We fade in on Dr. Gonzalez sitting in a chair in front of a bookcase. He is reading a book. He holds the book up to show it is "Oedipus Rex" by Sophocles.
Dr. Gonzalez says, "One thing to remember about Oedipus is that he didn't intentionally sleep with his mother. He was horrified to find out Jocasta was his biological mother after he married and had children by her. So much so that he tore his eyes out.
"What of young men who know that a woman is their mother and desire to sleep with them anyway? What of young men who desire to sleep with their mother precisely because they are their mother? Are these young men aroused by the fact they are doing something considered wrong by society at large? And what of the opposite; mothers who desire their sons because they are their sons? What causes familial love to become eros?"
He reaches over and picks up a file folder off a nearby stand. He sets the book on the stand.
"Take the case of Erin, for example. Erin had come to me before while she was grieving the loss of her husband. Two years later, she came back regarding a disturbing development with her son Brad."
We fade out.
* * *
Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor.
My husband? Yes, I still miss him, but you were a big help getting me through that time when he first passed. Thank you, Doctor.
I'm actually here about a problem I've had with my son Brad.
I told you when I first came that he's been a distant boy since he was 10. I wasn't surprised that he was even more quiet and distant after his dad died. The poor boy was only 16. I can't imagine what losing your father that early does to a boy. I tried to do everything I could to talk to him, but he insisted he would be okay. You told me he seemed fine when I brought him to you. That he was just a naturally introverted boy. I don't think you were wrong, but there was something he didn't tell you.
Brad did pretty well in school, in spite of what we went through. He even got into a good college. He should have just started the second semester a few weeks ago, but... Well, let me explain.
I admit, I was really sad to see him leave when he moved to the student housing. It meant I was going to be in that house all alone, until he came back for Christmas and summer. I thought about dating again to keep from getting lonely. I mean, I know 38 isn't too late to starting dating again, is it? You think I still look fine, right? Well, thank you! I don't think I was ready though. I still missed my husband too much to start seeing other men.
I guess this is where my problem started. Not long after he went off to college, I went in to clean out his room. I found something under his bed. It was a pair of my underwear. A pair I figured just went missing in the wash. It was all crusted up.
At first, I was just disgusted and threw them in the garbage. Then I sat on the couch trying to process what I found. I tried thinking of other explanations, but I couldn't avoid the obvious. My son had taken my panties and was masturbating into them. That meant he had to have been thinking about me, right? I kept hoping I was reading it wrong, but I felt I couldn't deny it. My own son was lusting after me.
You know what's worse, Doctor? It excited me! I'd never thought about my own son like that before. But now, thinking about him lying there with my panties and stroking himself. Imagining him moaning for his mommy. Groaning as he came into my underwear. Rubbing his cock on the fabric where my pussy had been. Oh Doctor, I'm so ashamed! It just seemed so exciting to me!
I couldn't stop thinking about it. Was that why he was so distant? Because he wanted me and he was ashamed? I know he had a couple girlfriends. Did he sleep with them and think about me while he did it? Had he ever tried to peak in on me changing or showering? I never caught him if he had. Was he still thinking about me at college? Was he laying in that bed in his dorm and thinking about his mother's body?
Oh Doctor. If Brad only he knew how that night I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about my son's body. I imagined holding him in my arms. Telling him how much Mommy loved him. How I'd always be there for him and I'd always make things right. I imagined him kissing me deeply and taking off my clothes. I started playing with myself and imagined my son kissing me all over and then fucking me. My pussy was getting so wet at the idea. I'm so embarrassed, but I made myself cum so hard imaging being fucked by my own son. I'm such a shameful, awful woman.
It followed me everyday after that. I missed my son so bad and now I was lusting for him. Whenever I called or e-mailed him, things felt so awkward. I kept wanting to confess how I knew, I knew that he wanted his mother's body. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him too. But I could never get up the courage. I should have come back to you then, Doctor. But I was just so ashamed.
Then Christmas vacation rolled around. Brad came home and I think he knew something was wrong with me. Things were more awkward between us than ever before. At times I told myself to sit down and talk with him before this went to far. Other times I thought about going to his room while he was laying down to sleep and getting in with him. I just couldn't do either.
So here's what I did. On the night before Christmas Eve, I decided to change with my bedroom door open. Where the bedroom is, he had a good chance of coming by and seeing me. If he didn't, there would be no loss. If he did, it would be up to him what would happened. I could tell him that he was gone so long that I was used to not shutting my door if I needed to.
When I heard the door to his room down the hall open and footsteps coming my way, I turned my back to the open door. I undid my blouse and threw it in the hamper, then slowly slid down my skirt. I made sure my ass went high in the air. The footsteps seemed to stop behind me. After I threw my skirt in the hamper as well, I hesitated while I adjusted my stockings and panties. I told myself there was no going back and turned around.
