Copyright © 1998, Baron Darkside. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted by writing BaronDarkside@mrdouble.com. 1) Disclaimer One: This Is A Work Of Fiction; It Is Not True! (2) Disclaimer Two: If You Are Underage (Under The Age Of Eighteen (18)), Or In Locations That By Law, Preclude You From Reading Sexual Material, You Should Stop Reading This Material Now!! (3) Disclaimer Three: If You Are, Now Or Have Ever Been, Offended By Sex, Incest Or Any Other Subject Of A Sexual Nature, Please Avoid This Story. (I Would Also Suggest You Seek The Services Of A Psychologist.) (4) Disclaimer Four: This Is For Adults, And Contains Adult Oriented Material. If You Are Not An Adult, Either Chronologically, Mentally Or Sexually, Please Do Not Read Any Further Or You Will Probably Be Offended. (5) Disclaimer Five: The Author Of This Story is Baron DarkSide and I retain All Copyrights. I Hope That You Enjoy This Story and if you did please let me know at: barondarkside@mrdouble.com. INCESTUOUS FANTASIES ABOUT MOTHERS AND SONS FROM THE CRYPT OF BARON daRKSIDE Fantasy Number 61A (THE ADDICTION) (Part Two - On Collision Course) A Tale of Incest by Baron DarkSide The urgent need for gratification had decreased to the intensity of a throbbing ache inside her greedy cunt as she tossed the vibrator down. Slowly, her breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. But even now, she was still tenderly fondling her hyper-sensitive clitoris. God, I am deranged, she thought. She had just climaxed and now only seconds later, she was fondling herself again. But it felt so good. Turning her head, she stared at the pantyhose that had precipitated the near disaster. Suddenly, she had an idea. With an evil glint in her eyes, she grabbed up the hose and slipped out the bed. Grinning lewdly, she hurried into her sewing room... It was strained at the dinner table that night. David sensed that his parents weren't on the best of terms. They rarely spoke anymore and when they did, he could feel the undercut of hostility in their voices. But, that was their problem. He had to deal with his own problems. His mother's recent indiscretion and his blunderous faux pas this afternoon had energized the tension between them to a volatile level. The interaction between them was so charged, he couldn't help blushing every time their eyes met. All of this combined to throw a blanket of silence over the meal. No one tried to initiate conversation and as soon as he could, David pushed away from the table and rushed upstairs to his room... Thursday, David got home from school at his regular time and found the house empty as usual. Making himself another sandwich to rival the monster he had consumed the previous day, he gulped it down before heading up the stairs to his room. Tossing his books on the floor, he started to sit down at his computer when he saw a pair of hose lying on his bed. Sitting atop the hose was a scrap of paper with writing on it. It was his mother's flowing handwriting. The note read, "Try these." Why was she teasing him like this? Was she trying to mortify him. She was being a real witch about the whole thing. So he had made a fool out of himself, she didn't have to rub it in. Then he picked the hose up and they slowly unraveled in his hand. A rush of adrenaline shot through his body when he saw that the crotch had been cut out of them. What in the hell, he thought. Was his mother trying to tease him? Examining them closer, he saw that the opening had been reinforced by several stitches from a sewing machine. Another trickle of excitement ran through his cock. She hadn't just cut a hole in them, she had gone to the extra effort to make sure that it would stand up to the additional stress of having a cock thrust through the opening. Why had she gone to such trouble? In fact, why had she done it all? Curious thing for a mother to do, he thought. Then as he recalled their confrontation in her room, her reaction could have hardly been considered typical. She had seemed to accept his behavior as a matter of routine. Not the reaction he had expected. And now this. Was she trying to humiliate him or was there something else? Something deeper and more sinister. He stopped trying to guess the intent behind her creation. Just the fact that she had ruined a pair of her pantyhose to create what could be described as an erotic costume for him sent a shiver up his spine. Whatever her reason, it elicited a very sexual response in him. Was that queer or maybe she thought he was gay? Why did he get such a charge out of his mother's underwear? Was he a freak? Did other boys get the same thrill from touching and playing with their mother's undies? If he was deranged, then what about his mother? How many mother's would purposely mutilate a pair of their hose just so their son could wear them? With all these unanswered questions twirling about his head, he frantically stripped his clothes off. Shivering with excitement and anticipation, he sat down on the edge of his bed. Holding the panty hose up, he felt a tiny pinch of regret. With the crotch gone, he wouldn't be able to bury his nose into it and drink in the rich, erotic aroma of her musky scent. Quickly wadding the hose into a ball in his fists, he arched his foot and slowly slipped his toes into the silky sheath. Then he casually extended his leg and leisurely pulled the slippery pink nylon up his foot, around the curve of his heel, up over the swell of his calf, knee and then finally up the thickness of his muscular thigh stopping with the twisted roll of material bunched just below swollen cock. Stopping for a moment, he smoothed the cool, clinging smoothness of the material down his leg. Then he moved to repeat the process on his other leg. The soft, coolness of the nylon on his skin felt exhilarating as he ran his hands down his leg, smoothing the glossy pinkness of the silky material. With the pink hose gathered into a tight