Copyright© 2003

Read: 'How Was Your Day' for the prior episode.

There was a young man named McNamiter
With a tool of prodigious diameter.
But it wasn't the size
Gave the girls a surprise,
But his rythm -- iambic pentameter.

Doris stood before the full length mirror in her room and studied the small lines about her eyes then the somber gaze itself.

That woman looking back at her was the old 'Doris', the middle-aged woman, in an unhappily marriage, and with one adult son. She was also a woman that felt guilt at giving herself pleasure that her husband could not deliver. Up until yesterday that was the most embarrassing, humiliating thing in her life - her little secret. The petite polite woman that needed to sneak into her bathroom after her husband had fallen asleep so as to use her own hands to bring herself off. Up until yesterday, there was nothing she feared more than that little secret becoming general knowledge.

The light gray that surrounded her pupils had been the first thing her husband had noticed about her - though Doris now doubts he has ever looked into her eyes for years. In the years since first meeting her husband, she too had looked for whatever had attracted her husband within her own reflection - but only saw a lonely ageing woman. She had been the dutiful wife, giving her husband the son he wanted, never once denying him any sexual act, even to playing the decoration on his arm as he climbed the corporate ladder. Up until yesterday, she would have stated that she was content with her life.

The lines about her eyes, were those the reason that her husband rarely ever touches her anymore, she wondered not for the first time? Until yesterday, Doris would have agreed that she was no longer that cute pixie-like teenager that looked upon her world and her future husband with an anxious awe. Time had deteriorated her innocence while being cruel to both her body as well as her soul.

Peter, her husband's cock had grown in her hand last night. Stroking him as he lay sleeping beside her. She needed her husband inside her - if only to calm the questions that roared through her mind. Yet he had awoke before entry and rather than plunge into his wife's ready body, had chastised her for 'acting like a stupid little girl'. His dick shrinking even before he rolled away from her.

Of course Doris considered masturbating. It being the function that was the sole source of sexual pleasure and release in her life... again, at least until yesterday. Instead, she had lain in the dark, angry and humiliated toward her husband and confused and horny about the only other man in her life. She could not bring herself to touch that part of her body, knowing there would be no stopping the memories of another's hand upon that part of her.

How could he do it - how could she silently succumb to him?

Not only that, questioned the confused middle-aged woman, how could she have found more pleasure in the all-too-brief moments with him yesterday than at any other time in her life?

She cursed god for his cruel humour. Doris also cursed her husband, though it was far from the first time. She even cursed her body for becoming uncontrolled so that she was but a spectator to the pleasure that it had endured.

What Doris could not do, is curse the man that had looked into her eyes and had changed her life forever. He had not only looked at her, she thought with a deep breath, he had lain his hands upon her, then his fingers within her, and finally had ordered her to touch herself. Thought coldly, she could not understand what had overtaken her senses - besides the half bottle of wine - and had reversed all her years of suppressing her own emotions, her desires, so that she would have done anything for that man.

Yes, anything she reminded herself - a chill running down her spin to clench her sex with the muscles within herself. Doris could remember as he started to stand, knowing he was excited, was going to command her to give him pleasure. Not only was she ready to act thus, she was anxious to do so.

This young man who had captivated her soul, her body and yes, even her heart was non other than her son Dennis. How can a mother not trust her child - to allow herself to abandon all pretence to objectivity. He would care for her if she were sick - this was not so different - as she believed she was sick of the soul, lonely and morose.

It was mostly her own fault, she reminded herself. Brazenly allowing him to look through the expensive semi-transparent wet bathing suit at the shadows and curves beneath. It had been fun, someone, a man, a youthful man, had looked upon her lustfully while the forty three year-old could not remember even her husband looking at her with such... hunger.

Yet she need not take the blame when she had felt his fingers slip into her heated and very wet sex and began to deliver the most delightful of movements. Dennis had done that without any provocation on her part. The orgasm within her was drawn out to explode with such intensity that even a day later, Doris could remember the exact second that it began. Never had she felt such rapture, such bliss in her whole life that she wondered if it had not been some cruel joke on gods part that the man to deliver this moment to her was non else but her own flesh and blood.

