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For the reader: Currently only 2 chapters in this, but more could follow.

Anna didn’t have any special plans for her birthday. She was a teaching substitute and celebrated her summer holidays with her son Malcolm. As most mothers were considered within the holy trinity of youth to be major sources of irritation, this did not bode well for 19 year old Malcolm one bit.

For a start, she was the kind of vibrant mother who liked to interfere at every opportunity, often acting like a teenager herself. If anything, she was more of a kid than he was, like something out of 5th grade. She was a tiny thing too, about 5’1, compared to his 6’0. Malcolm was a nerd but he was considered a bit of a hunk by a lot of girls and mums. Even his French teacher, Lucille, strayed off a few notes when speaking in her native tongue during class if her eye ever wandered to close to his. He had some sort of eclipse effort on women. His mother, who was very playful, was a different beast altogether.

‘You’re kind of like Sally.’ He told Anna.

‘Why is that?’ Mum mused doing the crawly spider at the back of Malcolm’s thick sensitive neck with her spindly pixie fingers. He could feel her nails against the fibres of his hair and it always made him lurch back. But her fingers were really cute and small; about twice as small as his. He had seen her barely get her hands around a cucumber or a hotdog, but she really knew how to cling on.

‘Well… Sally has got short brunette hair that falls down just below her chin just like you.’ He explained.

Malcolm was a bright boy, always good with detail and eye contact. She liked that quality in him because sometimes she could see his dead father in him. Nathan’s eyes were nothing special, but the way he would use them was; Malcolm made Anna feel the same way. If he was in the mood they would plant themselves down adjacent to one another and stare until someone blinked. It was a fun and silly game but Anna had to admit a little intimate as well because Malcolm wouldn’t play it with anyone else. She thought that was sweet of him; to have such exclusive a connection.

‘How else is Sally like me?’ She badgered.

‘Well ok she’s much taller, but has the same cheeky smile, same white perky blouse with first two top buttons undone.’ He went on. ‘I would love to see her standing over you.’ He added.

‘I bet you would!’ She said giving the air in front of his face a playful bite

Anna dipped her face low and tilted it in a two ‘o’ clock position in front of her son. She was decidedly frisky today. Probably as a result of that tub of ice cream she had for breakfast – that always topped up her hormones. Unfortunately, her son was going to suffer the consequences. It was double bad news as she was normally quite the active tomboy. Whenever the opportunity to physically harass Malcolm presented itself she would make the most of it. Holding back wasn’t in her vocabulary. If he was to run into her along a corridor or enclosed space, he would just wait for the slap on the ass, the collision of hips; all what she called buddy taps. She always said it after a bum slap. She liked those. If his back was turned to her, he would never fail to get one. At the tail end of the slap her nails would often trail along his ass. If he called her a pervert she would just say something like ‘maybe’ – it wouldn’t stop her. In fact highlighting an annoyance would only heighten it. Make her slap his ass and then leave her hand on his ass for a while as she was talking to him about one thing or another.

She looked at his dimensions; he was much wider than her and she sensed his awesome power by stroking the biceps of an arm pitched like a tent rod behind him.

‘My, you are a stud!’ She professed excitedly.

He groaned. Malcolm especially disliked compliments from his mum. What exactly was he supposed to do with them anyway? It’s not like being nice to his mother was cool. He understood she was trying to be his buddy and she looked young and wore a school uniform of sorts; her own preference, but it was basically, a tight white blouse, a micro skirt and small white transparent ankle socks made of nylon. The micro skirt was daring, but he let himself ignore it for as long as he could. It simply rode right up to top of her smooth dolphin-backed thighs. Don’t look! He warned his eyes. It’s not like he would turn to stone if he did, but something else might sure as hell happen that would be inconvenient for the both of them.

Stuff it!

