This is the first erotic story I wrote so it's not perfect but I like it well enough to publish it here. "Finished, not perfect."
I have a lot of projects that are waiting to be "perfect" and may never see the light of day. That being said, I really hope you enjoy this little incest story. Comments (good and bad) are always welcome, as are ratings.
Regardless, I will be uploading Part Two shortly that continues Emma and Noah's story. So, without further ado...
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The house was dark and quiet as I lay on my bed, drawing lazy circles around my clit and kneading my tits, enjoying the slow build up to a satisfying orgasm when I heard Noah's car pull into the driveway.
I stopped and glanced at the clock. It read 9:48 pm.
I froze and listened intently as I heard his keys jangle and he unlocked the front door. A few seconds later the front door closed and I heard Noah walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator and heard the clink of a bottle being removed. The refrigerator door closed.
'What was he doing home?' I thought. It was Noah's senior prom night and he shouldn't have been home this soon. Hell, with all the arrangements I had made for him, he shouldn't have come home until late tomorrow morning.
I lay there, completely naked on my bed, as I listened. After a minute or so I heard him set a bottle on the counter and then I heard him open the trash can and close it. As Noah was walking past my closed bedroom door I called out. "Noah?"
"Yeah, mom." A pause, then. "Goodnight." He said as he kept walking to his bedroom. Even if I had not been his mother, the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. I immediately forgot about my pending orgasm and got off the bed.
Reaching for my terry cloth robe I heard Noah's bedroom door close, wondering what the hell happened to make my baby boy sound so... wounded. I knew he wasn't physically hurt but the hurt in his voice broke my heart.
I slowly opened my bedroom door and looked in the kitchen seeing a half bottle of Corona beer on the counter. Out of curiosity I went to the trash can and opened it. Sitting on top was the strip of half a dozen condoms I had given Noah. They were all there, unused.
It was clear the evening had not gone the way Noah or I had hoped it would. Quietly, I walked to his bedroom. I stood for a few moments listening and all was quiet except for the faint sound of muffled sobbing. Noah was crying into his pillow. I softly knocked on his door twice.
"Noah, honey?" Silence. I can't remember a time when I didn't at least ask for permission to enter his room. Not this time. I opened his door and saw Noah, fully clothed in his brand new suit and face down on his bed.
"Noah." I said sadly as I moved towards him. Noah quickly sat up on the side of his bed looking completely dejected. His eyes were red and had tracks of tears down his face as he sniffled and tried to wipe his face dry.
I sat down close to my son and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. "Honey, what's wrong? What happened?" A look of genuine concern on my face.
Noah tried to speak but he choked off a sob and was silent for a moment as his eyes welled up with fresh tears. His face was the picture of bottomless sorrow. I was rubbing his back, giving him time to compose himself.
"Jennifer left the prom with another guy..." he managed to say before he broke down crying again. I pulled him close and let him sob into my shoulder.
"Shh, shh, shh. It's alright, baby. I'm here. Mommy's here." Noah's crying intensified and I hugged him tighter. Eventually, Noah cried himself out although I continued to embrace him. Softly he said. "Mom, am I gay?" His voice cracked, threatening to bring on another round of tears.
I smiled although he couldn't see me do that. "Why would you think you're gay, baby?" I asked.
Noah lifted his head and looked at me. "Well, I don't know... people at school keep calling me gay. I think even Jennifer thinks I'm gay." He paused. "Maybe I am." He had the saddest face that I could ever remember.
I took his face in both hands and looked intently into his watery eyes. "Noah, honey. Do you think you're gay?" There was uncertainty written on his face as he answered with a quiet "No." Although, it sounded as if he wasn't sure if he had given the right answer. It broke my heart to see such self-doubt in my only child.
Noah has been my everything since I got knocked up at 15 by your garden variety asshole. Life had been hard at times but I always had Noah and he always had me. I have never lost the feeling that it was he and I against the world.
"Listen to me. I know you, Noah, and I can say, without a shadow of doubt, that you are not gay. It would be perfectly fine if you were but, no honey. You're not gay." I held his gaze for a moment and continued.
"But, do you know what I do think?" Noah gave a little shake of his head. "I think you're... a uniquely sensitive boy..." I paused to look my son over. Brushing his hair from his eyes, resting my hand on his broad shoulders and taking in his grown body wearing his fine black suit, colorful tie and matching pocket square, it was clear.
"Sorry, ...young man." Injecting a subtle, sultry tone to the word 'man'. I gave it a moment for my words to sink in before continuing.
"Noah, you know what an empath is, right?" I asked. Noah seemed to be recalling something familiar as I explained.
"An empath is someone with a lot of empathy. Meaning, they are very sensitive to the feelings of others." I explained. I could see Noah was carefully considering what I was saying. I know he knew the the words and their definitions. I was pretty sure what he was considering were the implications for himself. I could always tell when his gears were turning.
"It's kind of rare these days and even rarer among boys... uh, men, in general." I was constantly caressing Noah's face, shoulders and back as I spoke. "A lot of people think, that if someone is sensitive... empathetic, then they must be gay. The way our society is nowadays doesn't help either. And it's even worse in high school."
