New! In the Bleak Midwinter

Tags: Incest, Mother, Son, England, British, Fiction

Editor's note: You are about to venture outside of femdom & crossdressing and into the realm of the taboo. This is a fictional short story involving incest. This a story for adults involving adults. All characters are aged 18 and above.

"Kim"

A family striving, with the best of intentions, to give its youngsters the best possible start in life, finds itself going down an unexpected pathway. During a snowstorm a mother and son bond in that unexpected way that will forever change how they see each other as man and woman. 

We all try to give our offspring help and encouragement in the interests they develop. Sometimes, we even invite them to share our own. It is often a relief to know that they are following some worthwhile pursuit or hobby rather than, say, falling in with a bad crowd or developing criminal tendencies. There can be an unexpected "side" however to involving oneself too deeply in the affairs of the young, rather than leaving them to make their own mistakes and gather their own life experience.

   Carefully, Wendy put down the house phone and turned to face husband and daughter who were standing side-by-side in the hallway. A not-best-pleased look clouded her face.

   'There you are... just exactly what I said. NO trains available. ALL the afternoon services cancelled. I told you we should have gone down to support him... especially as he's made it through to the second day... a medal of some kind's almost guaranteed - and probably even a place in the nationals, if it comes to that...'

   Wendy's voice trailed off in irritation as she stared through the window at the menacing sky. Sighing, she returned her gaze to the walls of Ryan's  room, covered in photos of his weight-lifting exploits and with shelving almost bowing under the burden of his trophies, accumulated in a few short years since his early teens.

   'Yes, but you know very well that neither of us could just disappear during Becky's party yesterday. How fair would that have been? It seemed no problem for him to take the train there and back just for once. He's hardly a child any more. How could we have known that it would snow like that down there? It wasn't in the forecast. Shall we tell him to stay another night at the guest house... or... what?'

   Doug looked at his wife pleadingly but helplessly, ruefully aware that, in her eyes, he would always play second fiddle to his son. With no other recourse open to him, he simply waited for a response, standing helplessly next to his teenage daughter.

  Hardly a child. The words echoed around Wendy's mind and seemed confirmed by the young man, replete with toothy smile and bulging muscles, who stared back at her from most of the photos. At some level she was aware that she spoiled her son, that others thought he could do no wrong in her eyes. But then what else was she supposed to do? A husband who paid her scant attention any more and a preening-in-mirror daughter who was becoming ever more the haughty little madam, intent on ruling the roost in the name of her ballet obsession... of course she was going to ally herself all the more closely with Ryan.

   No, absolutely, she was going to have him home with her. Already, with even just the one night's absence, she was beginning to miss his easygoing company and little quirks which demanded her playing of the Mum Card... a forgotten appointment here, a quarrel with girlfriend there. Girlfriend... oh yes... Wendy was somehow fairly sure that this latest one... this Cathy... was not for him. Too bossy, too haughty... but still, she was Ryan's choice, so... well... ok... maybe...

   'No, look, it's nearly lunchtime now. I'll go and get him and to hell with sudden rail closures and more hotel expenses. You stay here if you must. It's... what... two and a half hours to get down to Southampton..? The competition will have finished by three, probably - but I might just make it in time to see how he's done. We should have been down there cheering him on anyway. I'll ring him back and let him know.'
   

    Doug knew there was no point in arguing. She had uttered this last part with more than an edge to her voice. She was clearly in something of a temper and the last thing he wanted was for this stand-off to become a drama. If she wanted to go, well, so be it.
   

    Yes, a temper was exactly what Wendy was in... and after the briefest of calls with Ryan to confirm her "rescue mission"... she was in the car without any further ado, only too glad to be out of the house and away from feckless husband and bitching daughter. Even as she drove off, she realised that she had not put much thought into what she was doing. It was a spontaneous, reactive move born more of frustration than anything else... but such thoughts soon left her mind as she consoled herself with the idea that she was getting closer to Ryan with each passing mile...                                               
  

'Oh... ok, then. I'll see you at school on Monday.'
   

