You've Got Mail
She paused and looked up at him, and then at her hands. Reality suddenly came flooding back and she pulled herself away with a gasp.
"Oh god, what am I doing? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I-I gotta go."
Gemma stayed in her bedroom until she heard her son go out. When she emerged she was shaking and wobbled over to the kitchen to pour herself some vodka. How did she let things get so screwy? She felt like she was losing her mind and decided that if that were the case she certainly wasn't going to do it sober.
The first glass went back neat and the shaking stopped. The second slowed her thoughts and calmed the stampeding beat of her heart. After the fourth and fifth she figured she'd best slow down and moved to the fridge to find a mixer.
"Oh fudge." She said when the only thing she could find was a bottle of cola belonging to her son. She looked at it for a few seconds then thought fuck it. While we share the same roof then we can share the same things, she thought. Who cares if I steal a little drink from my son's cock?
"Cock." She tried to correct herself and failed. "My son's cock." Her head was swimming but she was sure that sounded right. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long swig. Then, forgetting to add the mixer to her glass, she placed the bottle back in the fridge and returned to her vodka. As she sat down she burped quietly and giggled.
"Hee hee." She said drunkenly. "My son's cock tastes like coke!" She looked at her reflection in her glass and tried to smile encouragingly. "See? That's not so bad, he tastes fine!"
Her reflection looked back at her with wide eyes. "And he was big too." It told her.
She nodded solemnly. "Yes I know." She hiccupped and clapped a hand over her mouth. She giggled again. "See you later."
She retired to the living room and lay on the sofa while she continued drinking. She slipped a hand in her panties and masturbated lazily.
A few hours later the front door slammed. Gemma snorted in her sleep. She was still on the sofa with a hand between her legs.
Gemma gave a startled little yelp and fell to the floor. She squinted and whispered drunkenly. "Benny, is that you?"
"Mom? You okay?" Her son walked into the room and she broke into a stupid grin.
"Hey, its Mister Cock-a-cola!" She shuffled up to him on her hands and knees and pawed at his crotch. "Its okay." She whispered conspiratorially. "You can read your silly letter. The mail man won't even know."
And then she passed out.
Light streamed in from behind the curtains and Gemma flinched. She turned onto her side and pulled the duvet up over her head. In the darkness she slumbered trying to shake off her hangover. Her vodka-fueled dreams had been vivid. The events and thoughts and fears of the previous week blurring into a strange sequence of images:
She was on her hands and knees beside her neighbor Sarah Matthews. They were both naked. They were looking up at a disembodied red light. It flashed red and then green. Both women immediately started tearing into envelopes in front of them. Sarah opened her's first and waved it in the air. Gemma followed a few seconds later and retrieved a folded letter. Before she could read it however it was snatched from her hand. She looked up to see the old man from the post office stood over her.
"What does it say? What does it say?" she pleaded up at him.
He raised an eyebrow at her and in his best game show voice said:
"Well it looks like we have a winner folks!"
She heard some applause and a spotlight opened up on her neighbor. Sarah Matthews leapt to her feet and jumped about with joy. The old post office clerk leaned in and pulled a hand around the woman's waist. He handed her the letter and she read it eagerly. Her eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. Around them the audience burst into laughter.
"I think Mrs Matthews finally gets it folks." The old man was saying.
"But what does it say?" Gemma begged "Please I can't take this anymore. I have to know!" Her voice was drowned out by the noise of the audience.
"Before we show Mrs Matthews to her star prize, lets give a round of applause to our runner-up." He flashed a winning smile down at Gemma, who still remained on her knees. Gemma was assaulted by an eruption of noise as the audience clapped. When it died down he continued. "Of course, not even our runner-ups leave empty handed. Tell her what she's won Ashley."
The old man looked over at a cute teenage girl, her neighbor's daughter. She was topless and walking toward them in red panties with a matching garter belt and stockings. There were hoots and wolf whistles from the crowd.
"Well John," the young girl began, "we've got an extra special treat in store for Mrs Young today." Her eyes sparkled teasingly. "It's a lifetime supply of ... Cock-a-Cola!"
Gemma's eyes widened in surprise as two bottles of cola appeared in Ashley's hands.
"Congratulations Mrs Young!" the girl continued gleefully.
Gemma's mouth opened and closed wordlessly before croaking one final time. "But what does the letter say?"
