Ok sorry for the long delay but life gets in the way sometimes and that's exactly what has happened in my case. I have appreciated the comments both critical and supportive (Although I suppose even the critical ones are supportive if seen through the right lens). For those of you who write you may or may not feel the same as I do but sequels can be quite difficult to write. Sometimes characters take on a life of their own and don't go where you initially intend other times stories fall flat and the ebb and flow of things just don't work as they initially did. Hats off to Ahabscribe he can write sequels and keep stories interesting. The other guy to read for sequels is frozenhero1 as he has kept his character going for a year (Happy B-Day Charlie & Miley). Oh yeah Kindred_Kravings now there was a good set of sequels.
Well enough for now on with the story: As always none of this is true, all characters are 18 years or older... yada, yada, yada.
This story contains explicit sex scenes between to consenting adults who happen to be related so if that's not your cup of tea don't read any further. On top of which this is fantasy however 'sick and wrong' it maybe so... The author in no way condones, accepts, argues for or encourages this type of activity in real life. And because it's fiction all the other potential consequences of real life don't apply... so always practice safe sex!!
Feedback is sought after on anything I write, after all how else do you improve. And I will try to write back, haven't always been good at that in the past so forgive me. Voting is good but if you're just going to complain about morality I think you're on the wrong website.
Oh and looking for an editor, if you're out there let me know.
Chapter 7
The Talk
Rachel was in the kitchen putting dishes away when Michael walked in. They had both showered and dressed, if you could call it that. Rachel was wearing one of Michael's sports jerseys and a pair of white cotton panties and Michael had on a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. For a summer day it was quite mild, with the promise of warming up later on that afternoon, so neither of them felt a need to wear more than was necessary. They had showered separately; Rachel felt that it would be the only way that either of them would get out of the shower with any hot water left. Showering together maybe romantic and very sensual but it didn't really lend itself to the practicalities of getting clean. So once dressed they each began to move through their morning routines like any other day.
Upon walking into the kitchen he immediately saw that his mom had set the table and the spot where he normally sat had a place setting with a plate with a sandwich on it. As she busied herself putting away the silverware, Michael couldn't help but notice the smell of her shampoo and the scent of her clean fresh skin which filled the kitchen, it gave him a warm contented feeling deep inside that he hadn't really noticed before. Her smells were everywhere throughout the house, the kitchen, the living room, her bedroom, he knew which rooms she frequented simply by the smell. Her hair was still wet and hung in dark curls across her shoulders and down her back. Although she had dried herself before getting dressed the jersey, his jersey, clung to her in all the right places accentuating the shape of her breast, the curve of her waist and the flare of her thigh. The jersey was barely long enough to cover her panties which peek through just below the hem. There was something remarkably sexy about this look, provocative yet understated. Her long shapely legs stood out even more and the fact that she was bare foot drove Michael instantly crazy as he openly stared at her.
"Sit down and eat, you'll need your strength." The inference was blatant and deliberate and caused Michael to startle before he spoke.
"Thanks for lunch," he said as he sat down at the kitchen table. Rachel had prepared a nice roast beef sandwich with lettuce, tomato, onion, mustard and mayo on a Kaiser roll, with a slice of mozzarella cheese. He had always been the envy of the other kids at school when he came with lunches like these. On occasion he actually sold or traded his lunch to kids for things of considerable value, CD's, Play Station or Xbox games you name he'd gotten it for a simple bagged lunch. 'Fuck people are crazy' he thought.
"You're welcome baby," she replied as she continued putting away dishes. "There's more if you want it."