band just below his big, hairy balls and the cheeks of his ass, he stood up. Running his thumbs down his thighs, he slipped them under the band of springy material Then slowly, he eased the sheer pinkness up over his ass and cock. As he did, his big, dangling balls slithered out the opening as the thin, gauzy pinkness held his thick, swollen cock pinned against his stomach. Tugging the hose up his hips as far as they would go, he dug his hand down inside them and forced his bloated prick down through the hole his mother had created. Finally, his rigid eight inch boner sprang through the opening, jutting out ripe and hard. Standing in front of the mirror looking down at himself, he felt a narcissistic pride in his big, inflated prick. Then the parallel struck him. His cock was sticking out through a hole in his mother's panty hose. Did the hole, put there by his mother have symbolic significance? Had she meant for it to have a metaphorical meaning. Could she have meant that... A shudder went through his body and his cock began to jerk and spurt thick, heavy streams of gummy cum out onto the mirror. "AwwwFucckkkkk," he growled as his hips pistoned back and forth, fucking the imagery filling his brain. Gob after gob of his thick, virulent semen flew from his cock through the air and splashed onto the mirror. Again and again, it bucked and spurted until he was emptied. Gasping for breath, he fell back on the bed and lay there for several minutes. Finally, he was able to sit up. Seeing the mess he had made on his mirror, he shamefully slipped the panty hose off and used them to try and clean the splattered mirror. But he only smeared the gooey cream all over the place. Giving up, he tossed the pantyhose on top of his dresser and got a towel to clean up the mess. Then he hurried in and took a quick shower. He had just gotten dressed again when his mother and father arrived home... "How did school go today, dear?" His mother asked innocently as he sat down to supper. "Uh, fine," he muttered, blushing again. "Oh, did you find the pants I fixed for you?" What was she doing? Was she trying to embarrass him to death right in front of his father? Tossing a quick look at his father, David saw that he oblivious to the electricity arcing between David and his mother. He just sat there reading his paper. "Uh, yeah, uh, sure," he mumbled, his face afire with humiliation. "Oh, did you notice that I put a few extra stitches in them for you?" She smiled guilelessly, "I hope that they worked." "Uh, yeah, uh, I noticed. Uh, thanks." Thankfully his mother didn't bring the subject up again during the meal, and immediately after David finished eating, he rushed back up to his room... Friday morning, Gloria woke after David and Donald had gone. She could sleep in since she didn't have to be at work until nine while both of them usually left around seven. Lying in bed, she languorously stretched and yawned. Grimacing, she felt the sting of the burning pain between her legs. It was still there. She couldn't remember the last time it hadn't been there. It was her constant companion. And it was growing in intensity with each passing day. Would Saturday never get here, she grumbled. Then, she suddenly sat up, sending her big breasts into convulsions of motion. Throwing her feet off the bed, she jumped up and slipped into her night robe. Naked underneath it, she quickly padded down to David's room. "David, are you in there?" She asked loudly, hearing her voice reverberate through the empty house. Hearing no answer, she slowly eased his door open and peeked inside. His room was in its usual state of disarray, but that was no surprise to her. It was always a mess. Stepping inside, she searched the room with her eyes, looking for the panty hose she had left for him yesterday. Then she saw them, wadded into a ball and lying on top of his dresser. Threading her way through the litter on the floor, she stepped over to the dresser and picked them up. As they unraveled, saw that they were covered with a coating of dried, flaky, white residue. "Oh, My goodness," she gushed, realizing it was dried semen. Why, he must have masturbated with her panty hose, she thought. A perverse chill ran through her as she recalled the image of him stroking himself yesterday. Blushing uncontrollably, she wadded her hose back up and fled back to her bedroom. What had she done, she asked herself. It was her son she was toying with, not some guy she had the hots for. How could she have done such a thing? Then the sight of him standing in front of her mirror with her hose on flashed across her mind again. She felt another flush of excitement wash over her as the poison of lechery coursed through her bloodstream. As wicked and wrong as it was, she couldn't stop herself. Her malignant appetite for sex knew no bounds. Even if it drove her to taunt and tease her own son with it. Throwing open her lingerie drawer, she ran her fingers over the rows of frilly undergarments. Finally, she plucked out a pair of hose. Then she jerked out a matching set of panties and garter belt. Unfolding the panties, she smiled wickedly, wondering what David would think when he saw that they were crotchless. God what a Jezebel she had become. How could she justify leading her son on like this? Teasing him with brief flashes of her true sexuality. Taunting him with her most suggestive lingerie. Catering to his unusual sexual tastes. Why was she leading him on this way? She couldn't answer her own question, but deep inside she knew it was fueled by her incurable addiction to sex. She needed sex so badly, she couldn't think straight. Her every thought was tainted by its insidious hold on her. And it was slowly driving her crazy. Someday, she knew she would have to pay what she was doing, even with that threat hanging over her head, she didn't stop. The demon in her brain urged her own, pushing her down the hallway to David's bedroom. Sweeping a