A Change of Routine Ch. 1

Have you ever done something unexpected- something that honestly surprised yourself? You know what I mean...

I have never considered myself an adventurous woman. I'm quiet, bookish. A typical "librarian" archetype, complete with glasses and mousy-brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, as you can see. Oh, I won't lie and say that I have never had the urge to skinny-dip in the river, or flash my breasts to a truck-driver trying to get him to honk. Its just that my entire life, I've been the one who had the urges but would never DO those things. Have you?

I'm shy, socially awkward. I married a shy, socially awkward man. He eventually left me for a wild, sexually forward woman named 'Nancy'. Nancy Fancy...Bitch. I haven't missed him since. His parting words to me were: "Joyce, you need to cut loose... get wild. The bookworm bullshit just got too old. Look at Nance.. that woman knows how to let go." And he was right. I merely hadn't found the proper means to ease myself into the transition of...well, letting things come easily. And my husband certainly had not helped... in fact, I can not recall very many truly happy or romantic moments within my marriage. It was as if truthfully didn't feel like trying to urge my adventurous, lusty side out.

Utter bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it... Ted and I produced a beautiful, wonderful boy from our union. He even paid the child support faithfully until Gary turned eighteen. I suppose I have no true complaints about my former marriage, and my current lack thereof. Ted really was a nice guy. And I HAD been a prude. But there were so many things he could have done...Oh God... throw me down, take me, crush me, show me how good it can be. I'd wanted him to, but he never had. And of course, I could never ask for something like that... that's not how I am.

So here I am, forty-three, single, a "mousy librarian" living in a modest apartment with my son. Well, modest and tasteful... you know me. It is lavishly decorated to suit my taste, art nouveau, an occasional odd piece, such as the tribal fertility goddess next to my armchair, or the modernistic iron lovers on my coffee table.

Gary particularly hates the lovers, as they obstruct his view when he is watching television, or playing his video games or whatever. He is twenty now, attending college full time. I have no complaints about him living at home, in fact, without him, I think it would be rather lonely.

And here I am... off on a tangent. What was I speaking about? Oh yes, adventure. I can see the laughter in your eyes as I pronounce the word "adventure". You don't see it in me... ah, I don't mind. Most people don't see it. Gary, on the other hand saw something different... can you keep a secret?

Lean closer, I don't want anyone else to hear. I'm only telling you this because you've mentioned similar topics to me, and... I just really would like to tell someone what I've been doing, and... maybe enjoy it. You can keep a secret, can't you?

Oh, I don't know where to start... I work as teacher's aid, so usually Gary gets home from school shortly before I do. My life is filled with unchanging routine. It is how it has always been. My general routine is to walk through the door, throw my books on the table, kick my heels across the kitchen floor and yell at the cat. Without fail, Gary is always playing some video game or another when I get home, his eyes glued to the television set like a zombie. And this was the routine. Sometime, a few weeks ago... it changed slightly. All of the sudden one day when I got home, Gary was sitting in the armchair, watching the door when I came in, television off. I'd noticed him, for the past month or so, looking at me strangely. I was beginning to wonder if he was upset with me for some reason.

"Hi Mom," he said. "You know... I've been thinking. You are really an attractive woman. There is no reason you should still be single."

I was taken aback at the statement, and even more surprised when he casually added, "You really could be sexy mom. I see it."

I set my purse down on the table, blinking to clear my head. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, that my own son disapproved of my status as a single woman, and moreso that he thought I should be 'sexy'. I glanced over at my son, and he had the strangest look on his face. He glanced at me lengthily, as if taking me completely in before he rose from the chair and approached me. My own feet were planted in the kitchen... It was almost as if I was afraid to step into the same room as my own son. Needless to say, the fear did not subside as he advanced toward me.

