Andrew stepped away from the bright green bike. He got the video recorder ready. Jake made one last check of his helmet, tugging the chin strap tight. He half stood off the seat. He kicked the starter. The engine roared to life. Gingerly, the boy tried the accelerator. The roar took on a different pitch as the motor sped up. He twisted the accelerator the opposite direction. The engine slowed.
Marilyn saw her older son gesturing. Jake nodded and held up a thumb. He eased the trail bike forward off it's stand and put it in gear. With a jerk, the bike started across the yard. Jake steered in a wobbly circle. Andrew shouted encouragement. The wobble firmed up. His path through the snow became more certain and, after a few circuits, Jake was riding like a pro.
Proud, the mother turned from the door. She would have rather watched from outside, but Andrew had suggested her presence might have made Jake too nervous. So she had stayed inside to watch, hidden from her sons.
She touched the heart shaped diamond pendant Andrew had given her for Christmas. It had been a total surprise, just as the motorcycle had been for Jake. She hadn't realized her older son could be so thoughtful. Since his father had left, Andrew had gone through a difficult period. Rebelliousness and difficulties in school were just two signs of the distress he was experiencing. Was this Christmas marking the return of the son she knew and loved?
Marilyn went through to the kitchen to check dinner. It had been hard to find a turkey small enough for just three people and since they all disliked leftovers, she had bought a glazed ham for their Christmas meal. It was just about done. The mashed potatoes on the stove were ready. She turned on the oven to bake some rolls.
She went back to the patio door. Outside, she clapped a few times when Jake could see her. Then she called over the noise of the dirt bike to Andrew that the food was almost ready. She wanted them inside in ten minutes to wash up. Andrew waved an acknowledgment. He watched his mother return to the warmth of the house.
She was an attractive woman who looked younger than her 43 years. She was slightly taller than average height and had a graceful figure. Tennis kept her in shape. Marilyn wore her dark hair in a short bob and was careful to see her hairdresser to help fight the battle against gray hair. She had deep brown eyes, mysterious pools that could sparkle with laughter or blaze with anger.
Back in the kitchen, Marilyn tossed the salad. She stopped to tug at her brassiere. It was uncomfortably tight and the action of tossing the salad made it cut into her flesh. As she had noticed last night, her breasts seemed larger; certainly the pressure from the cups of her bra pointed to an increase in size. Sometimes during her time of the month she had problems with water retention, but that usually didn't manifest itself this way. She wondered if she needed to make an appointment with her doctor to discuss the change. It was probably only temporary, but she tried to stay in tune with her body.
Thinking of her swollen breasts, she was reminded of last night. She couldn't believe that she had actually let Andrew make love to her. Make love? Oh, no, it had been a long and satisfying fuck. Her first since the boys' father had left, the best in an even longer time because the year before he finally moved out, her husband hadn't come close to satisfying her sexually.
Was that why she wasn't ashamed, wasn't horrified at breaking the incest taboo? Before he fucked her, Marilyn would never have considered sex with her older son. Now, she had no regrets at all. She relished the dreamy blow job she'd given him and was amazed at how hard she'd orgasmed when he fucked her. Was she a terrible mother for wanting more? She didn't think so. Had she harmed Andrew? Of course not. A 17 year old male was a bundle of hormones and suppressed sexual energy. Better he unleash that energy than keep it bottled up inside. Or find some high school tramp to fuck and catch all sorts of horrible diseases. Or knock her up.
Marilyn smiled at the rationalization, for she realized that was exactly what it was. Despite that, she knew that if he wanted her, she'd fuck Andrew again.
***
The Lehman family sat around the fireplace. Darkness had fallen outside. The only light in the house came from the fire. There were Christmas carols playing softly in the background
“This,” Marilyn said as she hugged her youngest, “is what Christmas is supposed to be.”
“It was great, mom. I really love you.” Jake returned the hug, even harder. “I don't think it could be any better.”
“I'm glad, darling. I think it's been great, too” She patted her son on the leg. “But I think it's time we start a new tradition. If you gentlemen will excuse me...”
