“Oh.”
“Who does she love most…?”
“Herself?”
“Terence, if we’re going to work out the scenario properly, then stop coming out with silly comments — and stop standing there like that, looming over me; pull up that chair and sit beside me and we can both look at the pictures properly for inspiration.”
I pulled up a chair beside her and we both sat silently looking at the pictures for a while.
Mother, speaking slowly said, “She loves her son, they see each other day after day and she aware that he has sexual feelings for her.”
“And she gets turned on by him.”
“Yes, if you must put it that way.”
“What way would you put it?”
“He’s deeply in love with her and she responds to this love; she has…er…tender feelings for him, she wants to give herself to him but doesn’t know how.”
“What about him?”
“Well of course she’s the maturer of the two and he hasn’t had much sexual experience.”
“That’s not true,” I started to protest; then suddenly realising I was giving myself away I changed to, “He’s had some sexual experience.”
“A little, yes, but the mother realises that although he’s absolutely infatuated with her he’s never going to make a move.”
“No, well, he wouldn’t would he; I mean, incest, the way people talk about it and the way it’s presented in the media its made to sound worse than rape or murder by slow torture.”
Mother sighed and said, “Yes, even when it’s between consenting adults.”
“So they’re never going to get together?”
“Well if the pictures are to be believed, yes they do get together, but how…how…”
“That’s what we’re supposed to be working out.”
“I know;” mother paused for a moment then said enthusiastically, “I’ve got it. In the middle of the night the boy finds his mother looking at some lovely incest pictures on the computer and…”
“Like us tonight?”
“Yes…yes…just like tonight. They talk about it and…”
“Like we have.”
“Terence, if you don’t stop interrupting I won’t go on.”
“Sorry…sorry.”
“By talking about the pictures they’re both made completely aware of how the other is feeling. The boy starts to get and erection and…”
“Like m….sorry…sorry…won’t interrupt again.”
“She can see he’s absolutely out of his mind wanting her, and she starts to get horn…worked up her self. She’s got to have him and she becomes reckless.”
“She says ‘Fuck me…for God’s sake fuck me,'” I interjected.
“No she does not; she’s too delicate for anything as crude as that; she a sensitive woman. You can see that just looking at the picture.”
We both looked at the first picture. Certainly the woman did give the impression of gentle sensitivity.
“So what happens?”
“Well, she has to be sure that he won’t be repelled if she offers herself to him, so she kisses him; not passionately, just very gently, but making sure her lips are moist.
Mother ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and said, “Just lean forward a bit…towards me, that’s right. She kisses him like this.”
Mother touch my lips with hers They felt warm and moist and I could have sworn that she ran the tip of her tongue over my lips. My erection that had started some time before began to throb eagerly.