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DESCRIPTIONMandy’s success as a mother can’t take away the fact her husband’s cheating on her. Left sexually frustrated, this mother’s desire for more children needs satisfaction. When a family movie night with her irresistible son takes a kinky taboo turn, Mandy feels her growing desires becoming known. With a little wine and her biological clock ticking, what will happen between this mother and son?EXCERPTOk, let’s get one thing settled at the beginning, I am not an alcoholic nor am I a sex crazed fiend who can’t control her passions. I’m a woman. That’s not extraordinary. I’m married, again, pretty typical. I fell in love with another man, boring and hum drum. The man I fell in love with impregnated me, a little more unusual, but not unexpected. The man I am having an adulterous affair with is my son. I know; I know; I know. Stop the world, it’s the end of times, kill the harlot. It’s not like that.I used to think that when a guy tried to explain their cheating away in a story or movie by saying, “It just happened,” was bullshit. How do you just happen to arouse another person, get naked with them, engage in foreplay, and then have sex with them? How does that happen? Well, now I know. Take two individuals who are in their sexual prime, place them in a compromising situation, allow both of them to be fully attracted to each other, and let nature take its course. That’s how it happens, and that’s what happened to me.I’m not really trying to excuse the incest that occurred between my son and me, and to be honest, I’m at full fault. I recognize that. But I wasn’t a sexual predator any more than my son was a rapist. I’m not a child abuser as he was fully 18 years old when we began fooling around. We were both fully consensual partners as we simply discovered a deeper bond than most mother/son relationships; and I’m not sorry for anything we did together.I know that I’m at fault for everything because I was the one who set it up; or at least life set it up for me. I have an overly demanding job; an overly absent husband; and a genuine need for stress management. Throughout most of Tim’s high school education I always had Friday nights alone. They were mine as my husband traveled far and wide for business and Tim was always out with his friends. After high school graduation, that all changed and on those Friday nights he often saw glimpses of my weekly ritual, but kept his distance. The first Friday of September, though, everything changed. On that night we were alone together, and my son got to see me in my less than glorious appearance which led to the glorious outcome we now have.
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A Wilder Short
Published by Lot’s Cave
A Wilder Short
Mom’s Dilemma, © 2015, Surely Wilder
All Rights Reserved
Cover by Moira Nelligar
All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Lot’s Cave Novel
Chapter 1 –Problems
Chapter 2 –Discovery
Chapter 3 –Mom’s Version
Chapter 4 –Decisions
Chapter 5 –Designs
Mom’s got a problem. Well, to tell you the truth, she’s got several problems, and it’s difficult to know which one causes the next. I just know it’s simply a staircase descending into disaster. One problem leads to the next which leads to the next, which leads to the next, which ultimately leads to me.
The first problem is Dad. In all terms of the meaning, my father is a respectable man. He’s a high power businessman and his work often takes him away on various trips. Last month, I counted; he was only home for five days. Mom is in her latter thirty’s, and I’ve heard that a woman hits her sexual prime then. It’s kind of weird to think that women at the age of thirty seven are like guys when they are at eighteen. That means that Mom and I are both sexed up without there being anything else involved, and trust me, there are other things involved. So, I suppose having a nonexistent husband to fulfill your needs is the first step of the staircase.
The second problem is her job. Mom is a business attorney. She makes damn good money, but it’s the kind of job that requires a lot of time and energy. She’s a junior partner for the firm she works for so that takes a huge toll on her. Monday through Friday, Mom is a rock. She has a steady schedule and nothing gets in the way. Not even me. She’s up at 5:00 a. m. and goes downstairs to workout in our home gym. She stretches, runs on the treadmill, works out with free weights to keep try to keep herself toned, and then she does about ten minutes of Pilates every day. You should see her in a one piece bathing suit. She only wears those because of the stretch marks I made when she carried me. She doesn’t look like a body builder as there is a pleasing amount of fat on her, but she has a perfect hourglass figure that I have often been mesmerized by. She has a gorgeous body for thirty seven and could easily pass for someone in their middle twenties. So, being sexed up is the second step on her stairway.
