Special thanks goes to JamieRed one of my favorite authors, for her input, editing and advice. The shortcomings of this story are all mine. Also thanks to my friend of experience, Kris (you know who you are) and RainierWriterII for their inspiration.
Disclaimer: This work of fiction goes slightly beyond the usual fare of mom and son incest. It depicts scenes of simulated non-consensual sex, foul language, spanking and such, as well as anal sex. It also depicts a loving relationship between the characters. If this is not your cup of tea there are plenty of great writers who on this site who may otherwise float your boat. If this titillates you, please read on, vote and send me constructive comments and greetings.
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I followed Marcy around my dad's house. It was still hard for me to think of it as my own. Enthusiastically, Marcy pointed out various features of this house. Dad had it built tastefully to his exact specifications. He built it shortly after he moved to Portland from the East Coast. He and my mom had divorced when I was about fourteen years old.
Marcy periodically pointed out a piece of artwork or a piece of furniture. She discussed how dad had acquired it or what history it had. I of-course, had been to dad's house on numerous occasions. It felt as if I were seeing certain things for the first time. I knew he had some really nice things, but I had no idea how cool or how valuable some of his treasures were.
"This piece is from a famous Chilean artist..."
I couldn't help but notice Marcy's shapely legs and her tight ass as she bent over to pick up a small silver sculpture. I casually made a note to myself that she was one hot piece of tail. She was a petite woman. She had short blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Her breasts were medium sized but perky and full. She rarely wore a bra. Suddenly my reverie was broken when I heard her sniffle. She was crying. I felt guilty for having these thoughts at such a time.
I held her hand and led her to the couch. She buried her head in my shoulder and wept.
"I promised my self I wouldn't do this. I'm sorry Greg."
"Marcy it's alright. This is hard for both of us." I held her and comforted her.
Dad had died three weeks ago, in an accident, while cycling in France. Marcy had been his girlfriend for many years. She had been the manager of his business as well. They never lived together but I knew they were really close. I had also worked for dad over the past year, since I graduated from college. His death was a shock and a sad blow for both of us.
Yesterday, we had both been summoned to dad's lawyer's office for the reading of his last will and testament. I had been pleasantly surprised when I was informed that dad had left me his house, the business and a couple of sweet vehicles. Marcy had received cash and securities equaling in total value what I had received. We were both quite happy with the outcome. Indeed, we were both satisfied with how generous fair my dad had been towards us.
Later, in the evening Marcy and I had shared a quiet dinner at small Italian restaurant. Over a bottle of wine, and a savory meal, we consummated a new business relationship. Marcy had agreed to stay on as manager. She had stated it quite simply, "I have nowhere to go." I was relieved to have her guidance and expertise. I had felt a stirring of my cock when she stroked my cheek and thanked me. She had told me how I reminded her of my dad and how much he had wanted me to succeed.
She had told me that she wanted to personally show me around my new house. I remembered how odd that statement had seemed to me, since I knew my father's house well, from my countless visits there. I had not minded her company. I had just begun to regard her sexually for some reason. Maybe it was the vibe she had been putting out. Maybe it was something about the situation I had found myself in. Regardless, it was nice to have her around during this time. I was also feeling like I had nowhere to go.
My mom had been unreachable. Several weeks prior she had called me and told she was getting a divorce from her second husband. She had also informed me that she needed to get away and would be traveling off the grid in south Asia for a few weeks. I had sent her an e-mail when dad died but had not heard back from her.
We sat on the couch in the living room. I didn't feel like my living room yet. Marcy was regaining her composure. She smiled and tried to apologize again. I told her to think nothing of it. I told her that she could have anything she wanted from the house. She smiled ruefully and said that all these items belong with this house. We both got up to continue the tour. She caught me surprise when she leaned into me and hugged me. Her body felt wonderful. I hoped she didn't notice my arousal. She told me that I was rugged and handsome like my father before me.
I considered my self in good shape. I was an avid rock climber and a skier. There was something about the way she complimented me that just gave me a charge. She was really good for my self-esteem, I mused. I was really happy she was here. She was so self-confident and her enthusiasm was infectious. She was also very sexy.
She led me to dad's wine cellar. Collecting fine wine had been a natural consequence of his line of work. Prior to his divorce from my mom, they had both owned a successful wine and liquor import business. When they had split up, about ten years ago, they also split the business into two separate entities. Mom had run her affairs from Northern Virginia and dad had relocated to Portland. Both businesses had remained very successful and lucrative. After I graduated from college, dad had offered me an entry- level position in the business. I was afforded the opportunity to learn and as well as travel.
Marcy and I spent about an hour exploring dad's excellent collection of wine. Marcy knew her wine well. She gave me a mini seminar on the finer points of collecting and storing wine. Marcy picked a rare French white wine for us to enjoy. We sipped and chatted for about an hour. We both had a bit of a buzz.
Marcy broke the silence, "There is one last area of your house that I'd like to show you."
She moved towards an almost hidden door in the cellar. I had been aware of that door. Behind it, I knew, was a storage area.
"Oh, that's just a storage area, Marcy," I said, "I can go through that later, unless there's something you want from there."
With a smile, Marcy said, "Greg, my dear, there is a lot about your dad that you don't know."
Marcy opened the door. Inside the space were shelves that held various items one would expect to be stowed away: holiday decorations, extra bedding, camping gear, boxes full of who knows what. But there was also a space wide enough to walk through. It ran in front of the shelving. To the casual observer, it appeared to be just a storage space.
"I'm showing this to you, Greg, because sooner or later, you'll stumble upon this. I hope this is not too shocking to you. Regardless, you might as well hear the truth of it. Follow me."
I followed Marcy through the makeshift corridor. It wound around the shelving and resolved into a mirrored room. There was padded sawhorse in the middle of the carpeted floor. There were hooks attached to the ceiling. There was an open chest on floor by the far corner. A tripod with a video camera was standing in another corner and midsized flat panel monitor was attached to the wall next to it. There was a shelf that held several CD's or DVD's on one of the walls.
I was awestruck. I walked in to the room initially unable to wrap my mind around its obvious purpose. In the chest I noticed several handcuffs, some rope, a couple of vibrators, a whip, a riding crop and several other implements that I had no clue as to what purpose they held. The overall purpose of the room was quite apparent.
Marcy was leaning on the sawhorse. Her expression was not one I could readily read. Of-course my mind was racing, trying to absorb all that I have just discovered.
"Did you know about this?" she said with Mona Lisa-like smile.
"No, I can't say that I did." I was really surprised.
"You do know what this room is for?"
"I think I have a pretty good idea," I said hesitantly. I did have a million questions though.
