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In The House At The End Of The Street
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

Can you describe a color to one who was born blind, 
tell a joke to someone in a coma? Is Incest a crime or 
simply an opportunity? (F/m-teen, ped, inc)

***

To be honest, I have never thought of myself as the 
quintessential "Scarlet woman."

God forbid! Brought up, the eldest of four children 
within a typically strict Catholic family, I had little 
inclination, let alone opportunity, to stray from the 
fold as it were.

Maybe it had something to do with my having married so 
young - at just eighteen, to a boy I met in my first 
year at the University of Toronto. Conrad had swept me 
off my feet - changed my entire perspective on life in 
fact. At the point he proposed to me that night at the 
theater, echoing those ultimately simple five words 
that every girl at some stage longs to hear, "Julia, 
would you marry me?" I had no need to answer with 
words. It was simply a case of sooner rather than 
later!

Trent came along within a year and difficult as it was, 
I managed to balance motherhood and my studies with 
remarkable success.

It doesn't even seem that long ago! I am just thirty-
four now while Trent celebrated his fifteenth birthday 
some six months back. He is a strapping boy, 
intelligent and wise beyond his years, with very much 
his father's good looks and presence. It frightens me.

I can't be sure when exactly I started having the 
fantasies but once instigated, they were on-site for 
the duration. Nothing in our marital lives has been 
anything but blissful contentment and shared romantic 
indulgence. I love Conrad as much as ever I did and I 
have no reason to think his attentions and gentle 
courtesies are anything but evidence of a loving and 
happy husband.

Looming however - the clouds of dysfunctional sexual 
desire have been building up in the east now for some 
months!

If I had to nominate some particular event that 
catalysed this fully unaccountable emotional upheaval, 
then inarguably it was that weekend not long after 
Trent's fifteenth. 

Conrad had been down at the club with Jeremy, his best-
friend since childhood and I had taken the opportunity 
to have a relaxing hot bath, it being mid-winter still. 

Not expecting Trent back for some hours from his 
sport's carnival I suppose I had been something less 
than vigilant in my privacy by forgetting to lock the 
bathroom door.

As girls do occasionally (and lets not assume boys to 
be completely innocent in this regard either) I had 
allowed my hand license to travel to certain intimate 
areas that appreciate the dexterous nature of rhythmic 
caresses, shall we say? As far as I can recall, I had 
no set images in my mind right at that moment, simply 
allowing the pervading warmth of the bath and the 
physical contact to work their joint magic. It was 
certainly "working"... I seem to recall the odd sound 
of pleasured rapture issuing from my lips.

I don't know what made me turn around, maybe 
subconsciously I just 'knew!"

Trent was standing there. As shocked as I, he was just 
staring, as much in disbelief I imagine as dishonorable 
guilt.

"Good heavens Trent," I muttered, sliding 
surreptitiously lower into the bubbles so that my 
breasts were covered, "Have you never heard of 
knocking?"

"I'm so sorry mom," he answered, "I just heard strange 
noises in here (at this point he began blushing 
dramatically) "and, er... well, I guess I just came 
in."

"Were you here..." I paused for a moment, "long?" 

"Oh, no," he quite obviously lied, "I just walked in 
mom!"

Fully a Mexican stand-off, Trent retreated to the 
hallway then, closing the door behind him. Sitting up 
once more, I just lay there breathing heavily and 
wondering why it was I felt so flushed and aroused. I 
noticed right at that moment how erect my nipples had 
become. Instinctively I rubbed the swollen teat between 
my thumb and forefinger.

Trent and I shared a remarkably quiet dinner that 
night, exchanging little more than polite conversation 
and forced pleasantries. I seem to recall a minimum of 
direct eye-contact.

In the coming days I found my mind replaying this 
close-encounter and each time I could not deny a 
pleasured reaction. Just the thought of so young a boy 
seeing his mother masturbate - as so surely he had, was 
turning me on unbearably. Perhaps because I am very 
slight - barely five three and with a girlish rather 
than a womanly figure, while Trent seems far older than 
his years both in build and maturity - that it felt 
just that much more "forbidden." 