    Ryan felt more than somewhat deflated as he switched off his phone for the second time and stowed it in a pocket of his gym bag which, in turn, he placed carefully in the locker in front of him. Why had nobody come down from Banbury to support him? Ok, he knew that weight lifting was scarcely a spectator sport... but first his family and now, after promises to the contrary, his girlfriend Cathy was ditching him in favour of going to see some film he had never heard of... something connected with her studies. Yes, he knew she would have had to persuade her parents to let her come... but even so. He felt, if not abandoned, then at least deprived of essential company.
   

    Cathy was beginning, truly, to annoy him. She had transferred in from another school to do her A-Levels and, to begin with, he had thought this was the girl of his dreams. Irritatingly, lately it seemed increasingly that she was actually more intent on getting through her course than consorting with him. This was not at all what he had reckoned on, having had a succession of adoring girlfriends over the last couple of years whom he had dropped one after another. They were supposed to hang on his every word, not have minds of their own.
   

    While studying himself in the changing room mirror and making minor adjustments to his vest and compression shorts, the deflation was really only mitigated by the thought that his mother was on her way to collect him... with any luck she might be in time to see the closing stages. The thought hardly began at a conscious level but somehow it began to produce in him a warm feeling of reassurance and of pleasure. He pushed through the double doors and out into the main hall along with his fellow competitors.

                                                                                                
   The drive down had taken longer than she had imagined at all likely. Wendy considered the possibility that the roads were actually more full of traffic than normal precisely because people were trying to get home before the predicted bad weather really closed in. She heaved an audible sigh of relief as she finally pulled into the snow-covered parking area of the leisure centre. She glanced at the dashboard clock and saw that it was gone two - the afternoon session would have begun already. Grabbing hold of handbag and flimsy anorak, she left the car and dashed through the building's entrance, hoping she would not have to spend too long buying a ticket.

   The Southern Regional Championships of UK Weight Lifting's under 21 class were attended by an audience composed really only of family and friends. As she settled down to watch among them, hearing the occasional shout of encouragement directed towards the centre stage area, she caught sight of Ryan waiting in line to do his final lift of the event. At the same time virtually, their eyes met and she was rewarded with a huge smile and a wave. She thought, not for the first time, of how this sport was turning him into a real man... endowed with a physique way beyond his years. Ryan, for his part, was immediately buoyed up by seeing his mother. Someone finally there "in his corner" and not just anyone but the family member who seemed to appreciate him the most. Yes, he thought, she was always there for him... through thick and thin.

********************

  Flinging his kit bag into the car boot, Ryan slammed the tailgate shut and rushed around to join his mother inside the car and get out of the biting cold and the eye-stinging snowflakes which were starting to fall again. He sighed again, audibly, still irritated by the memory of the last half hour. It had started so well, with the arrival of his mother among the onlookers... and to him it seemed that he had performed the last lift faultlessly. Not so the judges, who had deemed it less than perfect, to the extent that he had come away with merely the bronze medal.

   'Not to worry, love. You did your best. I thought you were great... er... and Dad and Becky would think the same. Everyone's very proud of you...' Wendy's voice trailed off as she turned the ignition key, having added the last remark almost as an afterthought. She leaned over, intending to give him a peck on the cheek, recoiling in some embarrassment as he had turned towards her and their lips brushed together.

   As if, Ryan thought, comparing his father's attitude towards him and weight lifting with the gushing he exhibited towards his sister's ballet progress. Oh well, it's certain I actually did better than this third place. The winner and second place guy looked really, really sheepish when I was marked down. I was leading right up to that point.

   'Let's just get home...'

   Wendy sensed her son's disappointment - she herself realised how badly the judging had gone - and a wave of protective maternal feeling came over her... or was it that? Ryan had sacrificed showering in favour of haste, given the weather... a slight parfum of his sweat filled the vehicle which Wendy feigned not to notice. It was a manly smell - her little boy was history in that aspect of matters. She felt irrationally moved... excited, almost. Whatever the case, not much could be done here and now about that disgraceful judging. Glancing up at the leaden sky with a sense of foreboding, she shook her head as if to rid herself of such feelings, grimaced and set the car in motion.

