She said nothing.
*
I wouldn’t say I hated myself for it, but I definitely felt ashamed at what I pictured that night as I masturbated myself to sleep. Stepping into the shower with her and offering to wash her back. It was all so innocent, the by-play between us in my mind. So natural that I found myself with her under the flow of water. My hands travelled her body, soaping her ass, her breasts. In my mind her pubic bone was hirsute, my fingers delving between her legs. She took me in her hand and as I wanked myself in bed, it was her that brought me to orgasm. Kissing me. Licking from her fingers the cum she’d extracted. Forcing me downwards to taste her.
As I came upon my stomach I immediately banished the fantasy from my head. So unhealthy I thought. It wasn’t in anyones interest to let this impossibility nurture. It was the real world, not some fiction. Enough with the incest already, I told myself. And deemed to obey.
That lasted a day.
*
She arrived home from work after me which wasn’t usual, certainly not without forewarning and I’d taken it upon myself to prepare a meal for us in the time being. Nothing fancy but she seemed suitably impressed by the aromas in the house when she finally entered the kitchen.
“Something smells yummy, sorry I’m late,” she unnecessarily apologised as she lumped a large plastic bag upon the as yet unset table. “We had that meeting.”
Her demeanour didn’t give anything away as to how it had gone but I was prepared for both good or bad outcomes.
“Yeah, I’ve got you sorted,” I walked to the the bench near to her and gestured to the two bottles of alcohol. “You’ve got the sparkling if it’s good news,” I touched the Napa Valley white before picking up the bottle of bourbon. “And this if it ain’t!”
“Oh you!” She laughed and touched my forearm before removing the large jacket she wore over her uniform. “Actually it’s a bit of each. Probably keep them both at the ready. God you might have to carry me to bed tonight,” she added and I immediately thought of the connotations. Did she as well?
I turned back to my dinner prep to avoid her seeing me blush but she followed me to the stove.
“That smells good,” she acknowledged and lifted the lid on the sauce I’d fashioned, fanning the steam toward herself. I took the opportunity to stir as she held the lid, before I ran my finger over the back of the spoon and went to taste.
“Oh me first,” Mom proposed and drew my hand towards her face. This was a ‘first!’ My hand held at the wrist, she parted her lips and allowed my index finger to enter her mouth, her tongue contacting my skin. The sensation was unlike any I’d known before then as her lips closed around the end of my digit, essentially sucking on the tip of my finger.
Still wearing my work attire, I was aware my business pants wouldn’t hide much and I willed myself to not get hard as I watched her face. Her eyes went from mine to look up to the left as if contemplating before she allowed my finger to leave her mouth.
“Mmm,” she sighed. “Oregano?”
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