clear spot on his bed, she laid the panties and garters down first and then covered them with the hose. Then, as she started to leave his room, she stopped. Walking over to his desk, she picked up a piece of paper and pencil. Writing out a short note, she tossed the pencil down and gently laid the note on top of her gift to her son. That ought to get a rise out of him, she laughed to herself, traipsing back to her room... That afternoon, David didn't make his customary stop at the kitchen. He rushed straight up to his room wondering if his mother had left him another surprise. Throwing open the door, he saw that she had and it lying in the middle of his bed. He could see that she had left a pair of royal blue hose with a piece of paper lying on top of them. Hurrying across the room, he grabbed up the piece of paper. It was another note from his mother. This one read "I saw how much you enjoyed my last surprise. So I brought you some more. I hope you enjoy these as much as you did my last gift." This time she signed the note "Love, Mom." A jolt of perverse excitement sparked through his prick. Why was she doing this? Dropping the note, he picked up the hose. They were the old fashioned kind of hose. The kind with the reinforced tops and seams running down the back. They were the kind women wore back in World War II. The kind all of the early pinups wore. Except they were royal blue instead of brown. Then he saw the panties and garter belt. They were so skimpy and blue like the hose, he almost overlooked them in his excitement. Picking them up, a stronger shiver of excitement shot through his throbbing cock when he saw the black lace edging running down the split in the center of the panties. Jeez, they were crotchless. His mother actually wore crotchless panties? He had thought that only nymphomaniacs or women like that wore crotchless panties. His opinion of his mother's virtue continued in its rapid and deleterious nosedive. Then he asked himself why was he surprised that she wore crotchless panties when she hadn't worn any to the party. It was just too much to sort out in his present frenzied state of sexual excitement. Dropping the lingerie to the bed, it only took David seconds to strip his clothes off clothes. . Looking over at the mirror, he admired the way his big, heavy cock lolled about indolently every time he moved. Turning back to the bed, he shivered with eager anticipation. What should he put on first, he wondered. Then he picked one of the hose. Making it ready to slip on, he found it easier to roll into his fist than the panty hose because he only had one leg to deal with. Then he quickly slipped it over his foot and slowly pulled it up his leg. The soft, slick material easily slid over his skin caressing it with its clinging tightness. Pulling on the other hose, he smiled as he noticed that his cock was already rising to the occasion Then with the shimmering blue hose on, he ran his hands down his legs, reveling in the silky smoothness of the nylons. Reaching down, picked up the mesh panties. Looking at them, he saw that the waistband was black while the material of panties themselves was a sheer blue mush trimmed with black lace. Shaking them out, he hurriedly pulled them up his hairy legs and around his hips. As he pulled the waistband up over his cock, it caught momentarily. Then inching the panties higher, he watched his cock flop out of the lacy black opening dissecting the front of the panties. The flowery frills bordering the centerline slit in the panties now formed two borders, running down each side of his heavy, hardening cock. Another shiver of excitement ran through his cock and it slowly struggled to lift it big purple head. Then he grabbed the matching garter belt and wrapped it around his firm, hard belly. Quickly fastening it around his waist, he pulled the long, black straps down to the top of the hose and hooked them on one by one until all four of the thongs were attached. Looking into the mirror, he laughed when he saw the seams running down the back of his hose were crooked. Imagine what his friends at school would think if they could see him now. The school's star running back, running around in women's panties and hose. I bet they would crap in their pants, he roared. Then watching in the mirror, he reached down and straightened the backseam of the hose as well as he could. Staring at his reflection in mirror, he felt another flutter of excitement. Not bad, he thought. Sexy, if he had to say so himself. The blue color of the hose matched the blue of his eyes. And it almost hid the hairs on his legs and the frilly blue panties and garters served as an erotic back-drop for his jutting prick, sticking out and bobbing up and down with each movement he made. Grinning at himself, he turned first one way then the other, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Then he had a brainstorm. His mother had a Polaroid camera in her room. Why not take a couple of pictures of himself. Hardly able to contain his eagerness, he bounded down to her room. He was so excited, his prick jutted straight up in the air as he searched through her drawers for the camera. Then he found it. Examining it, he saw that it had four unexposed pictures left. Looking around for a place to set it, he saw the top of her dresser was the perfect height. Quickly adjusting the distance and brightness, he set the camera down and flicked the timer switch. Quickly stepping back away from the camera, he posed until the camera flashed. Then another pose and another flash. He repeated the act until all four of the pictures lay on her dresser top. Smiling to himself, he spread them out. Front view with his cock pointing directly at the camera, side view with his cock sticking out and up, other side view showing the same thing and then rear view showing his firm, hard butt bisected by the frilly blue straps of her garter. Then as he watched them process, he had