Gary reached forward and helped me take off my suit jacket. He hung it on the back of a chair and his eyes returned to me, noticeably taking in my breasts through the white silk of my blouse. Blushing, I took a step backward and made a comment about what I was going to make for supper. He ignored me, reaching a single finger forward to lightly trace the underside of my left breast. A tingle of excitement rushed through my entire body, and I pushed his hand harshly away, stepping past him and locking myself in the bathroom until I regained my senses. Looking into the mirror, I wondered why my own son had done such a thing... and moreso what that tinge of excitement I had felt had been. Why was my heart beating so quickly? I emerged from the bathroom as I heard Gary go to his room and close the door. I fixed supper, and the rest of the night proceeded in accordance with the proper routine.

The next day when I arrived home, there Gary was again sitting in the armchair with his eyes on the door, waiting. I smiled awkwardly as I entered the door, kicking the cat out of the way and throwing my purse and keys onto the table. He said not a word as I walked into the living room. The television was off, I turned it on, flipped it to CNN and sat down on the edge of the couch.

We both watched TV in silence for a while before he tossed the book he had been reading to the side of the armchair and stretched, rising and walking over to sit on the other side of the couch beside me. I kept my eyes forward, to the television, watching the news but not understanding what they were talking about. I could feel his eyes on me... they were hot. They were burning the side of my face, washing over my breasts and my legs with heat... what was this...

Suddenly he leaned slightly forward, tracing a line down the side of my cheek with a finger. I kept my eyes forward as his finger found its way back up my cheek to rest at my temple, near my ear. I swallowed hard.

"Gary... what are you doing?" I asked, as casually as I could.

"I think," he replied, "That you should take off your glasses, mom." His finger pushed up under the edge of my glasses, and his other hand reached forward to grab the other side. He plucked my glasses gently from my face, folded them, and set them on the edge of the coffee table, then leaning back to observe me critically.

I glanced over to my son, blood rising to my cheeks, my face growing very warm. I could not look into his eyes... they were burning... I was burning, everything was so... heated.

"Beautiful," he said.

I glanced up at him, and saw that he was not mocking me. His hand traced its way up my neck, to my hairline, then upwards to remove a few hairpins from the knotted locks atop my head. Finding the correct pin, my hairstyle collapsed, causing my hair to fall downwards in waves to my shoulders. He ran his fingers through the mass of it, brushing parts of it back from my face, combing out the locks. Soon his hand found its way to my shoulder, where it rested, massaging it slowly.

I stared, entranced, at my son. My face was flushed. My body was quivering. What was this... this intensity of feeling... oh god... to surrender to this feeling... to forget that the man before me was my son, my little boy...

He leaned forward and suddenly I felt his lips on my neck. Oh god, if you could know how it sent shudders down my spine, how it made my neck burn, my loins burn... I felt a deep throbbing in my nether-regions, and felt myself growing moist and heated. Had he asked me to surrender then, I think I would have, but he did not. He licked a slow line up my neck, then stood up and helped me up into a standing position.

Gary took my hand and led me to my bedroom, and standing me in front of the vanity mirror of my dresser, he stood behind me, reaching a hand around me to cup my chin and guide me to look at myself in the mirror. I looked at myself, then at him standing behind me in the mirror. "Look at yourself, mom." he said, tapping my chin with his finger as a reminder. "And don't stop looking."

For some reason unknown to me, I obeyed my son's request, glancing at myself in the mirror, nervous and wondering what he had in mind. My eyes followed as he slipped his hands around me and began to undo the buttons of my blouse, one by one. I held my breath... I'll admit now, I was scared... I was petrified... but I was also beyond excited, and every touch of his fingers was like a tiny jolt of electricity.

Slipping his hands up under the sides of my blouse, he pulled it off and let it fall to the floor. I watched myself in the mirror, standing in a bra and a navy blue skirt. Soon, I felt Gary's hands working on the button at the back of my skirt, and it too fell to the floor. I stared at myself in the mirror, standing there in a white bra and panties, jumping at my son's touch as he ran his hands over my sides.