Those long thick strong fingers moving evenly in and out of her body - Doris closed her eyes and could almost imagine that she could feel them now. Even if she used three of her fingers, she would not have felt so full. And the only other man in her life to insert his fingers within her has been her doctors over the years - and she felt nothing but cold disgust at those times.

It was as if her son Dennis knew instinctively how to finger his mother's sex, while also strumming upon her super-sensitive clitoris. He was simpatico to her body, Doris thought - a little disappointed that it had to be with her son. Given any other man Doris knew she would give up anything to continue such pleasure-filled moments, she would do anything to try and deliver some of the same pleasure to that man as he had given her.

Yet, it was her son.

Doris tore her eyes to the bedside clock and saw that it was three minutes to the hour.

At her retreat after Peter had interrupted what surely would have taken mother and child to a new perverse level, Doris had agreed to her son's question about another hot tub and massage. How could she be so weak she chastised herself! If her son was any other man, she would not blink to jump into that tub to pleasure and be pleasured. Years of a cold marriage and and even colder bed would leave her with little guilt at this mature point in her life.

Two minutes before the hour.

Was Dennis outside waiting for me now, she wondered with a shiver? Did he have any doubts at all about what happened between them yesterday or did he anxiously look forward to more?

Doris guessed that he was outside expecting her to wear the tight expensive new suit that started all this mess when it became transparent after getting wet yesterday. Perhaps he would spread her legs again and order her to... !

Doris clamped her eyes shut tight and turned away from the mirror and its cruel reflection. She had to end this, else she feared for her sanity. She had to return to being the dominant but loving parent and let her son know that yesterday had been a mistake, one that can never be repeated.

She had to do that, Doris had to confront the one man in her life that she had no defence against. And the scheduled time of their meeting in the back yard in the hot tub was as good a time as any.

Dennis sat in the boiling waters of the hot tub and let out a long exhale when he saw his mother stride purposefully toward him. She came after all, he thought to himself. Yet she did not look at all ready to enjoy another tub with him, he knew by seeing her tight face, as she wore her ugly worn shorts and a very old sweat shirt. A part of him had hoped she would not appear - what had started between them the day before had been very sexy, but it was also more than a little freaky.

He had lain in bed most of last night, simply recalling in detail the events that had transpired between them in this very hot tub. Dennis knew he had lost control of his desires and had taken a dominance stance with the one woman that society said he can not have. Yet, dominate her he had - and there was something especially sensual about having the forbidden. His mother had succumbed easier and faster than his girlfriend ever did - and that told the young man that his mother was starved for affection, that she wanted and needed love and lust in her drag upper middle class life.

Fall asleep, Dennis had swore that he would leave the house and not appear at their rendezvous - not even knowing if she had. Yet the morning light had woken him and the throbbing reminder between his legs helped him to quickly change his mind. His mom was one of those middle-aged ladies that a young guy didn't look twice at - not ugly, more 'common' or plain. After yesterdays events, Dennis believed that he had opened the secret box to his mothers sensuality - and he thought her more beautiful than any other woman he has known.

The smile that came to his face was genuine as he watched his mother approach.

"Dennis... ?" Doris strode to the side of the tub and stood with one hand on its hard marble and the other on her hip.

"I'm glad you came mom!" His pleasure was obvious and unhidden, his words caused both parent and child to recall that intense moment only the day before. Doris may have been surprised if she knew her son was feeling simpatico with her own confused emotions.

Doris took a deep breath and silently asked God to give her the strength to get through this moment. Did her son realized his choice of words?

She had hid from her son since their parting the day before and just from his short statement, his strong reassured words, that she could not help but squeeze her knees together as if to stop the inevitable trickle of pleasure seeping into her groin.

"Dennis... about yesterday... ?"

He smirked, "Yes mom, what about yesterday?"

She felt her face flushing and knew it had to be bright red. Doris told herself that she had to take charge here or else she would be damned for the rest of her life. With firm disapproving voice, "Please let me finish Dennis! I am your mother and you will show me the respect that I deserve."

