Capítulo 31: Mother and Son, Ghosts of Christmas
bySusanJillParker©
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Mother and Son, Ghosts of Christmas
As his very special Christmas gift, a mother finally allows her son to have his wicked, sexual way with her naked body.
Christine didn't just love her son, Daniel, she was in love with her son. It's expected for a mother to love her son but it's unusual for a mother to be in love with her son, the kind of love that a woman feels for a man.
Maybe if they hadn't been mother and son, they'd have an affair. Maybe if they hadn't been mother and son, they'd have a sexual relationship. Maybe if they hadn't been mother and son, they'd get married and have children but the bottom line was Christine was Daniel's mother and Daniel was Christine's son.
It all started when Christine asked Daniel to accompany her to her belated, office Christmas party.
* * * * *
Hoping to have the best Christmas she's had in a long time, Christine was happy. Her son, Daniel, was finally home after being away for four, long years at college. Having graduated in May, he was home until January when he was scheduled to take a job on the other side of the country. With him home with her the entire summer and fall, he'd be leaving her right after the New Year.
As she was for four years when he was away at school, she'd be lost without him. She didn't want him to go. If he must go, she wished he'd take her with him. She wished he could find a job closer to her but with jobs and opportunities to work in his chosen field few and far between, he had no choice but to untie her apron strings again and move away.
At least he agreed to attend her company Christmas party with her. It was a great Christmas party, the best party she ever attended after last year's scandalous party. Christine was glad that her son, Daniel, agreed to accompany her. Dreading she'd have to go to the party alone or not at all, as if she was a dancer on Dancing with the Stars, she had fun dancing with her son. With her uncomfortable about asking him to escort her, she finally relented and asked him to go to the Christmas party with her. Figuring he'd disappoint her in not wanting to go to her office Christmas party, she was surprised when he said yes.
"Daniel," she said biting her lip with guilt for all of the sexually inappropriate thoughts she was always thinking about having sex with his naked body.
Only encouraged by his look, he looked at her in the same way she looked at him. It was when he looked at her in that way that she wondered if he was as romantically interested in her as she was romantically interested in him. She wondered if he incestuously and inappropriately thought of her naked and in his arms in the way she always thinks of him naked and in her arms. With her being his mother, as if she was looking in the mirror at her own image, it was when he looked at her in that sexually incestuous way that she knew what he was thinking. He was inappropriately thinking of her in the way she always inappropriately thought of him. Cut from the same cloth, seemingly, they were genetically so similar.
"Yes mother?"
He gave her that look that made her want to strip herself naked. He gave her that look that made her want to strip him naked. He gave her that look that made her imagine being in bed naked with her son while making love to him. She wondered if he'd be as submissive as he is now or if he'd take more of a manly role when fucking his mother.
* * * * *
A remnant from the past when they lived together as mother and son, he always called her Mom or mother but now that he was older and after having graduated college in May, in the way she called him Daniel, she wished he'd call her Christine. She felt so old when he called her Mom or mother, especially in front of people who didn't know they were mother and son. With him looking ten years older than his 22-year-old age and her looking ten years younger than her 41-year-old age, she'd rather people thought they were a couple. She'd rather people thought that they were boyfriend and girlfriend rather than mother and son. Maybe if enough people thought they were a couple, then perhaps they would be.
"My company is having an office Christmas party and I wanted to know if you'd attend the party with me," she said looking at him as if she was asking him to the Prom. "You don't have to go if you'd rather not. I'm just asking if you'd like to come with me as my escort."
After divorcing her husband, his stepfather when Daniel was too young to even remember him, with her having had a few dates in the past before, she never felt as awkward asking a man out as she did in asking her son to accompany her to the Christmas party. No doubt because of all the sexually inappropriate thoughts she's been having about her son lately was the reason why she felt so uncomfortable interacting with him on a dance floor and in a situation where a man would normally interact with a woman.
When all of her coworkers had husbands, boyfriends, wives, and girlfriends, she was nervous about how others from her work would perceive her, a mother attending the office Christmas party with her son. Normally dragging her son to her office Christmas party wouldn't have been such a big deal but with Daniel her whole life, when she wasn't bragging about Daniel, she was always talking about him. Even though they never met him, many of her coworkers knew more about her son than she knew about their children. In the way she adored her son, they may suspect that there's something sexually up between them or emotionally wrong with her for showing up at the party with her son.
Unable to hide her sexual attraction for her son, she feared that when her coworkers saw them together that they may suspect that they've sex or are having sex. An impression that she didn't want anyone to have, especially when they haven't had sex, what she did or wanted to do behind her closed bedroom doors wasn't anyone's business. It's not that she didn't think about having sex with her son and it's not that she'd say no to having sex with him, should the opportunity present itself. Thus far, her sexual contact with her son was nothing more than inappropriate thoughts when masturbating herself. She only wished she didn't feel so guilty after thinking about her son sexually. Feeling so good at the time when allowing her thoughts about him to turn sexual, she felt perversely perverted for having those incestuous, sexual thoughts later.
"Sure. I'd love to go to the Christmas party with you," he said. "When is the party?"
Wow, that was a surprise. She was shocked. She couldn't believe her young, handsome son agreed to accompany his old mother to her party. What 22-year-old young man wants to be saddled with his mother all night? Never expecting him to say yes, now she was put on the spot to go to her office party, a party that she really didn't want to attend.
"Tonight," she said.
He looked at her so surprised that the party was tonight that she wondered if he'd change his mind about going.
"Tonight?" He laughed. "How long have you known about the party?"
He looked at her puzzled.
"A couple of weeks, two weeks," she said.
"But it's Christmas Eve?" He laughed again. "What company has a party on Christmas Eve?"
He was right. When employees would rather be home with their families, it did seem a bit odd to have a Christmas party on Christmas Eve but the party was a last minute decision. For sure, had the Christmas bonuses not been passed out at the Christmas party, few employees would even attend the Christmas party on Christmas Eve. The company wasn't going to have a party at all after last year's fiasco when the drunken, Senior Vice President was found having sex in the men's bathroom with the drunken, President's naked wife.
With the president's wife leaning over the sink while the VP pounded her pussy from behind, someone sitting in one of the stalls recorded the sexual affair and posted it to YouTube. Shot through the men's room mirror, Audrey's big, fake boobs bounced all over the Internet while she screamed her role as a whore instead of the chief executive's respectable wife. It's amazing the difference a year makes. With the Vice President fired and with the President of the company in the middle of a divorce from his wife, the affair is a distant memory. Matter of fact, with president's young, sexy girlfriend, a dead ringer for Sofia Vergara, everything was all good.
"With us not having enough employees to book a ballroom, they couldn't book a suite of rooms until tonight. With them planning the party at the last minute, the hotels were all filled with people booking rooms to see their families for Christmas," she said.
In the way he looked at her, obviously he still didn't understanding why they'd have a party so late into the holiday. With her not wanting to tell him about the sex scandal uncovered in the men's room bathroom, she didn't say any more about it.
"Oh," he said.
Just a passing thought and something she'd never do, yet imagining her son fucking her in the way the VP fucked the president's wife, Christine imagined someone catching them and filming them having sex in the men's room.
"I wasn't going to go because I didn't want to go alone and I didn't want to ask you to come with me because I figured you'd feel compelled to go," she said.
As if she was a decadent dessert asking to be licked before being eaten, he looked at her in the way she looks at him. Unable to resist him, if only he made the first move, she'd make all of the rest. If only he'd touch her and kiss her while feeling her, she'd touch and feel him too while kissing him. If only he'd start something now, she'd forget all about the Christmas party and stay home with her son.
"I'd like to go," he said taking her hand in his before putting an arm around her waist. "I'd love to dance with you," he said waltzing her around the room.