They were his mother’s legs but he just had to have a browse. There was so much of it from ankle to upper thigh it was exquisitely laid out before him, almost as if she was selling herself. She did it deliberately, just to show she was young and fertile and easy. He really hated trying to second guess her.. He did once force himself to experiment; to look at her legs for more than a second. What he learned was that they were smooth like Sally’s but more sleek and creamy looking, and telepathically Casibom inviting his hands to give them a good grope. He had that groping inclination usually on public transport if he saw a passenger with the kind of tits, ass or leg that had imaginary text written over them saying ‘squeeze me’. Fortunately, he was lucky that even complete strangers were happy to present themselves to him if he ever wanted a good public grope session. He’d rubbed his bulge against one married pregnant woman on a train carriage once and she felt his dick alright but didn’t say anything. She just stood holding onto a pole and reading her chick flick trying to act normal. That went on for 12 stops. He remembered thinking that was better than having sex.

He wondered if anyone had ever groped his mother on a train. She had a nice body for a pixie, and she loved showing it off. As her son was her main audience he got to see a lot of flesh without getting to see the bits he didn’t want to; like the tits, pussy and ass. Even the cleavage (and she had deep cleavage) was too much visually. But when he was cornered with no escape, like now, then he was almost forced to face his fears.

Looking up and down her limbs he felt something tugging the back of his brain as if a hook was connected to a string in her hand. He had seen female artwork in comics that resembled his mums finely angled vertical slopes. Her thighs especially were out of bounds in his mind. He did not want to think such words like ‘hot’ and ‘amazing’ in the context of his mother but it was hard not to.

‘So, what makes me different from Sally?’ Mum asked assuming a monks meditative position.

‘Look, is this about the cake? I’ll buy you a cake, just leave me alone.’ He said disgruntled; partially feeling the taste of silver and liquid lust in his saliva. Normally such a taste only developed when he was looking at porn; not the kind of thing he would want to associate his mother with. It was very specifically clear that the two mediums had to be separated at all times; there was no way could mix without igniting.

‘No, I don’t want a cake,’ she began. ‘I just want you baby.’ She purred. Her eyes fluttering like a lovesick girl. She knew she was winding him up. The tactics never failed to work. Flirting was an old trick integrated into her armoury long ago. She knew which buttons to push but preferred to push the ones he did not want her to. She knew it was not motherly like to tease her son so much or to gain any pleasure from it but she just couldn’t help herself.

‘Ok, I’m all yours.’ He announced prodding her nose with his finger. She still looked pretty with a squashed nose. Her eyes were as wild as ice that not even fire could melt and untameable as the eye of Jupiter, but he knew how to weather her gathering storm.

Today he woke up ready for battle. Nothing his mother tried would work, so she had to break new ground to stand a chance to defeat him. The number of times he had just folded under her flirtatious advances, just so she would quit, he had lost count. She was a performer and especially enjoyed humiliating him in front of his buddies.

The bed creaked as she closed the gap between them. Malcolm laughed and mimicked her action bringing them even closer still. ‘So, how am I different from Sally?’ She asked again.

‘Well you sometimes leave your ankle socks on my bed.’ He humoured. It was something she did often for fun, she knew he hated her tiny stretchy socks. She just wanted to know why.

‘What? These?’ She said uncrossing her legs and resting one leg on his lap. Her feet were very pointy and curved and arched like a ballerina. It was not her normal stance but she had very fidgety feet and could be seen twirling them while lying on a sofa or her bed, or flexing them forwards so that they were pointing ahead. Malcolm stroked his mother’s insanely smooth calf all the way to the hem of the ankle sock. His mother never once removed her stare, but smiled approvingly as he pulled the sock off by tugging at it from the toe end. He sniffed the motherly scented sock and Anna purred encouragingly. She really loved to play he thought to himself and she only ever wanted to play with him. Any kind of game would do, just as long as it meant she could spend time with him. Being in the house all day got really lonely on weekends and he was always the highlight.

‘How long can you keep this up mum?’ He asked.

She really was getting under his skin; winning the war. At least in this one he knew where the WMD’s were located; inside his balls. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but his thoughts were becoming more and more off the beaten track. It looked like she had radiated some kind of mental scrambling technique to break off the signals that connected together to produce thoughts of any sense.

‘What do you mean stud?’ She lied, pretending to not have the foggiest idea of what he was implying. She could do this all day. It was after all her birthday and he was sweeter than Casibom Giriş any cake though she would confess she had not taken a bite out of, she reasoned that you could not get anything unless you asked first.