She never found out as without warning the sexy girl began furiously shaking up the bottles and before Gemma knew what was happening she was being sprayed head to foot by cold sticky foam. She coughed and spluttered in shock before having to close her eyes. She could hear the audience laughing and clapping and she didn't know what else to do except sit there and take it.
"Thirsty Mrs Young?" Ashley's sweet voice whispered in her ear. "I hope so because there's a lot more coming! Open wide..."
Gemma obeyed, felt helpless to do otherwise as a spout was worked between her supple pink lips. She clamped down around it as more sticky fluid erupted.
"Mmm mmm mmm mmmm." She swallowed desperately and tried to keep up.
Around her she could hear the audience chanting.
"CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG."
She was swallowing as fast as she could but still the fluid kept coming. Only now it was becoming thicker, more goopy. She flicked her tongue up against the tip expecting to feel a hard plastic ridge. What she felt however was not plastic although it certainly had a ridge.
Her skin broke out into goose bumps when she heard the very familiar groan. She pried her eyes open and looked up.
Ben stood above her holding a breakfast tray. She was in her bed and it was late morning. She could smell coffee.
"Morning sleeping beauty." He smiled. "I thought you might like breakfast in bed?"
"Thanks sweetheart." She sat up quickly and then groaned loudly. "Ohhh my head. What happened last night?"
"We-e-e-ll," her son began, "you single-handedly finished off most of the vodka, and then you danced around naked in the street."
His mom paled and grasped her throat loosely. "I did what? I didn't did I?"
"Naah." He grinned.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?" she pouted at him.
"Just a little." He admitted. "You really don't remember all that much?"
"I remember doing some shopping." She offered. Ben laughed and she winced. "Please honey. Shhhh."
"Okay, I'll see you later mom." He whispered and kissed her forehead. She looked at his back as he walked out of her room. Something was nagging at her. Something important. But what was it?
"Ben." She called behind him in a meek little voice. "Has -- has the mail man been yet?"
Her son smiled secretively over his shoulder and closed the door behind him. She was left in silence and the rapidly fading memory of her dream.
Twenty minutes later she stood under her shower, her head thrown back and her body being soothed by hot jets. Now that she had some food in her stomach and she was a little less dehydrated, her headache was starting to ease again. Her thoughts were beginning to become a little clearer and she was beginning to feel halfway normal.
But that little bubble of uncertainty was still there. That tiny bud of fear that maybe, just maybe, she still wasn't entirely in control. The previous day was still a blur. She could remember her impromptu shopping spree but beyond that...
"Oh why did I get so drunk?" she moaned.
She closed her eyes and let the warm water cascade over her. There was something so familiar about it that she couldn't quite place. Some memory trying to resurface.
She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully but the memory wouldn't come.
After drying herself off she emerged once more from her private bathroom, sat naked on her bed and finally forced herself to think about the obvious topic she'd been avoiding.
"So," she whispered, "the mail has arrived."
Her mind wandered back to the day Ben had promised to prove his mind-controlling abilities to her. And, of course, the way in which he said he would do it. She'd been so crazy-horny since then, which was totally out of character for her, and she still wasn't sure what had happened to her.
But time was running out wasn't it? And she had to decide what she believed: was all her odd behavior of her own doing? Had she simply opened up a long repressed part of herself? Logic and good sense told her that this must be true. That there could be no other explanation. No explanation that remained firmly in the realms of possibility that is.
She absently slipped into a new set of red panties. They were tiny and frilly, barely covering her shaved snatch. Lost deep in thought she pulled on some matching thigh high stockings and attached a garter belt.
Did she believe it was possible? That her son could really be controlling her mind?
But how could he? How was such a thing possible? Surely it was nothing other than some weird joke that simply got out of hand? After all, he hadn't mentioned it again had he? Everything else that had happened since then had been all her own doing hadn't it? He hadn't even been around half the time. She'd consciously made all her own choices since then; there'd been no real sense of coercion. She had wanted to do all those things.
But what if he had MADE her want to do those things? What if he was making her question it right now?
She shook her head in exasperation. This was crazy! She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled ruefully.
"Sorry kid." She told her reflection. "I just don't have the answers. Still ... we do look kind of sexy this morning eh?" She slipped a finger inside the crotch of her panties and gently teased her clit. "At least if this is going to happen, we're going to be looking damn hot."
She giggled nervously and when she gazed at the mirror again she saw herself on her knees in front of her son. She was still topless and wearing exactly the same underwear. She watched with distraction as her reflection fed her son's thick cock into her mouth and gently nursed on him. Ben was standing completely naked, with his hands behind his head and a confident, contented smile on his face.