********************

   Where the A34 crosses the M4 motorway, Chieveley Services Area sits, dispensing in all its shabby glory food and drink to the passing traffic from both highways. Wendy and Ryan sat at one corner of the café, their light anoraks thrown over the backs of their chairs, relishing the warmth of the place  and clinging tightly to their coffee cups. Ryan had insisted on the car "having a rest" - despite not yet having gained his own driver's licence, he knew that the twelve-year-old Ford's engine had recently developed an intermittent knock. Wendy bowed to her son's greater knowledge of matters mechanical. It seemed the right thing to do... and a half-way break seemed indicated anyway.

   The place was less than busy. By now, people had cancelled or postponed most non-urgent journeys. The café held only a tiny scattering of
what looked like lorry drivers and one small group of football supporters, obviously travelling together and with more than a drink or two inside them. The occasional raucous expletive or laugh broke out from their direction.

   For a while, mother and son chatted mundanely over the bronze medal award and what a scandal it had been. It seemed to Ryan that Wendy was actually more troubled about it than he was himself. He appreciated at some subconscious level that his mother was taking his side almost automatically, and this aroused in him once again that warm feeling of pleasure and comfort which it had always done throughout his boyhood. There was now inevitably an adolescent and rebellious "let me fight my own battles" attitude mixed in with it... but it was still there, deep down.

  He got up from the table and made off towards the toilets, passing the worse-for-wear football foursome on the way. One of them looked up and glanced sneeringly at him as he went by. There's a crash waiting to happen, he thought to himself.

********************

   Returning from the toilets, he re-entered the café to be greeted by a loud, gleeful cry of "Come on, love... let's see what you got..." He recognised immediately that the football yobs had moved over to his mother's table and were pawing at her, leering and swaying drunkenly. Almost without thinking, he rushed the remaining few yards over to her side, while at virtually the same instant one of the yobs grabbed a handful of Wendy's blouse and turned unsteadily away from her, tearing it together with one of her bra straps. Ryan set about the man, applying the muscled force which he found so easy to muster. The man's efforts to defend himself were as good as useless against the boy's superior strength and unimpaired co-ordination. He soon lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, holding his solar plexus, cursing and dabbing at a bloodied lip.

   Ryan wheeled and threw off one of the others who had been attempting to drag him away, twisting his arm brutally in the process. The man yelped in pain. The oldest and least drunk of the four held up both hands in a placating gesture.

   'Enough... enough... we'll be going, ok?  Didn't mean any trouble. Kevin there's probably had a can too many.' He nodded towards his pal still kneeling on the floor and trying ineptly to get to his feet. The four made their shuffling way out of the café, supporting each other and still issuing shouted bursts of foul-mouthed language as they went.

   'Are you ok, Mum?' he  gasped out, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He could see that there was nothing wrong but needed confirmation. Someone had dared raise a hand to his wonderful mother. He hugged her close, protectively.

   'I'm fine, love,' she said quaveringly and somewhat unconvincingly, 'Thanks for dealing with those animals. You're my hero! Now, I need to visit the ladies' room after all that and then we'll have to get going - the snow's starting come down again. She pushed him away gently, her hands then rapidly flying up to hold what was left of her blouse together, and made off towards the toilet, clutching her handbag.

   Ten minutes later found the pair heading once more towards the car. Each was deep in thought as the light snow whipped around them, driven by a bitter wind. Wendy was still affected by the scene in the café... not so much by the behaviour of the yobs but more by the heroic defence of her shown by Ryan. He had been quite the film hero... charging courageously to the rescue, muscles rippling, putting her attackers to flight. For the second time today, she realised that the little boy on whom she had doted was gone... being replaced by this purposeful and assertive male.

   Ryan likewise had been affected by the incident. He had been in a situation where he had protected his mother, putting himself between her and danger...  he felt strangely changed by the whole thing... and he had seen, if only for a moment, her bared round breasts complete with brown, upright nipples. The glimpse had been a shock... and, in that moment, her category in his mind of adored mother had migrated to overlap vaguely with that of... sensuous woman with all the right curves.