Try as I might, I found myself wanting some further 
'involvement' with him despite the knowledge that this 
could never be. If nothing else, it was as much a 
betrayal of Conrad as a corrupting if not carnal 
influence in regards to an innocent fifteen-year old.

Gradually, the incident appeared to taper in relevance 
and my relationship with Trent took on its former 
stable and progressive habits. That isn't to say though 
that my fantasies tapered in any way. Far from it. Even 
as Conrad would make love to me some nights, it was 
Trent I was wanting to hold me like that and to whisper 
the tender words of endearment I was hearing. 

I even thought of going to the Parish Priest, but who 
could confess such thoughts and images?

Nothing would ever have happened - but for the 
circumstances of last weekend!

Conrad was once again at his Club leaving Trent and I 
alone in the house. This had caused no emotional 
hardship or discomfort as things between us were 
apparently back on an even keel, the events of several 
months ago now but a distant memory one might presume.

Having finished three day's ironing, I was carrying the 
basket up to the linen closet - just a few yards along 
the hallway past Trent's room, when I heard sounds from 
within, the bedroom door only having been pushed-to.

Not surprisingly, I guessed immediately the likely 
cause. A fifteen-and-a-half year-old boy? hormones? 
(probable) pics of naked girls? I just smiled to myself 
and walked on to the cupboard.

I can't tell you what happened between there and the 
three yards back to Trent's bedroom door...but 
something did! Even as I put the basket down quietly, I 
suppose I knew I was taking "one small step for a 
woman. one giant step for womanhood."

Guessing that Trent would be seated on the bed with his 
back to the door. I pushed the thing open soo slowly 
and peered around the edge.

He must have been three-quarters there. 

I couldn't see his erection from that angle, but I 
could definitely see what he was doing to it. I had no 
need to slip a hand into my own panties, much as I felt 
like it - I knew how wet they would be.

If he was uttering any intelligible words I couldn't 
discern them, it just sounded like an infinite range of 
pleasured grunts and sighs to me. To say I was 
fascinated would be an understatement. It was only then 
that I realised I had never even seen Conrad 
masturbating... or him - me, come to that.

As he jerked about suddenly and I saw, to my 
considerable pleasure I must admit, a stream of his 
boy's cum shoot upwards. I let down my guard fully 
unintentionally and made some audible noise. Trent spun 
around.

"Oh God mom," he cried in an agony of embarrassment, 
trying to cover himself. "I'm soo sorry!"

My heart melted for him and I ran to the bed.

Oh Trent," I said, "You have nothing to apologise for. 
I should never have walked in." I looked him full in 
the eyes before adding, "Trust me - I know the 
feeling."

That brought a smile to his young face.

"Yeah, I guess you do mom," he replied, his hands still 
covering that which unaccountably I wished he wasn't!

Realising then of course that he had condemned himself 
out of his own mouth, he continued, "S'pose you knew I 
saw everything that day too, didn't you mom?" I nodded.

"Did you hate me for it?"

That brought tears to my eyes.

"Hate you Trent? Gosh, how could you think that?" I sat 
down beside him. "No, my beautiful boy, I never loved 
you more. Would you like me to tell you the absolute 
truth?"

He nodded, subconsciously perhaps taking a hold of my 
hands at the same time, seemingly unaware of his limp 
penis now lying dormant and shrunken at the entrance to 
his gaping undies. It wasn't the time for me to be 
looking at that particular aspect of life.

"Well Trent," I continued, "If I was to be honest with 
you and I'm hoping against hope you never tell your dad 
this..." Now he was interested. I had to hesitate 
before continuing.

"This is very hard for me to say... well, I kinda liked 
the fact you saw me Trent. I know that's an awful thing 
to admit and I probably shouldn't be saying it to you, 
but it's the truth." For a moment I dropped my eyes, 
fearful I suppose, of the effect my words might have on 
him.

I felt his hand beneath my chin. Raising my face, the 
last thing I expected was for him to kiss me - and on 
the lips at that. An electric shock ran through me and 
I felt like a helpless little girl - the one that I 
suspect has never really grown-up in all these years. I 
just looked at him.

