High Anxiety Ch 01

CHAPTER 1 -- It's Another Friday

"Brandon, you've got this, honey. Okay? See you this afternoon." Ann gave her son Brandon a quick peck on the cheek, causing him to look to be sure no other kids from school saw his mother kissing him and he got out of the car. Ann shivered as the gust of cold winter wind from his departure lingered in the car. She felt the familiar mix of love, worry, and faint wish that she didn't have to drive him every morning. At 18 years old, Brandon was more than old enough for a driver's license or to ride the bus by himself, but Ann's meager salary wouldn't accommodate a second car and well, the bus was not an option with Brandon's...issues. She steered the car back to their small house, feeling a little anticipation for her only day at home alone as she was off from her job at the grocery store Fridays and Saturdays. Every Friday she indulged herself with a little 'self care', as she referred to it in her mind.

Brandon headed into school, his head down and his hands in his pockets against the cold as he navigated towards the "special classrooms" at the school, trying to avoid attention and potential ridicule. He could feel himself start to sweat with nervousness, a trait he inherited from his mother that worsened considerably after the death of his father 8 years earlier. He still relived, vividly, his first torturous encounter with his condition years earlier.

It was the first day of school, and the teacher suggested they go around the room and introduce themselves to one another. As each child spoke and Brandon's turn got closer, he felt a rising panic in his chest. The idea of everyone's attention focused on him was distressing and turning into a full blown panic. Two kids away from him, it overwhelmed him, and he jumped out of his chair, mumbling that he had to go the bathroom. Fight or flight had taken over and flight won as he rushed out of the room in a desperate escape. After he somewhat collected himself, he forced himself to go back to class and sit down, the pressure relieved slightly. The teacher called on him for the introduction and he opened his mouth to speak his name, the words coming out in a trembling voice. Where did that come from? He wanted to die as his voice warbled and sounded like he might start crying. He hated himself at that moment.

Brandon was eventually diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder, to the point where he couldn't function in normal classrooms full of sometimes cruel children. Any situation where attention was focused on him caused severe shut down. He had no close friends, he was held back a year, not because of any defect in his intelligence, just from figuring out a curriculum that would work with his limitations. Hell, he couldn't even order from the waitress on the rare times he would go out to eat with his mother. She had to order for him. His mother was his Godsend. His only close friend, his care giver, his beacon to get him through the hell of his life. Brandon shuffled into his special classroom and started his struggle with his day.

Back home, Ann prepared for her "self care". She pulled her realistic squirting dildo out of its hiding place in her bedroom and put it on the nightstand, then stripped down to her panties, freeing her pendulous breasts as she avoided looking in the mirror at her body she was so insecure about. In truth, her clothes made her look much heavier than she actually was. At 39 years old, she still had a bit of an hourglass figure with a belly and a little cellulite on the back of her thighs. She padded into the kitchen and started her concoction for her squirting dildo. She mixed milk, a cornstarch slurry, a touch of yogurt and a dash of salt in a saucepan on the stove until it thickened. She had tweaked the recipe until she could get as close to actual semen as she could manage, although it lacked the unique texture, flavor and viscosity of the real stuff.

Ann's cum fetish was not something she was proud of and stemmed from her insecurities about her figure. She and her husband, before his death, had a good sex life. After the birth of their son, when Ann's figure wasn't the same, her breasts droopier, her belly fuller, her ass larger, she started to avoid being naked in front of her husband, fearing he wouldn't find her attractive. When they had sex, all she thought about was him not finding her sexy until he demonstrated his attraction to her by reaching climax. Semen became proof of his love and her desirability. She knew it wasn't healthy as her brain became rewired to crave the end result of the act more than the intimacy and pleasure of sex itself. In her mind, semen was love.

When the mixture was warm, she put the saucepan on a hot pad on her nightstand so it stayed warm. She lay on her back and thought about her husband's cock. She ran her hands over her thighs as she pictured his hard length in her hands as she explored, worshipping it. The pre-cum that signaled his arousal beaded out of his slit and in her mind's eye she eagerly smeared the slick fluid around the cock head, then sucked on her fingers, tasting the salty sweet deliciousness of his heat for her.

She rubbed her fingers lightly over the crotch of her cotton panties, feeling already the dampness of her arousal. Her fingers traced over the texture of her thick blush of pubic hair under the thin material, a few strands not constrained by the elastic. She pressed harder against her cleft, moaning as she found her bud and massaged it. As she stroked herself through her panties, she grabbed her dildo, dipping the tip into the saucepan containing her thick white mixture and started greedily licking the head, moaning as she imagined taking her husband's cock into her mouth. The taste wasn't quite right, but it served its purpose, her arousal spiking.