Dennis understood immediately what his mother was doing, that she came before him to attempt to return their relationship back to how it had been before yesterday. He could see that no such thing could happen - he could never look upon his mother as anything but the most exquisite woman that exemplified her race that he had ever known. He could remember the feel, scent, sounds and sight of her body and knew that she needed him. The woman that he had released the day before had not been his mother but a woman reborn.

"Climb in the tub mother."

To Doris the statement was spoken so calmly, after her harsh words, and in such a way that it was as if he had heard a word she had said. "I will not get into that tub with you again young man!" Not after yesterday, she told herself.

Dennis smirked and returned his mothers glare with a calm resolve. "You are fully dressed mother and I do not think that in your present mood you are up to exposing me your body." He waved to a spot across from him, the exact spot she had sat the day before. "Come on in and sit on the edge with only your feet in the water mother." He watched her knowing that if she sat down as asked, then she was his.

Doris told herself to run, just turn around and run as fast as she could back into the sanctuary of her bedroom. Yet, could it really hurt to sit back where she had been assaulted by him the day before. If anything, she convinced herself, it would prove to the both of them that she was strong enough to deny both her son as well as the thumping of her own heart.

With a red face and upper neck, Doris silently climbed into the tub but chose another spot to sit. A small rebellious nature - to sit perpendicular to where her son was sitting, but at least it was not in that spot! She also ensured that her knees were tightly pressed together.

She missed the pleased smile that broke out on her son's face before he contained it.

She opened her mouth to continue to chastise her son, to tell him that it could never happen again when he spoke first, "I love you mom." Her heart began to melt when he added, "And I love what we did yesterday too!" Consciously she put a clamp down on her raging emotions and even her memories that his simple statement caused within her.

It took a few lengthy seconds before she calmed herself to reply, "I love you too honey... but about yesterday... ?"

He interrupted on purpose, "Its OK mom, I know."

Her head felt as if it was spinning as Doris had no idea what her son was talking about. "What... ?"

"Until yesterday mom, I never really noticed how beautiful you were, how... sexy you are."

Her eyes had grown wide as she devoured the words, no man has ever told her she was beautiful or sexy. Inside, Doris's mind was screaming at herself, stop it she told herself, look away, run away - but she could not.

"What happened yesterday was not planned as I barely knew what I was doing at the time."

She nodded her head, understanding, agreeing.

"Yet I do not regret that it happened and I can never forget a second of it."

Doris was now in torment, she too felt the same way but had been telling herself since it happened the day before that she had to forget, else both mother and son would be doomed.

"You are the most desirable woman that I have ever known and I want you!"

Doris suddenly realized her mistake in sitting perpendicular to her son rather than across from him. Dennis was within arms reach of him.

As his large strong hand gently grasped her well-muscled calf a large uncontrollable sigh escaped from her lips. The feelings from yesterday were returning, but this time she did not have the excuse of inebriation. Doris knew she was quickly loosing control of the situation and that it had been a mistake to think she could confront her son in the same location that their original transgression had transpired.

With a last desperate rush of purpose, Doris quickly stood up, turned about and grasped the edge of the tub to steady herself while climbing out of the slippery wet tub when two wet strong hands grasped her hips and held her steady. She could sense the tall strong wet body directly behind her as if she had radar.

Dennis leaned in slowly so that his lips were right next to his mothers left ear so she could loudly hear his whisper, "Please don't go mother." Her lips moved but nothing came out, she had to leave, it was the single purpose she kept repeating to herself. Yet, she was starting to forget why it was so important to run away from her son - the man who loved her like no other.

"Tell me that you did not enjoy what we did yesterday and I will let you go?" Her minds eye flashed back at the frank memories of the day before, especially at the sight of her son's eyes as he devoured the sight of her own finger inside her sex. A lengthy and very strong shiver ran through her, which ended between her legs causing a guttural groan to escape her lips. The woman that she had been those moments the day before felt right to her - as if who she had been then was the real woman while the rest of her life was a lie.

Dennis could feel his mother shaking in his hands, he knew that he was close to nirvana. Though she had tried to retreat - he knew just by seeing her trembling form that she really did not want to leave the tub and him. This was the opening for him to take charge.