Marilyn got up from the sofa. She left the den, headed for the kitchen. She quickly returned carrying a small bottle of champagne, three glasses, and a towel.
“You're the man of the house now, Andrew. Will you do the honors?”
He took the bottle from his mother. “I don't know what to do.”
“It's time you learned. Tear off the foil... See the wire? Twist it off and toss it in the fireplace... Point the bottle in a safe direction and using the towel, put your thumbs at the base of the cork... Watch it... now push with your thumbs, slow pressure but constant... More... Ah!” she exclaimed as the cork popped free and a bit of the sparkling wine burbled out of the bottle. “Excellent. Now my glass, then your brother's, and finally yours.
“Jake you get just a taste. I don't want you to turn into an alcoholic.” She handed her youngest his glass. “Stand up for the toast, guys. For the best Christmas ever and may all our future Christmases be filled with the love we share tonight.”
She clinked the rim against her son's glasses. They did the same with each other's. Marilyn took a sip and watched as her sons followed suit.
“It makes my nose itch,” exclaimed Jake.
“That's the bubbles. Well, Andrew?”
“Mine, too. It's good.”
“Nobody,” his mother said, ”ever got to first base with a bum wine. Remember that, dear.”
Andrew looked at his mother over the rim of his champagne glass and nodded.
“Now, I'd like a little more and we can all sit down.”
Andrew filled his mother's glass and topped his off. The family cat came in and hopped up on Andrew's thigh. Harley stretched out, rubbing his cheek against the teen's knee. He got his ears scratched.
Jake asked why the champagne had bubbles. His older brother gave a quick and simple explanation. He added at the conclusion, “It may make you a little tipsy.”
Marilyn nodded as Jake goggled at the glass. “I think it has already.”
“A little more won't hurt you. Just remember, this is a special occasion.”
“OK, mom.” He took another cautious sip. When his mother asked about his first ride on the motorbike, he put the glass down and began to describe in excited terms his ride. “Andrew says that maybe next week he'll take me to the lake to ride. He says they don't allow dirt bikes at Langham Park.”
“I think that would be fine,” Marilyn said. “Just remember your promise.”
“Oh, I do, mom. I promise I'll remember.”
They talked of other things. As they did, occasionally Marylin and her older son shared a glance. Once he saw she look down at his crotch. A couple of times he stared at her chest. She knew each time he looked there. Did he realize how tightly the cups held her boobs, chafed her nipples? Made them hard? He couldn't see them; the bra and her heavy shirt hid the protuberances, but did some instinctive awareness exist? Her pussy started to moisten. Could he smell her arousal? In her imagination, she tasted his cum in her mouth. She felt his fingers entering her cunt in preparation of his cock. As he pet Harley she thought how appropriate, since he'd soon be entertaining a different pussy.
Conversation lapsed. Silence grew. Marilyn looked at her youngest. Jake's head was nodding.
“I think you've had enough excitement, and bubbly, for one Christmas.” She got to her feet. “Let's march you up to bed.”
“OK.” Jake slowly rose. His mother playfully smacked him on his butt to hurry his progress to the stairs. She followed him up.
It was almost twenty minutes before she returned to the den. She saw Andrew sitting patiently.
“Do you want some more champagne?”
“Is there much left?”
“A couple of glasses.”
“Let's share.” Marilyn took a sip from Andrew's glass and put it aside. She shooed away the cat. Took his place. Kissed her older son.
“That was brilliant, planting the idea in Jake's head that the champagne would affect him.”
“The power of suggestion? I didn't even realize I'd done it until afterwards.” Andrew fondled her tit.
Upstairs, safely behind the closed door of her bedroom, she had removed the confining bra.
“That feels so nice,” she said, kissing lightly his face and ear.
“Is the scamp asleep?”
Marilyn unbuttoned her son's shirt. She kissed his chest, licked his nipple. “Softly snoring. You've changed the last few days.”
“For the better?”
“Definitely.” Marilyn turned, throwing her leg over him so she straddled him. She felt his bulge as she slid against him.