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Call Me Charlotte

By: nathanfane6



Charlotte fumbled to get her key in the lock. That final glass of wine had gone to her head. She switched on the lights and danced drunkenly into her hallway. She was listening to Sometime Around Midnight by The Airborne Toxic Event. She had turned forty a few days ago, and her son had bought her an iPod. She loved it. She sang as she spun in circles.

"So you can smell her perfume, you can see her lying naked in your arms."

Her long black hair swung round as she danced. She caught sight of herself in the hallway mirror. She still looked pretty good, especially in her short black dress and high heels. She had been out tonight celebrating her recent birthday with friends from work. She dropped her handbag and danced through to the living room. She felt much younger than forty, so she sang.

"And you're too drunk to notice everyone is staring at you. You don't care what you look like. The world is falling around you."

Charlotte stumbled upstairs. She shrugged out of her dress and staggered into her bedroom. There was nobody else home. Her son was staying at his girlfriend's. She wondered whether there was any ulterior motive in him clearing out for the night. Daniel's father had cheated on her years ago, and was now apparently in South America. She had been single for a long time. Daniel knew she was interested in a guy from the IT department. Perhaps her son was allowing her the privacy to bring a man home, if she wanted to. 

She sat on her bed and pulled her stockings off. Her white silk pyjamas were folded neatly over the headboard. It took a while for her to guide the right limbs into the right holes, but she dressed for bed. Her pyjama top felt smooth against her body as she fumbled with the buttons. The irritating thing was that the guy from the IT department didn't even show up. What the hell! He was married anyway, and Charlotte felt guilty even contemplating sleeping with him.

The girls she worked with had bought her a present too. Something naughty and inappropriate. She took it out of the box and slipped it into her pyjama pocket. She might need it later.

The shuffle function on her iPod threw up a sad song. Aimee Mann sang One Is The Loneliest Number. It threatened to ruin her mood. She stabbed the button and got Ooh La La by Goldfrapp. That was better. She wasn't ready for bed, anyway. She wanted another drink. She danced her way back down the stairs. She shook her ass as she moved.

"Switch me on! Turn me up! I need la, la, la, la, la, la! I need ooh, la, la, la, la!"

Charlotte poured herself a drink. She took the bottle.

She collapsed onto the sofa. A splash of vodka leapt out of the glass and onto her pyjamas. She giggled.

"Pretty baby! You look so heavenly!" She sang to Blondie.

Her son was having his own relationship problems. He was nineteen, and was going with a girl called Emma. She was a gorgeous girl with long legs and flowing red hair, and she was whip smart. If Charlotte was interested in women, she might have fought off her son to get to Emma first. Unfortunately, Emma was also the sort of girl who felt she had to wait until she was married before having sex. Daniel was desperately trying to change her outlook. Tonight he had taken flowers and a bottle of wine round. Perhaps he had persuaded her. Perhaps right now he was enjoying a blow-job. 

Charlotte felt a little excited by that thought. She tried to quench it with a slug of the vodka. It had the opposite effect, as her inhibitions drained away.

She imagined her son getting a blow-job whilst Emma's parents slept. She heard him grunting as he came. Or, if he was really lucky, perhaps he was fucking the agile redhead on the kitchen worktops. She imagined them coupling in the pool of light from an open fridge. She closed her eyes.

She listened to Sweet Dreams by Tori Amos and slid her mind into that dark fantasy where she was the slinky redhead.

She imagined Daniel was slathering her breasts with banana ice-cream. It melted as it met her hot body and dribbled down her, onto his tongue. Oh... his lips were soft and urgent.

She called her son's name over and over. "Oh Daniel! Oh Daniel! Oh Daniel!"

Daniel stood at the bottom of the stairs, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. He had heard someone moaning his name. It sounded like his dreams of Emma, but he knew it could only be his mother. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Charlotte's hands crept down her body.

Daniel crept further into the living room.

Charlotte was thrilled by her drunken fantasy. She knew it was wrong, but she didn't care. Picturing Daniel and Emma fucking had unscrewed something in her brain. It was simple. She was a woman, he was a man. Her son was strong and masculine, and she wanted him.

She writhed on the leather two-seater, hips thrusting. She was gift-wrapped, wearing damp white silken pyjamas. They clung to her feverish body, so drenched with sweat that her carnal figure was perceptible. Daniel stared at her long legs, now thrown open. He stared at her smooth stomach, slinky and squirming against the silk. He stared at her juicy wild breasts, rollicking under her wet top. He stared at her dark nipples striking beneath a pyjama top so soaked in perspiration it was as transparent and lingering as cling-film.

She unbuttoned her top and struggled out of it. She looked like one of the women on the Playboy channel. Daniel was nineteen and could appreciate a stunning woman - even if she had given birth to him. Clammy strands of dark hair fell across her face, her pouting lips. Her eyes were half-closed, and her long lashes flickered. The iPod he had given her was clipped to the tight waist of her pyjama bottoms and Daniel realised she was listening to music. There was no way she could hear him in the room. She ran her long fingers over her naked breasts and squeezed them, gasping urgently.

Daniel swallowed hard. He shouldn't be here. He was home tonight because he had argued with Emma and she had told him to go. He had been fast asleep in his room, until he heard his mother's voice. But he shouldn't be here, standing in the living room watching her. He should steal away back upstairs to bed.

His stiff penis was hard against the cotton of his boxer shorts. It was an exquisitely tight bulge.

I can't take my eyes off her. She's wet, she's wriggling. How can I resist? She's a goddess. But she's my mother. Shit! 

He started to walk upstairs but she sang breathlessly to Madonna. "I don't want to be your mother. I don't want to be your sister either. I just want to be your lover. Kiss me."

He liberated his thick throbbing dick.

Oh, Mom.... I wish you could do this for me. His thoughts seemed so loud.

He moved his penis back and forth. It felt strong in his hand, He felt like he could do anything he wanted with it. He wanked while he watched her.

He imagined her soft lips on the tip of his penis, her tongue quick and darting. Her long raven hair tickling his balls.

She moistened her fingers with her tongue and explored her nipples. Her fingers orbited the dusky circles of her areolas. Her touch was intense. Her nipples grew like button mushrooms. She tilted her head back and stroked them with her thumbs. "Daniel.... That feels sooo good...." Her voice was throaty and vital.

Daniel's hand raced up and down the curved shaft of his penis. His purple head swelled and surged. He imagined stimulating her pussy with it. Her bucking and writhing beneath him.

Charlotte stuck a long finger in her belly-button and shivered. It was one of her most secret erogenous zones. She played with it, pressing her finger-tip against the sensitive spot, her other hand busy provoking a wave of thrills by skilful attention to her sighing breasts. She moaned and pressed her shoulders deep into the leather. She unwittingly showed Daniel how she wanted her world to be rocked.

Daniel staggered forward, needing to see this ravishing woman. Lips open. Her normally alabaster face hot and flushed. Her long kissable neck, her strong shoulders, dripping with perspiration.

She twisted her long legs together, sliding her ass along the leather couch. Her thighs rubbed, slippery with the juices now flowing from inside her, her knees trembling against each other. She swept a hand down, delving beneath the waist of her pyjamas. She pretended to resist, holding her legs tight closed, but pushed insistently, working one finger in, then another. She grunted. "Fuck me...." And her legs flew apart to accommodate both hands. One bare foot pressed against the carpet. The other leg hooked over the back of the sofa.

She sat up suddenly. 

Daniel was standing behind her. He was inches from her. If he leaned forward even slightly, his cock would touch her. His face turned crimson. He was about to get caught masturbating over his mother. But then he had caught her masturbating over him. His life, which he was now certain wasn't going to last much longer, flashed before his eyes.

Charlotte poured herself a full glass of vodka and knocked it back. That emptied the bottle. "God, this is wonderful," she mumbled. "It's so forbidden." 

She lay back down on the sofa. Her eyes were closed again. She hadn't seen him. She still had the empty vodka bottle in one hand. She lowered the bottle between her legs. Slowly, she worked the smooth glass neck of the bottle in and out of her pussy.

Daniel nearly collapsed when he saw that. Oh my god!