Malcolm gave her a playful slap. She accepted it and straightened her face; kept her stupid smile. Her teeth were nice and when they opened to reveal her pink tongue he thought he had seen it all. She poked it out at him. It was remarkably long as she demonstrated by licking the top of her nose then unfolding it so it ran an inch low beyond her chin. The sloppy ‘slishy’ sounds her mouth made whenever it opened, and her tongue created as it slid around inside, was very noisy; sticky, slimy sounds and one of her worst habits. She loved to make them near his ears because it was like torture to him.

‘You know, mummy can do a lot of things with her tongue.’ She said with a baby voice.

He slapped her again.

‘Oooo! Someone’s getting upset.’ She sensed.

‘No way!’ He snapped.

‘Why are you afraid to slap me properly?’ She said offering one side of her face.

Malcolm chose not to reply. They sat there in his room as the light appeared to dim. The sky outside was becoming grey. His mother looked on amused as he stroked the full length of her leg from the knee down. She responded to his touch by making an arc with the front of her foot so his hands could stop there. It was like a new pet of sorts; his mother’s ‘smooth as hell’ leg. Maybe if he stroked it enough her mood would become dry and she would pack it in for the day.

It was a Saturday and he had a lot of games to play on his console. If she ever threw out his console then he would show her a true slap he thought. No one messes with a guy’s consoles, not even a mother.

As he stroked her leg again, the sound of his fingers running along her hairless flesh was similarly like cloth wiping chalk off a blackboard, or like used sandpaper.

She seemed quite receptive and amused that Malcolm had finally shown some interest in her. His hands were rough like her late husbands and they were big. She liked her son’s rough hands better though; they seemed to hold her leg with an authority her late husband never showed. It was a nice birthday gift from her son even though he did not know it.

She had applied the hair removing creams a day earlier. But not on her pussy; that was kept hairy. It was quite a bush but its not something she ever considered. Nathan used to shave her thatch when he was around, because he grew up in a family of women and they all had bald tacos. Sometimes they sat on the bathroom floor together, their robes open, just chatting away; shaving they’re pussies together, like it was normal behaviour. They actually liked their brother to watch them because he was, with his father, in the minority, in a house that had one mother and 6 sisters.

Malcolm looked beyond her knee and gave her the crawly spider. Anna laughed and returned the favour; she gave him the wiggly worm at the back of his neck.

The crawly spider scurried up Anna’s thigh reaching the hem of her skirt. ‘Open sesame.’ It requested tapping one of its legs like a ticker.

Anna obeyed and lifted up her skirt a few inches so the spider could crawl inside. It was dark and foreboding but his fingers were brave. Her actions were submissive and that was all the permission he needed. He ventured in and then she shut the doors like that, pressing his hand into her thigh.

‘Naughty naughty spider!’ She said in her baby voice.

Anna loved her role play just as much as her son. They were quite competitive but she didn’t like to lose, and always tried to prove she was the better player which invariably she was. Whatever her mind could cook up was game.

In fairness to her son, she expected him to give up when she placed her left leg on his lap, but here he was, defying all the odds and making her jump from known territory to unknown improvisational strategy. .

Malcolm had a strong grip on her ankle; he lifted up her foot towards his mouth and sniffed it.


‘Nice one!’ She said giving him a high five. He was really trying to stay toe to toe with her, even though he was a SUV and she was a monster truck. It was another unexpected reply to her flirting strategy. She brushed her fingers along her son’s cheeks like a mother that was proud.


The scent that radiated from her was thick with motherly odour and made his brows leap. The sensation of her whiff drifting inside his nostrils was becoming. Her motherly odour permeated from every pore of her body and upon a second, deeper inhalation, she ran her fingers through the front of his hair.

‘I don’t really like this Sally.’ She told him.

‘She’s just a friend.’ He replied.

‘Why don’t I believe anything you say?’

They stared into each others eyes as he sniffed her toes. She poked her big toe against his lips and he clamped it down Casibom Güncel Giriş gently with his teeth. He was such a sweet boy. She liked the feel of his bony calcium against her nail.

‘Substitute teacher.’ He mocked.

‘Maybe I am, but I can still discipline you at home.’ She retorted.

‘I’d like to see you try.’ He laughed.

