High Anxiety Ch. 03

CHAPTER 3 -- Sunday Storm Warning

Ann headed to her job at the grocery store the next morning, checking the weather to see when the snow would hit. She worked from 7:00am to 4:00pm and was relieved to see the snow was supposed to start around 6:00pm that night. As she mechanically steered her car to her work, her mind worked through the scene with her son from yesterday. She hoped she had nipped it in the bud as there was no way she was going to give her only child more mental or emotional damage. The night before she had masturbated in her bed, fantasizing about the cum filled panties, her fingers alternating between plunging in and out of her sloppy pussy and in and out of her mouth as she imagined her juices were semen she sucked off her fingers. She told herself last night and again this morning that wasn't the same thing at all as incest. She was focused on the cum, not the producer of it.

After the car pulled out of the driveway, Brandon dug around in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets, making sure there was a bottle of red wine. Ann hardly ever imbibed, but with just her at legal drinking age in the house, she would sometimes finish the bottle and once Brandon even had to hep her to bed. Was he going to try to fuck his unconscious drunk mother? No. Certainly not. Would he try to get her inhibitions lower? That was the plan.

Ann headed back home after work, the first flakes of snow starting to fall. They were big fat flakes that presaged accumulation. The forecast had been updated for heavy snow and the grocery store was bombarded with worrywarts buying the store's inventory out of milk, bread, deli meats, and for some reason, toilet paper. Ann was exhausted, feeling like she had worked two shifts. She did not feel like cooking and was contemplating ordering take out or delivery, but debating with herself about shifting her budget around to accommodate it. Fuck it. She'd order she and Bran a nice meal from somewhere, have it delivered, then figure it out later.

When she walked through the door, she was unexpectedly greeted with the scent of something cooking and it smelled really good. Bran didn't really cook... what was going on? She put down her purse and went into the kitchen to find Brandon standing in front of the stove. The table was set for two and there was an unopened bottle of wine on the table.

"Bran? What... what is this?" She was smiling, but puzzled.

"Hey, mom. I know how the store gets with weather stuff so I made us some spaghetti so you don't have to cook. I not sure I got the garlic bread right, but the rest was pretty easy."

"Bran, you are the most thoughtful young man ever!" She glided across the kitchen, feeling a warm burst of love in her chest and kissed him on the cheek as she hugged him tightly. She expected to feel him pull away in embarrassment, but he leaned into her a little, still concentrating on his sauce and noodles.

"Open the wine, mom. I know you deserve a glass after the day you had."

"You are right about that, Bran, but I have to work tomorrow. No wine." Ann picked up the bottle and put it on the kitchen counter by the stove. She caught a glimpse of Bran looking... disappointed? Unhappy?

"Honey, it was super thoughtful of you and I love everything you've done for us tonight, but I work tomorrow. I'll have some this coming up weekend and maybe even let you have half a glass or something. Okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah, mom. That sounds cool." Brandon scowled down into his sauce, replying, "Dinner's ready."

They had a nice meal together, chatting about Ann's day at work and Brandon's latest D&D adventures. After they cleaned up, Ann expected Brandon to go to his room per usual to play video games or whatever he got up to in there, but he surprised her by suggesting they watch a movie. Ann was further surprised when she looked up from the couch to find him bringing a blanket over.

"It's cold and snowy, Mom. I thought it would be nice to curl up under the blanket. We could turn off the lights and watch the snow fall for a bit before we start the movie."

"Bran... that's, wow... it sounds great. Let me change into some comfy jammies and I'll be right back."

Ann groaned as she took off her shoes, rubbing the soles of her feet briefly before taking off her shirt, leggings, and bra and donning fuzzy socks, long loose flannel pajama pants, and a matching button up top. No way was she putting that fucking bra back on after the day she had. She put her hair up in a tie and headed back to the living room.

She plopped down on the couch and watched Brandon open the blinds and turn off the lights, feeling a warm glow at the thought of a cozy evening with her favorite person in the world.

"I love you so much, Bran." She watched him watching the snow fall through the window, his profile stark in the dim light. He really was a handsome young man. They would figure out something to get him a girlfriend.

"Love you too, mom." Brandon turned away from the window to smile at her, looking at her more... deeply... than he normally did?

"Look at it come down, Bran. What was the latest on the weather?"

"Oh, you know... snowpocalypse, the storm to end all storms, 20 feet of snow, all that normal bullshit they try to scare you with."

"Bran. Language."

"Sorry, mom." He pulled Ann's feet onto his lap and started to rub them, surprising her. "Your feet must be tired, right? I know some days I hear you complain about them."

"That feels amazing, honey. You don't have to rub my feet." Ann was hoping he wouldn't stop, but she certainly wasn't expecting her son to rub her feet.

"Mom -- you do so much for me, I want to do this. I want to make you feel good." He continued the foot rub, Ann sinking back into her blanket, totally relaxed as she watched the snow fall.