another inspiration. Why not leave them for his mother? After all, she had picked out his ensemble. Wouldn't she want to know what he looked like in it? But wait a minute, he paused. It was his mother. She wasn't some teeny bopper he was trying to impress. Or some hooker he was showing off in front of. How could he take a picture of himself with a hard on and show it to his mother? She was his mother! But, she had put the lingerie in his room, hadn't she?. What the heck, he would just be showing her what he looked like in the clothes she had left for him. What would be wrong with that? Wouldn't she want to see what he looked like in what she had picked for him? Why, she had said he looked nice in her pantyhose. Maybe she derived some bizarre sense of excitement in seeing men dressed up in women's clothes. Or, seeing her son dressed in her underwear. He had finally convinced himself. Waiting for another couple of minutes to make sure the pictures were dry, he opened her drawer and solemnly laid them on top of a pile of her panties. He slowly closed the drawer and put the camera away. Walking toward the door, he stopped. Then, with a perverse grin, he walked over to the writing table where his mother kept her stationery. Leafing through the several different types, he found one with little hearts across the top. Picking up her pen, he scribbled out a quick note. Still smiling, he folded the note, opened her drawer and put on top of the pictures. Easing the drawer shut, he turned and then hurried out of her room. He didn't want to get caught in her room a second time, although getting caught by her had had some strange and exciting consequences. He wished he could be there to see her reaction when she found the in her lingerie drawer. But, what more appropriate place for them... Friday for Gloria crawled by at the speed of a dead snail. She was totally useless. She couldn't think about anything but SEX. Would Saturday never get here, she thought as she opened the door to her office and looked out. door. "Amy, I'm going to leave my door open," told her secretary. "My office is stuffy." "Do you want me to call maintenance?" "No, I'll be fine." Strolling back to her desk, she sat down and pretended to be working. Then looking up, she watched Reggie Phipps, the head lawyer of their firm, walk over to one of the secretary's desks. What kind of dick would he have, she found herself wondering. It would probably be big and thick. Probably six or seven inches long, and so big around it would barely fit inside her aching cunt. Then as she absent-mindedly stared at him, she saw him looking at her. Suddenly, she realized she had been staring at his crotch. God, she thought to herself as she blushed and looked back down at the brief she was working. I'm going crazy. If I don't have sex soon, I'm going to have to rape some poor man. Just then, Don Morris came walking down the hallway toward her office. Her eyes dipped to his crotch and followed it as he came closer and closer. Was that an obvious bulge in his pants or was her overactive imagination creating one? His penis would be long and thin, she surmised. Eight or nine inches long, but skinny, just like him. What would it feel like to get fucked with a pencil dick, she wondered. But at the moment, I'll settle for any kind of dick, she complained to herself. Then he turned and continued down the hallway away from her office. Then Brad stopped by her office. Stopping at her door, he leaned against it. "Still on for handball tomorrow," he asked her innocently. Her eyes immediately dropped to his crotch and saw that there was a distinct bulge there. She didn't have to guess what his cock was like, because she had already had her hands on it. And soon, she would feel it inside her, she thought as a shiver of expectation ran through her. "Huh?" she asked him, shaking her head and trying to clear the image of his stiff, hard cock from her brain. "Are you okay?" "What? Oh, sure," she laughed drunkenly, "just tired." "Not too tired to play hand ball tomorrow, I hope," he reiterated. "Oh, No, never," she laughed neurotically, "Wild horses couldn't keep me away." "Okay," he laughed back at her, "I'll be waiting for your call." "Okay." He turned and walked away. Under her desk, she spread her legs and let her hand wander up her thigh and onto her panties. Running her fingers down the front of her panties, she could feel the wetness of her excitement seeping through them. God, she thought, I'll be dribbling on the floor if I don't stop fantasizing about cocks. Pulling her hand back up on the desk, she slapped her legs back together just as Phipps walked into her office. "Uh, Gloria," he said softly, leaning down so that Amy couldn't hear him. "I was wondering if you would like to come in and help me with the Clayton deposition tomorrow?" "Tomorrow?" She smiled up at him. "Why, yes," he smiled back at her, "there won't be anyone else here and we wouldn't be interrupted." "Why, Reggie, "she blinked, smiling demurely, "just the two of us? All alone in the office? All by ourselves?" "Uh, yes, " he said as his confident smile broadened. "Well," she said, pausing for effect, "I would have to check with Donald." "Oh, yes, yes, of course," he huffed, stepping back, the certainty gone from his smile. "But," she smiled up at him innocently as she secretly ran her fingers up the side of his leg, "I will let you know. Sometimes, he has to go out of town for the weekend." "Oh, my, why, yes, yes, you do that," he laughed, hope returning to his voice, "you do that." "I will," she laughed as he turned to walk away, "I will." "In fact," he smiled and winked, "why don't you take off now and see if you can find a way to convince him to let you come in tomorrow." "I think I'll do that," she smiled tiredly. "I think I'll do just that." Too bad, Reggie, she thought to herself, as she closed the brief on her desk. You're just not my type. I like them young