Wishing he'd reach down and grab and feel her ass, the sexual sensation of feeling his fingertips poised at the top of her hip made her want him to touch her, feel her, and kiss her. Always so fun and so spontaneous, he always made her laugh. With her barely 18-years-old and pregnant in her senior year of high school with him, and with her parents wanting her to have an abortion, she was glad she went through with the pregnancy and kept him. A tumultuous time and a decision she would have regretted the rest of her life had she had an abortion, he was the one good thing in her life.
"I figured you could wear a sport coat and tie," she said, "and pants, of course," she said with a dirty laugh while imagining him naked below the waist.
She'd like to see him dressed up instead of him wearing his normal outfit of jeans, sweatshirt, and baseball cap.
"Sure. This will be fun instead of staying home and watching It's A Wonderful Life again," he said with a laugh.
* * * * *
When he said that about watching It's A Wonderful Life, she thought about all the times she curled up with him on the couch with him to watch a movie. Her favorite place to be with him, she loved watching movies while holding her son. Every time she curled up with him, safely tucked beneath his arm with her arm wrapped around him and with her feeling his warm body so close to her, she always imagined having sex with him. With her hand resting on his thigh, it took all the self-control she possessed not to move her hand higher up before placing it on his cock.
If only he'd move her hand to his pajama clad prick, she'd leave it there. If only he'd touch her breasts and finger her nipples through her nightgown, she'd let him stick his hand down her nightgown to touch, feel, and fondle her naked breasts. She'd love nothing more than to feel and fondle him while he felt and fondled her as they continued watching the movie. It's A Wonderful Life would suddenly take on new meaning if she was sexually intimate with her son.
Wishing she was drunk enough or horny enough, she wondered what he'd say if she touched his prick through his pajama. She wondered what he'd do if she grabbed his cock through his pajama. She imagined fingering the head of his prick and watching it grow bigger and harder enough to tent his pajama bottoms. Whenever her braless breasts were pressed against his side, she always felt his cock pulsating against her forearm in the way her nipples hardened against him. With his erect cock so very close to her hand, it was sometimes difficult to concentrate on the movie when his erection was rubbing against her forearm.
Something that she'd like to do and has thought about doing, she wondered what he'd say if she willingly released his obvious sexual tension by reaching her hand inside of his pajama bottom and wrapped her fingers around his penis. She wondered what he'd do if she pulled out his cock and stroked him to an erection. She imagined giving him a hand job or perhaps lowering her mouth to his prick and giving him a blowjob. She wondered if he'd allow her to touch him and/or suck him in that sexual way. She wondered if he'd want to cum in her mouth as much as she'd like him to cum in her mouth or would he push her away in disgust and horror?
Even though she'd never do something so wickedly nasty, she enjoyed thinking that she would. Only, unable to cross the incestuous line, she didn't want to ruin their close mother and son relationship. Should he marry, after carrying the guilt of having sex with her son, how could she face his wife, her daughter-in-law? Should he have grandchildren, she'd always feel guilty about having sex with her son, their father. What's wrong with her for having such salacious, sexual thoughts?
Before he returned home from college, having sex with her son is something she thought about only when masturbating herself in the bathtub with her dildo, in the shower with her water massager, in bed with her vibrator, or in the ladies room at work with her finger. Now she thinks about having sex with her son all the time. Yet, just because she thought of having sex with her son when masturbating herself didn't mean she'd do anything more than think about having sex with him.
Letting herself go with the fantasy of having sex with him, she needed those naked images of him for her to have an orgasm. Just because she thought about her son in a sexual way when cuddling with him on the couch, didn't mean that she'd have sex with her son. Just because she thought about having sex with her son while rubbing her nipples against the side of him and while he pulsated and rubbed his cock against her forearm didn't mean that she'd act upon their mutual, sexual desire.
"Okay, then I'm going to get ready," she said heading to the bathroom to take her shower.
* * * * *
While showering and allowing the shower massager to harden her nipples and tease her clit, she wished he'd open the bathroom door and sit on the toilet to watch her shower. She wished he'd push back the shower curtain, climb in the tub, and shower with her. She wished he'd push her up against the wet, tile wall and have sex with her. She wished he'd push down on her shoulders and force her to suck him. Only, he wouldn't have to force her too much or push her very hard. She'd willingly fuck him and suck him if only he'd make the first move.
Surprising even herself, something she did on impulse without even thinking it through, when she got out of the shower, she exposed herself to her son. Other than she was horny, lonely, and needy, she didn't know why she exposed her naked body to him. Perhaps her way of thanking him for escorting her to the company Christmas party, showing him her naked body was his much deserved reward. Only, exposing her naked body to him was as much a reward for her as she hoped it would be for him.
When taking her shower while masturbating herself with the shower massager, she was consumed by the thoughts of having sex with her son. Something she's never done before, she thought about exposing her naked body to him while walking down the hall from the bathroom to her bedroom. Then, once in her bedroom, she stripped off her bathrobe without closing her bedroom door. Actually, she knew exactly why she exposed herself to him. With Daniel taking a job out of state the first of the year, and with him renting an apartment, this may be her last opportunity to seduce her son. She only had one week to make her incestuous move and her sexual intentions known.
Chances are he'll meet someone at work or where he lives. Chances are he'll fall in love. Chances are he'll marry and have children and will no longer think of her, his mother, in the sexual way that he thinks of her now. Relegated to him calling her on her birthday, her calling him on his birthday, and him calling her at Christmas, chances are she'll never have another opportunity like this to see how he really feels about her and if it's the same sexual way she feels about him.
Totally naked and acting oblivious to her bedroom door being wide open by not looking in his direction, as soon as she walked by her doorway, she knew he'd see her. Knowing he was in the living room watching television, she knew that he could clearly see her in the mirror that hung on the wall over the TV. With the mirror perfectly aligned with her opened bedroom door to reflect back her naked image, she walked around her bedroom naked and in plain sight while getting her clothes and putting them on the bed in readiness to get dress. Never has she felt as perversely perverted as she felt now.
Never has she felt so sexually excited exposing her naked body to her son. Willing to make a fool of herself if he rejected her incestuous seduction, at the very least, flashing herself to him gave her fodder to masturbate over later. With him leaving her to start his life, she was desperate for him to see her without her clothes. Once seeing her naked, she was desperate to know if he'd take the next step. She was desperate to know if he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She removed her dress from the closet. Without him even having to turn around to look, with him watching her through the living room mirror, she knew he could see the side of her breasts and her ass when she walked by her open bedroom door. As if she was inviting him to fuck her, bending over in his line of vision, she neatly laid her skirt and blouse on the bed. While leaning down to fuss with the collar, she knew she was teasing him by showing him her naked ass and pussy. Always wanting to flash him when in her panty and bra and topless even, she never thought she'd ever do what she was doing now.
With her walking by her open bedroom door again and again, she walked to her dresser. She removed her panty and bra and placed those on the bed too. Daring herself to walk to her door naked and call out to him, she was so tempted to ask his advice in having him select her panty and bra. She imagined him coming into her bedroom to help her get dressed. She imagined him feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples while helping her on with her bra. She imagined him feeling her ass and fingering her pussy while helping her on with her panties.
Perhaps going too far in her desperation to explore more of a forbidden, sexual relationship, she was so nervous flashing her son her naked body. Yet, she did, over and again. With him encouraging her by not looking away, she was so sexually excited that he was watching her. Not sure what she'd do or what he'd do if he did make a move, she wished he'd walk in her bedroom while she was naked. She wished he'd lean against the door jamb to talk to her as he always did as if she was fully dressed instead of being totally naked.
With her wanting him to see her naked body up close, she's masturbated many times over the thoughts of him touching her and feeling her while kissing her. With her wanting to see him naked, she's masturbated herself many times over having sex with her son. Fortunately or unfortunately, crossing the incestuous line is something she'd never do, until now. Now or never, this was her last opportunity to finally seduce her son.
