Grace Wilkinson - A family perversion

Liz sat up rigidly in the bed. "Don't," she ordered vaguely. "I'm… I'm going to have to do a lot of thinking."

She stood up from the bed and reached down for her panties on the rug. She couldn't understand how he could be so lackadaisical after what he had done just now to his own mother, but she vowed to herself that she would try not to show any signs of remorse for him to gloat over. She was, for the first time in his life, suspicious of this man who was her son. Perhaps it was because she had always thought of him as her son and not as a man standing on his own feet and having his own separate life. She had raised him in a way which he had clearly betrayed. She pulled the soft flimsy nylon up over her smoothly tapering legs and stretched the elastic waistband so it fit neatly over her small trim waist, then turned to Kevin again.

"It must be about lunch time. Perhaps we ought to eat before there are any further complications." She continued to dress.

Kevin yawned and stretched the full length of his body on the bed, propping his young twenty year old head on the pillow behind. He did not seem about to get dressed. Well, Liz thought, she would close the door on the room when she left just in case Tom came home. Regardless of what Tom had done himself, Liz didn't feel up to facing a complicated situation right away. As it was, a cold shiver of personal revulsion raced down the length of her spine when she remembered that she had permitted Kevin to make love to her and that she had actually enjoyed it. Slipping finally into her dress, she turned from the bed and walked to the door leading out of the bedroom while still struggling to zipper herself up the back.

Between her encounter with her son and the following Saturday, Liz earnestly tried to interest Tom in coming home early from work, from dropping his poker game on Thursday night as well as avoiding the out-of-town conference on the weekend. She tried to make her entreaties sound sexy, but Liz was sadly ignorant of exactly how to do that sort of thing. It might have been wiser to make a direct approach, to tell her husband exactly what she had in mind, which was, in fact, to experiment with her new sexual expertise. But how do you tell your husband that suddenly you have awakened to his way of life without explaining how this miracle so suddenly occurred? Liz Rouelle was so afraid that she would be backed into a corner with unanswerable questions by her husband, that she was too timid to even get answers out of him when she spoke, never mind win his interest.

Her failure with her husband was not particularly good for Liz's self-confidence or her self-assurance. Had what she done been the end of everything? Was she so evil that the very forces of the universe itself had turned against her, estranging her for all time from her husband? She was certainly having a lot of trouble getting his attention, never mind holding it. Perhaps after all, she needed time to think and sort the disorder of facts and feelings floating around now in her brain. She began looking forward to his weekend absence. The emptiness of the house would give her opportunity to really think things through without the interruption of any little chores.

And Saturday began that way. There was an air of contentment in the empty house that had not been there for a long time. She actually felt light hearted, and instead of sitting down and thinking things through the way she had planned, she decided that as long as she felt so good, she might as well do the things she felt like doing and save the thinking for later. She did a little reading in the morning, and in the late morning took a drive to the beach, rolling lazily along the shore road and stopping for a hot dog for lunch. She found herself interested in the people she saw as well as in what they were doing. Ordinarily she paid no attention to that sort of thing, always having been more or less wrapped up in whatever she herself was doing or thinking. It was very strange for her to find herself so objective.

On the way home, the question occurred to her whether her sexual satisfaction could have anything to do with the clear headedness of the day. But, no, it had been several days since her affair with her son. It couldn't be that. Or could it?

It seemed as though she had no sooner got in the door and was thinking of mixing herself some kind of drink when the telephone rang.

"Hi, Ma," her son said at the other end of the line.

"Hi," she answered carefully. "How is the new place working out?"

"It's really great. We're having a party to celebrate moving in tonight. Hope you're planning to come."

"Party? Well, I don't think so. Your father is away at a conference…"

"Oh, Ma, come off it. You know better than that," Kevin said softly. "My father is going to be right here. I'm the one who is supposed to be out of town, but I just planned that excuse."

"Planned an excuse? Oh, Kevin," his mother scolded. "Is that any way to treat your wife!" She was, of course, thinking of the way Tom treated her.

"I just wanted to see if Pa showed up in my place," Kevin said lightly and bluntly. "I'm sure he will, and I was hoping you'd invite me home for dinner and a drink so that we could come to the party a little later ourselves and see what we run into."

"Well, you're always welcome here for dinner and a drink," his mother told him automatically, before thinking that things were not quite the same as they used to be. He was still her son, but he was something else, too, now. He was a kind of danger among other things.

"Thanks, Ma," he said quickly, before she could hedge. "I'll be over by six, is that okay?" He spoke forcefully, even with his question, so that she could do nothing other than agree. "Well, I… uh… okay, but…"

He had hung up.

Liz didn't really mean to go to any trouble. Yet she made a curried beef dinner that took her two hours to prepare. It would have been so simple to just throw on a couple of steaks, yet she was in the mood, she told herself, to do something special, something Kevin really liked. After all, he had showed her something she had not known about life before, the pleasure and satisfaction possible for her own body. How she wished that Tom would try to make love to her again so she could show him how she had changed. Well, it would happen in time. She was sure of that. Meanwhile, she had to be wary of her son but not ungrateful to him. So she made a lovely dinner, and after laying out the table and putting the curried beef on to simmer, she took a fast hot shower and chose her dress for the evening. It was almost six by the time she was dressing. The beef had been simmering a half hour, she figured to herself. That meant dinner about seven, which left an hour for cocktails. Well, this was going to be quite an evening. But why was she dressing up? She did not really intend to go to the party. Still, she was in such a good mood, and she had made such a beautiful dinner, that she might as well complete the evening by dressing. If Kevin had changed his mind about going home for his party, then he would be dressed, too.

She pulled on the white sleeveless form-fitting sheath that she had chosen for the evening and quickly surveyed herself in the bedroom mirror. It was too bad Tom could not see her, she decided. She had never looked more beautiful. She felt it. She felt both beautiful in a modest way and desirable in a not so modest way. She laughed for her own ears aloud. Her voice tinkled like a delicate bell. Goodness!

Her trim smoothly tapering legs flowed down from lushly curving hips as she turned in the mirror. She admired her firm uplifting tits that stood out just perfectly beneath the tightly pressing white material. She got her brush from the dresser and began brushing his rich auburn hair in the mirror. How beautifully it shone with its red highlights against the pure white of the dress. Good God, she suddenly thought. What was the matter with her all of a sudden? But she had no time to worry about it. Before she had time to slip into her shoes, the front door opened and she heard her son the length of the hall.