She continued to lick and suck on the dildo, her finger slipping into her panties, finding the hot wet mess of her fluids leaking out of her large inner labia. She gently tugged on her nether lips, then smeared her slickness up to her clit, running circles around it with her fingers. The young widow fantasized about her husband laying on her in a sixty-nine position, licking and playing with her pussy. She sucked on her dildo as she plunged her fingers into her sopping sex. The odor of her arousal permeated the room as the wet sound of her fingers working her cunt were loud in the quiet room. She moved one slick finger down to the light ring of hair that surrounded her asshole and traced her juices lightly over the sensitive wrinkles of her sphincter, imaging her husband getting bold enough to play with her ass with his tongue.

Ann continued to finger herself, achieving an orgasm that made her legs shake as the moans of her climax were muffled from the fake cock in her mouth. She lay there panting softly as she recovered, her panties soaked. She removed them, lifting her large round buttocks up off the bed as she slid them off and brought the dildo down to her pussy, her mons and lips covered in curly black hairs, as she worked the head of the dildo inside of her. She fucked herself hard and fast with it and as she got close to release again, paused to fill a syringe on her nightstand with the warm fake cum in the saucepan. She imagined her husband grunting as they came together, her one hand pressing the syringe plunger down to fill her cunt with the warm fake semen as she climaxed. Still riding her orgasm, she removed the dildo and stuck her fingers into the sopping mess of her pussy, white fluid leaking out of her cunt lips. She brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking the mixture of fluids off them, the salty tang spreading a feeling of love that started in her mind and spread over her body.

Ann lay on her back, naked, her large breasts hanging off either side of her torso and played with the fake cum until she felt that slight but unwelcome feeling of shame start to creep through her mind as she contemplated cleaning up after her Friday morning ritual of self pleasure, thinking she must be a freak to need to concoct an elaborate scenario that included a kitchen mixture to get off properly, instead of what she imagined most "normal" women must do -- a quick and clean release with their fingers or vibrator. She sighed as gathered the saucepan, syringe, and dildo, stopping by the bathroom to throw her panties into the hamper before heading to the kitchen to wash the tools of her masturbatory session.

After getting home from school, Brandon eagerly ditched his mother and slipped into the bathroom, his cock already beginning to stir in his jeans. He pulled down his pants and underwear and sat on the toilet, reaching out to open the lid of the clothes hamper. His nose picked up the light scent of Ann's arousal, trapped in her underwear. He reached out and took them, the cotton of the plain white panties soft on his hand, in contrast to his prick, now hard. His fingers found the crotch of the material still damp and he opened the underwear to stare at the liner, light stains barely marking the cloth. He pressed the panties to his face, inhaling Ann's musky yet clean scent, moaning softly at the erotic naughtiness of the act, his arousal just as strong as the first time he had ever smelled them.

Brandon's Friday ritual had been going on for some time now. He first discovered the panties one day after school when looking for a lost note in the pockets of his dirty jeans in the hamper. The panties were on top of the clothes and his nostrils picked up the strange scent. His first thought was disgust, as he never had sexual thoughts about his mother, but the aroma of her spent arousal called to him in a way he could not categorize nor understand. He watched porn when he masturbated, favoring videos with big breasted full-figured women. His mother certainly had big tits and a large round ass, but her baggy clothes that hid her curves definitely put him in mind of the BBW category, which he was not into.

So, when he picked up the panties to look at them, the odor stronger now, he was surprised as he automatically pulled them to his face and inhaled, his pants growing tight as his cock hardened. The scent was magical, musky, and it lit his blood on fire. He expected maybe a pee smell, but it was nothing like that. When he sniffed the ass of the panties, he was again surprised to find not a hint of poo aroma, just something... earthier, but good. He pulled his cock out and jacked off into the toilet, the panties held to his face as he came hard, pearly semen shooting into the toilet bowl. Immediately afterwards, he felt guilty and disgusted with himself, but a day later, he was back looking for panties. After a week or two he figured out that Friday panties were the ones with the strong scents that drove him crazy, the material still damp and so alluring.