The shock of pleasure was potent, intense, overwhelming. But a profound fear of her opening her eyes and seeing him strangled his lust. He didn't ejaculate. He was too terrified. His mother was a sexy vision, naked from the waist up, breasts bouncing, in the throes of passion. Pyjama bottoms clinging to her every curve from the waist down. Her hands ravaging her clitoris, bopping under her pyjamas. Her alluring features wild and ecstatic. "Oh god.... oh god.... oh god...."

Daniel couldn't move. His mother was oblivious, lost in feeling. Tenderly stoking herself to a climax. She took one hand away and breathed, slowly, waiting. Then she reached into a hip pocket of her pyjamas and slipped out a white vibrator. It buzzed as she took it into her body. "Uhhuunnnn uhhhh!"

He wrenched at his cock, working it, eager to come at the same time as her. He lurched closer, his dick beating against the sofa. Trembling at the erotic shamelessness of this electric woman. Sexually gratifying her body with sordid dreams....

Charlotte worked the vibrator. It was a birthday gift from the girls at work. They knew how desperate she was for a man, so they had bought her the next best thing and even fitted it with batteries. She still couldn't believe what she was doing. But this was a fantasy. A harmless fantasy. Nothing more. She pictured Daniel fucking her.

Her own son, hard and muscular, bending her over the armrest of this leather sofa, her legs apart, her peachy buttocks receiving an athletic violation. His hands grasping her breasts, anchoring him deep inside her. His lips kissing the hot nape of her neck.

She spasmed, arcing her back, her legs twitching, her body shuddering. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck meeeee!" Daniel came suddenly. His mother orgasmed beneath him. His cock pulsed in his hands and shot a huge glot of semen through the air. It splattered her face and drenched her tits.

(Oh fuck!)

Charlotte fondled herself, still fiddling with her nipples, still enraptured. She rubbed the sticky man-juice all over her breasts, loving it. She pushed it down between her legs, adding it to the lubricating liquids deep in the cleft of her vagina. She moaned and bit her lower lip. Then she came to her senses. She was fucking herself. She hadn't been with a man. So where did that come from?

She sat up, soft cries subsiding, still panting hard. Charlotte searched the room. It was empty. She licked the semen from her lips, knowing now that her son was unexpectedly home and had found her. Knowing that he had cum across her face and body. She felt a strange emotional turmoil of shame and anger, exhaustion and longing. She didn't bother to put her pyjama top back on. She went to the drinks cabinet, unsteady on her long legs, and opened a bottle of Bailey's. 

She threw her iPod down on the floor. She wondered if Daniel would come back downstairs. She was drunk enough already, but if there was ever an excuse to get so smashed she couldn't remember anything at all then the last few minutes gave her that excuse.

Her stomach was churning, her mouth was dry. Her son's semen clung to her and she felt drunk on it. She didn't want to shower. She didn't want to dress. She wanted to make him cum again.

In the darkness of his room, Daniel was masturbating. The bed-sheets were bunched around his legs. His powerful chest rippled with the effort. He pretended his mother was draping her hungry forty year old body round him.

He didn't hear his door open.

Charlotte stood in the darkness, her fingers tucked inside her. She bit her lip to keep from whispering his name. She strummed her clitoris soundlessly, absorbing every lurid sensation, rubbing her ass against the door frame. The wood there became slick and slippery as she spied on her son.

She watched him shuffling his glorious purple cock, needing both hands to stir himself. She admired his arms bulging as he worked, knew that they could lift her against this doorway. She imagined her ankles locked behind, so her legs could pull him in deeper.

She listened to him panting degenerate things about her. 

"Oh... Charlotte... suck harder... you horny angel... Charlotte... bend over, you beautiful sexy piece of ass...." 

It inflamed her. Her heart throbbed in her chest while he came. He spurted, and kicked and twitched. His bedclothes fell to the floor. He was exposed in his clumsy passion.

Charlotte convulsed as her orgasm wrenched through her. It was the second time tonight she had been shaken by the thought of her son coming in her body. Her arm flung outwards and her palm hit a light switch. There she stood, silhouetted in the doorway. She saw the horror on Daniel's face, then the hot sexual longing. She knew how her semi-naked outline must look to any man. Her stunning contours, hard and ready for him. She arced her back against the door frame and pushed her breasts out.

He got up off the bed and stood before her, close enough for them to touch. The head of his penis nuzzled stickily against her taut belly. They were both trembling. He had no idea what to do next. Charlotte pounced fearlessly. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and raised one angular eyebrow. She suddenly looked different, a girl he might meet in a club, and Daniel knew she was seducing him.

"You"re naked, son" she whispered breathlessly. "Would you like to slip into something more comfortable - like me?"

She was a beautiful Elf-queen, dripping with sexy mischief. A terrible Vulcan bitch in heat. Anything but his own mother asking him to fuck her brains out. He stared. He didn't know what to say.

She shook her breasts at him.

That was it. He grabbed her and she grabbed him. There was no talking; just the fluttering cries and encouraging grunts between soft kisses. It seemed like hours they were kissing, lost in a warm smooth sliding clinch. Their wordless tongues wrestled. Neither of them closed their eyes. She had beautiful brown eyes, deep and brimming with tears of passion. She raised one of her legs and draped it around him. He held her long lovely thigh up and moved inwards, always inwards. It was the first time she opened her legs to him, allowing him within thrusting distance of her slick warm vagina. She lifted her head and panted at the top of the door frame as he kissed his way down her neck. She had never felt this raunchy. Or this desired. His hands stole down her curved back and inside her pyjama bottoms, fondling her buttocks. She presented her breasts to his lips, and pushed his head down. He took one tip into his mouth, drawing it in, lathering it with his drool, circling and pushing with his tongue, driving Charlotte to frenzy. He suckled her. She began to shuffle his cock up and down against her leg. He took her tit out from between his lips and stared into her brown eyes.

"I'm on the pill, so we don't have to worry. We can do whatever we like."

"Really?" Daniel wanted her. He needed her.

"Unwrap me," she begged. "Please."

He pulled her from her pyjama bottoms, lifting her as her legs curled around him. He laid his mother down on the bed and she squealed as he pushed his cock into her belly-button.

"Daniel! I love that!"

She came right then, wriggling beneath him. He let the spasms of lust ravish her, then pushed between her legs. His cock slid into her easily. Her nails dug into his back as she lifted her hips, no longer caring who he was. She stroked his shining athletic body. Her legs were wide, her toes gripping the mattress. 

"Oh mother!"

"Call me Charlotte, you mother-fucker!"

It was a long slippery night. Sometimes he was on her. Sometimes she sat astride him, her long dark hair clammy on her breasts, her breasts bouncing as she pushed herself down onto his thick penis.

Eventually, they succumbed to sleep. They lay together inside their tight embrace. Her hair was on his chest. Her legs were wrapped around him. Each slight movement of their bodies caused beautiful ecstasy. Because of this, they half-woke many times, only to make love again. Her legs wound around him. His lips kissed her firm heaving breasts. His hand caressed her bottom. He plunged inside her body. They fucked with total abandon, like they were in a dream. Neither of them had ever felt pleasure like it.

Slowly, inevitably, the morning came. Charlotte realised she was lying in her son's bed. Her head throbbed. She had the hangover from hell. Her legs were wobbly and weak. Daniel lay beneath her. He was naked, and she was naked. She was draped across him. Daniel woke to find his hand on his mother's ass. His cock was upright like it always was in the morning. He couldn't roll away from her. He could feel her nipples against his chest. He looked down. They were hard. Then they stared at each other, each was desperate for words, each was wondering what to say...

Call Me Charlotte Ch. 02



"Morning, lover," Charlotte said. She brushed her bruised lips against his. Her kiss was soft and fleeting.

July sunlight streamed through the blinds. The heat-wave dragged on into another day. The night before had been stifling; the window had been left wide open. The drone of a bee lurching drunkenly through the air was the only sound. It landed on a poster of Megan Fox leaning over the engine of a car. It crawled over her body. Daniel and Charlotte lay together, wondering if this was the end of a disturbing dream.