Honestly, with her not having pangs of guilt over her naked exhibitionism until later, it felt so good to be sexually wicked. Something she's been wanting to do since he turned 18-years-old, finally, she was flashing him her naked body. Only, he disappeared for four, long, sexually frustrating years when he went to college out of state. Between his college expenses and her never making enough money as a lowly secretary to save any extra money, just as he couldn't afford to come home for the holidays, she couldn't afford to pay him to come home. With him home now, she had plenty of opportunities to do the sexual things that she's sexually fantasized doing and that she's always wanted to do with her son. Calling her own bluff, this was the first time she's been so sexually blatant with him.
She knew he could see her. She knew he was watching her. She knew she was showing him all that she wanted him to see of her naked body and all that he no doubt wanted to see of her naked body. Instead of going to a stupid office Christmas party, she'd rather stay home and make love to him before fucking him. Only, just a salacious sexual thought, her having an incestuous affair with her son would never happen. It was enough that she was exposing herself to him. Finally, she closed her bedroom door but not before she walked to the door totally naked and called out to him to get his attention.
"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes Daniel," she said.
Waiting for him to turn around to look at her, she was shaking she was so sexually aroused. He turned to look at her and she stood there as if she was a deer caught in headlights. They looked at one another as if they were potential lovers instead of mother and son. Not lifting a hand or an arm to cover her nakedness, she stood there staring at her son in the way he sat there staring at her. When he didn't make a move that she hoped he'd make, and when he didn't come in her room and take her as she imagined he would, she closed her bedroom door as disappointed as she was sexually frustrated.
"Okay Mom," he said turning his head in her direction while staring longer than any son should at his naked mother.
She closed her bedroom door to stand in front of her mirror. Staring at her naked self, she silently talked to herself.
'Oh, my God. I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I exposed my naked body to my son. Daniel saw me naked. He saw my tits, my pussy, and my ass. I can't believe I flashed him my naked body,' she said to herself while getting dressed.
She put on her panties and bra before slipping in her dress. While fixing makeup, she continued silently talking to herself as if there was someone else there with her.
'Maybe tomorrow, Christmas day, when we're watching a movie, hoping he'll take the hint, I'll put his hand on my breasts. Maybe tomorrow, my way of hitting him in the back of the head with a baseball bat to tell him in certain term that I want him, I'll grab his cock through his pajama bottoms.'
While doing her hair, she continued her personal, private conversation.
'Maybe tomorrow, he'll allow me to masturbate him. Maybe tomorrow, he'll allow me to suck him. Maybe tomorrow, he'll cum in my mouth after making love to me.'
* * * * *
With Christine drinking and dancing all night, sexually frustrated after being forced to behave by acting her role as the appropriate mother all night, the one thing she couldn't stop thinking of was flashing her naked body to her son. Just as he didn't say anything about her sudden exhibitionism, she didn't either. Needing to push the envelope, things didn't escalate until Daniel took the car keys from her.
"I'll drive," he said helping her get in the passenger side of the car. "You're too drunk to drive."
Removing her coat, she tossed it in the backseat.
"I'm hot," she said even though it was cold outside. "Merry Christmas," she said turning to face her son.
Something she's been wanting to do since forever, she wrapped her arms around his neck, cemented her body against his, and parting his lips with her tongue. With there no mistaking her sexual intentions, she gave him a long, wet kiss. Playing her part as his incoherent, drunken mother, acting more inebriated than she was, this was her opportunity to seduce her son. Unable to wait until she got him home alone, she was ready to fool around in the car. With her skirt up around her crotch, she made sure she flashed her son her panties when getting in the car. With her wishing she had removed her panties in the ladies room, she only wished she wasn't wearing panties. She wished she was flashing him her pussy instead of only her panties.
She sat in the passenger seat spread legged and when he leaned down to lift her ankles in the car, she gave him quite the up close show between her legs of her shapely thighs and her panties. At one point, his nose was so close to her pussy that she knew he could smell her perfumed powder. She only wished he'd run a finger along her obvious pussy slit and give her an orgasm in the way she wanted to give him one too. She only wished he'd lick her through her panty. She only wished he'd pull out his cock and invite her to touch him, stroke him, and suck him. Ready to suck him right there in the parking lot, she'd suck his cock while she sat there in the car with him standing in front of her by the opened car door.
Not making any attempt to pull her skirt down and sit like a lady, and in the way that any mother should, maybe if she continued flashing him her panties, he'd get the hint and park the car by the side of the road to have sex with his horny, drunken mother. She'd like nothing better than to make out with him while he touched and felt her everywhere a son should never touch and feel his mother. The last time she was this drunk was after Prom night more than twenty years ago when she had sex with a man she never saw again. Oddly enough, 23 years later, she hoped to repeat the cycle but with her son this time.
"Just relax Mom. We'll be home in half an hour. Maybe you should take a nap," he said looking over at her exposed panty while patting her naked thigh.
With her wishing he'd move her hand higher, she was do tempted to take his hand and put it on her panty clad cunt. She so wished he'd touch her and finger her pussy in the way she imagined herself stroking his cock. If only he'd touch her, she'd take it from there. Only not wanting to be the one to initiate incestuous sex, even though she exposed her naked body to him and was sitting there with her legs spread, she needed him to make the first move. Then, when he didn't touch her and feel her, she knew it was all up to her.
"Okay, as long as I can sleep," she said leaning across the seat with her head in her son's lap.
Something she always wanted to do when watching a movie together, she was finally doing now. If only he was wearing his pajama bottoms, she'd be feeling his cock through his pajamas right now. With his flaccid cock so very close to her mouth, if he was naked right now, she'd be stroking him. If he was naked right now, she'd be blowing him. With her so drunk and so horny, if only he'd park the car somewhere private, she'd be fucking him. With her drunkenness her excuse, her going away gift to him, she'd love nothing more than to suck and fuck her son.
Making it appear not as obvious but accidental at first, curious about his reaction to her touching him, it didn't take her very long to touch and feel his penis through his pants. Not telling her to stop and to behave, and not brushing her hand away, seeming he was enjoying her touching his emerging erection through his trousers. She thought about all of the times she masturbated herself while imagining touching her son. She thought of all the times she masturbated herself while imagining stroking her son as he touched and felt her breasts. She thought of all the times she masturbated herself while imagining sucking her son before fucking her son. With them having a 30 minute ride home and with her head already in his lap, maybe she'd give him some sexy, unexpected, impulsive, sexual fun.
* * * * *
During all of those times they cuddled on the couch while watching a movie, she so wanted to touch her son's cock through his pajamas while he felt her breasts and fingered her nipples through her nightgown. Now here it is, her sexual fantasy come true on the pretense that she's drunk, really drunk, when she wasn't that drunk at all. Certainly, she was sober enough to know what she was doing. Moreover, she was plenty sober enough to remember tomorrow all that she did tonight.
As if slowly tracing her nipple or gently rubbing her clit, as if his cock was something invaluable and delicate, and indeed to her it was, first she lightly traced the outline of his cock with her manicured fingertips. Then, teasing him a little more by adding more pressure, she fingered the head of his cock through his pants with her thumb and index finger. With her pretending she was sleeping and touching him in her sleep, with his cock throbbing and pulsating while hardening, if he didn't know her incestuous, sexual intentions before, he certainly knew them now. Yet, it wasn't until she grabbed his growing prick through his pants that he reached his hand down to feel her breasts through her blouse and bra. A long time sexual fantasy come true, she couldn't believe she was groping her son's cock while he groped her breasts.
She couldn't believe they were finally doing this. She couldn't believe she was feeling his cock through his pants while he felt her breasts through her blouse and bra. She couldn't believe that seemingly, he wanted to touch and feel her as much as she wanted to touch and feel him. She couldn't believe he was inappropriately touching and feeling her in the way that she was inappropriately touching and feeling him. Maybe her walking around him naked got to him as much as it got to her. Maybe that unexpected, surprise of a French kiss she gave him when standing outside of the car sexually excited him as much as it sexually excited her.