She remembered what he'd said about wanting to make Sarah Matthews eat her own daughter's pussy and thought how much hornier this little scene would make him. Imagine that, a hungry mother gobbling away on her son's juicy cock? When she said it like that, well, she had to admit it did kinda sound hot didn't it? In a forbidden, secretive sort of way.
She was masturbating frantically as she imagined what it might be like to chew down on his hard meat. To accept that she had no choice in the matter, to relinquish all control and suck him off with wild abandon...
But what she was fantasizing about was impossible wasn't it? No one could really control someone else's mind. She realized then that she'd spent so much time and energy fighting it, that she hadn't really given herself a chance to properly consider the scenario. When she thought about it, it was a pretty sexy fantasy wasn't it? Surely there was no harm in indulging herself in the privacy of her own mind? No one would know. She decided to finish masturbating properly this time, and then she would go and talk some sense into her imaginative son.
Mind control indeed? She scoffed.
She gave a little start as Ben suddenly called from the living room.
"Hey mom? Could you come down here for a moment? There's something I need to show you."
Gemma's heart stopped cold. This was it. Try as she might, even with all that inner dialogue and discussion, try as she might she still couldn't shake off that little bubble of unease. She stood up in a daze and walked downstairs.
Two things struck her instantly as she entered her lounge. Both were fairly obvious. The first, she was still topless. The second, her son was completely naked.
"Oh, uh, uh..." she stammered and tried to cover herself up.
Ben wasn't so bashful. "Excellent," he grinned and leered at her tits, "you're ready."
Gemma blushed and couldn't drag her eyes away from his cock, which twitched and then steadily began to fill out until it bobbed in front of her.
"Ben wait." She whispered meekly as he pulled out the envelope. He paused and gave her a calculating stare.
"Don't you want to know?" he teased. "After all this waiting? Don't you want to know if it's true?"
She realised that she did. She really did. And then she could put all this fear and uncertainty behind her. She nodded once, gave up trying to conceal her breasts and sat on the edge of the sofa. Ben shuffled closer, standing tall above her. His cock maybe a foot from her face. She watched it carefully as her son tore into the envelope. It didn't look so bad, she thought, quite tasty really.
Ben cleared his throat and held the letter in his hands. He looked down at it once and then at her. His face broke into a great big confident grin.
"You know, I've dreamed of this moment ever since I learned out how to do this. But I never thought I could go through with it. I was always afraid that maybe it wouldn't work on you. That somehow you might be immune. But I'm not afraid anymore. No, not anymore. And oh boy mom, this is going to be even better than Sarah and Ashley Matthews. Oh boy oh boy!"
And with that simple self-assured statement Gemma's heart sank. "Oh my god! Its true isn't it?" she suddenly blurted, not even waiting for him to read the contents of the letter. "You really can control peoples minds." She felt her blood run cold.
"Yes its true." He replied. "I told you."
"Then-then I haven't been going crazy?" She felt some relief at that. The very worst thing to think was that this had all been of her own doing. That she had played mind games with herself all along. Games that had eventually led her here. To this moment.
"No, not crazy at all." He cooed. "Don't you see? Its okay to give into your urges, its not your fault."
"Oh thank god!" She sank to her knees in submission. If this was going to happen then why not play it out? Why make it worse by fighting? Why not let it happen just like she'd imagined?
"Please can I suck you off now Ben? It's driving me crazy and I just want to get it over with."
"Is that what you want?"
"Its all I can think about." She admitted. "And you promised."
"No." His reply came firm and sharp. She rocked back on her heels with surprise.
"No," he explained, "I didn't promise. I only said you would beg to suck me off. I never said I'd make you go through with it. Lets just be clear about that. What happens next is entirely down to you."
He lifted his cock up to her lips. "Your choice mom."
She paused uncertainly and couldn't escape the fact that she felt a great chasm of disappointment opening up before her should she choose to walk away. How could she be denied? After all that had happened? She considered things for a moment longer and then was struck by a moment of pure clarity. She gazed bitterly up at her son.
"You can't fool me Ben. There is no choice. You're still controlling my mind even now." She let go of everything as she said this, finally feeling free.
Before her son could answer, she descended, mouth wide open. He felt her warmth and her wetness. The soft roll of her pretty pink lips along his shaft. The delicious play of her tongue. He groaned as she nursed on the end of him and he dropped the unread letter to the floor.
It was, of course, completely blank.