The Unknown Object
Tim couldn’t help but pant with excitement as he gazed at the incredible sight before him.
His mother was lying on top of the kitchen table, with her robe, panties and nightgown strewn on the floor around her. The curtains were closed (Tim didn’t want any nosy neighbors seeing what he and Mom were up to).
In his left hand, Tim held his phone, which he was using to hold a little impromptu photoshoot. In his right hand, he held the can of whipped cream.
Tim had been inspired by some of the hentai videos he’d watched, where the girls would be in the kitchen covered in ice cream, whipped cream, cookies, and berries, and the guys would then proceed to lick it off their bodies. When his mom had realized what he was doing, she said it was like a movie called 9½ Weeks. Tim had never seen it, but he’d made a mental note to check it out later on.
Mom would have been naked if it hadn’t been for Tim’s handiwork. As it was, her nipples were covered in whipped cream, topped with two strawberries, each pointed directly upwards. Her crotch was much the same, except Tim had cut the strawberries in half and had awkwardly shaped the pieces into a little heart. Some of Mom’s dark brown pubic hair peeked through the whipped cream on her crotch. It was a tantalizing sight, out of some tawdry pornographic film or magazine. Tim was sure Mom had never done anything close to this with Dad, which made him feel somehow triumphant. Her eyes were half-closed, and her face was blushing from a combination of embarrassment and exhilaration. She gave little gasps and groans whenever the cold whipped cream touched her bare skin.
Tim had already taken dozens of shots and some videos of the scene in front of him. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with them yet, but just the fact that he was able to do this was so incredibly hot. His own personal, private Playboy photo shoot.
When he’d first shown his mom the whipped cream and strawberries, she’d been initially confused, but had willingly followed his directions. The commands he’d given her using the ray gun worked perfectly (though he had brought the mind control gun downstairs with him just in case he needed to use it to further enhance the instructions). She’d whimpered with joy when he kissed her, and grasped on to him passionately. His mother was no longer the gentle, patient guide to lovemaking she had been last weekend. This was a woman in heat, aching for him to put his cock into her. And all it had taken to accomplish the change had been a handful of simple commands, Tim realized. What else could he do with the mind control gun, he pondered?
First, he’d had his mom do a little striptease for him. She eagerly peeled off every piece of clothing she was wearing. Tim practically drooled as her body came into view, bit by precious bit. Her physique was just as tight and amazing as he’d remembered. Her large breasts and curvaceous body were incredibly sexy. By the time she pulled down her panties, her furry pussy was already moist. Then, once he’d taken the time to inspect her nude body thoroughly, he’d had her lie down on the kitchen table. With her lying down on the table, her beautiful breasts showed no sag; in fact, her pink nipples were nice and stiff from nervous excitement. She gave little squeaks when the cold whipped cream first hit her bare skin and nipples. Tim hadn’t been able to help himself and had eaten the first few servings of whipped cream directly off her breasts before he calmed himself down enough to decorate her with the strawberries.
He’d had her do a number of sexy poses—lying down on the kitchen table, with Tim standing on top one of the chairs and photographing at a downwards angle, then another one of her lying down with her legs spread, the whipped cream slowly tricking down her crotch. He’d put a trail of whipped cream from her stomach leading down to her bellybutton, photographed the tawdry scene, and then licked the trail of cold whipped cream clean.
“Okay, Mom, now I want you to hold your titties together,” Tim instructed, holding the phone camera up. His mother squeezed her breasts against one another, and Tim took more photographs. As he did so, he wondered what would feel like to have his cock squeezed between those two beautiful breasts.
No time like the present to find out, Tim thought, grinning. He put the phone down in the kitchen counter and practically ripped off his shirt and boxers. As his erection sprung free, his mother looked at it, giving a slight moan.
Tim grabbed the can of whipped cream again and sprayed some on Mom’s chest, between her breasts, then applied some to his own cock.
“I’m going to give you…an, uh…a tasty treat, Mom,” Tim grinned as he climbed onto the table and knelt on her stomach, positioning his cock between her breasts. Mom keenly realized what he was trying to do and squeezed her breasts together once more, creating friction between them and Tim’s erect penis. Tim began to slowly thrust in and out between the fleshy orbs. The cool whipped cream, combined with the heat radiating from Mom’s body and her soft breasts, created an amazing sensation.
Tim panted with pleasure, and saw how his member popped in and out of his mother’s bosom as he thrust forward and back. This gave him an idea.