Instantly her nipples erected and hardened and as soon as they did, he fingered them. It felt so sexually arousing to finger the head of his cock while he fingered her hard, erect nipples. As if her nipples were the secret combination to her sexual arousal, she squirmed with his gentle, sexual touch. She only wished he was sucking her tits while fingering her pussy. With him fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra and her fingering his cock through his pants, obviously they were both sexually aroused.
Just as it didn't take her very long to become wet, it didn't take him very long to become hard. Exposing her long line of cleavage and sexy low cut bra to his horny eyes, she allowed him to unbutton the top few buttons of her blouse. As if she was watching their sexual interaction from afar, she watched him reach his hand inside of her blouse and down her bra to feel her naked breasts while fingering her nipples. It was obvious that he was enjoying touching and feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples as much as she was enjoying touching his cock and feeling his cock. It was obvious that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. With her not saying no to anything that he wanted to do to her body and with him not resisting her motherly albeit sexual touch, and with Burl Ives singing Jingle Bells in the background, Christine brazenly took the next step and unzipped her son.
Thinking that he would, he didn't stop her from unzipping him. Nor did he stop her from reaching her drunken hand inside of his pants. In the way he was feeling her tits through her blouse and bra, she felt his prick grow harder and stiffer through his thin, cotton underwear. The sexual sensation of touching her son and feeling him through his briefs was something she missed doing with a man. It's been a long time since she's felt a man's erection. It's been a long time since she's had a cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy.
The sexual sensation of him touching her naked breast while fingering her nipples was something that's she's been sexually fantasizing about while masturbating over for years. Not since she divorce her husband years ago has she touched a cock, felt a cock, stroked a cock, sucked a cock, and fucked a cock and here she was touching and feeling her son's big prick. She dated a few men but men only wanted one thing and as soon as they knew she had a child, they were gone. With no man willing to give her a commitment, she was content living alone with her son.
Then, doing what no mother should ever do with her son, while waiting for him to stop her, she unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants. With him the sober one, he could have stopped her but he didn't. With him the sane one, he could have put an end to this but he didn't. Obviously he wanted this as much as she wanted this.
With his cock tenting his briefs, she felt him through his underwear again before she pulled the top of his underwear down to expose the head of his prick to her motherly eyes. She needed to see him before she touched him. Pulling his underwear down further, she stared at his cock before touching his cock. Then, she reached her horny hand inside of his underwear to wrap her fingers around the base of his erection before reaching even lower to cup his testicles. A longtime sexual fantasy, her son's prick was firmly in her hand.
She felt him stop breathing as soon as she felt his cock in her hot hand. Then as if she was grabbing her dildo, she pulled his prick further out of his underwear. Staring at her son's cock first before stroking his big prick, she looked up at him looking down at her. Stroking him slowly before stroking him a little faster, she wanted to take him in her mouth and suck him but she was afraid. Even though she was an incestuous slut and even though she was a wicked whore, she didn't want her son to think she was an incestuous slut and a wicked whore.
If only he knew she wanted to suck him, she wondered if he'd let her. If only he knew she wanted him to cum in her mouth, she wondered what he'd say and if he would. If only he knew she'd swallow his cum, she wondered what he'd do. Would he put a gentle hand to the back of her head while humping her mouth and fucking her face or would he push her away in disgust?
A mother touching her son is one thing but a mother sucking her son is something else entirely. With a hand job an act of motherly love, a blowjob was incestuously wicked. Certainly, if he was incapacitated after an accident, she'd willingly give her son a hand job to remove the sexual tension. It was one thing to masturbate her son but it was something else entirely for her to suck her son, allow him to cum in her mouth, and to swallow his cum.
Feeling that she's gone too far, sensing that he'd reject her, and already guilty that she's ruined the loving mother and son relationship they so enjoyed having, she looked up at him while trying to read him. With her stroking him and him still feeling her tits while fingering her nipples, did he want her to suck him or was this as far as he'd be willing to go? She was his mother after all and he was her son. What they were doing now was forbidden but encouraged by him not stopping her and further encouraged by his obvious erection and sexual excitement, she continued sexually seducing her son. Having gone this far and with him leaving soon and this being now or never, going all the way, she felt him gasp when she took him in her mouth.
* * * * *
Christine couldn't sleep again. Usually not remembering what day it was, she remembered what day it was today. It was Christmas morning. Sometimes forgetting what day, what month, and what year it was, seemingly it was just the Fourth of July not that long ago. She couldn't believe it's already been a year since last Christmas, the worst Christmas she's ever had in her life.
Laying on her back while staring up at the ceiling, she was wide awake while thinking about her son, Daniel. Expecting to see nothing but darkness, she sat up in bed to look out her bedroom window at the night. Instead of seeing nothing but the dark and frightening shadows, as if nature had turned on a nightlight, she was surprised to see that everything was white. She was accustomed to seeing pitch black when she awakened during the night and looked out her window. In addition to there being a big, bright full moon, everything was light and white.
Just as the weatherman correctly predicted, it was snowing. She was excited about the snow. As if whitewashing everything white as Mark Twain did with his character, Tom Sawyer, she loved how temporarily quiet and clean the snow made everything. Something she'd never tell anyone for fear that they'd think her insane, seemingly the deadening weight of the snow was the only thing that stopped the voices she heard in her head.
As if the snow was an insulating blanket blocking out the sounds of the country, everything outside was so stilly quiet. With no birds and no animals out and about, they all knew to seek shelter. After a winter of warmer than seasonable weather, it was going to be a white Christmas after all. Just as Bing Crosby sung in his song, White Christmas, when dreaming of a white Christmas, it doesn't seem like Christmas without snow on the ground.
Only, along with the snow came the cold, that real, bone chilling, bitter cold that made her just want to pull the covers over her head and sleep until the spring. With no one out and about, unless they had to go to work, everyone stayed home on cold, snowy days like these. All last year she walked around her house dressed in her flannel nightgown, flannel robe, and Ugg slippers, while wrapped in a wool blanket.
Even though she liked the snow, as long as there was someone else there to shovel it, Christine hated the cold. The cold reminded her of that freezing night when she was trapped in her totaled car after her son's fatal car crash. She had never been as cold as she was that night while waiting for someone to come rescue her and her dying son.
* * * * *
"Daniel! Daniel! Stay with me. You're going to be all right. Help is coming. Don't worry. The car automatically called 911 and informed them where we are," she said trying to stop him from going into shock.
Only, dying instantly upon impact with the tree, dead already, Daniel didn't answer her. Even more than hating the cold, she hated that howling wind that no matter what she wore to keep herself warm, it was never enough. As if the wind was a wailing ghost, and as if the Angels were crying, the wind was whistling that night. The deep, drifting snow and the cold, along with a grey, cloudless sky, and the howling wind reminded her too much of death and too much of that awful night. She hated the grey, rainy days of November that ushered in the long, cold, days of winter. Needing a drink to stop her hands from shaking, she needed another drink to stop the voices, and still another drink to help her to forget.
Death had been a recent visitor to her door. Even though Christine loved Christmas, with the death of her son last Christmas, on early Christmas day, that was the worst Christmas she could possibly have had. She didn't think she'd ever celebrate another Christmas but only a year later, here she is gingerly ready to greet Santa Claus before ringing in the New Year.
"Ho! Ho! Ho," said the Salvation Army Santa ringing their bells in their requests for money to fill their kettles whenever she went to the mall or to the market.