Daniel held his beautiful mother in his arms. Their bodies were entwined in the place they had fallen. His room reeked of sweat. The bedsheets were around their ankles. Her pyjama bottoms lay discarded at the door. Charlotte's body was hot and slippery. He could feel her long legs tight around him. He brushed her damp hair from her face. Her hair was black, and there was lots of it. It spilled onto the pillow. She was forty, and still gorgeous. She was wearing her face from the night before. Her lipstick was smeared, her mascara thick and clogged. She stared unapologetically at him; dusky blue eye-shadow made her eyes look bigger.

They stared at each other for a long time, paralysed. 

"Mom," he started. "I'm really sorry..."

"Shhh!" She stopped his words, placing a finger against his lips. "Don't you dare!"

"But..." He stopped talking. He could taste her finger on his lips; he knew where it had been. Her flavour was intoxicating. He sucked her finger. No, he had to stop. He had to say something.

"You're incredible, but we shouldn't have..."

Charlotte kissed him hungrily. Her tongue probed his mouth. She grabbed his head in both hands, pulling at his hair to stop him getting away, but there was no need to force him. She dropped her kiss on him like a nuclear bomb. It wiped out all resistance. Her lips tasted of vodka. His tongue battled hopelessly with hers. 

Charlotte's body and mind were boiling. All she could think of was having sex with him again. She kissed him deeply. She dragged her nails along his back. She felt like an Icelandic volcano. She had been dormant for years, but now she was hurling a column of fiery magma into the sky, and closing down European airspace on a whim.

His hands forced her legs wider apart. He was poised between them, like a cavalry brigade preparing to charge into the valley of death. His cock was snorting, stamping its hooves. He knew what it desired. He just needed to hear her say yes.

She nibbled on one of his earlobes. He heard his mother's ragged breath. "Fuck me! Fuck me like you did last night!" she whispered. 

Then her mouth was hard on his. His cock lunged towards the warm folds of her yearning pussy. He missed. His conscience had the chance to scream at him as his cock slapped against her stomach. She reached down and grasped his erection. It was huge, swollen. He grunted. She started to guide him inside her. 

Daniel had second thoughts. Doubt plagued him. He seized her wrist, and stopped her. He pulled away suddenly, breaking off their incredible kiss. Her red lips glistened, wet and welcoming. He wanted her so much. He caught his breath. "Hang on. Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"Daniel, it's okay."

"No, it's not! It's not as simple as that!"

They lay there, sweating, each thirsting for the other. Her eyes pleaded with his.

He feasted his eyes on her, marvelling at the sight of her naked body. Her slender legs wound around him. Her ass followed the perfect roundness of a classical Greek sculpture. The curve of her back was elegant. He couldn't see her breasts properly because she was lying on top of him, but he could feel the weight of them against his chest. He remembered she had wanted to be a dancer when she was younger. She still had a breath-taking figure.

"Don't you want me?" She was suddenly horrified. Was he refusing her? Was he... rejecting her?

"Oh yes. I want you."

She smiled, deploying an even more devastating weapon. "Don't you love me?"

"I love you, Mom." Her smile was bewitching. "But we have to come to terms with what happened last night."

"Bullshit!" Charlotte struggled free, rolling over him to straddle him. She knew if she sat atop his throbbing cock, allowing it to slide inside her, that it would solve everything. His guilty conscience wouldn't just be silenced - it would be bound and gagged and taken for a ride into the desert locked in the boot of a car. 

"Not so fast!" Daniel pinned her down. The animal part of him wanted to give in, to ravish this wanton woman. He held her wrists. Charlotte's hands clenched into fists. Suddenly, she was angry. She spat into his face. Saliva covered his lips. He tasted it. She bared her teeth and tried to bite him. Daniel was even more turned on. She was a snarling, primal bitch. He had to control himself, as well as her.

"Stop it!" Daniel seized her arms and pulled her sideways. He rolled, laying on top of her, pressing his body against hers. She was thrilled. Her soft flesh was crushed by his hard naked body against the mattress. She kicked, pretending to struggle.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You didn't think this was over, did you? You don't fuck a woman as hard as you fucked me all night, then go limp on her in the morning!"

Now Daniel was angry. His mother had no right to speak to him like that. He was nineteen, she was forty. He was adolescent and horny; she was meant to be the responsible one. Instead she was provoking him. 

"I'm not fucking limp! Far from it!" He displayed his cock to her proudly. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of it. "I'm just... Oh, fuck you! You can be a real bitch!"

"You know something? You're sexy when you're angry?"

"We need to talk." Daniel could feel her heartbeat racing beneath him.

Charlotte smirked. "Talk? We've gone too far! We're a million miles past talking! Which part of what happened last night would you like to discuss? Me frigging myself senseless while you secretly watched? Me screaming your name when I came? You jerking off, coming all over my face and tits? You running away? Me following you? The two of us fucking each other's brains out? You pumping your mother full of cum? Waking up together in your bed? Or here and now, us naked and fighting? Me wanting more of you?"

Daniel swallowed. He relished her, her dripping sarcasm, her angry lust. "We're going to feel guilty," Daniel said. "At the moment, this is unreal. A dream. But soon, you and I are going to wake up, racked with guilt. The real world will come crashing in."

Charlotte glared at her son. The fight went out of her. She wiped her forehead. Her voice was quiet and halting. "I thought if we carried on, if I insisted on us carrying on, then all this would eventually be seen as my fault. All the blame would fall on me. I wanted to take the burden from your shoulders. Which, by the way, are gorgeous."

"It's not your fault," Daniel insisted. "This is why we need to talk. We've both got to accept an equal share of guilt. It's as much my fault as it was yours."

Charlotte shook her head. "No, it wasn't." Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mascara ran, leaving watery black lines.

Daniel hugged his mother. He didn't care at that point that she was naked and beautiful, or even that she was his mother. She was another human being who he loved, and he wanted to hold her. He wanted to make her feel better.

"I can't believe I stripped my clothes off in the living room, and... masturbated. What was I thinking?"

He held her close to him. "You thought I was out," Daniel said. "You're a woman. You have sexual needs, just like anyone else."

"I didn't know you were home." Charlotte said. "You were supposed to be with Emma."

Daniel nodded. "Emma dumped me. I was frustrated because we hadn't had sex yet. I pushed things, and she slapped me. We argued. She told me to go."

"I'm sorry," Charlotte said. Even as she said it, she felt a little thrill. The devil on her shoulder told her that she had no rival now for her son's attentions. The rational part of her tried to drown out that voice but, under these circumstances, it was hopeless. She felt incredibly possessive over him.

"So it's not your fault. You weren't expecting anyone else to be in the house."

"No. But I was imagining myself with you. I was moaning your name."

Daniel kissed her tears away. "Can you tell me why?"

Charlotte hesitated. "I fantasised about you and Emma fucking. I've had thoughts like that before. You know I haven't had a man in my life for a long time. All I do is masturbate! My fantasies have become ever more intense and forbidden, just to keep up with my needs."

"I've had some pretty nasty thoughts about you too," Daniel said. "You're my mother, but you're a sexy woman. And, of course, I've been really frustrated over Emma. I've been watching you sunbathe in the garden. That tiny blue bikini you've got makes me go wild."

"I know you've been staring at me," Charlotte said. "Maybe this was a disaster waiting to happen."

"Last night..." Daniel sighed. "Well things were made even worse when Emma threw me out. You know why she won't sleep with me?"

"No." Charlotte shook her head. Daniel was muscular and good-looking. She couldn't imagine a woman not wanting him.

"Because she's in love with you."

"What!" Charlotte was stunned. She had noticed that Emma always held onto her for longer than she really should whenever she hugged her to say hello or goodbye. But she never imagined...

"It turns out that Emma didn't have any real boyfriends while she was at school. I'm her first serious boyfriend, but I don't think I'm interesting to her sexually. She kept saying she wanted to wait, and didn't believe in sex until marriage, but that was all a lie. She's finally realising she prefers girls. And you're her first lesbian crush."

"Oh my God!" Charlotte laughed. She couldn't help herself. She had never been with another woman before, but if she was going to do it she would have chosen Emma. She was tall and willowy, with red hair down to her shoulders. She played the guitar and wrote her own folk songs. "Well, she should have asked me. She might have got lucky!"