and hard. Not old and shriveled like yours probably is. But, maybe I'll just play you along to see how much I can get out of you, before I break the bad news to you. Grinning at her little joke, she got up and told Amy she was calling it a day. Leaving the office, she made a bee line to their neighborhood bar where she had a couple of drinks to quieten the clamoring voices inside of her head that were pleading for sex Then, feeling a little tipsy and bolder, she carefully drove home... "David, are you sun-burned?" His father asked him as he sat down at the dinner table. "Uh, Yeah, I guess, uh, a, uh, little," he lied, stammering. "Well, it sure looks like it," Donald said. Looking over his father's shoulder, he saw his mother smile at him and wink knowingly. What would his parents say if they knew that he was wearing his mother's underwear under his sweats and socks, he wondered as he felt the lace tickle the shaft of his hard prick. "Well, I'm afraid that the two of you are up to your own devices this weekend," his father said, setting his paper down. "Why?" Gloria asked coldly as she set a platter of food on the table. "I've got to go upstate to evaluate some of our sites this weekend." Donald told her, "I've got to head out first thing in the morning. I won't be back until Monday night." "Oh," she said indifferently, walking back over to the stove. Dave couldn't help following the voluptuous sway of her hips with his eyes as she walked across the room. "David and I might do some shopping," she said innocently. "Fine," Donald said icily. "I think David needs some new underwear," she went on calmly, "Don't you, dear?" Dave's mouth dropped open with surprise before he could catch himself. "You don't have any other plans do you, David, dear?" She asked him. "Uh, I, uh, uh, no, okay I guess," he stuttered, turning beet red again. "Boy, what has gotten into you?" Donald asked. "You're as red a beet." "Uh, I don't, uh, know," he blundered on, his head spinning with excitement, "I think I must be coming down with something." Or it might be Mom's panties tickling my cock, he said to himself. "Maybe you ought to take something for it and go to bed," his father told him. "I think I might," David said, wiping the sweat off his brow, "right after dinner." "I think that is a good idea," his mother beamed in. "Maybe you should forego our shopping trip and stay in bed all of this weekend." The innuendo of her remark tore into his brain like a kamikaze attack. Was he going crazy or was he just imagining it? What did she mean by staying in bed all weekend? Surely she didn't mean what it sounded like she meant. No, it couldn't. His overheated brain was just working overtime. But still... "Uh, uh, I guess, uh, so..." "I can go shopping for you," she said quietly. "Well, whatever you decide," Donald said as he started eating. David's head was reeling but he somehow made it through dinner... Gloria finished up the dishes and slipped off her apron. Smiling to herself, she reflected on her son's discomfiture at supper. It was a good thing she had only had a couple of drinks, she laughed. She could still hear the excitement in his voice when she had insinuated that he stay in bed all weekend. She could just imagine what must have been going on in his head. She didn't know what had come over her. This was her son and she was toying with him in a most unmotherly fashion. She had actually been flirting with him, insinuating that she might actually go so far as to... No, she couldn't even bring herself to think such an appalling thing, regardless of her state of mind. Stopping at the mirror in the hall, she saw that her face was now as red as his had been. It was burning with shame, humiliation, and stimulation. My God, what is happening to me, she asked herself, as she felt another wave of heat spread out from the barren wasteland between her legs. She still wouldn't concede to the faint glimmer of perversion that was trying to work itself to the surface of her consciousness. Her face still flushed with excitement, she hurried back into the kitchen and quickly splashed her face with water. Then downed a glass of ice water hoping she wouldn't have to take a cold shower to dampen the fire growing inside her. She was just over excited about her date with Brad tomorrow. That was it, she thought as she dried her face. Finally, she composed herself enough to head up the stairs. Walking into her bedroom, she saw that Donald was already in bed watching television. "You're in bed early," she said, walking over to her dresser. "I've got to get up early tomorrow," he yawned. "Oh, yeah, that's right, I forgot you were leaving tomorrow." "I'll just be a few minutes." "That's nice of you," he smirked. As she unbuttoned her blouse, a strange feeling came over her. Looking into the mirror, she saw she was blushing again. What had it come to, she wondered. She felt a strange sense of queasiness undressing in front of Donald. She felt like she was undressing in front of a stranger. A stranger she was rapidly growing to hate. Trying to shake her squeamishness, she quickly stripped her skirt down her lovely, long, legs and laid it on top of her dresser. Wanting to hurry and leave, she quickly pulled open her lingerie drawer. She started to reach inside for her night gown when she saw a piece of paper and some pictures. "Oh," she blurted out in shock. "What's wrong?" Donald asked "Huh," she blushed. "Are you okay?" "OH! It's nothing," she laughed nervously, "I just jammed my finger." "Oh," he yawned. "Don't get up, I'll be fine," she said sarcastically. "I won't," he growled back her. "I'll be out of here in a minute," she told him, quickly pulling out her robe and slipping it on. Then with a furtive glance at Donald, she picked up the note and pictures and slipped them into the pocket of her skirt. Then picking up her dress, she hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Laying her dress