Her son would have wanted her to get on with her life. If only in memory of him, he would have wanted her to continue to celebrate their favorite holiday. Perhaps, if he was in Heaven, and she believed he was, he'd be looking down upon the Christmas tree that she reluctantly and sadly decorated for him in his honor. With her heart not in it, what normally took her a couple of hours to put up took her three days to finish decorating.
With all of the ornaments she bought him through the years weighing heavily on her heart as it weighed down the branches, if only he was still here, she'd be so happy. Wishing it was all just a bad dream that would disappear as soon as she awakened, if only his death was a nightmare but it wasn't. Too much of a loss for any mother to bear, every day she faced the same, sad reality of living her life without him. She tried killing herself with sleeping pills but unable to go through with it, she called 911 before losing consciousness. With them grilling her, hounding her, restraining her, and medicating her when she suddenly turned violent, she spent 30 days in a mental hospital for observation.
* * * * *
Like mother like son, Daniel loved Christmas too. He loved Christmas decorations, ornaments, and Christmas music, especially Christmas music. Every year, before he went away to college for four years, the day after Christmas, they'd go to the local Hallmark store to buy Christmas ornaments at half off their retail price for next year's tree. Always forgetting about the ornaments they bought last year after Christmas, opening the new, unopened ornaments was always a welcomed surprise. For the last four years, picking out ornaments that she thought he'd buy, she's been buying ornaments alone. Only this year, when she opened the ornaments that she bought last year, she cried. Memories she'll never forget and that will always haunt her, she remembered how excited he was over this ornament or that ornament that he bought years ago as a child.
Music that once made her so happy now made her so sad, too sad, so very sad, and too sad to play. She used to love Christmas music and even though she relented in putting up the tree to keep herself busy, she just couldn't bring herself to play Christmas music. Now, instead of sleeping and instead of getting up to make the best of another miserable day, she preferred staring out her bedroom window at the peaceful quiet of nothingness and emptiness. At least with the snow, she had something else to look at other than darkness. She enjoyed watching the snow falling, the bare branches swaying, and the snow drifting higher to the commanding orchestration of the wind. She remembered how she used to watch him playing in the snow in the backyard from her kitchen window, and now he's gone. All her fault, he's gone forever.
She wished she had died in that car crash instead of him. There must be nothing, absolutely nothing when we die. She imagined that's how it must be to be dead. Suspended in time, she imagined death must feel the same as it does before we're born. How awful to be dead? How awful for her to lose her son so soon, too soon? Covered with snow, the cemetery where he's buried must be so cold. She imagined him shivering in his coffin, only he's dead. He sees nothing, hears nothing, and feels nothing. He's not there. He's gone hopefully to Heaven.
With him having just graduated college, she'll never see him work at his chosen career. She'll never welcome the new house he'd buy one day with a house warming gift. With him not ready to take a wife, with him not even steadily dating anyone, she'll never see the grandchildren he may have had. With her having already lived much of her life, she wished it was her that died that day in her car and not him.
Yet, even though there was no music playing, startled awake to mindlessly stare out her bedroom window at the snow falling, for some reason, Jingle Bells played through Christine's brunette, pretty head. With her radio not on, having already heard the song a thousand times before, perhaps she was just imagining Burl Ives singing the song. As if she had been magnetized or hypnotize to react to the sound and to the song of Jingle Bells, she sat up in bed to listen. As if the music was far away, the sound was haunting. Whether the music was imagined or real, she distinctly heard Jingle Bells. Only, instead of putting her in a good mood and in a good place, Jingle Bells was the last song she heard on the car radio before the crash. Now, wishing she were dead, the imagined music put her in a foul mood and in a bad place.
With everything so stilly quiet, always at this early hour of the morning, there was an eeriness in the air as if there was someone here with her and watching her. The bewitching hours between 2 am and 5 am, she looked at her nightstand clock and it was 3:33. The feeling that there was something or someone there in the dark watching her made the hair on her arms stand. Sensing a presence, she looked at every familiar shadow in her room while imagining that it was something else or someone else. Fearing the unknown, the afterlife, and/or the nothingness of death, she was afraid of every sound she heard in the dark. While allowing her imagination to get the better of her, she imagined every sound she heard was something different than it was.
What happens when you die she wondered? Is there Heaven and is there Hell she wondered? With this moment her reality now, she feared what evil may lurk in the shadows of her bedroom while watching her. She signed herself and said a silent prayer for her son before saying a prayer for herself to Saint Michael to protect her from evil, from harm, and from the Devil.
Now too afraid to sleep, wide awake, she was done sleeping. A year of sleepless nights, she hasn't had a good night's sleep since her son died. Once, a beautiful woman, who looked ten years younger than her age, with the bags under her eyes and with her no longer having an appetite for food, looking drawn, thin, haggard, and tired, she looked ten years older than her age. As far as she was concerned, without the joy in her life that her son brought, her life was over. If she didn't fear death, the unknown, and if suicide wasn't a mortal sin, she'd kill herself.
Only, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, even though she still felt a presence, whatever it was, she didn't feel evil. Fearing whatever it was in the beginning that made her so afraid, she didn't feel fear now. Even though she knew there was something or someone still there with her, she wasn't afraid. If anything, with her no longer alone, she felt more at peace.
Call it her mother's intuition but she suspected that the presence she felt was her son. She felt her son. She could feel her son's energy. He was here in the house with her now. She knew he was. Did he come home for Christmas? Was this his last visit before saying goodbye to her forever?
She heard that ghostly spirits hang around for a year before they disappear to their final resting place. Then, there were those ghosts who never found their final resting places. Maybe he was one of those ghosts. Maybe he'll be hanging around her until the day she dies. Maybe he's here to accompany her to Heaven in the way that he accompanied her to her tragic office party.
* * * * *
It was always the small things and her personal choices that so affected her life and that made her happy. Oddly enough, sleeping naked was one of them. She briefly married when her son was a toddler. After she was married, she always slept in the nude. Sleeping in the nude made her feel sexy. Sleeping naked always gave her husband the go ahead signal that she was available for sex and ready to make love. Only, even though he professed he loved her and told her that her having a child by another man didn't bother him, obviously her baggage did. After her divorce and with her charged with the sole custody of her son, she stopped the practice of sleeping naked.
It wasn't until Daniel went away to college that she returned to the habit of sleeping naked. After he graduated college and returned home to live with her, she slept in a nightgown again, albeit a sheer, sexy one. Able to sleep in the nude again now that her son was gone and she lived alone, sleeping in the nude made her feel alive when she's been feeling so dead with the death of her son. Sleeping in the nude made her feel something other than nothing. Sleeping in the nude made her feel sexually desirable and horny again, horny enough to masturbate herself again.
Imagining someone seeing her walking around her house naked, a peeper perhaps, her skin always tingled when she slept naked. Whether it was the sheet or the covers that caressed her body in the way she imagined her son sexually, incestuously, and inappropriately touched her as he did that night in her car, her naked body made her feel something other than death, grief, and sadness. Only, she wished she had a man sleeping naked with her. Ideally not just any man, she wished she had her son in bed with her. Having seen the way he stared at her, she wished she had given Daniel what he so wanted, her naked body before he died. Such a loss and such a waste, adding more proof to the saying that the good die young, he died too young. He died after experiencing so little of life and so sexually little of her.
Suddenly uncomfortable roaming the house naked as she usually does since her son died, Christine slipped on her bathrobe before heading downstairs to investigate her sense that there was someone in her house. Making her feel more comfortable, even though she knew it was the presence of her son she felt, a ghost who would never harm her, she turned on every light in the house as she went. With her normally walking around the house naked in the morning but for her slippers, she turned on all of the lights as much for her son's benefit as she did for her own feelings of safety, comfort, and security.
Only whoever was out there in the dark could see her flitting around the kitchen and making coffee in the nude. Wishing someone would see her naked, she needed some kind of excitement in her life, sexual or otherwise, even if it was unwelcomed violent or sexual excitement. Ever since her son died, going through life as if a zombie, she died inside too. If she was unable to make herself happy, maybe she could make a peeper happy by flashing him her nude body.