“Mom,” he said, “can you suck it?” His mother, whose eyes had been half-closed, looked up at him with an expression that indicated some trepidation.
“I…I’ll try…,” she panted. Mom started at the tip of his cock as it sprang forth from between her breasts, and hesitantly began licking its head. Tim looked at her lustfully.
“You love the taste, don’t you, Mom?” he groaned, feeling the sensation of his penis against his mother’s delectable titties. He stopped thrusting and let Mom’s mouth do the work. She put the head of his whipped-cream-covered cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it expertly.
As Tim looked on, Mom kept at her delicious licking, sucking and licking on his knob. She might not like giving head, Tim thought to himself, but she was very skilled at it. A shame Dad’s never going to experience this again, he chuckled to himself. It felt so good, and soon enough, Tim knew he was going to cum.
“Ngh…open wide, Mom…!” Tim grunted as he blasted her face with his milky seed. Most of it landed in his mother’s gaping mouth, but some of it landed on her cheeks and chin.
Afterwards, he climbed off of her and looked at her. The whipped cream had become a bit of a mess, and had matted some of her hair, and gotten all over her chest and stomach. His mother was breathing heavily, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Tim grabbed his phone and took a few more shots, then grabbed a chair and sat down facing the table on which his mother lay.
“Okay, Mom, it’s breakfast time,” Tim grinned. “Just lie there and I’ll lick you clean.”
Using his hands, he spread his mother’s legs open, sank his head down into her crotch, and proceeded to do just that.
Heather looked out the window and sighed. She could vaguely hear the math teacher at the front of the classroom, droning on and on about polynomials, explaining formulas and methodology in ways that went way over her head. She wasn’t really paying attention.
She hadn’t paid much attention to anything since she’d gotten to school that morning. Tricia, Jenny, and Samantha had all separately asked her if she was feeling alright, and Heather had just nodded and given vague platitudes. How could any of them understand how much her life had changed in just the span of a day? Even if she could have told them, she knew that they would disapprove—well, if they didn’t just outright call the cops on her and Tim.
Just one day ago, she was dating Eddie. Things weren’t going perfectly, they weren’t moving particularly fast (that was an understatement—they’d kissed and he’d slipped his hand under her bra during one particularly heated make-out session, but that had been as far as it had gone), and they hadn’t even told their parents yet.
And then she’d found out just how completely he’d hoodwinked her, realized how he’d been using her to get to Samantha, and she felt horrified and ashamed. She was too embarrassed to talk to any of her friends and she knew Mom and Dad wouldn’t understand. The only person left to confide in was her brother.
Her brother, who until yesterday, she’d been so ashamed of and embarrassed by. Who she’d actively avoided and who was the object of mockery among her friends.
And then, when she’d talked to him, it had been like the floodgates opened. She felt feelings that she’d never realized she even had. It was as though her affection for her brother had been hidden somewhere, out of view, until the moment she most needed it. And then, what they’d done together…
She still couldn’t fathom it. It didn’t make sense, and yet it did.
Heather had had sex yesterday. Not with one of her celebrity crushes or her boyfriend, but with her own sibling. And she didn’t even feel the slightest bit horrified by it. She knew, by the standards of society, that she should, but she didn’t. The fact that it didn’t bother her was puzzling, and she kept running the experience over and over again her mind. It was like she’d gone from training wheels on a bicycle to riding a motorcycle without any of the necessary steps in between.
But it had felt good, though her crotch still ached slightly from having broken her hymen. And the farther she and Tim had gone, the stronger her feelings for him became. She couldn’t imagine being with anybody else now. When he’d entered her, pushed past her virginity and made her his own, she knew—she loved him. Not as a brother, not as family.
As a man.
She didn’t really know what that meant for them. She knew Mom and Dad would never approve—they’d probably send Tim to a military school, probably send her to a psychiatrist. It would be a huge scandal if anyone found out. But she knew she was willing to risk that danger—that’s how much she cared about her brother.
And that in itself was scary. She didn’t know she was capable of such strong feelings—even for someone like her brother. She couldn’t get her thoughts of him out of her head. All the other stuff that had seemed so vital to her before—track and field, her friends, the regional competition, the cute guys from Central High…all of it had diminished in importance.
Heather considered what that meant, what it really meant. It meant she’d have to erect walls of privacy between herself and her friends. Things wouldn’t be able to stay the same as they’d always been, where they gossiped together and told each other everything—this would mean an entire part of her life would have to be a secret from them.
As she ruminated, she suddenly felt a poke in the back.