"So, when I came home all I could think about was you and her. I went up to my room and masturbated for hours, imagining you and her licking each other out. I guess we can admit to everything now. I fell asleep, and woke up when I heard you calling my name. I came downstairs and saw what you were doing. I know I should have kept quiet and gone back to bed. But the truth was, it felt like you owed me. So I watched you."

Charlotte remembered using her vibrator, feeling herself leave the physical world behind. And then his semen spilled on her.

"I jerked off. But I never thought my cum would land on you. That wasn't part of the plan. I was going to sneak away upstairs, so you would never even know I had been there."

"But if I'd opened my eyes at any point..."

"I know. The danger made it even more exciting."

"What about what happened next though?" Charlotte asked. "When I followed you upstairs?"

"You had my cum on your breasts and your lips. It was a bit difficult for us to pretend nothing had happened. You followed me upstairs to have it out with me, and instead you saw me jerking off again."

"Then we fucked each other."

"Yes we did. Which was incredible. It was the greatest night of my life."

"You're not... upset."

"No. It was the best sex I've ever had. You were amazing."

"It was intimate, beautiful."

"And we both had our reasons. But we shouldn't do it again," Daniel said. "You're my mother."

"No, of course not. You're my son." Charlotte was disappointed.

The bee crept over Megan Fox. It explored her pretty face, her long dank hair, her breasts. The heat was almost unbearable. The air was still, without a lick of breeze.

Daniel wondered if he could make her feel good. Maybe one last time would show her that he didn't blame her for what had happened. He caressed his mother's breasts. He ran his hands across them, lightly flicking her nipples until they were rigid. "Although we are naked."

Charlotte grinned. She kissed his neck. "And we were awesome."

Charlotte flung her legs around him. She gave him a wicked grin. "It would be a shame to waste your morning glory." She crossed her ankles behind Daniel's bare ass and drew him towards her. His cock rubbed up against her pussy. Her lips slipped around the head of his penis. He probed gently. She moaned. Suddenly, he was deep inside her. Her cunt was warm and slippery. His cock felt enormous.

She knew it was wrong. "Just this once," she gasped. "While we're in bed together. Then after that, never again."

"Okay," he said. 

Charlotte lay on the bed, her head thrown back. She moaned desperately. She chewed her bottom lip. Daniel moved in and out of her, gently. When she had her eyes open, he couldn't help staring into them. But when she had them shut, he shifted his gaze. He stared at her tits; he was in awe of them. He gripped one of her ankles in each hand, drawing her legs wide apart. Eventually, she rested her calves on his muscular shoulders as he leaned into her. Then she hooked her ankles behind his neck, swallowing him in even closer. He started gently, but gradually increased the tempo. She encouraged him with a rhythmic moan, becoming even more high-pitched as her arousal climbed.

"Oh oh oh oh! Ah ah ah ah!"

He imagined her as a musical instrument. He played her, fucking her slowly for a low moan, quicker for higher notes. He fantasised they were in an orchestra. Her hands clawed at the sheets. She worked with him, raising her hips in the air, telling him he was doing it just right.

After a while, they changed positions. She had no concept of time passing, had no idea how long they had been making love. She pushed him down onto the bed. She straddled him, leaning forward with her breasts suspended over his face. He plunged upwards, his cock finding its way into her. The sound of slapping flesh filled the room. He took his hands from her hips and grasped at her breasts. He lay back as she bounced up and down on his cock. He kneaded her jiggling tits, one in each hand like he was a master baker. They were soft and firm; they grew as he played with them.

She pulled his head close to her chest. His tongue flicked across her nipples. Then he sucked them. Her nipples grew fat and hard between his lips. He sucked at them like he was slurping to get to the bottom of a strawberry milkshake. 

"You used to do that when you were a baby," she panted. "Now I know why I could never get you to stop."

She reached behind her with one hand and lightly tickled his balls. It was a trick that had worked with her husband. Like father, like son. It was such a sudden pleasure, Daniel nearly exploded. Instead, he was forced to slow down his stroke, moving in and out of her with less violence, taking his time. 

"Oh, that's incredible!" she said.

He pressed his thumb to her clitoris while she rose and fell on his glistening pole. 

"Oh, that's right..."

He varied the pressure with his thumb, tapping it lightly, working it in a tight circle. He began to speed up.

"Ohhhhhhhh.... uhnnnnnnn..."

She tilted her head back. Her hair whipped back and forth. Charlotte opened her mouth and cried over and over, "O o o o o o o o!"

Daniel was no virginal teenager. He had been with plenty of girls. He knew an orgasm was growing in his mother's soul. He withdrew, teasing her. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her. They kissed, their tongues alive and wriggling.

He turned her around. She knelt on the mattress. He pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until she was on all fours. He knelt behind her. He had a good view of her pussy in the morning sunlight. All the blood had rushed there. It was swollen and engorged. He manoeuvered the head of his cock up against her pussy and drove it in. She grunted. He reached around and used the fingers on one hand to play with her clitoris. With the other hand, he stuck his index finger into her belly button and kept it there. 

"Oh God! That's good!"

She was staring at Megan Fox. The dark-haired beauty was bent over the engine of a car. In the background was the desert. But who cared about the background? Her eyes were smouldering, her hair cascaded down her back in a wild dirty tangle, her lips were parted sensually. An orange crop-top and tight blue jeans showed off the curves of her body as she bent over. Charlotte couldn't believe the poster was turning her on. She wondered how many times her son had lay in bed, jerking off to it. She didn't blame him. She decided that one day she wanted to sleep with a woman, just for the thrill of it. Perhaps what she was doing with her son was opening up a floodgate of sexual ambitions.

She put her forearms against the mattress, and placed her forehead on her arms. This made her ass stick up higher into the air. All Daniel could see was her back and her shoulders, and her untamed dark hair. He thrust his hips back and forth, driving into her dark hairy cunt. He fucked like a piston in an engine. He too thought of Megan Fox, and it didn't take much imagination to turn the woman beneath him into her. He could feel himself coming.

"Mom!" He called out as he fucked her. "Mom! Mom! Mom!"

She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to say the same thing that had turned him on so much last night. She could remember it through the drunken haze. 

"Call me Charlotte!"

"Charlotte, you horny bitch!" He fucked her faster and faster. "Charlotte! Oh fuck! Charlotte!"

He discovered her clitoris again. The thrill of that electric touch sparked through her body. She felt her arms and legs trembling. Charlotte reared up, sitting back into his penis and throwing him off-balance. She squealed.

"Oh, Christ! YES!!!!!"

A flush of red travelled from the space between her breasts on her upper chest, up to her neck, into her face. Her pale cheeks turned crimson.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Uuuuuuuuuuu!"

They fell out of bed and onto the floor. They didn't stop. Charlotte was limp now. Her legs were jelly. She had no strength in her. He fell on top of her. He got to his knees. He knelt between her legs. He caressed her ass.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked.

"It was..."

Daniel didn't wait for her answer. He seized her breasts, feeling the weight of them in each cupped hand, and pulled her back up, onto his cock. He came instantly. Her hot cunt was clamped around his cock. He felt cum splurge inside her. His hips rocked back and forth until they both collapsed in a sticky mess on the carpet.

"... the best orgasm I ever had," Charlotte confessed.

He could barely speak. "Me too."

Mother and son held each other like the lovers they were. They were both exhausted. They could barely move. Daniel stared at the sheen of wet pussy juices that covered the shaft of his penis. Charlotte stared at the cum, still trickling out of her pussy.  

Daniel's phone played the five note alien greeting from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It was the noise that told him Emma had sent a message. He ignored it. Charlotte smirked. She knew who it was too, and she was glad he was ignoring it.

"Oh my God! We couldn't possibly do that again," Charlotte said.

"No. Where would it ever end?" 

"It was incredible. Mind-blowing. But we made a promise, that it would just be that last time."

"If we carry on with this, we might not be able to stop." Daniel cursed himself for making her promise.

"We have to get back to being normal. Back to being mother and son." Charlotte wondered whether it was even worth trying.

Daniel shrugged. "It was great while it lasted though."