‘Just bend over my lap boy and I’ll crack your ass with my bunny slippers. Wooo-Haaa!’ She said demonstrating an imaginary ass slap.

He tossed her foot away from him. His growing disgust for her impressed her. He leaned forward with an angry face and Anna cocked forwards and pouted her lips, offering him a peaceful solution. She was running out of ways to goad him. He accepted her offer and pressed his lips on hers. It was a shared peck; something light and friendly.

‘Meh! What a rubbish kiss.’ She yawned.

He pressed his nose against hers and gritted his teeth.

‘Don’t bug me!’ He warned. Anna gave a horny humming sound from the back of her throat as she pressed into him.

‘Oh you think you’re such a stud, but your nothing. Nothing you hear!’ She taunted; her lips so close to his, her intoxicating motherly breath wrapping around his teenage mouth. The power of which made his lips peel apart and his cheeks burn with lustful sensations.

It was not possible to stand for this any longer.

He eased his pressure on her nose, took a short breath at the same time as her and then leaned his mouth in against hers so they could lock lips. Anna’s eyes lit up in surprise for a second and she let out an internal gasp but then like a receding tide she loosened her lips and sat dumbfounded, though submissive to his inventive reaction. His lips were sweet and he must have been practising with his hand or teddy bear because the kiss was good. She hummed a deliciously stringed ‘M’ as she pulled away with her pouting lips now gleaming with her son’s saliva.

‘OMFG!’ She gulped. That was hot! If she was a gun, there would be smoke coming out of her mouth because something in his lips had fired off an explosive round. No hole at the back of her head fortunately but for a kiss like that, she might have accepted a bullet to the mouth. The fireworks he deposited in her were so unexpected she had to take a second to regain her senses. He watched as she pretended not to appear too giddy, but she was failing badly. This substitute teacher was out of her league. Malcolm was hot property around campus, not least with Sally, but the cheerleaders and bookworms. Everyone wanted a piece of him, and unconsciously, so did Anna. She always liked to remind him he was a stud but in that embarrassing motherly way. Sexual thoughts of him were never on her mind, not as she identified. As far as she was concerned, a mum’s boy was her most precious love, someone who did not need to win her heart.

No one would ever know him better and if they ever tried, a competitive side of her would emerge; an automated response to any threats; like Sally.

‘Mum?’ He said but she did not answer him. She was more impulsive than thoughtful, and was responding to him like an animal, waiting for him to move first.

He advanced forward and she leaned away teasingly but then slowed and migrated towards him again and invited him in to her; it didn’t feel like family fun anymore that’s for sure. At least not the kind she knew. But heck it felt good. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to activate her fireplace around her vagina but it did. Why would kissing her son make her feel so dizzy? Whatever it was she had to accept it and try and turn the tables. Somehow, the normally cynical and easily embarrassed son had adapted her flirting strategy and turned it against her and neither one of them was willing to back down.

She wondered if he even enjoyed applying those short kisses to his mother, or if it was strategy. Part of her did not want to feel he was using her, and that was a strange thought which just leapt ahead of the other more obvious ones. No woman wanted to be kissed by a robot. So, she reasoned that if her son was getting excited, it was only natural.

‘I hope you like it like that.’ She smiled lightly kissing his chin, his cheeks and nose.

He looked a bit dazed and ashen faced. His body temperature was rising. As they lay tangled together, she put a hand to his forehead. Maternal love was always the first thing on her mind.

‘Baby?’ She said with a concerned expression.

‘I’m ok mum.’ He said squeezing her soft calf.

‘Lie down.’ He ordered.

‘Yes daddy.’ She obeyed, letting the cushy bed break her fall. She let her arms spill out. He liked being called Daddy.

‘Who am I?’ He asked with one hand to his ear.

‘You’re my daddy.’ Mum obediently answered.

‘Say it again.’ He ordered.

‘No.’ Breathed Anna.

Malcolm smiled and looked up ahead on the wall. The clock read 4pm. Around this time they would usually be disturbed by someone. They lived in the Bible belt so normally evangelists or the watchtower folk would ring on the doorbell. Anna loved them all and always invited them in for tea.

‘Hon, I know you want to get rid of me, but ain’t no one gonna disturb us, BwaHaHaHa!’ She laughed.

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