Michael nodded his thanks as he began to stuff his mouth full of the roast beef sandwich. Rachel continued cleaning up the kitchen, wiping down the counter top and putting the utensils in the dishwasher. She went to the cupboard and took out two glasses and walked over to the fridge. Opening the door she took out the milk and poured herself and her son a glass which she promptly placed on the table for him. A routine she had done over and over again throughout Michael's life, she loved taking care of him, sometimes to the point of doting over him. The only difference this time was how provocatively she was dressed or more to the point undressed. As she placed his glass on the table her breast firmly rubbed up against his back, her hair dangle on his shoulder lightly touching his face, her hand held his shoulder firmly yet with a gentle loving pressure, these gestures were definitely different than before in their meaning and intent. She returned to the counter, placed her glass down and turning around promptly hopped up on the counter facing Michael. She didn't bother to cross her legs as personal modesty seemed a little silly now. Her legs were open, knees bent, gorgeous calves dangling in front of her; she definitely was at her best. This pose served to reveal her panty-clad sex, accent the flare of her hips, her tampering waist and full breast again she was hot and she knew the effect it was producing, God she was gorgeous. It was at that point that Michael realized that the very nature of his relationship with his mom was in fact changing. Here she was doing all the same things she had historically done but in a vastly different way. Now she was dressed in his jersey, wearing only a pair of white cotton panties, she was touching him, caressing him so much so that if he didn't quit focusing on her, he was going to have another erection to deal with. This was a significantly different turn.
He was her son and yet he felt different toward her. Sure some of the same feelings were there, he loved her but somehow it was different. He had mixed emotions. At some point he began to feel possessive, of course her ecstatic cries of joy and her emphatic statements that she was his, didn't dissuade him from this kind of thinking. If anything it drove him to be more possessive. And yet he knew there were boundaries in place, limits, things he could and could not do. Finally there was his father. He could not forget his father, he actually liked his dad, loved his dad and yet he was now competing with him over the same women, god this was twisted. So much so there was a part of him that was determined not to lose the competition.
"Mom?" Michael's voice was tentative as he spoke. There was an edgy nervousness to his tone. He sounded almost apprehensive.
"Yes," Rachel answered sensing the underlying nervousness in her son's voice.
"Have things changed between us?" he asked, his emotion mixed as he spoke. Part of him didn't want to hear the answer to this question. Part of him wanted things to be as they were and yet his heart wanted more.
"How do you mean?" She said not giving him a direct answer, wanting to see where he was going with this line of questioning.
Things of course had changed and would forever be different between them but just exactly how only these next few moments would tell. Of course she was his mom and as such she took care of him without thought, it was truly selfless. She made his lunch, washed his clothes, sometimes putting them away and frequently she picked up after him so that his father wouldn't be driven mad by the mess he left about. She was his mom, he had never really regarded her differently, not that he deliberately took advantage of her attending to him but the expectation was there, unwritten but there. A social code different from other social codes, she didn't take care of his father in the same way. With his father there was more give and take and less servitude, less obligation to mother. There were times when she certainly held his father to a different standard. Sure she may have loved him but she didn't mother him, far from it. So here is where Michael began to worry and not strictly from a selfish place, he knew he should do more and in fact he would do more, but he didn't want to lose the mother/son relationship he cherished and so dearly loved and appreciated.
They were at a crossroads for sure but the paths they were looking to travel down were not as simple as just going left, right or straight ahead and there was certainly no going back. They had said and done things that made everything different now, she had done things, said things and although she knew they did not fit social norms, she was too deeply affected by them to simply change her mind and pretend they had never happened. That line of thinking was too juvenile, too pedestrian. So he pondered her question, how did he mean exactly?
"I don't know? Have they changed, are we so different now?" he paused not knowing where to go. "Well I know we're still mother and son but we certainly are doing a few non-mother and son things don't you think?"
"Yes we are," she replied. "Michael, are you ok with what's happened between us?"
Rachel turned to face Michael; she knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later she had just thought that it would be a little later than this. For her part she really hadn't put together much in the way of analysing where their relationship was headed. In her heart she knew Michael would go off to school, find a girl, get married, create a life of his own, but in her fantasy, her rapid fire adrenalized sex talk, she was everything from seductress to sex slave and in that there seemed to be no thought of him not being there. She was his, he was hers on whatever level he deemed fit.