down, she looked into the mirror and saw the face of a stranger looking back at her. A stranger whose face was a brilliant crimson . The face of a woman who had changed so much in the last few days, she no longer recognized herself. Splashing water on her face again, she tried to cool it down, but still a deep ruddy glow remained as she dried her face off. Then with an agonizing shudder, she looked down at her dress. Afraid to look at the pictures, she quickly slipped them out and stuck them into a book she had left in the bathroom earlier. Flipping the light off, she walked out of the bathroom. "I'm going to read a little while," she told Donald. "Fine," Donald said, not even bothering to look over at her. Leaving the room, she hurried down to the guest room and closed the door behind her. As she locked the door, she saw that her hands were trembling. Taking a deep breath to try and calm herself, she sat down. Looking down, she saw that her hands were still shaking as she tremulously opened the book. Trying to ignore the pictures for the moment, she unfolded the note and read it: 'Thank you for the surprise. Here are some for you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed my surprise. Love, David.' Holding up the first picture, her eyes widened in shock. "Oh, My Lord," she blurted out. She couldn't believe it. Her mind was spinning like an oncoming tornado. She didn't know what to do. David stood facing the camera, dressed in her panties with his big, hard penis pointing directly at the camera. No wonder Dave had been so embarrassed at supper, she thought as she as she slipped the first picture under the next one. My God, he was brazen, she thought herself as her eyes bored into the second picture. But the shock was lessening, and by the time she examined the third picture, she realized that seeing him dressed in her underwear was giving her a perverse thrill. He looked so, so masculine, but in such a strange way with his big, hard cock sticking out of her crotchless panties. The flames inside of her pussy were rapidly burning out of control. Then with a numbing shock, she admitted it to herself. HER PUSSY WAS ON FIRE AND SHE WANTED HER OWN SON TO FUCK HER AND FUCK HER AND FUCK HER UNTIL HE PUT IT OUT. There, now she had admitted it. Well are you happy now, she asked herself. She had finally stooped to the lowest of lows. She wanted to dress her own son up in women's undies and fuck his balls off. And not just any woman's undies, her undies. Undies she picked out for him. Her hand shot down to her pussy and she quickly began to play with herself as she pored over the pictures again and again. Finally, she stuffed the pictures under her pillow and flipped off the light. What was she going to do, she wondered as she tried to fall asleep. She couldn't really have sexual intercourse with her own son. That, that was really out of the question. It was too morbid to even consider. Yet at the same time, it was so perversely exciting, she wished she acquiesce and let it happen. Finally, she felt herself drifting off to sleep with the screaming voice of her conscience shrieking out its outrage... Suddenly, she was awake. The room was dark and above her head several devilish apparitions swirled about aimlessly. She couldn't move. She must be paralyzed, she thought. Then she felt the tight bands of burning metal painfully biting into her ankles and wrists. Gasping in shock, she looked down and saw she was naked and chained to the bed. And her legs were spread apart, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Flinging her head from side to side, trying to see who was responsible for doing this to her, she screamed out her rage. There was no one to see or hear her. The room was empty except for her and the whirling dervishes above her head. Staring up at the ghostly apparitions circling above her, she was shocked to see that all of them were shaped like cocks. Then one came spinning down and floated just above her face. Ridiculously, she saw cock's head looked like Donald's face. "What, what do you want?" She screamed out, fighting against the manacles holding her pinioned to the bed. "Who, Me?" the floating prick came back at her. "I want nothing. It's you that wanted too much." With that, the dick shot back up and joined the other pricks circling above her head. Then she watched in horror as a huge, fat, shriveled cock came gliding down out of the darkness toward her. She instantly recognized the face of Reggie glaring back at her. "Reggie, what do you want?" She asked, feeling stupid talking to the hovering penis. "Too old and shriveled for you, am I?" he leered. Then right before her eyes, the soft, shriveled shaft of his body began to swell and swell. Finally, it was as big around as a telephone pole. And almost as long. "This better?" he laughed sardonically , slowly backing down her body until his the massive swollen cockhead was just above her aching cunt. "Maybe I'm enough cock to satisfy you, now. But, maybe not, no one seems capable of doing that." "Oh, God, No," she screamed as she watched on in horror. Then the massive cock, lowered its monstrous head down toward her cunt. He was so huge, he would split her apart if he kept entered her. "Please, Reggie, please don't," she pleaded with him. Then out of the darkness another dick came rocketing down. This one was long and sharp, shaped like a pencil. Suddenly, the long, sharp prick drove itself into the thick, puffy shaft of the other cock's bloated hugeness. "Oh, Don, thank you," she gushed as the room was filled with the sound of air hissing out of the gaping hole in the side of the other cock. "See, even us pencil dicks are good for something," he smirked at her as he shot back up into the swirling circle of cocks. "Sorry, Reggie," she whispered as she watched the shriveled remains of Reggie's cock struggle back up into the air. When the next one came slithering down, she knew immediately