"So Bianca, what do you think, yes or no?"
Regarding sex, I was a liberated woman, up for most things, but what Carla had just told me was shocking. And now she wanted to know if I thought that what she'd suggested was true or not. She must be mistaken, and it wasn't a topic that I wanted to think about, or to continue talking about. I was going to put a stop to this.
With a firm voice, I confidently said, "It's got to be no," and then I gave her a warning, "If you say anymore about it then I'll tell Alison."
I thought that my last remark would irritate her, perhaps even make her angry, but she just shrugged her shoulders and then she changed the subject. She wasn't offended. She'd said her piece, and if I didn't believe her then that was my problem.
However, three days later, to my surprise, I'd changed my mind. After we'd talked, every time I saw Alison and Brad together, I was now more observant, and I noticed things that I'd probably missed before. And none of them were subtle.
It's not unusual for a Mother and Son to hold hands, but they were doing it a lot, at almost every opportunity. And sometimes, when they looked at each other, it was in a way that only lovers do. Once, they were even standing so close together that I thought they were going to kiss. I felt such a fool, why hadn't I noticed all of that before?
When I spoke to Carla about it she didn't say, "I told you so," but she didn't need to, her smug expression said it all.
"You need to tell her. It will be better coming from you."
I didn't want to, but Carla was right. She would be more direct, whereas, I would be more careful with my words. It was a delicate subject that needed to be dealt with by using tact and diplomacy. I could do that, but Carla would find that difficult. She would rush in, like a bull in a china shop, and that would be a disaster.
The next day I got some time with her alone. That was my opportunity, so after taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I went for it. After ten minutes of preamble I eventually got to the point. Even then, I didn't say it, I just hinted at it. I was now waiting for Alison's response. When I got it, it wasn't what I expected.
First she laughed, long and hard, and then, with hands on hips, she said, "Yes, I am fucking my Son. Do you have a problem with it?"
I did, but I shook my head, and then I averted my eyes.
While looking down at the floor, I said, "It's just that you need to be careful. Other people are going to put two and two together and also come up with four."
When I looked up, her face was now serious. She was thinking about what I'd just said. Then she surprised me again, this time by giving me a big hug.
"Thanks for the advice. You're a good friend. I'll have a word with Brad. From now on we will be very discreet."
And they were, to such an extent, that even Sherlock Holmes, after carefully scrutinising them, would have to declare that they were only in a normal Mother and Son relationship. However, Carla and myself knew differently, that behind closed doors they were fucking like crazy!
And that should have been the end of it. We'd all carry on as if nothing had happened, and it would never be spoken of again. As far as the others were concerned, that was true, but not for me. I started to think about Alison and Brad.
They were Mother and Son, did that make the sex special? They were tasting forbidden fruit, and isn't that the sweetest? I was beginning to feel that I was missing out, that they were enjoying something that I could never have.
At first, it was mild curiosity, but it soon became obsessive. After only a few days I was imagining them fucking. Brad thrusting his cock deep into her from behind. I tried to stop, to get them out of my mind, but it was difficult. At one point it became so bad that I was considering talking to Carla about it. I didn't though, because she would find it funny. The last thing that I wanted was for her to laugh at me.
Then unexpectedly it ended, but only because something else had taken its place. Something that was even worse!
That fateful day was a Tuesday. At first, it was like any other day at our Massage Parlour. However, that changed when Greg entered my room. He was a new client, and when I saw him I did a double take.
He was a handsome man with a confident demeanour. A man that most women would find attractive. I certainly did. But that wasn't what had got my attention. To my surprise, I'd suddenly found myself looking at a man who could be the twin of Tom, my elder Brother. There were differences, but not many. The obvious ones were that he was slightly taller, with a larger nose, but the likeness was still uncanny.
"Do I know you?"
He'd noticed my reaction to him.
"No, but you do look a lot like my Brother."
With a nice smile, and while making eye contact, he said something that took me by surprise.
"If you want I can be him."
I could feel my face redden. I wasn't a naive teenager, I was a thirty eight year old woman who worked in a Massage Parlour, and just a few words from him had managed to make me blush!
He was a gentleman so he pretended not to notice, but for several seconds there was an awkward silence between us. Then he spoke.
"Alison tells me that you do a good massage."
I nodded, and then with my composure restored, I said, "No, not a good massage, a GREAT one."
He laughed, and I joined in.
It didn't take him long to undress, and as soon as he was face down on the table I covered his bottom with a towel. We both knew that this was going to be more than just a massage, that eventually we would fuck, but first he would get that great massage that I'd promised him.
I started on his shoulders, they were broad like Tom's. I pressed down hard, and he sighed.
"What's your Brother called?"
I hesitated, but then I told him. He was just, like a lot of the men do, making conversation, but I would prefer to keep Tom out of it..
After doing his shoulders I concentrated on his back. I spent ten minutes pummelling it, and then I moved down to his legs.
"I have a Sister."
I didn't say anything, I just waited for him to say more. And I knew that there would be more, as soon as he'd plucked up the courage to say it. It took him a while before he was ready.
"I'd like to massage her."
A casual observer would take what he'd said at face value, but I knew what he really meant. He didn't want to massage her, he wanted to fuck her!
"Can I massage you?"
That got a quick OK from me.
Whenever a client wants to do that I always say yes. Most are quite good at it, and I enjoy the attention that I get from them.
"And please will you pretend to be her? If you don't want to, then that's OK."
I could hear the longing in his voice. This was something that was important to him. He was desperate to do it, but role-playing is not my thing. However, he'd said please, and he wasn't pressurising me, so I found myself saying yes.