"You want to know about the truth mom?" he was saying. 

"Even before that afternoon, I always had "thoughts" 
about you mom, not thoughts a boy usually has about his 
mother either." I couldn't have stood-up right then if 
someone had paid me a million dollars! Now, he was 
looking away.

"I used to think about kissing you at first...but its 
gotten worse. After I saw you in the bath mom, I had to 
go to my room and beat-off......sorry for saying 
that..." It didn't matter, I think I was beyond further 
shock at that stage.

"And since then I have been thinking about you all the 
time. Do you know what I was imagining mom when you saw 
me just now?" It wasn't so much that I was casually 
interested at that stage - I had to hear it! I nodded.

"I was thinking about making love to you, it's all I 
think about!"

I wasn't prepared for his emotional collapse and as the 
tears shook his young body I just held him to me. My 
own were beginning to assemble in the corner of both 
eyes.

"It's OK, it's OK," I whispered as I cradled him, "I 
have had some terrible thoughts myself Trent... things 
I can't even tell you... things I can barely even admit 
to myself.."

He raised his tear-stained face towards mine, "You 
don't have to mom," and then he kissed me again.

This wasn't a child's kiss, not a mother-son kiss, and 
definitely not the peck of a stranger. This was a 
lover's kiss. Conrad's image flashed before my eyes, 
then my father's, but as both quickly faded, my 
handsome boy's face came back into focus. He was 
smiling despite the tears.

"I love you mom," was all he said. It was all he had to 
say!

Whether he lay me back on the bed or I did it myself I 
don't remember. I recall his undoing my top buttons, 
exposing my rather flimsy little bra beneath which he 
gently thrust his hand. I only have small breasts but 
the feeling as his hand slid across my nipples was one 
of extreme pleasure. I knew some formative moans were 
issuing from between my lips. His very inexperience and 
unfamiliarity with the territory were simply adding to 
my arousal, hopefully also - his own. My lips sought 
his and my arm pulled him closer.

"Should I take my dress off for you?" I offered. He 
looked at me in stunned disbelief but nodded in dumb 
acceptance of what ultimately must be.

Standing in front of a fifteen-year old boy, unzipping 
that dress must rank as the most erotic moment of my 
life to date. His eyes the size of saucers, my body 
took delight in revealing its femininity to him. He 
pulled me back down on the bed, dressed now only in my 
bra and panties. I teased him unmercifully by pulling 
one thin strap down my arm. Taking his cue, he balanced 
things up nicely by tugging the other down too. For a 
moment I think my heartbeat must have been audible as 
he gently took a hold of both straps and made to pull 
them lower. Maybe it was his we could hear?

As my breasts were exposed I gasped. Trent simply laid 
a hand on them and so very gently began to fondle me. I 
could not repress the urge to squirm slightly nor could 
I wrench my eyes from what he was now doing to my 
nipples. "If this isn't the most arousing moment of my 
life" I was thinking. I needed him to suckle me.

Manouevering Trent's face to within inches and by 
arching my back slightly, nature's own blueprint for 
survival took over. As I felt his mouth latch back on 
to that which his own regressed memory was now 
recalling with no impediment, I let out a sigh of 
extreme pleasure. 

"That's it Trent, suck them like you used to," I 
whispered, immediately feeling totally embarrassed at 
falling back on the use of such immature dialog. I 
don't think he was even listening.

Raising his lips from my nipples he looked at me for a 
moment. "You are so pretty mom...so pretty!" Right 
then, I felt it!

It was all I could do not to slip a hand inside my own 
panties. The two reasons I managed not to being that 
(a) that might be construed as overly improper and (b) 
I was hoping desperately that he would do it himself. I 
knew how wet I was there - I just wanted Trent to find 
out in his own good time.

No fifteen-year old can possibly be a smooth operator 
when it comes to sex and Trent was no exception. Loving 
and gentle as he was, quite obviously he was afraid to 
take the initiative and that I found so endearing. It 
wasn't helping my incestuous needs though. Past 
wondering why I was thinking (and now acting-out) these 
forbidden desires, all my body was demanding was 
satisfaction. 