“He’s calling on you,” Tricia whispered.
“Ms. West?” Mr. Humbert was looking at her with a rather stern expression. “Are you considering coefficients, or has your mind wandered somewhere off of planet Earth?”
“Uh, ah, sorry, teacher,” Heather replied. “I, uhm, was trying to follow along, and, uh…”
“Ah, following along, where we?” the teacher said, and gave a somewhat rueful grin. “Let’s see how much you understand. Come up to the board and complete problem number six, please.”
Heather blanched but nevertheless walked up slowly to the whiteboard, as though a prisoner walking towards their execution.
Back at the West household, things were getting hotter and heavier.
Somehow, Tim and Mom had ended up on the kitchen floor, licking each other clean of the whipped cream. They hadn’t been entirely successful (the area around the kitchen table was a bit of a mess, strewn with bits of strawberry, cream, and Mom’s discarded clothing), but they had now moved back upstairs.
As they’d climbed the stairs to the second floor, with Mom leading the way, Tim couldn’t help but stare at her rolling, shapely buttocks, the product of hours of hard work at the gym, yoga, and Peloton sessions. Thanks to the ray gun (which he’d left downstairs), his mother’s body was at his disposal, for his enjoyment.
It was time to make another fantasy come true.
As they walked down the second-floor hallway, Tim and Mom couldn’t keep their hands off each other, fondling each other’s bodies, feverishly kissing each other, like a couple of newlyweds who had just discovered the erotic pleasures of sex. Tim squeezed her ass, tweaked her nipples, stroked her tight stomach…marvelled at the differences and similarities between Mom’s body and his sister’s. When he touched her overheated pussy, he felt the bristles of her trimmed pubic hair, and as his fingers traced her outer lips, he could feel the moisture which indicated his mother’s sexual excitement.
“Shall we…ahhh…continue this in the bedroom, Tim?” Mom asked, between kisses.
“That’s actually just what I was thinking, Mom,” Tim agreed, as he traced the small of her back with a single finger, then lightly slapped her buttocks, feeling their delightful springiness.
Mom gave what could only have been called a girlish giggle, and the incestuous pair awkwardly stumbled into her bedroom, accidentally knocking over a small trash receptacle located near the foot of the bed as they did so. A few things fell out of the receptacle, but Tim didn’t pay much attention—his mind was occupied with other thoughts.
Mom sat down on the bed and motioned for him to come over, but Tim had other plans.
“Lie back on the bed, Mom,” he panted, “and start playing with yourself. I’ll be right back.”
Mom looked at him confusedly, and Tim just smiled back.
“Please, Mom, just do as I say—it’ll be worth it,” he grinned.
“A-all right, dear, but please…hurry back…,” Mom said, as she adjusted the pillows on the bed and spread her legs, revealing her beautiful, wet pussy lips to his eyes. “I…I want you.”
Tim gulped. That was the first time a woman had ever said something like that to him.
He looked at his mother, and she gave him the first ‘come-hither’ look he’d ever seen in his life. She was breathing heavily and giving him what could only be called bedroom eyes, as her hands played with her nether-regions, gently stroking her clit. Her pussy was practically dripping, it was so wet.
It was one of the most sexual sights he had ever seen in his life. His mother, his own mother, wanted him, desired him, ached for him. This wasn’t like last time, a gentle lesson given by a patient parent. This was a woman desperate for sex.
Tim swallowed loudly and practically ran out the door. He headed towards the bathroom to get what he needed for the next step in the day’s sexual experiences.
Kathleen gently played with her clitoris with her thumb and forefinger. She’d never felt this way, not even when she was a college student having her first experiences with Robert, the roguish young man who would eventually marry and would become the father of her children.
She would never have imagined in her wildest dreams (or nightmares), that it would be with one of those same children that she would be having one of the most exciting, erotic experiences of her life.
Her husband knew how to pleasure her, knew how to make her feel good. But he’d never done what Tim had done in the kitchen that morning. And if he’d proposed it, Kathleen wasn’t sure she would have agreed to do it, to display herself like some sort of Playboy model, covered with whipped cream. Kathleen didn’t like the idea of women being objectified as sexual playthings—the reason she worked out and kept herself in shape was to feel good about herself, not because she wanted to be ogled by gym trainers or pimply supermarket clerks.