"Tell me that you never want it to happen again mother? Tell me that and I will never again touch you as I did yesterday."

Doris screamed to herself, this was it, this was her chance to end it. Her son was giving her the opening that she herself could not create and all she had to do was tell him to stop, that this wrong and what had happened yesterday could never happen again. That was what her mind screamed, yet it was the rest of her body that drowned out that voice with the strength of its own argument. Every part of her body wanted him, even her heart wanted to belong to her own son and though it was wrong in every way, there was no argument that she could use to convince herself otherwise.

Dennis paused for about two very long minutes before he spoke up again, in a louder, firmer voice, "Tell me that I disgust you mother and I shall leave?"

He could see her jaw working for some while before a sound escaped, the words so quiet that he had to strain to hear over the boiling of the hot tub. "I can not!"

His heart suddenly soared as he realized that this was an admission that he had won the fantasy that really only started, for him, the day before, upon seeing his mother's shadowed body through her wet swim suit.

Removing his firm grasp of his mother's hips, knowing with a certainty that she would not move, he slipped them toward her front. Within his arms, her could feel his mom trembling and he remembered her tremors from the day before, understanding that this was a good thing, a precursor to what was to come.

The speed of his mother's reaction surprised him - recognizing her heightened state from the day before as well as compared to his girlfriends more enjoyable moments. It pleased him greatly that any woman would react to him this way, that it was his mother added a demented amount of spice to the pot.

There is power to causing a woman to get so passionate that she succumbed to her partner, the very freedom of her pleasure. It could take hours with his girlfriend, and only worked infrequently to a level that he felt any sort of power. With his mother, it seemed that it was as easy as turning on a light switch - that he may not yet understand where the electricity came from, he knew that it was he that could control the brightness of the resulting light. The power that Dennis was feeling now was like nothing he had ever experienced.

"Tell me you want to stay with me mother?" His hands were rubbing over his mothers near-flat stomach as she appeared to have trouble breathing and he could feel the tremors of her stomach muscles beneath his open hands.

There was a strong urge within her to feel those large strong hands upon her breasts, between her legs, anywhere as long as it was upon her bare flesh. Without a thought, the words voided from her lips, "I want to stay with you."

His hands were fumbling at the knot of her belt holding her shorts up even as he spoke with a voice filled with possessive humour, "You are overdressed mother!" His own hands trembled with expectation - desire.

Yes, thought Doris, she wanted to be naked with him more than anything else she could think of at that moment. Yet she wanted to look into his eyes, and feared an admission within them of her age. Her body would not look as well out of the tight bathing suit to help mold her frame and the thought that her son could find any fault with her was an overwhelming consideration.

With Peter, her husband, she had always been shy with her body, showing nudity sparingly and rarely in the light of day. This desire to be free of encumbrance was new to her and yet another validation that she was no longer the same person. With her son Dennis she was a new woman, a sexy desired woman that wanted nothing more than to give and receive pleasure with the most important man in her life. Her body, her nudity was trivial to the love she had for him then.

The faults of her body, that every woman knew about herself so well, came back to her with a vengeance. And a part of her wanted to gave Dennis the body of her youth.

Another part of her brain wondered what he would do with her first and a violent reaction hit between her legs just as her son's hands pushed the shorts past her hips and down her thighs.

Dennis bent over behind his mother and, one at a time, lifted each foot with his strong but gentle hands so she could step out of her shorts. When he again stood straight, he had his mother's old garment in his hand and was looking down at the excellent but petite curves of his mother's bare buttocks and hips.

Doris tried to concentrate on keeping her knees straight - so fearful that they would fold beneath her. She was naked from the waist down outside the sanctuary of her bedroom, in fact outside in the daylight, and she started to imagine what her son's fingers would again feel like within her, but from the different angle they found themselves in at this moment.

"You are a very beautiful woman mother!" She could hear the lust in her son's words and knew without a doubt that he spoke the truth as he understood it, that he was feeling simpatico to her own strong feelings. As his two large strong hands slipped upon her small shapely ass cheeks, he gasped into her ear, "I love your ass mom!" The hands slid downward, upon the back of her smooth thighs, "Your legs are the best!"