What her son couldn't see of her in life, she hoped he could see of her in death. She imagined he could see her naked body and it made her horny to think that he could see her from his world of the dead to her world of the living. Yet, now that she felt his presence, she felt incestuously wicked and embarrassed that she was exposing herself to him.
Still she felt guilty from that fateful night with her causing him to crash and die. After exposing her naked body to him before attending the party and sucking his cock after the party while allowing him to feel her breasts and finger her nipples, feeling that she was without redeeming qualities, she suddenly felt like an incorrigible whore. Now, instead of walking around her house without her clothes, she felt more comfortable with her robe than without. Maybe it wasn't his spiritual energy that she suspected she felt but an intruder.
There was a feeling, a mysterious energy from whoever was in the room with her that controlled her being and held her mind hostage. Then, for no explicable reason, the Angel poised at the top of the Christmas tree, his favorite ornament, suddenly moved as if the Angel had mysteriously and animatedly come to life. In a house so quiet that she could hear the ticking of the clock on the mantle, the sudden rustling sound of the Angel made her stop to look at the Christmas tree. She stopped moving about the room to listen to the quiet.
Was he there standing by the tree? Was he happy that she decorated the tree just for him? By making the Angel ornament move, was he telling her that he was an Angel? Again, the hair on her arms raised up as if her forearm was a brush charged with static electricity that caused her hair to stand.
Expecting to see him as if he was the ghost Marion or George Kerby in the old situation comedy series, Topper, she stared at the Angel as if expecting to receive a message from God or from her son. She stared at the Angel as if there was a ghost there taunting her, teasing her, scaring her, and/or trying to get her attention. She stared at the Angel while saying a silent prayer that her son would forever rest in peace. With his death all her fault, she prayed for his forgiveness.
* * * * *
"Who's there? What do you want? I have a gun," she said suddenly afraid that an intruder or a peeper, instead of her son, was watching her while planning his next move of attack.
Only, call it a mother's intuition, she knew that it wasn't an intruder or a peeper. She knew that whoever was there with her now wasn't of this Earth. Wanting to believe it was Daniel, she suspected that the spiritual energy was that of her son. It gave her some modicum of comfort to know that her son could transgress two worlds, going from the world of the dead to the world of the living. It gave her some modicum of peace to know that her son was there with her now.
The lights dimmed for a second and the decorations on the tree jingled as if the dog's tail had bumped the tree but the dog had just gotten up from sleeping in his bed when she came downstairs. Consumed by an eeriness and an uneasiness, she looked about the room for a sign that Daniel was there with her. The dog, standing beside her and nowhere near the tree, was always first to know when a spiritual visitor was here with her. Buster seemingly wasn't as flustered as she was. Only, instead of making her feel safe, the dog's focused stare made her feel nervous, ill at ease, and suddenly afraid again.
As if her son was up on the ceiling looking down at her, Buster looked up towards the ceiling. Then staring straight ahead, he seemed transfixed with the top of the wall. As if he recognized the spiritual visitor and the visitor was holding a cookie, his tail was wagging. Then, he sat as if having been given the command to sit.
A spiritual visitor was a much better and a more descriptive term to use than a ghost, especially when referring to her son's energy. How can someone she so loved be a ghost to her? Much more than paranormal activity, he was more than just a mere figment of her imagination. Whether dead or alive, he was still her son. With the dog unnerving her, needing to be alone with her son, she put the dog outside to do his business in the snow.
Seemingly unable to leave her and not resting in peace, if now that he's here, she suspected that the energy must be that of her deceased son. She suspected her son had some unfinished business before he could rest in peace. She suspected she knew what his unfinished business was. Based on their last time together, when she was giving him a blowjob in the front seat of her car, just before he had his fatal automobile accident, she suspected that her son's unfinished business was her.
The best Christmas gift she could hope to have, she enjoyed having the thought that her son had come home for Christmas. Obviously, her son had returned home for her. Only, she didn't know what he'd be able to do to sexually satisfy her or himself with him being dead. Dead, dead, dead, he was dead and what she was imagining wasn't real. Only, she could feel him as if he was still alive and was there with her now. She really could feel his presence and, with nothing to lose, she decided to try and contact him by speaking to him.
"I'm sorry Daniel. The accident that killed you was my fault," she said bursting in tears, after realizing that she was talking to no one but herself. "Your death is all my fault. Please forgive me."
* * * * *
With the Christmas music playing in the background everywhere she went, especially at the mall, even though she forced herself to put up and decorate a tree, she wasn't in the mood for Christmas. As if it was all static noise in her head, with people everywhere and the television screaming Christmas commercials at her to buy things she didn't want and didn't need, she just wanted to stay in bed and pull the covers over her head. It was painful to be constantly and continually reminded of his favorite holiday without having him there to share in the holiday celebration. Unable to even grieve because of all the guilt she felt, it was too soon to forgive herself for killing her son and too soon to forget the tragic, traffic accident.
She still can't believe he'd dead. He's gone. He's gone forever. Seemingly as if it happened yesterday with the nightmares, the voices in her head, and the headaches she had preventing her from getting a good night's sleep, the accident that took her precious son had only been a year ago. She still can't believe it. The one person she loved, the only person she truly loved, is gone from her forever.
Thinking about all the things that she could have done to change the outcome of that fateful day, she wished she hadn't been drinking. If she had been sober, she would have been driving. If she had been driving, she wouldn't have been sucking her son. Only, something came over her that night. Sexually frustrated for so very long, after showing him her naked body before she left the house and after dancing with him all night, she was so very horny.
Then with him busy driving the car, he was her sexual prisoner for a time, until they made it home. She remembered how he looked at her when she flashed him her naked body. With the alcohol removing her sexual inhibitions, her inebriated state gave her the courage to feel her son's cock through his jeans while he removed one hand from the steering wheel to reach his hand over to her to feel her breasts through her blouse and bra. Sadly, what was once so beautiful is now so painfully hard to live her life without him.
Passively encouraged by him not swatting her hand away and/or telling her to stop and to behave, once he started feeling her nipples through her blouse and bra, she unzipped him, and stuck her hand inside his pants. As if fingering her nipples was her signal to go wild, all he ever needed to do to sexually turn her on was to finger her nipples. Of course, it would help for him to finger her pussy but from where he was sitting while driving the car, there was no way he could reach to masturbate her while driving. Yet, she could masturbate him while he drove.
As if their sexual encounter happened last night, she remembered fondling his quickly emerging erection through his thin, white, cotton briefs. With him sticking his hand inside her blouse and down her bra while continuing to feel and fondle her breasts and finger her nipples, he immediately had an erection. Not wasting any more time with her indecision, should she or shouldn't she, she unbuckled and buttoned his pants, pulled down his underwear, and exposed his cock. Oh my God, she remembered being so very sexually excited.
With his prick a beautiful part of his sublime body, she stared at his cock before touching his cock. With her knowing she was doing something so wrong, but not caring that what they were about to do was forbidden, she wrapped her fingers around her son's stiff prick. The fact that they were about to embark upon a sexual relationship made it even that more exciting. Going way beyond the point of no return, they had both crossed over the incestuous line.
With her wanting to give him a very special Christmas gift, she began to slowly stroke him while looking up at him to watch his reaction to his mother not only seeing his big prick but also stroking his big prick. She gazed down at his engorged prick while he one handedly unbuttoned her blouse to expose her bra clad breasts. He looked so very much like his father and with it having been so long since she held a cock in her hand, she stared down at his penis to examine his stiff prick. Then, she did what no mother should ever do to her son, wanting him to cum, she stroked him faster while looking up at him. With him paying more attention to his cock in her hand and her tits in his hand, she had to warn him to watch the road.