Sitting now on the toilet with the panties to his face, Brandon started licking the crotch, tasting a very faint tang on the cloth, making him moan again. He squeezed glob of lotion into his hand, spit onto his palm and started stroking his cock as he alternated between sniffing and sucking on the panties. His hand moved up and down his length in slow firm strokes, his hand twisting with each up and down motion. The fantasies in his head were of the latest big titty curvaceous porn model he had discovered. He quickly approached climax, and he slowed his strokes even more, savoring the inevitable concentration of pleasure in his cock. As he felt the tingle of the precipice, he brought the panties down in front of his glans and grunted as the first spurt of spunk hit the crotch of the now soaked panties. Five or six eruptions later, spent, he tossed the panties back into the hamper.

Ann noticed Brandon leaving the bathroom, his face a bit flushed and wondered if he was coming down with something. She needed to do laundry before she figured out dinner for she and her son and headed to the bathroom to gather the dirty clothes. As she approached the hamper, she noticed her white cotton panties from earlier hanging out of the lid. Slightly puzzled, she lifted the lid to put them in and carry the clothes to the washer. When she picked them up, she felt wet warmth on her fingers and opened the panties up to find thick pearly fluid all over the crotch of them. Was that...semen? Ann knew her son jerked off, she had encountered crusty tissues and the occasional sock in his room, but using her panties? What in the world? A strange curiosity seized her, a combination of needing to double check along with the stirrings of her fetish and she brought them to her face to sniff them.

Ann's knees almost buckled as the uniquely identifiable scent of spunk flooded her senses, the faint bleach aroma mingling with the musk of her earlier masturbation session. It took her mind back to when her husband was alive and she craved the viscous result of his release with all her heart. She touched the white fluid with two of her fingers, finding it warm and thick. She quickly shut the bathroom door and held the panties to her face again, inhaling the scent as she felt her fresh panties getting wet between her legs. Not thinking about where the cum came from, she rubbed herself through her leggings and licked the crotch of her panties, tasting semen for the first time in eight years.

She moaned into the soiled cotton, hungrily sucking on the cloth stained with jizz, taking her son's load into her mouth. How did she ever think her stupid stovetop concoction could compare to this? The taste was mostly neutral, slightly bitter, but oh so distinct. The viscous texture and the way it stuck to her teeth and gums was like nothing else and transported her to a time when a man loved her. She plunged her fingers into her sopping pussy and brought herself over the edge in record time, perhaps less than two minutes. As she stuffed the wet panties, now clean of Brandon's spunk, back into the hamper, she considered her situation. In no world would she ever be intimate with her son, the very idea striking a note of disgust in her, but she knew she was going to figure out a way to get more of his semen.

Ann hauled the hamper into the kitchen where there was a small closet with a washer and dryer. She loaded the washing machine and considered her now wet panties. Confident Brandon was in his room, she quickly shimmied out of her leggings, removing her panties and tossing them into the wash.

"Mom? Can I make a snack before dinner?"

Ann's face paled and she stood there shocked before quickly moving her hands to cover her triangle of pubic hair as Brandon stood in the kitchen. His eyes got big as he stared, his face turning red. Ann turned her back on him.

"Sorry, Bran. I needed to throw my panties in with the wash. Can you please go to your room for a sec?" As Brandon left the room, Ann slapped her palm to her forehead. "Fuck's sake, Ann. Where's your head?"

Brandon shut the door to his room and collapsed onto his bed, his face still red from embarrassment from seeing his mostly naked mother. The thoughts churning through his mind were...mixed. He had always thought of his mother as not exactly fat, but a BBW for sure with the baggy tops she wore to accommodate her large breasts. Seeing her naked from the waist down dispelled that notion for Brandon as he realized she had an hourglass figure of sexy curves. Yes, she had a bit of a belly, but damn, she was a stacked and craveable 39 year old woman. His cock inside his jeans stirred as he thought about her pubic hair, that dark tangle promising more of the hidden pleasures he had discovered in her dirty panties. And when she turned her back on him, the swell of her hips and those two large globes of soft flesh and long ass crack, marred only by a dimple or two of cellulite awakened something primal in him. He lay there, rubbing his erection through his jeans and thought about fucking his mother.

One of Brandon's fears was never mustering the courage to meet a woman and not being able to ever have a relationship. He hated how dependent he was on his mother, but also loved her dearly as a best friend and caregiver. She had made efforts to both bring him out of his shell as well as be a friend to him, learning to play some video games when he was younger, and taking an interest the fantasy movies and shows he liked to watch. When he discovered online gaming and interacting with other people through keyboard chats, then headphones, she persuaded him to play Dungeons and Dragons online. It was a rough beginning, and he had to have his camera off, but after six months, he could play on camera with the small group of people he now considered friends of a sort. All thanks to his mother. With these thoughts in the back of his head, Brandon started to plan how he was going to get laid...by seducing his mother.