"Tea! Liam, I said tea... LIAM! Charlotte stood beside the classic MG sports car, looking into the engine bay. There was no engine there, it was on the work stand and appeared as if it were in the process of being stripped down. Pieces neatly set aside as they had been removed by her son. Framed by the engine bay was her son's thighs and pelvis area, the rest of him hidden beneath the vehicle as he worked upon it.
Suddenly, Liam's head popped out from under, making Charlotte side step out of the way. "OOPss, sorry mum. Hadn't heard you." Charlotte brought herself to his level, one knee on the garage floor, the other raised. She leant forwards and pulled out one of his Air-Pods, hearing the music blaring forth. "No wonder you didn't hear me, this music is far too loud Liam. You will make yourself deaf before you are 23! Please turn it down a little."
"Sure thing mum," he smiled up at her from the garage floor.
"I have brought you a cup of tea, and will be starting to cook dinner now, it is already 5:30, so that gives you another hour approx. That ok, or do you want me to hold off?"
"No that's fine mum. I've been out here all day and in fairness probably had enough. I'll give it another 20 mins, then will come and have a shower."
"OK darling." Charlotte turned and headed back into the house, smiling to herself.
Liam slid beneath his car again. But in truth, had already been working long enough on the classic car. He lay there looking at the underside of the vehicle, but not seeing it.
Liam was a complex young man. Introverted; especially around girls, artistic; but never pleased with anything he produced, so he simply stopped being creative. He had a good group of friends, but would often prefer his own company. He was good at sports, particularly rugby, and had that build, typical of a 'prop'. But didn't like the team interactions. So only played when he had to. He read copiously, often having to finish a tome at the expense of his sleep.
Above all, Liam loved his mother, and missed his father, who had died a few years ago. It could be argued that the lack of his influence, was part of the reason Liam was so now so introverted. But when cultivating personalities, who knows what makes us who we are? One thing Liam was sure of, and seeing Charlotte's knickers and shapely legs, as he looked up her skirt from beneath the vehicle and again as she knelt before him; was that he had an unhealthy interest in his mother's body. He tried to write this off as due to not having had a girlfriend, and therefore still being a virgin at 22. But he knew that was not the case.
A few months after the death of his father; he realised that he was becoming more than a little inquisitive about the shape of his mother's body and what she was wearing, particularly what underwear she was wearing at any given time. Occasionally he would slip into his mother's bedroom and go through her undie's drawer. If he was feeling really adventurous, he would steal a pair of her panties, often pinching a pair of her tights too. On very rare occasions, his little reconnoitre came up trumps and he found his most prized of her possessions, some stockings.
Simply knowing that these items had been in close contact with her skin, at or near those most private of places, Liam found enticing. He had a special hiding place in his room that he stashed his stolen hoard into. And would often get these items out when he played with himself, or simply put them inside his underwear and go to work with them close to his genitals. After completing the act, he would be immediately ashamed or even disgusted with himself and on many an occasion would be close to admitting to his mother what he had done, only to baulk at the last moment.
As he lay beneath the car now, remembering this. He recalled the moment that it all came out into the open, his mother had found his hiding place and confronted him. "LIAM, LIAM, can you come upstairs please, I need to have a word!"
"Ohh ok mum. Coming." Liam climbed the stairs. His brain trying to second guess what he had done wrong this time to get his mum in a lather. She didn't get cross with him often. But when she did let fly, she was generally so emotional, she would often be crying at the same time.
He witnessed the shock and hurt on her face when her entered his bedroom. In her hands was the collection of her knickers, tights and stockings. "And what is this young man? Are these all mine? I thought I was losing knickers in the wash! But what... what have you been doing...? No don't answer that. I don't want to know. Liam I am really disappointed in you. Not just because of what these things are and what they possibly represent to you, but also because you have broken the trust between us. You have stolen these items from me. How do you think this makes me feel? What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Mum, I..." At 22, Liam was still very much a young man. He couldn't tell his mum that he used her panties for self-pleasure. He couldn't tell her that he'd been collecting her underwear for some months. He couldn't tell her that sometimes he would take her garments to work, stuffed in his underpants. What could he tell her? "Mum...I...I," he stumbled with incoherence. "I did try to tell you. I am disgusted with myself for doing this, and I think if I admitted to you that I had done it, well that would have caused a scene like this and I didn't want that. Once I had taken a pair of your knickers, there was no turning back? I couldn't return them in case you had noticed they had gone, then figured it out when you found them."
He looked at his mother, sure enough, tears had started to fall from her eyes. She looked dejected and pained. "But why Liam? And if that were true, well there would be only one pair of my knickers here, but this is a collection! And looking at it, one that has been amassed for a while as I have not seen these knickers in ages. Why steal my underwear and stockings?? Is it, is it some sort of fetish? God tell me you are not passing them around with your friends!?"
"God no mum. I would never do that; they are too spec... that is I mean..." He hung his head. There was nothing he could say that would make things better. So, in typical Liam fashion, he said nothing.
"Well young man. I don't know what to say or what to do. If your father were here, I'm sure he would handle this very differently. For now, my bedroom, and particularly my knicker drawer, is completely out of bounds. If I catch you taking any more of my underwear, well then, I will be sending you down to see the doctor, for you to explain it all to him. Would you like that?"
"No mum. Look, sorry," Liam said. "It was not my intention to upset you, or to break our trust. I wasn't thinking with my head at that time. I promise it won't happen again."
"It had better not Liam. What were you doing with them anyway, wearing them?" Or... no you weren't! Tell me you weren't using them to wa... to play with your..."
"MUM!"
Charlotte could not bring herself to say what she meant, so left it as it was. "Now, sort out this mess of a room. Had it been neat and tidy in the first place..., well let's just leave it at that."
