This is a story containing non-consensual incest between an adult mother and her son. No characters in any of my stories are underage and all are clearly over eighteen, written as such.
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Hypnotising His Grandmother
Part Two
Greta bit her lip, the road before her car in the increasingly late-afternoon sunshine less and less appealing. It seemed to want her to turn back but something about her was not right, tingling with anxious heat, prickling energy thrumming up inside her that did not even want to be contained. As much as she squirmed and wriggled and shifted her weight in a dress and heels that she had not worn in years (they were not quite suitable for the hospital but there was very little in her non-house wardrobe that would not have been somewhat suitable for those premises).
What was wrong with her? She didn't understand, could not understand, but it was not necessary that she understood either. There was a big, black span in her mind from the time that her grandson had appeared in her house that afternoon and, from then on, things had been dark. It was not something that she felt intrinsically worried about, per se, but it was a little disconcerting, to say the least, to not remember something like that. Maybe she was just worried about the patient at the hospital waiting for her or maybe it was that she was indeed forgetting a few things in her older age?
Greta frowned. Old age - hah! She wasn't quite there yet!
Her body seemed to agree with her on that count, something shifting on her thighs, a frown pulling down at her lips. What was wrong there? That wasn't something that she'd felt in years but, sure enough, her shaft rose, throbbing, filling with blood, harder and harder the more she tried to ignore it. Nothing she did or thought about softened it in the slightest as her car moved into the city and to her hospital, which, thankfully, was not smack bang in the centre, her rate of breath increasing slightly as she tried not to think too much about it.
Ignore it... It'll go away, you'll see.
Only, it didn't go away, her confusion mounting right along with her frustration. Need flourished within her, hot and spreading, something that could not be contained. It had never been something that was supposed to be contained by the human body, a form that was designed to reproduce as much as it was intelligent with the larger brains, more highly functioning than so many other species. Yet even that intelligence could be overruled by instinct and the demand of such a body when push came to shove.
It was time for Greta to be pushed.
She panted, not able to catch her breath, even though she did not quite feel that it was cause for concern either. She tried not to worry about too much in her life but she was, at least, thankful for the fact that traffic was light that weekend afternoon. Maybe everyone was out in the countryside, enjoying the good weather, or maybe they were preparing to head out for a night on the town, even having dinner with both friends and family. Yet it was her duty to be there as the on-call doctor, the one who had the knowledge to be brought in on short notice to help the needs of their patients.
It was usually something that she enjoyed doing, the fact that she was needed still settling to her mind while her job was well and truly secure. Yet her shaft throbbing took all of that from her mind as she swallowed hard, licking her lips, no amount of little sensation able to take her mind away from the main event, what sought to so very desperately dominate every last corner of her psyche above all else.
It hadn't pulsed like that in years, its desperation evident. Pulling into the hospital car park, her hand drifted to it and was yanked away a moment later as if she'd been burned, fingers twitching, tapping against her thumb in quick succession: one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. She couldn't touch it, not there, couldn't do anything about it, finally realising that she was not even wearing the underwear that hid it and whimpering out loud.
"What am I going to do?"
As much as she was needed, she could not help herself, racing into the hospital with her bag in hand, hair tugging itself free from her tight braid. She had to get through, had to work her way through, had to get to her medicine before it was too late! Her shaft ached, demanding her attention, but she could not even stop for her colleagues and those she supervised in the still-busy hallways as she raced to her office with all the haste she had at her heels.
Her high heels, not tall enough to stand out but enough for her, clacked anxiously as she whipped around the door, slamming it closed behind her. Yet there was not even time for her to lean against it and catch her breath, the call still needing to be answered, though she was not even sure what call that was. Whereas her expertise was needed at the hospital, it was not dire and she had time to take a breather for herself, something that was sorely needed as she locked the door with a shaky hand.
"Oh heavens..."
Her cock pressed up to the door, leaving a wet spot on her dress, and she blushed furiously, searing hot patches creeping down her neck and across her chest. It was a need that could not be helped and she took some medicine measuring cups out of her desk drawer, something that had been rattling around in there for a good, long time but that she had not paid her due attention to before. Perhaps that was to her misgiving misguidance, her brain foggy, her cock all of a sudden in her hand and her dress hiked up. Greta moaned out softly, one hand spread flat on the desk with space between her wrinkled, aged fingers. When had that happened? Not the ageing, of course, but her cock getting out and hard like that? And why was it so hard all of a sudden?
It didn't matter though, nothing mattered, not while her need was so high. She wouldn't be able to focus on work if her needs were not relieved, after all, it was what she had to do. Justifying it to herself may have been one way in which she gave herself permission but it was all by the by as she moaned out loud, rocking her hips, the desk chair squeaking under her, a special one that she'd ordered for her comfort. It was not the best for masturbation, however, as she tried to brace her heels into the floor, the wheels rocking her back and forth as if she just could not stay in one place for too long, need fluctuating and pumping up all the more.
It wasn't going anywhere in a hurry but her mind was apt to drift, thinking of someone, the figure of a strong, fit male body taking form in her mind. She licked her lips and moaned out loud, though she did not know who the body belonged to. Was it some model that had been on TV lately or a movie star? It was hard to say but there was a dark cap of black hair, trimmed short around the young man's ears, a modern man who knew how to take care of himself and of "his woman" too.
Yes, that was what she needed, someone to take care of her. No one had taken care of her for so many years that Greta doubted that, honestly, she needed anyone to look after her anymore, though it would have been nice anyway. A kind word and a gentle touch and, of course, sexual attention too went a long way and even she needed that, as much as she pretended not to need it. She was not as harsh inside as she came off on the outside but, well, people had formed their opinions of her long ago and she had many of her own that may or may not have been said.
But the man in her mind's eye was not someone that she'd seen on TV, relaxing of an evening, but her very own grandson, David! She jerked to attention, flushing heavily for all the wrong reasons, the rush of emotion bringing a prickle of tears to the corners of her eyes. She wasn't upset but such bodily reactions could not be helped as she tried to backtrack as swiftly as she could, shaking her head, turning her mind from him.