********************

   'Look, Mum, it's just no good. We can hardly see to drive - the wipers aren't really coping - and I'm afraid the engine's going to give out at any moment and then we could be stuck in the middle of the carriageway. I know there's not much of a hard shoulder but if you just pull into the left as far as you can. .? Put the hazard warning lights on, of course.'

   They had gone only about another seven miles beyond the M4 junction in the Oxford direction and Ryan had been sensing the engine's knocking for some time now. His concern was genuine, even if he was laying it on more assertively than usual, in his new-found role of mother protector. Wendy too had been feeling the very momentary, small engine hiccups. She knew there was risk in both propositions - falling in with Ryan's urgings or continuing onwards, but it seemed to her that there was common sense in what he was saying. Besides, he now seemed to speak with an authority which almost required heeding... that of leadership. She nodded in acquiescence and brought the car to a slow halt as far to the left and off the road as she could. Looking grimly through the windscreen at the increasing flurry of snowflakes, she switched off the wipers, which were fighting a losing battle, and jabbed at the red triangle of the warning lights button.

   The accumulating snowflakes were gradually reducing both the light level within the car and the ability to see out. It was clear even so that traffic was still passing them but very slowly and infrequently - it looked like most people were indeed now staying off the roads. In exasperation, Wendy found her mobile and put a call through to Doug to let him know what had happened. A short discussion took place which ended with Wendy saying that she would call again in half an hour if they were still stuck. At that stage it would be decided if the police or a rescue organisation might be called. Not for the first time, she thanked her lucky stars that she had charged up the mobile after breakfast that day... there was no in-car charger to hand.

   Communication with the outside world might be fine but warmth was altogether a different problem. They could not keep running the engine and the residual heat from the hot air blower was fast disappearing. The one thin car blanket they had would scarcely stretch across the two front seats.

   'Look, love,' Wendy said after some internal debate, 'we'll both climb into the back and cuddle together with the blanket over us, yes?'

   There was some reluctance on the part of both to the thought of trying to do this in the normal way and letting cold air in so, after a good deal of twisting and bodily contortion, they managed to make it over the gear stick and hand brake to the back seat of the Ford. They clutched and held each other tight, wrapping the red tartan blanket around themselves as closely as they could.

   It was a novel feeling for both, to sense each other's hands on their backs and each other's hot breath next to their ears. The silence, broken only very occasionally now by the snow-muted crunching past of another vehicle, added to a an embarrassment... the need to say something. Wendy pushed away slightly from her son and now their eyes were mere inches from each other.

   'I haven't thanked you properly for what you did back there, love. You were my shining white knight, riding to my rescue like that and seeing those idiots off.'

   'Oh, don't worry about that, Mum. They were hurting you and I just saw red. I hardly thought at all about what I was doing.'

   'Well, anyway, you were a real man.' Wendy meant every word and she leaned forward again, the words and their meaning still filling her head, to give him a supposed motherly kiss on the forehead. At the moment her head turned up towards him, he looked down again towards her... and for the second time that day their lips met.

   This time, there was reluctance on both sides to finish the moment... to pull away. Wendy's head was still filled with thoughts of the muscular man who who had protected her and the obvious bulge on display in his weightlifting shorts earlier, framed by a background of lack of interest and neglect from her husband. Ryan's memory still played with the vivid sighting of those curvaceous breasts, owned by a woman who looked up demurely both to him and to his mastery of things.

   The kiss went on... and on...

   At the point where you might have expected embarrassment or shame to arise, instead hands went inside belts and between legs to find, on the one side, springing eagerness... that bulge now straining mightily against the thin cotton of Ryan's trousers... on the other, a warm dampness with bedewed soft, pink lips, ready to receive some long-overdue attention.

   Mouths now opened and tongues probed in between teeth, at first falteringly but slowly with greater confidence and forcefulness. Trousers and slacks had their belts loosened and were tugged off with ever-increasing impatience clear of kicking legs. Ryan was now eager to find those breasts again and Wendy allowed free access, caught up in a moment of what was sheer lust for both of them. She arched her back as Ryan bit down and sucked on her stiff, erect nipples, offering them up to him, and her legs opened almost as an automatic reaction to his attentions.