"Careful Daniel. Pay attention to your driving while Mommy pays attention to your cock," she said with a dirty laugh.
She was drunk, so very drunk yet not as drunk as she professed to be. Still no excuse for her inappropriate, sexual, incestuous behavior, she couldn't remember being as drunk as she was that night. It was twenty more minutes before they'd be home and she had plenty of time to do what she was intent on doing. Having imagined doing this dozens of times while she masturbated herself, now that she's taken his cock in her hand, she wanted to know what it would feel like to take her son's prick in her mouth. In the way that he was watching her having her wicked, sexual way with his stiff prick and in the way that he was looking at her while feeling her big tits, she knew that he wanted her to suck him as much as she wanted to suck him.
"That feels so good Mom," he said looking down at her hand again when he should have been watching the road.
Then, while he fondled her breast and fingered her nipples inside her bra, she lost all control. As if she willed him to finger her nipples while she stroked his cock, this was the first step in them having sex and changing their mother and son relationship forever. With her nipples her erogenous zone, as long as he continued fingering, pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples, she knew her sucking his prick was inevitable. She couldn't wait to take him in her mouth. She couldn't wait to suck her son.
Making herself more comfortable, she slid her body all the way across the seat and lowered her head. She was glad her car had a bench seat instead of having an in the way console between them. Only, with her center of gravity so low and preventing her head from hitting anything in the car crash, with her positioned on his lap and away from the windshield and dashboard somehow saved her life. She was lucky to have survived the accident.
"I have a very special Christmas gift for you," she said kissing his cock before licking his cock while looking up at him looking down at her. "Would you like your special Christmas gift now or later?"
He stared down at her holding his stiff prick in her hand while she continued kissing and licking his cock. Obviously, not needing to guess, he knew exactly what his very special, Christmas gift was.
"Now please," he said.
As soon as he said that he'd like his special Christmas gift now, she took his cock in her mouth and started blowing him, really blowing him. Christine was sucking her son. A night to remember forever, stroking him while sucking him, she was really sucking her son. She couldn't believe she was finally sucking her son.
Just as much as he obviously wanted to cum in her mouth, she wanted him to cum in her mouth. As if she was dreaming it, she couldn't believe she was sucking him. As if her sexual fantasy had finally come true and as if she was fantasizing about blowing him, she couldn't believe she had her son's stiff prick in her mouth. Determined to get him to cum in her mouth by stroking him faster and sucking him deeper, she'd like nothing more than for him to cum in her mouth.
* * * * *
With Christmas carolers singing their songs of the season outside of her house last night in their feeble attempt to give her some holiday cheer and to get her in the holiday spirit. She had the urge to go outside and chase them away with her snow shovel. It wasn't until her neighbor from across the street spoke to them, no doubt telling them that she had lost her son in a tragic accident last Christmas that they left to annoy someone else. Even though she loved Christmas music and even before the death of her son, she disliked Christmas carolers.
The only holiday cheer she wanted was booze. Keeping her sedated with alcohol allowed her to deal with the fact that she caused the death of her son. Drinking quieted the voices that she imagined she heard in her head. Besides her gin and vodka, the only holiday spirit she had was whatever was haunting her now. Yet, as if her mourning the loss of her son wasn't enough, Christine was in for a big surprise. What should have been a season without holiday celebration was a season not only filled with happiness and joy but also filled with incestuous sex between a mother and her son.
"Mom? Is that you?"
What was that? She heard a voice. If she thought she was hearing voices before, she was definitely hearing voices now. She could have sworn she heard a voice. Was she hearing things? Was she imagining things? She distinctly heard his voice. She just heard Daniel's voice. Was that really his voice? Between sensing spirits and hearing voices, she was glad that she stopped drinking weeks ago. If she was still abusing alcohol, she'd blame hearing Daniel's voice on that.
"I'm here Daniel," she said looking around the room for the origin of the voice.
It was a few minutes before he answered her. It was a few minutes before she imagined herself losing her mind. It was a few minutes of panic that she realized her son really could be here with her now.
"Please stop feeling guilty and responsible for my death. What happened was just as much my fault as it was your fault," he said. "It was just a tragic and unfortunate accident."
Whether imagined or real, hearing him say that made her feel better. Hearing him say that gave her some peace. Did she really hear him say that or did she just think that in her head. She didn't know. She couldn't tell.
Unable to distinguish his voice from her guilty conscience, it comforted her to imagine that he was here with her. Perhaps the words was just her voice in her head. Perhaps the words were his thoughts that somehow transcended from the world of the dead to the world of the living. Yet, whether he really did say that or she thought that, the words gave her great comfort and peace.
God, now she's trying to communicate with the dead and to the imagined voice she just heard. She needs to let go of him. She needs to get on with her life. Thank God she stopped her drinking weeks ago. She stopped drinking not for herself, but for her son.
Yet, maybe she's not hearing voices or feeling spirits at all. Maybe she was having DT's, delirium tremens from alcohol withdrawal. Maybe she was imagining things and hearing things that weren't there because she hasn't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. Maybe she was imagining things and hearing things because she still responsible and guilty for the death of her beloved son.
Suddenly, as if he was the culmination of a magic trick and as if he was a magician's real, live abracadabra or a witches skullduggery of a hocus pocus, he mystically and miraculously appeared before her. He stood right in front of her as if he was alive instead of dead. Her son appeared before her eyes.
She was shocked. She was stupefied. She was amazed that her son seemingly was there with her now. Yet, how could he materialize in the flesh when he's dead and buried? How could he be with her now when he's gone?
"As if a fog just lifted, I can see you now," he said with a joyous smile.
Not even caring that her hair was such a frightful mess, she was just so happy to see her son.
"And where I couldn't see you before, I can see you now too," she said smiling at her son while tying the tie on her bathrobe tighter than her grasp of reality.
Wondering if she could touch him or if he'd disappear in thin air when she tried to hold him, she walked to him to hug him. Feeling his hands on her as much as she felt her hands on him, they hugged for the longest time. They hugged without talking. Hugging one another much longer than necessary but understandably with him being dead and now suddenly returning to life, she was afraid to let him go and seemingly he was afraid to let her go too.
Even though she could feel him and she could feel his hands on her, she wondered if he was really there with her. She wondered if she was imagining him being there. She wondered if she was still in bed dreaming of him returning to her. Even though she stopped drinking weeks ago, perhaps just imagining that she had stopped drinking but never did, she wondered if she was drunk again.
She was certain that she wasn't imagining him. He was there with her. He was really there. With her wide awake, she knew that she wasn't still in bed dreaming. With her swearing off the booze to honor her son, she was glad she couldn't blame the alcohol on this ghostly sighting. Only if he was dead, how could he return to her in the way he was standing before her now? He felt so very much alive to her.
* * * * *
With her feeling his spirit for days, she wondered how long he's been here. She wondered if he's been watching her all along. She wondered how long he'll be able to stay before having to go wherever he now belongs. Suddenly, her thoughts turned sexual instead of spiritual. Being that she now sleeps in the nude again, she wondered if he saw her sleeping naked.
It sexually aroused her to think that her son could see her and saw her sleeping naked. She wondered if he watched her undressing. She wondered if he watched her changing her clothes. She wondered if he watched her showering, going to the bathroom, and/or masturbating. She wondered if he could still masturbate now that he was dead and if he could still masturbate, she wondered if he masturbated over her in the way that she still masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with him.
Such crazy, sexual thoughts to have for her son but she was horny. Sexually frustrated, she was lonely. She was aroused with the sexual thoughts that they could continue where they left off when he was alive. Only, how can someone who's dead transcend and incestuously transgress the world of the living? Something she was so intent on doing when he was living, she was just as crazy as she was preposterous to think that her son could have sex with her now that he's dead. Only, wouldn't it be something if he could? Wouldn't it be something if they could transcend and transgress the worlds of the living and the dead by continuing with their sexual, incestuous relationship?
