Chapter 2

Smiling up at my mother, I held my arms out to her, drawing her down into a snug cuddle. "Wowee," she breathed, still puffing from her exertions. I smiled at her, kissed her nose and cheek, then gently fondled her breast. "Mmm," she purred, encouraging me. "Just like that, yes." She sighed, evidently content, then shifted around, as if to escape my grasp. But all she wanted to do was lie on her back, so I kept one arm under her, clasping her hip. My other hand moved down from her nipple to her belly, tangling in her dark pubic hair.

Al at once, I was struck with unbelievable remorse. What had I done? I despaired over my actions. I had not just screwed my mother, I had taken her over her objections, more focused on myself than her. "Mom," I ventured, voice quavering. She turned her face to meet mine, a smile still playing about her lips. Her freckled cheeks were still flushed, and she nodded, giving me leave to speak my mind.

"I'm sorry, mom," I whispered. "I ... I shouldn't have done that to you." The smile disappeared, replaced with a sharp look. She drew in a breath, as if to speak, but I hurried on. "I shouldn't have forced you. It was wrong."

She tensed, trembling, then breathed out, slowly. "Forced me? Is that what you think happened?" I nodded, tears blurring my vision. She snorted. "Baby, no. I've been forced." Thankfully, she did not expand on that, though I had an ugly suspicion of what she meant. "You didn't force anything. You were forceful, though, and there's a difference." She licked those delectable lips, wetting them before she continued to speak.

"I certainly never thought anything like this could happen. I mean, who would? It's just ... incest. It's forbidden." I opened my mouth to speak, but she made a shushing noise, pressed on immaculately manicured finger against my lips, and followed on. "You just took me by surprise, is all. The way you kissed me, the way you felt me up," emboldened by her declaration, my hand slid lower, gently stroking against her still slick labia. "Oh, God, baby. Just like that, yes. Play with mommy's pussy."

I complied, with relish as she continued. "After all, it takes two to tango. You were on top of me at first, but then you pulled out. I could have gotten up, ran away, hit you. Even," she said, squeezing my scrotum fer emphasis, "kicked you in the nuts. But what did I do?"

I swallowed, croaking "You got on top of me."

She smiled, like the proverbial cat that got the cream. "I climbed on top of you. And then I fucked you right back. You made me want you, baby- just as much as you wanted me, I think. But now, I am curious. How long has this been going on?"

My brow furrowed; I didn't understand what she was getting at. She sighed, exasperated. "How long have you felt this way about me?"

I glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "'Bout an hour," I said with a laconic shrug.

Her face sharpened, lips thinning. I realised I had made a terrible misstep, and hastened to correct the damage I had caused her. "No, mom. I didn't mean it that way. I just ... didn't see you like that. As a woman. But you are," I pointed out the obvious. "And you're beautiful."

Her face relaxed, her corded muscles softening as she unwound. "You need to be more careful, son," she admonished me. I did my best to look contrite. "If you want to keep going with this, you're going to have to learn how to turn a proper compliment."

Keep going with this? I thought, incredulous. Was she actually suggesting... ? As if to answer that question, she wrapped a hand around my shaft, stroking its still-wet length with practiced, deliberate movements. "I do, I do," I blurted, desperate to reassure her. As I began to stiffen beneath my mother's hand, she again me my gaze, green eyes challenging me from behind her stylish glasses.

"Well, I'll ask again. How long has this been going on?"

My mind raced, searching for an acceptable answer. "Be right back," I choked, hating to move away from her divine touch. I sprinted to my room, flung my futon back, and snatched up the manga, skidding to a halt by my mother's bed. I turned on her bedside lamp, then got down beside her, stretching one arm out so she could cuddle against me. After she settled in, I handed her the sordid little tome that had started all this.

She took it, opened it the wrong way, Western style at the front. As she paged through it, I realised she could not understand the kanji, and she handed it back, frustrated. I took it, opened it the right way, and recounted my shopping trip and inadvertent discovery, how I'd been turned on by the idea of a son making love- and I used that term, causing her to sigh happily- to his mother. I read the story to her, realising that the book held three such tales, though I had only begun on one. "So," I said, closing the manga and laying it to one side. "It was like ... well, it was destiny, I suppose. That I saw that, and it flipped a switch in me that let me saw you in a whole new light."