide ANYTHING from you,” deciding to be upfront about it, “May I ask what makes you think Mrs. Speaks and I are um ... well, you know?”

With a weary chuckle, Aggie said, “You know, that’s a cute way of referring to sex, Malo.” Reaching out she brushed his bangs with the backs of her fingers. “When you were in school Mrs. Speaks always sang your praises a little too loudly, dear. And I always caught interesting body language whenever she talked about you,” rolling her eyes,” the kind of body language that said to me, ‘I’m excited by your son.’ But it wasn’t until I met her at Pathmark just a couple of days ago that I felt sure about it, Malo. Do you mind if I ask if you have seen Charlotte since you’ve come home?”

His face reddened again as he thought. Damn you, Mom. “She’s the reason I didn’t go to Fort Lauderdale. I...”

Cutting him off she said, “You don’t have to explain Malo; I understand more than you think. And you’re at the age where it is none of my business.” God, why couldn’t Phillip have been like Malcolm? “Malo I’m glad that an adult woman has been um ... teaching you the ... um ... fine points of being with a female.” She recalled how it was Bart, the young lifeguard who taught her things that she in her cocoon didn’t know.

Watching her son’s eyes ogling her breasts, mad electricity between them began to sizzle. Casting a downward glance at them she smirked and thought No wonder, my nipples are pulsing. She didn’t want to put him on the spot by saying something that might scare him off. Nor did she want him to stop looking. Thrilled that his eyes were on what she worried might be too saggy, Aggie’s ego had been crying out for confirmation since before hers and Garven Milroy’s relationship began to cool. Now her nipples were so swollen and hard that she knew her son could see her excitement poking out of the fabric of her silk kimono. Unable to stop what came out of her mouth she said, “You like what you are looking at don’t you, Malo.” God, did I SAY that?

GEEZ Mom, he thought, I can’t stop looking at them. Wondering what could have motivated his mother to act this way his face turned red. There was no question of her not liking the way he was looking at her breasts. And Christ, her nipples are so huge, and her boobs look soft like a young girl’s.

During his silence, Aggie realized what she had just said, but needed confirmation and in a husky voice, said, “What are you thinking, Malo?”

As Malcom’s eyes bonded on her flaunted breasts his mother’s words seemed to filter out the white noise. He had been dealing with these thoughts since puberty and suddenly realized the possibility of having them be realized, “You’re so ... so beautiful, Mom,” he stammered as he felt his hands being taken into hers. Turning his palms upward she kissed the left one. Aware of Charlotte’s scent still being on his hand he didn’t understand why it excited him that his mother might be smelling it.

As Aggie recognized another woman’s musk on her son’s hand, she considered the irony of smelling Kasey Kaminski’s on her husband’s just hours ago and thought, What a strange night this has turned out to be. With all that had gone on earlier in the evening: disappointment, anger, the vow of getting revenge on her husband, this strange and passionate love for her son that had been under her skin since he started puberty. Combined with her longstanding jealousy of Charlotte Speaks’ access to him she asked, “Is there a small portion of your life that you can fit your mother into, Malo?”

Wondering what could have gotten into his mother to be acting this way, Malcolm. remembered conversations he had with Charlotte about the possibility of his mother being sexually interested in him., Christ, he thought, she has always been right on. In a quavering voice, he said, “Would you believe that, ever since I was thirteen, I’ve always wanted to...” he couldn’t get the words out. Too much was happening in his mind to put what he was thinking into words concisely.

From his mother’s standpoint, his roaming eyes and unswallowable Adam’s apple were saying it all. With Malcolm’s tongue-tied admission sending shocks from her hair follicles to the tips of her toes Aggie pulled her son close. Caught off guard when he initiated the kiss, she was also stunned that he was doing it in such a sophisticated way. As she felt his lips melting into hers, she instinctually accepted his tongue into her mouth. As he searched her oral cavity, she released pent-up air at the excitement of what this forbidden togetherness could mean. Pulling her lips away to catch her breath, she thought about setting some ground rules. But concerned that they might be interrupted she said, “Let’s go down to the rec room, Malo.” With a quivering smile, she tugged at his hand and murmured, “We won’t have to be so quiet down there.” Like naughty teenagers, they went together down the stairs, Aggie’s insides fluttering while Malcolm’s knees were on the verge of collapse. When they got to the bottom of the stairs they kissed again, which turned into a passionate tango that found their legs going between each other’s, their thighs pressing into each other’s groin and forbidden buttocks being clutched by incestual partners.

The feeling of her son’s up-tilted hardness against her tummy transported her back to the cottage at the Jersey Shore where, for the first time, she pursued sex with a man other than her husband. Funny she thought I felt so guilty then. Now what is happening seems natural. But will we both feel the same way afterward? She thought about Malcolm being inside her body for nine months, growing, filling her womb to bursting, and then coming out amid such incredible pain. Feeling his erect penis pressing between them she experienced inconceivable pleasure and her lust demanded more. “Oh Malo,” she said, “I’ve wanted this so much ... for such a long time.”

Unwrapping his mother’s kimono Malo exposed her alluring breasts. Though not quite as perky as Charlotte’s he was pleased that he saw little sagging. Ogling his mother’s nippled prominence he urgently stripped off his red Rutgers t-shirt and, looking hungrily into her pleading eyes he held her shoulders, pulled their chests together, and merged his pecs with her breasts. The impossible pleasure of feeling his mother’s soft breasts made him shudder as he panted, “Oh God, Mom,” before her soft lips pressed on his and their tongues wrestled in lingual freshness.

Aggie would have collapsed had it not been for her son’s strong arms and solid stance. Forcing its way between their tummies his hand brushed the curls of her soft, luxuriant bush. With his hands now between her legs, his fingers pressed between her puffy labia and skated in the simmering wetness of her groove. Aggie’s yelp was muted by kissing lips. As his middle finger glided around the slippery surface of her swelling clit his mother bobbed up and down. Jerking with a series of surprised winces and eager moans. Her need to feel her son’s sex in her hand couldn’t be denied. Fumbling with his Malo’s zipper she worked it down, reached in, and wrapped her fingers around the warm effulgence substantial erection.

After having been fucked by Bart Andrews’ short but fat cock the number of inches never seemed as important to her, it was the pressure of his thickness on her spot that made the feeling so surreal. When her fingers didn’t meet when she grasped Malcolm’s erection it brought forth an involuntary, “Oh, GOD, Baby,” and when she recognized how long it was, she said, “Whoa, my little boy has become such a big man.” When her thumb grazed the tip of his glans and felt the slickness of precum Aggie envisioned a headline that moved continuously across her mind like a news crawler that said, “Pastor’s Wife Guilty of Incest with Son.”

Her weeklong affair with Bart at the shore had been followed by an illicit relationship with her daughter’s piano teacher, causing Aggie to reset her moral compass. Now she thought this is just another step in Aggie Wilcox’s sexual journey. Recalling the distant past—the changing of Malcolm’s baby diaper and bathing him—she had often fondled the same penis without ever thinking how it could grow to an organ of this size. “Oh Malo,” she cooed, “how can it possibly be that my baby’s penis has grown into such a marvelous thing of beauty?”