By 6:30, Mom is ready to go. She’s showered and coiffed to the highest degree in her business suits that make her look very imposing and professional. She works most nights until 5:00 or 6:30 and then she comes home. She usually reads, she’s got an obsession with Nook books until about 9:30, then it’s lights out, no noise in the house, she’s got to get her beauty sleep. The next day it all starts over again. That makes work and stress the third and fourth problem she has to step over.
Anyway, the stress of her work always means that on Friday night, she’s going to de-stress and she does that with four bottles of wine; the good stuff. I really didn’t know about that until recently.
I felt bad about not knowing about these things, but I graduated high school this year and while all of my friends were making plans to go to universities, I decided that I wanted to stay at home a little longer and go the community college here. I thought my friends were idiots to be honest. The college in town was way cheaper than the universities; it offered near full ride scholarships (that was important to me since my folks made too much for grants); and it had a good rep, especially the engineering program I was going into. I’d be set for a scholarship when I was ready to transfer and I knew that.
While I was in High School, I found every excuse to stay out of the house on weekends. There was always a party, late night movie, hanging out, something. I just didn’t dig the home scene all that much, and Mom seemed to be ok with things as long as I didn’t drink and drive. We had that rule which I followed to the letter. It was weird. She knew that I drank, but as long as I didn’t put myself at risk, she was cool with it. High school ended, my friends moved away, and suddenly, there was nothing to do but stay home and watch mom get wiped out on Friday nights. I was amazed. She would drink herself into almost a blind stupor while watching television or reading her Nook, and then she would stagger back to her room where she passed out on the bed. I usually didn’t interfere those nights and kept myself scare. So drinking was definitely another problem on the list. Add to the list a non-attentive son who was oblivious to all these concerns and making her do all of this by herself. Yea, my selfishness was one of the destructive steps.
I suppose if I had put all of the pieces together before hand I would have realized where all of this was going. The staircase of disaster had taken years to construct, and every step led to me. An absentee husband, an overly stressful job, drinking, loneliness, horniness, the sound of her biological clock, and a horny son became steps that would lead to the final problem, the baby she now carries for me.
It all started the first Friday night in September. I didn’t have anywhere to go for the first time in God knows how long. Dad was gone on a three week long business trip and this was only the second day of his departure. I was in the living room playing a video game and it was a little after 8:00. Mom came in, she was wearing a nightgown and a robe and she had a bottle of wine with her and a glass. It wasn’t the first time I had seen her perform this ritual so I wasn’t surprised though she looked at me with apprehension.
“No place to be tonight?” She asked.
“Not tonight, everyone’s working or out on dates. I’m just a lone wolf; OWW-WOO.” I joked, trying to break the obvious tension. Even though the robe she wore was kind of frumpy, I could still see her hourglass figure underneath and was reminded what a beautiful woman she was. I remembered thinking that I was way out of control and that I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that when her voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Well, I was going to watch a movie and have some wine before going to bed. Would you like to join?”
“What are you going to see?”
“Somewhere in Time,” she smiled.
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s an old love story, very romantic.” She teased.
I crinkled my nose at her and asked, “Any battle scenes in it?”
“No, just a lovely story, get a glass from the kitchen and I’ll let you have some of my wine.”
Well, I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to get a bit buzzed before bed, plus it had been awhile since I had spent time with Mom. When I came back into the living room, she had snuggled up on the couch and put a light blanket over her. The television was on and they were going through the previews.
“Why don’t you jump to the main menu?” I asked as I sat on the other side of the couch, far away from her.
“Why are you sitting way over there?” She complained.
“I was working out downstairs before and haven’t had a shower yet.” I answered.
“Are you planning on going anywhere later tonight?”
“I wouldn’t be drinking with you if I did,” I smiled.
“Good boy... Go take a shower and come back and join me. I want you to be comfortable.”
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