Grace Wilkinson - A family perversion

He shifted off the chair he had just sat on. "Oh, oh. What's a martini without olives?" he asked, striding to the refrigerator. Liz couldn't help admiring the sight of her son's long sinuous legs and the boyish roundness of his ass as he turned his back to Natalie and Liz. But that's a natural observation of a devoted mother, she told herself. After all, she had washed it and powered it years ago and fit it in trousers as it grew. Now, suddenly, it belonged to someone else. A terrible and unreasonable surge of the unfairness of it swept over her. Maybe she was just nervous, Liz abruptly thought, because Tom wasn't home to meet his new daughter-in-law. It would have been easier with him even with his odd detached behavior. Somehow Liz just didn't know what to say or think or feel. In fact, when she felt anything at all, all she could feel was the lonely loss of her son! But why was that a loss? He was right there with her. But he was not with her alone. There was the sex-kitten, Natalie, with her bleach blond hair and her rambunctious liveliness that ought to be charming the older woman. She should be good company. But just then the sex-kitten spoke on a subject that should have been out of bounds for a daughter-in-law, it seemed to Liz.

"Worried about Tom?" the girl asked.

"Mr. Rouelle is working late, I'm afraid," Liz answered coldly. The tone of the young girl's voice had definitely been a prying one. Liz was astounded at such brazenness, but it sort of went with the tight fitting shorts and jersey. The shorts seemed molded to the sensuous vee of her crotch and the gentle curve of her genital area. Everything was clearly evident from beneath the tight press of the cotton pants.

"I'm sorry," Natalie laughed at herself. "I get nudgy when Kevin is away, too. I miss him, but you understand." Natalie gave Liz a warm-eyed smile and drew her chair up closer to her and leaned across the dining room table, which was all set for dinner when the shish kebab would be ready. The young blond ran one of her fingers in an almost conscious gesture across the large smoothly uplifting rise of her tits, finally settling her hand on the curve of her lovely neck.

"Speaking woman to woman," Natalie said with a candid look, "as long as Kevin has been lost looking for the olives, there are ways of satisfying yourself without hurting yourself or your husband, you know."

"I-I don't know what you mean," Liz blurted out, feeling herself blush openly once again. "Tom is a very attentive husband, not unlike Kevin," she heard herself explaining. What an incredible thing to say, she realized after it was out. No wonder the younger girl's jaw dropped.

"Like Kevin?" the blond asked. There seemed to be a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was probably wondering how Kevin's mother would know about her son's sexual life.

"Of course, I really don't know how attentive Kevin is," the flustered mother then said, making matters worse, she could see.

"I am very attentive," Kevin said, reentering the dining room from the kitchen. "It's just that I couldn't find the damn things. Ma, your olives were in the meat drawer. How did that happen?"

How did that happen, she repeated to herself. She probably put them there the last time she had too many martinis waiting for a husband who never did come home that night! But she only smiled at Kevin.

But Liz's mind returned immediately to the intimate conversation that she and Natalie had started on. It had made her feel uncomfortable, but she must remember that the young people today were raised and educated in the school system to talk about things that their parents would not have dreamed of even thinking about! She took a large gulp from the martini in her hand and discovered to her surprise that she had finished all of it. Natalie was one of the liberal young, and though her modernity had irritated Liz, the older woman was frankly quite interested in hearing more. Before she had married Tom, she had given way to her sensual urges by massaging her nipples and touching herself down between her legs, but she had always felt terribly guilty afterwards. She had never heard any other woman openly admit that she had done it, either before or after marriage, and her own problems with Tom and the needs of her body that she had been made acutely aware of for some months now were too great for her to deny Natalie the opportunity to talk more about it. "Kevin, will you put the shish kebab on to broil, dear?" she asked her son, who had just finished plopping three large olives into his glass of martini. "Since there's no room for the martini in your glass," she teased, "Fill mine, and you can take the pitcher with you!"

"Slave driver," was all he said as he filled her glass and his own in between the olives, then left for the kitchen, sipping.

"Doesn't it bother Kevin if you, uh, try to satisfy yourself in-in any other way?" Liz could not keep herself from asking, leaning across the table and whispering.

"No, never," Natalie said brightly. "As a matter of fact, he thinks it's a great way!"

"Well, I'm glad he approves," Liz said weakly, feeling her legs shake with weakness, a strange sensation, as though she would collapse if she were standing up.

After yet another martini and the shish kebab, and even another martini although she knew that three was the absolute limit in any one night. Two was safer even. But tonight it took four to make her feel completely relaxed. By then she was sure she had been needlessly uneasy about Natalie earlier. She was sure that she, his mother, had retained her son's devotion and love, if not his sexual interests. Liz startled herself. Sexual interests? Why in God's name should she be concerned about his sexual interests? No, Liz was feeling a marvelous tingle of warmth and it had to be for the young couple.

She was suddenly ecstatic to think that they were happily married. Perhaps their open show of sensual appetite in the TV room, though inappropriate and inexcusable in Tom and Liz's youth, merely demonstrated the changing times and the fact that they were indeed happy.

They were all sitting in the living room having their after-dinner cocktails. The light was dim and relaxing. Liz was drinking too much, she tried to warn herself, but everything seemed so utterly right and pleasant. Then she could have sworn she heard Natalie say something that was impossible to believe.

"Kevin," the girl's soft voice interrupted a long silence. Liz noticed how pretty her voice was when she wasn't being energetic or giggly. "I think you have an absolutely gorgeous mother with that rich auburn hair that glows sparks of fire in the light. Look where the lamp hits it. You two would make a beautiful couple." What took the edge off the remark for Liz was that her consciousness seemed to travel back in time, and she was not only looking across at Tom over there, Tom, whom Kevin so completely resembled, but the remark seemed to be about her and Tom, though she knew that logically it was her son.

The young man pushed forward in his chair. He, too, had overindulged, first in brandy Alexanders and then in martinis. His hand darted to the plane of his little wife's knee, but his darkened face turned ominously toward his mother. "I can handle two women at once," he chuckled dreamily and sank back in something deeper than an alcoholic daze. "Imagine me, a blond and a redhead, one on each side!" he said. God! Liz thought. Was she hearing him correctly? Surely he didn't mean what he said! Perhaps Natalie had whispered something to him of her mother-in-law's frustrations and questions. She feared that she had allowed her confidence in the young girl to go too far. After all, her sexual frustrations were hardly their concern! How much of her loneliness had she expressed? She couldn't remember! In her preoccupation, she didn't notice Natalie's hand move from the upper part of Kevin's thigh and play over the again slightly rising bulge of his trousers. He had changed from the shorts but still hadn't put on a shirt. Now Liz saw the hand move when it slid again. And she saw too that Natalie had shifted her leg slightly and Kevin's hand slid across the girl's hip. At first, Liz had thought the hand on Kevin's loins might have been a casual slip, but it remained there, and as her eyes became accustomed to staring at it out of her alcoholic haze, she could see the fingers squeezing lightly at the bulge as though to provoke him into further hardness.

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