that it was Bart. Hard, thick and virile, it came to a stop just above her weeping slit. "Please, yes, please," she pleaded as she watched him lower the purple hood of his pretty cockhead down to her pussy. Delighting in the feel of his hard, smooth cockhead rubbing up and down the drenched furrow of her hungry cunt, she begged him to put himself inside her. "Put it in me, please, Brad," she urged him. But he didn't, he just continued to run his head round and round her pussy, teasing and toying with her. "PLEASE!" She screamed out with frustrated urgency, "PUT IT IN ME." Then she became aware of a loud slurping sound above her head. Looking up into the darkness above her, she saw a big, beautiful penis chasing the others. It was faster than the others, and it was easily caught them, and to her horror, loudly devoured them one by one until the only one left was Brad. Looking down her body, she saw the Brad cock looking up at the other cock and shivering with fear as he waited for the grand penis to spy him. Then, the beautiful penis came floating down from the ceiling. She had never seen such a beautiful cock. Resplendent in thousands of shades of purples, pinks, and blues, it was strangely draped in frills and lace and all sorts of feminine apparel. Then it swooped down and swallowed the Brad cock with one mighty gulp. Then it slowly turned and glided up to her face. "Oh, My, God," she gasped when she saw who it was. It was David. Her son, David. He had taken all of the other cocks from her. Now there was only one cock left to please her. One. Him. Then slowly, magically, his prick-like body transformed into a human shape. Then he was over her. Then she felt his hardness slowly slide down deep into her waiting wetness... Suddenly, she awoke, bathed in sweat. It had been a dream, she groaned. A fucking dream. And just when she was about to get fucked, even if it was her son that was about to fuck her. But it had seemed so real, she thought rubbing her wrists that still ached from the tightness of the shackles that had bound her to the bed. Was it an omen? Or was it a sign? Or was it just the fevered ruminations of a crazy woman? Or just wishful thinking? Slowly, she sat up. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was only nine o'clock. She had only been asleep for less than an hour. Funny, she felt like she had slept forever, but the ever present fire in her pussy was still there. Only worse. The eroticism of her dream had only intensified her need. Slowly, she opened the door and was shocked to see every light in the house was on. No, wait, It was daylight streaming through the windows and filling the house with light. God, had she slept through the whole night? Then she realized that Saturday had finally arrived. The day of her resurrection from sexually dead was here at last. Rushing down to her bedroom, she peeked inside and saw that Donald had already gone. Remembering her dream, she quietly tiptoed down the hallway to David's room. Feeling a flush of excitement, she peered into his room. He was lying on his bed asleep. But he was naked and his big, soft cock immediately caught her attention. A shiver of expectation ran through her as she reached down and ran her finger through the furrow of her wet, aching cunt. Slipping away from his room, she hurried back down to her room. Suddenly, it was major decision time. She had to make the choice that would decide the course of the rest of her life. Should she choose the path of least resistance and rush into Brad's arms or should she risk everything and go where her heart and soul were pulling her? No matter which path she chose, there was no guarantee that she would find gratification. Going down the easy path, she might find fulfillment, she might not. It might be a rerun of her marriage. Then she would be left high and dry again. If she chose the path of danger and uncertainty, who knew where it would lead? But the thought of risking it all, for the thrill and excitement that illicit love might bring exhilarated her. The depraved wickedness of forbidden sex sent chills of anticipation racing up and down her spine. By choosing her son, it would be much easier to try other kinds of weird and kinky sex because they would already be a part of the weirdest and kinkiest sex possible. INCEST! And finally, there was the heady sensation of control. After all, she was his mother. And didn't sons always obey their mothers. She would have much more dominion over him than some unknown lover. Suddenly, she felt herself break out in goosebumps as she realized she had made her choice... Picking up the telephone, she slowly dialed Brad's number. The phone only rang once before he picked it up. "Hello, uh, is this Gloria?" "Yes," she said demurely, "it's Gloria. I assume this is Brad." "It sure is," he blurted out happily. "Brad," she said softly, "I'm afraid that I have some bad news." "Oh, no, don't tell me. You can't come this weekend," he groaned. "I'm afraid so," she said. "Why?" "My son," she mumbled, "my son isn't feeling well, and, and I have to stay home with him." "Damn," she heard him curse, "I was really looking forward to seeing you again." "I know," she went on, "but I'm afraid it can't be helped. Things happen." "Okay, I understand. Maybe some other time." "We'll see," she said, realizing that it would never happen." "Okay," he answered, his voice seeming to echo her thoughts, "we'll see." She sadly hung up the telephone. If only she could have them both, she thought, but she was so consumed with need she couldn't see beyond this moment in time. But before she took that final, fatal step, she had one last ritual to perform... Shaking her head to clear it, she quickly dressed. On her way out, she stopped by David's room and checked on him one more time. He hadn't moved since she last saw him. Smiling, she wondered what he would think if he knew what she had planned for him. Would he be as ecstatic