And yet, when Tim had proposed her stripping for him, lying down on the kitchen table (the same kitchen table where the family sat each morning for breakfast) and debasing herself for him, she’d found the proposition incredibly exciting. She didn’t understand why, but she was willing and eager to do anything Tim suggested. Her heart had skipped several beats when she saw him take his phone out and begin taking photos of her—what was he going to do with those photos? How worried should she be? And yet, she’d been unable to verbalize any objections. Instead, she’d posed for him, as though she were a young porn starlet instead of a 45-year-old mother of two.
She idly wondered what he was planning now, as her slick, moist fingers played with her pussy. He was so different from Robert. Even during his younger days, Robert had mostly been interested in ‘vanilla’ sex—nothing too out there. The kinkiest they’d ever gotten was the lingerie Robert had bought her for their last wedding anniversary. They’d spent a weekend in Las Vegas in one of the honeymoon suites at a fancy hotel—and after an evening of admittedly enthusiastic sex, Robert had fallen asleep, and had not waken up until almost noon the next day. Kathleen bitterly noted that she’d forgotten to pack the lingerie and had accidentally left it behind in the hotel, so she didn’t even have that as a keepsake of their weekend.
With Tim, everything was so different. Maybe it was the teenage hormones, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. A couple of days ago, Kathleen had just internally rolled her eyes whenever Tim pawed at her body and breathlessly proposed having sex during the coming weekend, but now, for some unfathomable reason, she found it incredibly attractive.
As she pondered the differences between her husband and son, Tim walked back into the door. Kathleen unconsciously licked her lips as she stared at his steel-hard erection. His thick, veiny cock was big, even bigger than Robert’s. She couldn’t wait to have it inside her, couldn’t wait to…
It was then that she realized what he’d left the bedroom to fetch. Tim smiled as he held it out for her, and she realized what he was planning to do next.
In his right hand, Tim held an open container of Vaseline.
It took all of Heather’s self-control to not start banging her head against her desk. It was last period, history class, and Ms. Davis was going on and on about the Peloponnesian War. Heather couldn’t have cared less what some ancient Greeks had gotten up to thousands of years ago. She had her own contemporary teenage problems to worry about.
That wasn’t meant to be a slam on Ms. Davis as a teacher. Heather typically liked history classes, and it was one of her stronger subjects. And there was a reason Ms. Davis was so popular among the student body. Of course, part of that was that Ms. Davis was relatively young, in her mid-thirties, and so students felt she was a least a little bit relatable in the way she approached the material they were studying. And it probably had something to do with the fact that she was pretty good-looking (for a teacher)—she was tall, pale, and had blonde hair in a bob-style haircut which suited her, as well as intense blue eyes that could stare holes into students she deemed to be paying insufficient attention to her classes. But still, Ms. Davis was super professional, so she wasn’t exactly a warm person to be around. She was always helpful, but she was…distant, at least that was what Heather thought. She always dressed pretty conservatively (maybe because she knew she was surrounded by pervy teenage boys like Eddie Berger), and nobody knew anything about her private life, though there were rumors she was dating some guy who ran a restaurant. The students in the Model UN club that she ran said she was actually a lot nicer one-on-one than when she was teaching class. She also taught Tim’s history class, but her brother had never mentioned her.
Heather wondered what Tim was doing right now. Probably sleeping, or maybe playing some video games on his computer. She wondered how Mom had reacted when he’d told her he wasn’t feeling up to going to school today. Heather figured that Mom had probably given one of her patented lectures to Tim, and she was glad she’d left for school early and had missed the fallout of one of Mom’s reprimands.
As she thought of Tim, her mind wandered back to yesterday’s experiences. She thought about how Tim felt about what they’d done, about what that meant for them going forward. They hadn’t really had time to speak about it yesterday, but Heather wanted to talk about it, needed to know where she and Tim stood. She couldn’t think of anything else. Not class, not her friends, and certainly not track and field.
Now Ms. Davis was projecting some maps on the boards.
“All right, now let’s see how the Athenian army progressed into Macedonia—everyone, make sure to copy this to your notebooks. This will be on the test,” Ms. Davis said as she pointed towards a series of arrows on the map using her laser pointer.
Heather opened up her notebook and started tracing the map that was being projected onto the screen. As she did so, she made up her mind about something. She couldn’t wait until six or seven that night to talk to Tim. The whole situation was driving her to distraction.
She’d excuse herself from track and field practice that day, she resolved. She’d tell the coach she was having a heavy flow day or something and get home early, talk to Tim, and figure things out.
She smiled to herself and her heart beat a bit faster as she thought how surprised Tim would be to see her come home earlier than expected.