* * * * *
"Were you watching me sleeping naked a little while ago?"
Titillated by the thoughts that he could see her naked and did see her naked, as if beginning again where they abruptly left off, she gave him a sexually excited smile.
"Yes," he said returning her sexy smile with his naughty smile.
She wondered how long he's been here. She wondered if he's been here all along.
"I thought I felt your presence in my bedroom," she said curling her hair with her finger.
Suddenly she was sexually aroused to play this sexy game of what was I showing and what did you see.
"I was there in your bedroom," he said.
Oh my, he was in her bedroom when she was sleeping naked.
"So, you saw me sleeping naked?"
With her bedroom so very dark and with her always hot and kicking off the covers during the night, did her son see her naked? Yet between the full moon and the white snow, her room may have been light enough for him to see more than just her shadowy form. Just the thoughts that Daniel saw her naked made her nipples hard and her pussy wet.
"Yes," he said.
Her son saw her naked. What she was unwilling and unable to show him in life, until that fateful night of the Christmas party when she exposed her naked body to him while getting dressed, he saw in death. Daniel saw her naked. Her son saw her naked body while she was sleeping.
"Were you watching me changing my clothes earlier when I was getting ready for bed?"
He took her hands in his and smiled down at her.
"I couldn't turn away Mother. I couldn't help myself from watching you undress," he said. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't mean to embarrass you. It was just so sexually exciting for me to unbutton your blouse, unzip your short skirt, and unhook and remove your bra before sliding down your panties," he said with sexual excitement.
She was titillated that her son not only watched her sleeping naked but also watched her undress. With her not turning on the light to undress, she wondered how much her son saw of her in her darkened bedroom. Maybe the dark doesn't affect dead people in the way it does those still living. Maybe they're more like animals who can see in the dark.
"It's okay. I'm not embarrassed," she said. "There's nothing wrong with a son trying to get a look of his mother's naked body. You've always been such a naughty boy in trying to see Mommy's tits," she said with a dirty, little laugh.
Needing to know if they could continue where they left off, she sexually teased him by not tying her bathrobe ties tighter when they suddenly loosened. Not wanting to deny him a view of the tops of her breasts and her long line of cleavage, she wanted him to see more of her abundant breasts. After calling him a naughty boy for always trying to get a look at her tits, she wondered if he saw her breasts, really saw her breasts and not just a quick glimpse of them when she was sleeping, showering, and changing her clothes. She'd like for him to see her breasts. It would sexually excite her to know if he saw her breasts.
Suddenly feeling sexually wicked enough, in the way she paraded naked in front of him before, she was horny enough to remove her bathrobe and show him not only her tits but also her whole naked body. Unfortunately, the last time they were together in the car, she never got that far for him to see her naked when she was sucking his cock in the front seat of her car while he was driving. The next step, had they made it home in one peace, would have been to go to bed with him. Only, they never made it home to go the next step and take their incestuous, sexual relationship that far. Something that's given her pleasure while masturbating herself, she was glad now that she had exposed her body to him when she stood in her bedroom doorway naked.
"You have a beautiful body Mother," he said.
Even in death, she was sexually aroused that her son may have seen what he shouldn't see of her. She was sexually excited that her son saw what no son should see of his mother. With her responsible for his death, she wondered if he still sexually wanted her as much as she still sexually wanted him. In the way that her horniness took hold of her before, when she thought of her son while masturbating herself, it was taking hold of her again now. More than just fleeting moment of horniness, it was a mother's deep rooted and unrequited love for her son.
Wondering if he was really there standing before her, she wondered how real he was or if he was just a figment of her guilt ridden and overly active imagination. She wondered if she wasn't even awake but dreaming. She wondered if she was losing her mind. She wondered if she was crazy. If she was awake and not dreaming this, she wondered if he could have sex with the ghost of her dead son. Being that she was directly responsible for his death, after she killed him, she wondered if he'd still wanted her in the same sexual way that she still wanted him.
* * * * *
"Thank you, Daniel," she said. Wanting to continue with the inappropriate albeit titillating conversation, she paused to look at him while wording what she was going to say next. "So you saw me in my panty and bra?"
With her still having the shapely body that she had in her twenties, she loved how she looked in her bra and panty. She looked so sexy in her low cut bra and bikini panty.
"Yes," he said unable to hide his sexual excitement.
Something she wished she had done before when he was alive but with her never having the courage, she always wanted to flash her son how she looked in her sexy lingerie. Embarrassed to brazenly, immorally, and immodestly walk around the house in her bra and panty, she never did. No doubt, after flashing him her naked body, she would have walked around him in her underwear. She always wondered what he'd say or what he do if she paraded around him wearing her sexy bra and bikini panty. She was glad she flashed him her naked body on the last night they were together and that last night he was still alive.
Now going way beyond her flashing him her bra and panty and flashing her son her naked body, she never thought she'd go through with sucking her son when he was alive. She never thought she'd be having these incestuous thoughts about Daniel after he died. She never thought he'd be watching her changing and watching her sleeping naked. She just assumed that once he died all of that incestuous, sexual lust would be over and would have died with him. Only, as if he was still alive with her, they're both playing this sexy, incestuous game.
"And you watched me removing my panty and bra?"
Wanting to continue their sexy game, even though he's already confessed that he saw her undressing and watched her sleep naked, she needed to hear him say it again. She needed to know that it wasn't only her having incestuous thoughts. She needed to know that she's not dreaming or that she's crazy but all of this is real. Besides, with their conversation so erotic in nature, it was sexually exciting for her to ask him everything he may have seen of her. With their conversation so erotic in nature, it was sexually exciting for her to have him to tell her everything that he saw of her again and again.
Thinking that she'd never have this opportunity to explore their incestuous relationship again, maybe tomorrow he'd be gone forever and never to return again. Missing the big picture by thinking of the smaller things in life, she didn't ask him if there was a God or a Devil, or if he was in Heaven or Hell. Instead, with their salacious sexual conversation all about her, she wondered if he saw her C cup breasts. She wondered how well he saw her breasts. She wondered if he saw her areolas and her nipples. She wondered if he saw her trimmed pussy. She wondered if he saw her round, shapely ass. She wondered if he was as sexually aroused by her questions as she was sexually aroused by the anticipation of his answers.
"I did," he said. "Yes, I watched you remove your panty and bra."
Oh, my God. She couldn't believe her son, albeit her dead son, watched her remove her panty and bra. He saw her tits, her ass, and her pussy. He son saw her naked. Her son saw her naked body. Her son, albeit her dead son, not only watched her undressing but also watched her as she slept naked. She was so very sexually excited that he finally saw all of her close up while standing over her in her bedroom as she slept and dreamed about having sex with him.
"You saw me not only while I was sleeping in a darkened bedroom," she said curling her hair with her finger again and pausing before speaking. "But also I take it then that you saw me naked while showering in a well-lit bathroom too?"
Doubting that he'd turn away when she was naked, if he had watched her remove her bra and panty, then for sure, he had seen her naked while showering too. Only, she needed to hear him say that he had seen her naked in the well-lit bathroom. With the thoughts of him seeing her without her clothes, it was then that she felt a familiar wetness between her legs while thinking about her son ogling her naked body in the way she'd love to ogle his naked body. The last time she was with him when he was alive, she was sucking his cock in the way she wished she could suck his cock now.
"Yes, I've seen you naked many times Mother," he said.
Thinking that she was all alone but for a feeling that someone or something was there watching her, now that she knew it was her son, she was sexually thrilled that he could see her and saw her when she was naked.
"Call me Christine," she said. "Being that you're dead, we can skip the formalities."
"Of course, Christine," he said, "but whether dead or alive you'll always be my mother."
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