"Yes it was." Charlotte kissed her son on the cheek. She clambered uncertainly to her feet, like a foal recently born. Cum dribbled down her leg. "It's time I left your room."




Call Me Charlotte Ch. 02



"So it's all over?"

"Absolutely! One hundred percent finished! We're done! We've had our naughty experience together. Never again! Agreed?"

"Sure." Daniel sat up. He handed his mother some bedsheets for her to wrap around her naked figure. "Never again! Thanks though."

"Thank-you," Charlotte insisted.

Never again, she thought. It was the right decision. They couldn't turn back time but they could stop making new mistakes, and somehow salvage their relationship.

Never again, Daniel thought. She was right. But damn, she looked good staggering around nude after fucking him. His exhausted cock was already starting to come round again.

"It's like Rocky Balboa, that thing!" Charlotte laughed. "It won't stay down. Make sure you keep it away from me!"

"No problem," Daniel said. He covered himself with a pillow.

Charlotte staggered out of his room. A short time later, he heard water running in the bathroom.

A stream of hot water lashed Charlotte's body. She lifted her face up to the water. God, she still wanted him! She moved her hands between her legs.

Daniel sat in his room, surrounded by clammy bedsheets with a sickening lust in his heart and a massive erect penis in his left hand. It was all over.

"Unless you want to join me in the shower..." Charlotte yelled.

Daniel laughed. He stood up. His legs were shaky. His moral compass was spinning. He walked into the bathroom. It was full of steam. She reached out and grabbed his cock. Charlotte pulled him into the shower with her. This time, he didn't argue.



Call Me Charlotte Ch. 03



Daniel joined his mother in the shower. She dragged him in and slammed the door. They stared at each other, their faces separated by the spray of water. Daniel couldn't believe how sexy she was. Her head was at an angle, and she chewed her bottom lip as she jerked him off. Her skin was wet and slippery with soap. Her muddy eyes were sinful. 

He lifted his face up to the water, enjoying the sensation of Charlotte's hand shuffling up and down his hard throbbing cock. Water raced down his body, massaging him, untying the knots in his muscles. His light brown hair turned black and hung in front of his eyes. 

The shower cubicle was in the corner of the bathroom. Sliding glass doors at right angles on stainless steel rails formed a cubicle against the tiled walls. Steam enveloped them. Water bounced off the tiles. It poured down Charlotte's face. It hit her hair first, flooding it, turning it sleek and glossy. It rushed down her back, spraying and spitting. It cascaded down the swell of her ass. She turned. It splashed against her chest. It sluiced off the angle of her breasts. It raced down her legs. Droplets of water clung to the dark tangle of her pubic hair. 

Daniel marvelled at the sight of her. 

"You okay?" she panted. 

They had agreed not to do this. That last time making love was meant to be just that - the last time. She knew he had serious doubts, but she trusted her wet naked body was enough to suppress them.

He nodded. Whatever moral qualms he had evaporated like steam. He found it hard to breathe, impossible to speak. He stepped forward to kiss her, feeling the hot water explode against the back of his head, and over his shoulders, but Charlotte smiled wickedly. She avoided the kiss. Instead she dropped to her knees on the black tiles. 

She kissed the tip of her son's cock. He felt a fleeting ecstacy, like a rare butterfly had landed there. Then she tugged at it, working it back and forth angrily in her fist. She never glanced down the whole time, unable to break eye contact. They fucked each other with their eyes. The head of his cock stood proud and throbbing. He grunted. She licked the underside of it, from his balls to the tip. She ran her tongue around the rim of his helmet, like an angelic tour guide who knew the short-cut to Paradise.

"Oh, that feels so good!"

"You have no idea how good this is going to get!" Charlotte's opened her mouth wide, eager to take him. She swallowed his cock. He gazed into her eyes as she sucked. 

"Charlotte, you're so fucking hot."

Her skin was shiny with soap and water. Her hair was a slick black river.

"I can't talk right now," she mumbled.

Water sluiced down his wide chest, down his flat hard stomach. It dribbled down the shaft of his penis, into her mouth. His cock carried drops of water to her lips like an aqueduct. 

He wound his hands in her hair, forcing her face into his groin.

Charlotte was surprised by the strength in his arms, and suddenly found it impossible to resist him. But she knew what he wanted, so she gave it to him. She gave it to him hard.

She devoured the full length of his cock. She took him right into her throat. He knew she had done this before. He could see why his father had married her. She throat-fucked him hurriedly, working herself into a frenzy. He glanced down at her, and he couldn't see his mother any more. All he could see were her eyes wide open, her lips clamped around the root of his cock, and lots of dripping wet hair. She convulsed, backwards and forwards. She plunged her lips onto him. Her mouth was warm and tight. She pulled back, sucking strenuously at his bell end, imagining it was a gobstopper and she wanted to get to the next colour. 

Daniel let himself go. He roared with pleasure. He jolted. White sticky cum splurged out of his cock. Charlotte didn't even blink. She slurped, taking it all down. She was thirsty for the stuff. Charlotte wanted the taste of it, needed the forbidden thrill of swallowing it. She licked her son's dick clean.

His heart stammered. "That was amazing!" 

Charlotte stood up. They faced each other. Water danced over their bodies. It thrummed and surged. Christ, she was beautiful! Daniel moved in to kiss her but she refused him again. She took hold of his shoulders and pushed him down.

"My turn," she said.

She shoved him to his knees, and grabbed his hair. She pulled his face between her legs.

Daniel reached up with both hands and massaged her buttocks. Water slipped over his hands. He buried his face between her thighs. He licked her pussy. He lapped at her lips, tasting her juices. He probed with his tongue. 

He licked her inside, and outside. He kissed, he sucked.

"Uhnnnnn! That's gooood!"

He slipped his tongue inside her again. She opened her legs even wider. He thrust inside her, keeping his tongue straight. As he licked her, he heard the faint sound of his phone bleeping. It was Emma again. He didn't care.

He felt his way up the cleft between her labia. His tongue flicked her clitoris.

Charlotte whimpered. 

He sucked it in.

"Uhn!" She was lost in the sensation.

He did it again.

"Uhn! Fuuuuuck! That's incredible!"

He felt it swell beneath his tongue. He nibbled gently.

"Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

He rolled his tongue. He slipped it around her clitoris, creating a tight moist tube. Using tiny motions, he moved her clitoris rapidly in and out of the sheath made by his tongue.

"Who taught you that? Shiiiiit!"

She jerked suddenly. Her body spasmed. Her hips bucked. She pulled his hair.

"Fuuuuuck meeeee!!!!" She screamed.

Daniel stood up, a grin on his face.

Charlotte's hair was soaking wet; it was black and tight. It made her pretty face sharper, sculpting the line of her cheeks, emphasising her eyes, accentuating her dark eyebrows. She seemed to understand the impact that such erotic minimalism had on him: she gazed at him with her lips apart but didn't say a word.

There was no need to speak. They grabbed each other. They kissed, mouths open. Their tongues fought for supremacy. Steam impregnated their world. They fucked in soft focus.

Hot water surged over them. Hot water slipped over and into their erogenous zones. It felt as though the stream of water was another lover in a phantom threesome, licking them, sliding over them. The intense blast of water became a horny elemental spirit, possessing them both. 

He fucked her up against the wall, with the water drumming on their skin. She slipped one leg around him. He took hold of her ass and lifted her. Her back slid against the tiles. She pressed one hand against the shoulder muscle of his back. With her other hand, she dragged his lips to her heaving breasts. She stared up at the bathroom ceiling. Her mouth was open. Strands of her hair clung to the tiles. She moaned.

Daniel turned her around. He slipped his cock inside her. He drove her from behind.

Her breasts were pressed against the glass. They rubbed up and down, making flat circles.

"Uhhhhhhnnnnnn!" She turned her head. She couldn't quite push her mouth on his, but their tongues met.

He reached around, using his fingers to stimulate her clitoris again. 

"Ohhhhhhhhh oh oh oh oh!"

"Uhn, fuuuck!" he cried. 

They came, with him blasting into her, and her bucking against him, and both wanting more.

By the time they were done in the shower, the morning had gone. The midday sun blazed.