   As if in sudden realisation of what that last, involuntary movement was implying - that she was here now, eagerly involving herself in a world of wrongness and wicked intentions with her own son, she made a half-hearted attempt to clamp her thighs shut again. The words 'No... no...' stuttered feebly and unconvincingly from her lips. And it was almost with feelings of joy and relief that she witnessed those powerful, weightlifter hands reach down under the blanket and rip her flimsy panties open , exposing her fully to him, and then force her legs abruptly apart again in a completely no-nonsense manner.

   My God, she thought wildly, taking in his fixed and unwavering gaze. He wants me... he means to take me...

   The realisation struck home with her.

   She reached tentatively inside his underpants for his massively engorged penis and marvelled at the size of it in her hand... doubting that Doug's genes had really influenced this particular matter at all. She smiled up at him and her hands reached behind his back to tug down on those pants, freeing that member to trail down her belly. Slowly, Ryan settled between her legs as she guided him with one hand to the moistness of her entrance. It was too much to hope for any self-control from Ryan at this moment... he thrust savagely up and into his mother, no thought involved but driven purely by his carnal instincts. Below him, he vaguely took in Wendy's face as her eyes widened and she gave a small cry, unused either to this large girth or the abruptness of this impaling of her.

   The pair settled down into a slow but insistent version of the ancient rhythm. As Wendy's vagina relaxed and dilated to accommodate her son and her juices began to flow even more readily, her legs encircled him to rest across his bare back and try to draw him, if at all possible, even more deeply inside her.  His deep, guttural grunts were matched by her own moans and mewings, uttered automatically in a higher, more feminine register than her natural speaking voice and designed by evolution of the female to spur on the male.

   Gradually, Ryan's rhythm began to increase and Wendy realised that he was on the verge of coming inside her. For a split second something told her, for the second time, that all of this was wrong... wrong... that this was her own son, returning to her birth canal and claiming it in lieu of his father, her husband. At the same time, her own need overwhelmed the thought and replaced it by one which whispered to her that it was she who was claiming his member... his mighty cock... for herself and denying it to that string of useless little hussies who had set themselves up at various times as "Ryan's girlfriend". The thought was a selfish one... and went straight to a deep, dark place within her mind which began to release the first stirrings of that tickle in her groin... urged onwards and upwards by Ryan's increasingly powerful thrusts.

  The pair of lovers, twenty years apart in age but united in the moment, fell together over the edge of physical delight. They orgasmed long and hard, gouging and biting, squealing and gasping for breath... and finally emitting long, shuddering sighs of fulfilment. They slipped outside the confines of their blanket, bathed in sweat and still locked together, Ryan's hips spasmodically still jerking occasionally, Wendy's own pelvis continuing with its gentle bucking.

   Slipping from inside their tangle of discarded clothing, impossible to identify from which item exactly, Wendy's phone dropped to the floor of the car and, after a few moments, a tinny voice could be heard faintly questioning with "Hello..? Hello..?" In a mad rush and mostly naked, Wendy grasped ineptly for it, hitting more than one button in her haste. The sound volume increased by several orders of magnitude and Doug's tones became apparent to both of them..

   'Everything ok, love? It's only been twenty minutes...'  His voice did not carry the impression of great concern - it was as if he was reading from a script without too much enthusiasm.

   'Y..yes... yes.. I just dropped the phone and it dialled you again. Everything's... er... fine.. don't worry about us. If we have any trouble, we'll be sure to ring again.' Wendy was staring her son straight in the eyes as she uttered the lie, still panting gently underneath him:

   'Miss you... hopefully be back soon...'

   'Fine, my love... make sure you do ring if there's any problem. Bye...'

   'Bye for now.' Wendy hit the "power off" button on the side of her phone and threw it onto the front passenger seat.

   'And hopefully no more interruptions, either', she murmured gently. She unlocked herself from her son, sat up and reached forward to take his member again into her grasp... and felt with delight how it began to grow and stiffen beneath her touch. She jettisoned the blanket completely and bowed her head into his lap to take her prize, that magnificent manhood, between her wide-open lips.

The End

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Contact the author Kim:

velvetglider@yahoo.com