Brandon rubbed his mom's feet through her fuzzy socks, very subtly rubbing the heel of her foot against the hardness in his jeans, confident she couldn't tell what he was doing through the thick material. He wanted more, and moved his hands up to her calves, pulling the tops of her socks down to massage the smooth skin of her legs. He heard his mom moan softly as he kneaded the tight muscles. He was afraid to speak, to ruin this moment, and lost himself in the sensations of her feet on his hardness and his fingers on her legs.

After a bit, he broke the spell and softly spoke, "Let me rub your shoulders, mom. Then we can start a movie."

"Bran, really. You've done too much. This has been so wonderful... watching the snow, you pampering me. Heck, just you wanting to hang out with your old mom has been great."

Bran stood and pulled Ann up so they could reposition themselves on the couch, Ann facing the window, her back to Brandon as he sat behind her, cross legged. Brandon wrapped the blanket around them both and start working on Ann's shoulder muscles. Ann moaned and leaned back into him.

"This is heaven, Bran. Thank you so much." Ann's thoughts floated back to the times she and her husband had shared intimate moments like this. He could be so tender and she saw it in their son, especially tonight. When they shifted positions so he could rub her back, Ann was surprised to find herself damp between her legs. She had apparently been enjoying the foot and leg massage more than she should have been. She guessed it was just the moment. It was so intimate and so romantic. To have a man pamper her and understand she had a tough day. She told herself that she wasn't having sexual thoughts about her son. She was just enjoying spending time with a man who cared about her and she lost herself in the sensations of being touched by strong fingers. The snow falling outside blurred into blackness as she closed her eyes and relished being touched for the first time in years.

Brandon felt something change in the atmosphere as he massaged his mom's back, shoulders, and neck. He couldn't identify it, but things just seemed different. More intimate, maybe? He decided on boldness. As he massaged her shoulders, he leaned forward, and gently traced his lips over the skin of her neck.

Ann felt a light touch on her neck and shivered. She didn't even question or think about what he was doing. It just felt so good. She moaned softly, warm and comfortable under the blanket as the snow fell out the window.

Brandon continued to run his fingers over her back and shoulders, softly now, more caresses than massage. He continued to kiss her neck, feeling elated his advances hadn't been rejected. He lightly ran his tongue over her skin, tasting a slight saltiness and breathed lightly on the skin of her ear. She moaned again as goosebumps covered the skin of her neck. Bran slid both of his hands up the back of her pajama top to rub the skin of her back directly with his hands. Her skin under the blanket and pajama top was so warm, almost hot. He moved his hands to her sides, tracing the soft skin with just his fingertips. His cock was hard and slightly uncomfortable in his jeans and he could tell his pre-cum had soaked through both his underwear and jeans. He desperately wanted to pull it out, but made himself slow down.

He moved his hands under the top, finding the crease of flesh of her side boob, the skin damp. Biting back a moan of his own, he reached around and cupped her breasts, having to lean forward even more to fully reach the large globes of flesh. He gently hefted them, absolutely amazed at how heavy they were. He kissed her neck again, sucking gently as he teased her skin with his tongue. He lightly traced the wrinkles of her areolae, imaging them to be brown against her milky skin. He found her nipples, long and stiff, pulling softly on them. He was touching boobs for the first time ever and it was amazing!

As he caressed her large boobs under her top, he found the pendulous sagging weight was a turn on for him. As Ann adjusted her legs under blanket, he caught a whiff of her scent, reminiscent of what he craved every Friday in her dirty panties. Overcome with need, he whispered in Ann's ear, his lips brushing the soft skin, "I want you so badly, mom."

"Mom." The word cut like a knife through Ann's arousal. She pulled away from Bran, her scramble to the other end of the couch desperate and almost comically hindered by the tangles of the blanket. Her face looked stricken, illuminated by the streetlights reflecting off the snow in the dim room as she faced Bran.

Her voice was hoarse and her words sounded ragged. "Bran... what are you doing? What are we doing? No, no, no. No more." She raised her arm, making Brandon think she was reaching for him, before she turned her palm to him, a clear declaration that there was a barrier now between them.

Brandon caught himself as he was about to address his mother as "Mom" guessing that word triggered this stand off. He mentally kicked himself as he replied. "You are my best, no, my only friend, Ann. We love and care for one another and I know you're lonely, having to devote everything to taking care of me and my... issues. Let me take care of you."

"Brandon honey, no. I love you more than life itself, but this is not healthy and it's not what I want. For you, or for me. I will see you grow and flourish and have a normal life if it kills me. We can talk more about this in the morning, or even figure out how we can swing a therapist, but right now I need a little space. Good night, honey. I do love you so much."

Ann wrapped the blanket around herself, not for warmth, but more a shield as she headed to her bedroom. She lay on her bed, thoughts racing as anger at herself, shame, and guilt coursed through her. She had to admit to herself that the physical contact and intimacy was something she craved. That she needed, even. She missed it so much it hurt. She steeled herself with resolve that nothing like tonight would ever happen again.

Brandon lay on his own bed, tears flowing down his cheeks as he dealt with the shame of rejection. His feelings of being unwanted amplified by a life of isolation and rejection from his peers. Why couldn't he have this? They both wanted it, needed it, he was sure. As he drifted off to sleep, his last thought before unconsciousness was that he wasn't fucking giving up, that was for sure.