"What shall we do with the rest of the day?" Daniel asked.

"Well, I don't know about you. But I need a rest. I'm going to sunbathe."

"Sounds like a plan." He was exhausted, utterly wasted.

"I'll meet you out there," she said.

Daniel was more than happy to spend the afternoon in the garden with his mother. Both of them would be wearing very little. He decided on a pair of shorts. He walked outside and the sun roasted him. He lay down on his stomach, his eyes closed, enjoying the heatwave. He had no strength in his arms or legs. His skin glowed. He was like a lizard, drawing energy from the scorching sky.

"Here you go," she said. She pressed an ice-cold beer against the back of his neck.

"Oh, that's nice."

She stood behind him, running the cold can up and down, over his muscular torso, before popping the top and handing it to him. He looked round. In her other hand she held a glass of rose wine.

"Wow!" he said.

She stood over him, blocking out the sun. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, with her hair tied up inside it. It left her neck bare, long and sensual. She wore sunglasses. Daniel could see himself reflected in them. She stepped back, rolling out a blanket onto the grass. She was wearing that blue bikini. The one she knew he had been watching her sunbathe in, the one that drove him crazy. It was probably a size too small for her. Her breasts were barely restrained by the two triangles of thin blue polyester secured around her neck with a narrow string. The V-string bottoms followed an enticing curve, covering her groin then passing between her buttocks to become a tiny triangle of material just below the small of her back, and held in place around the hips with a thin elasticated strap. She bent over to adjust the blanket, and Daniel's heart skipped a beat as he stared at his mother's ass. 

Charlotte smirked. She wanted him to look. 

Seagulls somersaulted high above in a pale blue sky. Somewhere, cats were fighting. Bees buzzed, busily investigating the flower beds.

She applied lotion to her legs and arms. Daniel watched as she rubbed white cream into her body. He couldn't help but think of last night, when she had smeared his cum over her breasts and stomach, and down into her cunt. He was aware his cock was bulging against the fabric of his shorts.

"Can you do my back?" Charlotte asked.

"With pleasure."

She lay down on her front. Daniel squeezed the cream into the palms of his hands. His arms were heavy. He had performed to his physical limits. He had no strength left. It was a huge effort just to squeeze the bottle. He started with her shoulders, caressing them, enjoying the sliding sensation of his hands gliding over her body. He rubbed the lotion into her skin gently but thoroughly. It was the type with tiny flecks of gold glimmer in the lotion. Her skin shone. He squirted more into his hands and moved them down her back, making circular motions. Her legs were apart, with her toes pointing outwards. He knelt in the gap between her legs, rubbing lotion into her back. He untied the string of her bikini top. The flimsy top stayed in place only because she was lying on her chest. He rubbed lotion in where the string had been. He moved down to rub cream into the small of her back. His hands slipped down the side of her abdomen and up, cupping her breasts.

"Uhnnnn..." Charlotte wondered if the glories of this day were ever going to end.

He trapped both her nipples weakly between his fingers.

He lay on top of her, his cock pressed between her buttocks. He had no idea where his penis was finding the blood. Perhaps that explained why his brain had dimmed. Only the thin material of his shorts, and the narrow strip of the bikini stopped him from fucking her right there on the lawn.

"Not now," she said. "Not out here."

Of course not. It was a Saturday afternoon. Two gardens down, Mr. Baxter was pruning his roses. In another garden, they could hear the laughter and splashing of children playing on a water slide. Nextdoor's cat watched them from high up on the fence. 

He got back up, drained his beer. She lay there, watching him. She knew they couldn't make love on the lawn, but she was still disappointed. The sun kissed her body.

"Give me an hour, then I'll make us some lunch."

"I'll get us some more drinks," Daniel said. He needed another one. 

He refilled her wine glass, and started on another beer. 

Charlotte unwound her headphones from round her new iPod. "This was a great birthday present. You know how much I love my music." She kissed him on the cheek.

Daniel grinned. "But not as much fun as the other gadget you got. The one the girls at work bought you."

Charlotte blushed. She remembered the vibrator buzzing inside her.

"It was fun for me, watching you use it," Daniel said. 

Charlotte frowned. It was weird: she had been irritable at work last week, and had half-jokingly blamed her foul mood on the fact that the vibrator she kept in her bedroom drawer had gone missing. It was a mystery. It was only five inches tall, but it was one of her most cherished possessions. She had searched everywhere for it. Down the side of her bed, in the laundry basket, everywhere. It had vanished. She had been frustrated and snappy. She had been a real bitch to work with last week. That was why the girls she worked with had bought her a shiny new vibrator for her birthday. It had certainly done the trick. "I guess I won't need that anymore! Who needs a vibrator when you've got a real man?"

Soon they were lying side by side on the blanket, soaking up the sun. They forgot all about lunch. Charlotte turned her iPod on, and they listened to the music through one earphone each. They lay like that for hours, their eyes closed. 

The Righteous Brothers sang, "Whoa, my love, my darling, I hunger... I hungerrrrr for your touch..."

Soon they slept. The guitar and drums and desperate poetry ran through their minds, so that when they dreamed, they dreamed together. 

They woke together too, just as the sun moved behind a cloud. 

"I'm hungry," Charlotte said. "You want a bacon and halloumi sandwich?"

"Sounds good."

They went inside, two exhausted lovers unable to tear their eyes from one another. 

"You cut the cheese, while I get changed." Charlotte went upstairs. Daniel watched her go, climbing the stairs with her long legs, staring at the wiggle of her ass, and the swaying of her hips.

Daniel cut the block of halloumi into generous slices. He heard the floorboards creak upstairs, as she changed. He imagined her stepping out of her bikini, screwing it up into a ball. He wished he was up there with her. He noticed his phone was on the side. The screen told him Emma had been calling and sending him text messages. He picked it up, and without reading the messages, he turned the phone off.

Charlotte returned, squeezed into a high, figure-hugging pair of denim shorts and a lilac vest top. She didn't have a bra on; her nipples were clearly visible through the cotton. Her legs were long and smooth. She had no sense of being on display, and padded elegantly through the kitchen. She was barefoot.

Daniel lounged with his feet propped up on the kitchen table, watching his mother fry bacon and halloumi in the pan. The oil spat. On the surface it was a normal family scene: a middle-aged woman preparing a light snack on a Saturday afternoon for herself and her adult son. Yet beneath the surface, there was an erotic tension. Daniel wore only a pair of shorts, and he had given up hiding the bulge of what was an almost constant erection. In fact, he enjoyed the furtive glances she stole down to his crotch. She had 'dressed', changing from her bikini into something marginally less revealing. He stared at her graceful legs, at the curve of her ass against her denim shorts. He had to hold himself back from wrapping his arms around her, jamming himself into her behind and fucking her against the cooker. Instead, he drank more beer.

They left the back door open, allowing the smell of cooking to waft out of the kitchen.

Someone hammered at the front door. Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Go and see who it is," Charlotte said. 

He didn't want to. As he reached out to open the door, his heart thumped. He remembered all the missed calls and unread text messages on his phone. What if it was Emma at the door? He hesitated, his fingers grasping the handle.

"Well, open it then!" Charlotte was watching him from the kitchen.

Daniel opened it.

"Hello Loser!" Jim said. "Your doorbell is knackered."

Daniel shrugged.

"So, I heard you're a free man. Emma finally dumped you, then?"

Jim stood on the doorstep, wearing blue and white striped Brighton colours. He smirked. He had his video camera on, and he was filming Daniel. The rest of the boys waited behind him, digging into a big bag of chips. 

It was Saturday. Daniel was supposed to be watching Brighton and Hove Albion thrash Blackpool four-nil at the AMEX stadium. Jim was one of those friends from school who you grow out of, but can never seem to get rid of. Jim had never truly become an adult. He remained as crude and dumb as he had been at fourteen. 

"She gave you a major case of blue balls, so I heard." Jim continued filming him, trying to provoke a reaction. "Weird, because when I fucked her, Emma was a little slut!"