I wriggled my hips as if to remind him there were other 
areas he might find interesting if he would but look. 
Returning his lips to my own, rather than my nipples 
was a subtle reminder. If I was going to be forced to 
take a hold of his lower extremities in order to widen 
his considered options I think I would have done it.

As it happened, his hand commenced its own exploratory 
across my abdomen and hips. I let him know by a series 
of sighs and light moans that this was definitely a 
move in the right direction. When he reached finally 
the waistband of my panties I felt his reticence to 
proceed.

"It's Ok Trent," I whispered in his ear. "You can take 
them off."

He didn't need any further urging.
"Oh God mom," he managed to get out as he just knelt 
there beside me, staring at my pussy, not that he could 
have seen too much, my legs were still together.

"I can't believe how beautiful you are... just as hot 
as the girls at school."

"Really?" I teased. "And just how many of them have you 
seen like this Trent?"

Fully blushing now he corrected himself. "You know what 
I mean mom... of course I haven't been with any girls 
like that.: 

For some reason I found that incredibly arousing - the 
fact that I was basically the first "girl" he had ever 
seen naked. Why I wasn't thinking about Conrad at this 
stage I have no idea, but I wasn't. 

"You're not being very fair Trent," I told him. He 
looked puzzled.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well you've taken all my clothes off... and you're 
still dressed!" 

"You want me to undress?" he said semi-shocked.

"Only if you want to," I replied, parting my legs 
fractionally. I saw his expression change momentarily. 
He must have noticed.

Feeling more wanton by the minute I was not about to 
discourage Trent's gently invasive exploration of my 
vaginal ingress. On a voyage of discovery himself, he 
was making me feel anything but a mother as his fingers 
separated my labia and softly felt their way inside. 
Quite beyond my control, several little gasps escaped 
my lips as he became more daring in his exploration. 
Nor did I fail to recognise the significance of it all, 
my beautiful boy stimulating now the very areas where-
in he had been himself conceived. I sat up suddenly and 
hugged him to me. Tears ran down my face and Trent 
withdrew his fingers and stared at me.

"Was I hurting you mom?" he asked, unsure of his own 
emotions right that moment.

"Of course not baby," I reassured him, "Nothing like 
that, I was just thinking about things, that's all."

"Is it dad," he enquired - somewhat perceptively I 
thought.

"No Trent," I answered truthfully - just girl stuff... 
honestly!" I lay back and drew him on top of me. I 
wanted him badly...needed him if the truth be known. To 
judge by whatever was pressing hard up against my 
tummy, I wasn't alone in the "needing" department.

Shucking off his jeans, shirt and underwear I found it 
hard to believe that this was a mid-teenager. His work-
rate at the gym had obviously been paying dividends. 

A born kisser, we both swiftly reached a level of 
arousal that was never going to be denied whatever the 
laws of the land. He had what I needed, I had what he 
craved.

With a minimum of guidance he slipped into me and as I 
drew my knees up in absolute pleasure at what was so 
deep inside me, I let myself be taken. 

Whether he was making love to his mom or a girl he was 
just going to know for a short time I can never know, 
but you can't fake sincerity or respect. He gave me 
both and I loved him for it. In his passion and 
inexperience he fondled my breasts until they were red 
raw... almost vandalised. He spread me to my 
theoretical limit and nearing his orgasmic Waterloo, 
thrust into me with the gentility of a considerate 
lover yet the work-rate of a first-time novice.

I think I cried out as I reached my own plateau, almost 
passing out with sensory overload. Trent was driving a 
mile-long goods train with no brakes and it felt like 
he came for ever.

After some five minutes of exhausted silence, with him 
lying still atop me while I just kissed him, playing 
with a few locks of his dark brown hair that had fallen 
across his forehead, he raised his head and smiled the 
most beautiful loving smile. 

They call it incest. 

I call it the purest love of all.

END

(c) Peter_Pan 2005 http://www.lulu.com/content/166938

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a 
fellow convict in their local prison.
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