as she was? Well, she would soon find out, she said to herself as she turned and hurried down the stairs and left the house... Around ten o'clock, David finally woke up. Lying in bed listening to the silence of the house, he reached down and began to slowly stroke his limp prick. It had become such a habit, he didn't even realize that he was doing it. Were his parents up yet, he wondered. Then he remembered that his father was gone. He and his mother were spending the weekend alone. Just the thought of spending time alone with her made his head spin. Especially with all that had gone on between them during the past week. Suddenly he found himself hard. God, if only, he thought to himself, unable to even finish the sentence. Rolling over, he slipped out of bed and threw on his robe. Padding out into the hall, he quietly sneaked down to his mother's room. Slowly peering around her door, he looked inside. It was empty. Crestfallen, he trudged back to his room. Finding her room empty had saddened him, depressed him for some reason. Maybe he was expecting to find her laying there waiting for him with her legs spread open and ready. But finding her room empty, sent any hope that he had spinning down in a death spiral. Oh, well, he thought, maybe she had some errands to run. Stepping into his room, he let his robe fall to the floor as he headed for the shower... Gloria drove two blocks past the "Sensuous Owl", before she pulled into a parking space. Looking around suspiciously, she knew that this part of town was no place for a unaccompanied woman. But it was daylight, and after reconnoitering the area she saw no one that seemed threatening. Stepping out of the car, she locked it and quickly walked back up toward the store. She was wearing a long coat with a scarf around her neck and big, round sunglasses that hid almost all over her pretty, heart shaped face. Not even Donald would have recognized her, if he walked past her. She had shopped in the store several times for her female toys, but today she was looking for something different. Something wild and bizarre. Just thinking about it sent a shiver of excitement up her spine. Stepping inside the store, she hurried over to the counter where it was. The clerk, a fat balding man in his fifties, grinned crudely as she pointed it out to him. "So ya think that will please yer lady friend?" He asked as she handed him two twenty dollar bills. "Now that is none of your business, is it," she retorted, sweeping the sack off the counter and heading for the door. "Hey, lady. Your change," the clerk hollered as she opened the door. "Keep it for your boy friend," she laughed, stepping outside. Clutching the bag to her breast, she hurried back to her car. Unlocking the door, she tossed the sack into the passenger's seat. Sliding under the steering wheel, she started the car. Quickly, she pulled away from the curb and sped down the street headed for the mall. She had never felt such excitement. Such freedom. Tossing her head back, she laughed out loud. "Poor Donald," she chortled, "too stupid to find the real me. He'll never know what he missed." Turning into the mall parking lot, she quickly parked her car and took off the giant sunglasses. Stepping out of the car, she opened the trunk, Unraveled the thick scarf from around her neck and dropped it and the coat inside. Slamming the trunk shut, she happily skipped across the parking lot and into the mall. The hot, burning itch inside her pussy was threatening to engulf her as she hurried inside frederick's of Hollywood. She feverishly went about trying to find something that would please David. There was just so much stuff to choose from. But luckily, most of it was made strictly for women with bra tops and all so it made her job a little easier. Finally, after almost half an hour of looking, she picked him out a pair of black crotchless string panties and a pair of black lace top, stay-up fishnet hose. Then as an after thought, she bought him a pair of black satin bows to dress up the hose. As she saw a case of all different kinds of pantyhose. Remembering how sexy he had looked in her panty hose and decided to splurge and buy him some more. She went crazy and picked out a pair with scooped out front and back, a pair of sexy suspender pantyhose and a pair of one-piece stretch, garter panty hose. All of them had openings in the front and back. After selecting his trousseau for their illicit nuptial, she shopped around for hers. Finally selecting a frilly red basque outfit with all the accouterments, she took them up to the saleslady. Asking her to wrap David's gifts, she browsed around for a while as she waited. Suddenly, she saw another item that struck her fancy. Quickly, she strode down the mall to another store. Then after a brief consultation with the clerk, she hurried back to fredrick's. Strolling over to the rack containing the item she wanted, she looked at several of them before finally making her decision. Telling the clerk what she wanted, she ignored the clerk's raised eyebrows and puzzled expression. Finally, it was almost noon when she left the mall. She was as jittery as an old maid on her first date as she drove home. Stopping the car in front of the house, she wondered if she had made a huge mistake. What if she had been all wrong about David. What if he didn't like kinky sex? But there were a million what ifs and she knew that worried about all of them, nothing would ever happen and the gnawing ache between her legs would eventually consume her and drive her crazy. Taking a deep breath, she threw open her door and crawled out of her car... The End of Part Two (On Collision Course) JUST YOU WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER...YOU FUCKING WON'T BELIEVE IT... BUT NOT EVEN THE BARON KNOWS WHERE THIS PUPPY WILL END... HAHAHAHAHA......................... The Baron...(;-{) -- Double for Nothing!! Tricks for Free!!! www.mrdouble.com Be There.....