"You're full of shit!" Daniel knew Emma would never go anywhere near him. There was a connection, though. Jim was the captain of a local football team (the Withdean Wanderers). Emma's step-brother played in goal. Drinks at the clubhouse were subsidised, so Jim and Daniel often got pissed there for a cheap night out. Emma had started singing folk songs there, dragged along as entertainment by her step-brother. That was how Daniel had met her. 

"You ready?" Jim asked.

Daniel looked back into the house. Charlotte waited in the kitchen doorway. 

"Go, if you want," Charlotte said. Of course, she didn't mean it. She stared at him, silently begging him to stay.

She was holding her glass of wine. She tilted the glass, letting the rose wine swirl round the bowl. She looked a little drunk, leaning on the door frame for support. Again, Daniel noticed her incredible figure.

"Count me out today, Jim. I'm busy."

Jim shrugged. He burped. He zoomed his camera in on Charlotte's tits. "If I had a mother as fit as that, I'd be staying in all day too."

"Be careful what you say next," Daniel warned him.

Jim laughed. "I would fucking ruin her ass, if I ever got the chance."

Charlotte laughed. She was used to Jim. "You never will!"

Daniel lost his temper. He stepped forward and pushed Jim off his doorstep. "Piss off!"

Jim lost his footing and fell down. His video camera bounced off the concrete. He jumped up again and stepped forward with his fists clenched. His mates grabbed his arms. They knew he didn't really want to fight, so they helped him save face by dragging him down the garden path to the street. "You just made a fucking mistake!" Jim shouted. "I'll be back after the game, and then I'll fuck you up!"

"You're not fit to even look at her." Daniel slammed the door.

"Oh my," Charlotte smiled. "How gallant of you."

As the evening wore on, it became close, sweltering. They had left the back door open, but there was no breeze. A sheen of sweat covered them. They lay on the sofa. Daniel lay behind his mother. His cock was pressed up against her ass. Daniel was lethargic. Charlotte was sleepy. They were also feeling confused, because they were watching Mulholland Drive. The lights were off. The only illumination was the glow of the TV.

"I don't understand it," he said. "What the hell is going on?"

Charlotte frowned. "I can't tell if it's a dream, or whether it's a story about different identities in the same person, or a parallel universe, or just a piece of crap!"

"Well, I'm bored of it. I think we should do something else," Daniel said. He squeezed her right breast.

She slapped his hand away.

"Let's watch the end of the film," she said. She was genuinely intrigued.

They watched, and it got weirder.

"Do you want some cake?" Daniel asked. Most of Charlotte's fortieth birthday cake was still in the fridge.

"Ooh, yes please!"

Daniel climbed off the sofa. He wandered into the kitchen. A mountain of drained beer cans litered the worktop, along with two empty wine bottles. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. The back door was open but because the night air was so still, it wasn't helping to relieve the unbearable heat. He opened the fridge door and basked in the sudden chill. He stood there for what seemed like an age. He was troubled; he wondered whether his mother was having second thoughts. Was a drop of regret sinking in? He could understand her not wanting to make love in the garden, but she had also slapped his hand away in the living room. Perhaps simple reality was about to burst their bubble.




Call Me Charlotte Ch. 03



He lifted the cake out of the fridge. It was a Black Forest gateau, with two slices missing. It was chocolate sponge layered with cherry sauce, covered with creamy mousse, and topped with dark red morello cherries in a cherry jelly. It was Charlotte's favourite dessert. He carried it into the living room with a knife and two plates.

Charlotte lay on the sofa, barely looking over at him as he entered. Her attention was fixed on the TV. The film had reached the part where the lead actresses jump into bed together. It was inexplicable, but at least it had a fantastic lesbian sex scene.

He placed the cake on the coffee table and cut into it. He passed her a slice. She took it. Then he cut one of his own.

"Mmm, lovely," she said, savouring the rich chocolate.

Daniel lay behind her again on the sofa. He hadn't brought any forks. It was too hot to move, and he couldn't be bothered to go back into the kitchen, so he scooped at the cake with his fingers. Charlotte did the same. He rested his plate on her hip.

"Do you want my cherry?" she asked.

"No thanks." He was watching Naomi Watts and Laura Harring.

"Really?"

She turned her head to face him. Her eyes glinted. She was sticking her tongue out at him. Perfectly positioned on the end of her tongue was a purple morello cherry.

They kissed. The cherry burst sweetly in his mouth. He relished its intense alcoholic flavour. He sucked at her tongue.

He picked up his slice of cake, and hers. He had always wanted to do this. He splattered two handfuls of cake down her vest, onto her breasts. He dragged her off the sofa onto the floor. His kissed her, pushing her down onto polished oak floorboards. He covered her in chocolate, cream and cherries. His hands moved under her vest.

They rolled around on the floor. She crushed the TV remote, pressing buttons with her ass. The channel changed, to a documentary about ancient Greek theatre. 

"So is this a case of fate or free will?" the Professor asked. "The prophecy that Oedipus would lie with his mother came true because...

She sat up, her legs crossed. She peeled her vest off, pulling it over her head. Her breasts bounced free. Charlotte giggled. He smeared more cake over her breasts and her stomach.

Charlotte stuffed chocolate cream down the front of Daniel's shorts. She reached inside and grabbed his enormous twitching cock. She rubbed jelly all over him.

"Oh please, don't stop!" he moaned.

The TV Professor continued to discuss Sophocles. "For many years, apart from the chorus, there were only two actors on the stage. The next great leap forward in Greek theatre was the introduction of a third person."

Daniel heard someone walking through the kitchen. Charlotte heard it too. She had a piece of cake she was about to rub on his chest. He had a handful of cake he was about to shove down her shorts. They stopped what they were doing and looked toward the click-clack sound of heels on the tile floor. Daniel caught a familiar whiff of perfume.

"Hello?" Emma walked into the living room. 

She stopped when she saw them, half naked, covered in Black Forest gateau. The light from the TV flickered on their skin. "Oh my God!"

The redhead was tall, dressed in skinny jeans and a black boob tube. She carried Daniel's rucksack over one shoulder. 

"What the fuck!" Emma said. She glared at Daniel, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I know I shouldn't have just walked in, but..." She put the rucksack down. "I was just returning your stuff. I rang the bell, but I couldn't get any answer. The back door was open."

"Shit!" said Daniel. 

"We only broke up last night, and you're fucking another girl already." She shook her head. "You didn't waste any time!"

She glanced at the topless woman, at her chocolate-covered torso, and her cream-caked face. She had squashed cherries clinging to her nipples. Annoyingly, Emma felt aroused. She wondered what those cherries tasted like. "Who the hell is this?"

Charlotte wiped the cream off her face.

Emma recognised her.

"Oh Jesus! No, way!" Emma suddenly realised what was happening. She had caught Daniel making love to his own mother. She had caught them smothering each other in birthday cake. "Mrs. Garland! That's disgusting..."

Charlotte lay there, half naked, covered in chocolate. Her only clothing was a tight pair of denim shorts. Daniel didn't know what to do. He only wore a coating of cherry jelly.

Emma tried to leave, but slipped on a smear of gateau. Her legs flew out from under her. She put out her hands to stop herself. She landed on top of Charlotte, her hands grabbing the older woman's breasts. 

Charlotte had most of the wind knocked out of her. She glanced down at Emma's hands. "If you wanted some cake, you should have just asked."

Emma's hands didn't move. She had never touched another woman sexually before. She had wanted to feel this woman for so long. She gently squeezed.

Charlotte groaned.

"Holy shit!" said Daniel. He nearly ejaculated.

Emma gazed, with growing desire, into her ex-boyfriend's mother's eyes. Her throat was hoarse. "I'm sorry for falling on you, Mrs. Garland."

"Call me Charlotte."



Call Me Charlotte Ch. 04



MONDAY 

------------

Emma's work clothes stuck to her. She wore black high heels, a short black skirt, and a white blouse. She had undone most of the buttons on the blouse as she walked towards the house. She was nineteen, and worked in a travel agency. All day long she dreamed of sunny beaches and city breaks. She had spent the last twenty minutes crammed into a train with other commuters. She was sweaty and tired. She still looked pretty good though. She knew that some of the men on the train had been staring at her. She clicked up the garden path in her heels, and rang the doorbell. She fussed with her hair, taking out the pins, letting it fall loose over her shoulders. She stood on the doorstep, framed by a pair of dark pink rosebushes. She momentarily lost herself, gazing into the soft pink folds of the petals.