"Beautiful," he whispered into my ear as his hand slid forward to caress my stomach. I watched him in the mirror, licking at my neck as his hands wandered over my body. Soon, I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his tongue and hands against my skin. I felt his hands working at the clasps of my bra, and I held my breath as he slipped the garment to the floor. "Open your eyes," he whispered.

I opened my eyes. My breasts were round and full, my nipples hard and pointed in the excitement. I watched in the mirror as my son cupped both breasts in his hands from behind, and kneaded them around with a pleased and wicked smile on his face. He pressed closer, and I felt his hardness pressing against my rear through the cloth of my panties, which he soon had off as well.

I was completely naked... In front of a mirror with my son standing behind me, arms wrapped around my waist and staring into his eyes in the mirror. He spoke, watching my eyes in the mirror as well.

"Look at yourself... your breasts, your waist, your hips," he said, running his hands over the spoken parts. "There is no need for you to deny yourself...mom... you are such a woman. Such a beautiful, sexy woman."

I looked. I had never allowed myself to truly look before. "I... don't know what you are talking about, Gary" I managed.

"Don't bullshit me, mom." he retorted. "You are a desirable woman. I'm a man, and I say so. And I have proof. See, you made me want to fuck you." He rubbed his engorged groin against my rear, and once more the heat ran through my body. I averted my eyes and stared at the corner of my wall. "But that is not for tonight," he whispered.

He went to his room. He left me standing there, naked and in front of a mirror, staring at myself critically and scared half to death. I put on a robe and spent the rest of the evening in my bedroom, curled under my covers with my eyes open, restless and thinking. I did not get up when I heard the pizza guy ring the doorbell. I didn't yell at Gary for ordering pizza without my permission. I just stared at the wall, and thought.

I was nervous to come home the next day, fearful of the awkwardness that would exist between he and I. But when I opened the door he was not sitting in the chair. I set my keys and purse down lightly on the table, and ignored the cat as I walked into the living room, feeling almost... disappointed that he wasn't in the chair waiting for me to get home. In fact, he was nowhere in sight. I peeked into his bedroom then knocked on the bathroom door, but he was nowhere to be found. Instinctively, I wandered to my bedroom and was surprised to see a covered garment hanging off the post of my bed, with a note attached.

"WEAR THIS. 8:00. VESPUCCI'S. -G" read the note in Gary's bold capital letters.

I removed the cover from the garment to reveal a sleek and sexy black dress, short hemmed and consisting of hardly any fabric at all. Hung around the hook of the clothes hanger was a racy pair of red lace panties, with a bra to match. I blushed just looking at the garment, and wondered at the intentions of wearing such attire. I decided to take a shower and go along with my son's wishes. But what was he doing? Setting me up on a date? Keeping the house empty in case I got "lucky"? Another thought crossed my mind, and it was my secret hope.

Now, you know me... I am not an ungroomed woman, but I certainly don't take special care in my appearance. That night was different... I luxuriated in every way I could think of and spent a whole two hours getting ready for the surprise evening. Wrapped in a towel, I dried my hair, styled it in curls over my shoulders, put on lipstick and even painted my toenails... a deep, dark color that my Grandmother would have called "slut red". When I slipped into the bright red undergarments and then the little black dress, I couldn't help but blush in the mirror and wonder how I could go out in public like this. My slut-coloured toenails peeked out from my strappy black shoes, the digits appearing soft and tempting. The dress only came down to my mid-thigh, and when wearing the strappy heels that had been laid out for me, my legs looked long and luscious. I was afraid that if I bent over, I would flash red at anyone nearby... and I would have!

I spritzed some lilac scented perfume on my neck as a final touch, and paused nervously before heading out the door at precisely 7:30. I left my glasses on the edge of the bathroom sink. On purpose.

(stay tuned for part two, same bat time, same bat channel)