Her boyfriend's mother opened the door. She was a raven-haired beautiful woman. She wore trainers and running gear. She smiled when she saw Emma. At the same moment, the sun blazed from behind a cloud.

"Daniel isn't home yet, But come on in and wait for him. You want some orange juice?"

Emma adored her smile. It was intense. It was devastating. She felt herself being drawn to Charlotte's lips. She was a moth and Charlotte was the flame. She fought to get a grip on herself. This was her boyfriend's mother. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Garland. Anything cold will do." It was 28 degrees and there was no breeze from the sea. It was clammy and uncomfortable. It promised to be a sweltering summer.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I do wish you wouldn't call me Mrs. Garland. You make me feel a hundred years old!"

"I can't help it." Emma said. "My parents raised me to be respectful." She laughed. "Especially to old people." 

"You know I'm sensitive about turning forty this week."

Charlotte's long legs were clad in a tight pair of black Capri leggings that stopped just below her knees. Above that, she wore a figure-hugging white T-shirt with the words SUMMER OF LOVE stretched across her chest. Her hair was tied back. She was about to start her daily five mile run, but she was sweating just standing there. She carried a massive hunk of machinery clipped to her waist.

"What is that? It looks like it'll slow you down." Emma pointed at the square slab of blue metal. "Is it a gramophone?"

"It's a discman. It plays compact discs."

"Er... what are those?" Emma joked. One of the reasons Emma and Charlotte got on really well together was because they shared a love of music. Emma had loaned Charlotte her Katy B album. In return, Charlotte had got Emma hooked on Bowie. Emma had always been into music. She played guitar, and wrote her own songs.

Charlotte laughed. "I suppose you've never heard of a walkman either? They take cassettes!"

Emma shook her head, pretending to be dumb. Her pretty green eyes were wide and innocent. Her red hair flicked from side to side. 

Charlotte pushed her lightly. "Liar! You're old enough to remember mix tapes. I'd like to replace it with an MP3 player at some point, but it'll do for now. You never know – someone might buy me an iPod for my birthday." 

Emma grabbed her arm, and pulled. It was an excuse to touch her. The two women grappled in the doorway. The sun beat down on them. Charlotte pulled Emma's hair. Emma bit Charlotte on the arm. She grasped Charlotte's wrist hard enough to bruise it. Charlotte pinched Emma's thighs. Emma spanked Charlotte's buttocks. Their bodies crushed together. Their legs twisted. Emma forced her thigh up into Charlotte's groin. Charlotte grunted and ground herself against Emma's leg. Their play-fights were getting worse. For Charlotte, it was just a bit of fun. Emma wasn't sure what it meant to her. All she knew was that she felt aroused right now. The two women fought, both dressed in black and white. They struggled wordlessly, grunting and squealing. Somewhere close, an ice-cream van tootled. They parted, staring at each other hard. Charlotte panted for breath. Emma had a speck of blood on her lips.

"Did I do that?"

Emma nodded, grinning. She longed for Charlotte to kiss it better.

"Shit! Sorry." Charlotte frowned. It felt normal to her but she guessed that if anyone else saw them play-fighting, they would think it bizarre. She was strangely aware that they didn't do it when Daniel was in the room. She wondered briefly why that was. Still, the evening was too warm for her to care. "Why don't you come running with me?"

"Because there's no way you would keep up."

"Oh really?"

Emma watched her boyfriend's mother run down the street. She watched her cute ass wriggle in the lycra. Charlotte might be turning forty this week but she sure didn't look it. Emma closed the door and went into the living room. She sat on the sofa, waiting for Daniel but thinking of Charlotte.

***

Emma had her doubts. She had always preferred men. She certainly wasn't a virgin. She had slept with seven guys over the last couple of years. But recently, she hadn't been interested. Men left her cold. She was going through something, but she couldn't say exactly what. She had lied to Daniel, telling him she didn't believe in sex before marriage. That was rubbish. Of course, she hadn't told him about the seven guys she slept with before. The truth was, Daniel was a great guy, and he was handsome. He had a lean body and deep soulful eyes. But, right now, she was more interested in women. It was peculiar. She thought that, if you were a lesbian, you knew it from an early age. She had never heard of anyone suddenly changing their sexuality at nineteen. She was confused. She didn't know who she was. Her mobile phone buzzed. It was Daniel. 

HEY GORGEOUS. MISSED THE TRAIN. I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER HOUR. SORRY. SEE U SOON XXX.

Emma's heart beat faster as she read the message. It meant she had time. She couldn't get Charlotte out of her mind. She imagined her running, her breasts leaping, the muscles in her legs flexing, her dark hair tied into a ponytail and bouncing.

She went upstairs. 

Not for the first time, Emma intruded into Charlotte's bedroom. She loved this room. It was the place where all her fantasies converged. She admired the queen-size bed. The mattress was thick and soft, like lying on a cloud. The headrest was black wrought iron. Emma suspected Charlotte was a deeply sensual woman. She slept beneath satin sheets, sometimes gold, sometimes midnight blue, but today they were a purply-red, the colour of a full-bodied Burgundy wine. 

Emma reached out and her hand glided gently across them. She thought about making love to Charlotte under those sheets, their excited bodies entwined, orgasming as the sheets slid over them. 

The furniture was modern, angular, and made from cherry wood. The tone of the wood was deep and warm. There was a dressing table, with a large mirror. Emma pulled the square stool out from under the table and sat down. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Emma knew men thought her pretty. She had coppery red hair that curled loosely down to her shoulders. Her eyes glowed green like peridot. Was that how Charlotte saw her? Did Charlotte even notice when she ran her hands through her dark hair, how Emma smiled, how she licked her lips?

A musical jewellery box sat on the dressing table. Emma lifted the lid, and the theme to Swan Lake played as a tiny model ballerina pirouetted. She sat, listening raptly to the music.

She browsed through Charlotte's perfume collection. She picked up each bottle in turn, feeling the weight of them in her hand, breathing in the aroma of osmanthus flower, honeycomb, apple blossom, and sandalwood. 

Emma walked to one end of the room. In a wall-to-wall cupboard unit, Charlotte kept all her shoes. There were easily three hundred pairs there. Emma coveted her collection. She liked to consider which shoes she would like to fuck Charlotte in. Most of them! Emma clumsily kicked off her own black patent leather heels. They landed by the bed, one upright, one on its side. She imagined two pairs of high-heeled shoes discarded there. A pair of hers and a pair of Charlotte's, and near them a puddle of clothing, little black dresses and underwear taken off in a hurry.

Emma opened Charlotte's drawers. They concealed an alluring array of lingerie. Emma was impressed. She unspooled sheer stockings. She thought about being tied to the bed by Charlotte, her naked body spread across the queen-size mattress, her wrists and ankles tied to the corners by tightly-knotted stockings. Her eyes closed. In her daydream, Charlotte crawled over her, doing whatever her heart desired. 

Emma rummaged through Charlotte's silk negligee, satin naughties, lacy unmentionables, and lycra undies. The drawers were full of bras, panties, stockings, suspenders, basques, briefs, teddies, chemise, knickers, camisoles, slips and babydolls. 

She unfolded a black lace basque and held it up against her own body. She studied herself in the mirror. She was taller and thinner than Charlotte. Surprisingly, their breasts were the same size - a 34 double D. Emma examined the label in a pretty blue bra. But Charlotte had a curvier figure, while Emma's lower half was slimmer. So Emma guessed she could fit into Charlotte's underwear, even if her panties might be a size too big.

Her searching fingers closed around something smooth and metallic. Oh my God! She knew what it was just by feeling. The Holy Grail! She found it tucked away beneath boxes of Tampax. She hadn't been looking for it, but she was overjoyed to find it. It was Charlotte's vibrator. It was silver, shaped like a sleek missile. There was a variable black plastic speed dial at the base. She imagined Charlotte operating it at top speed, bucking and writhing, swearing under her breath, biting her tongue as she came so that Daniel didn't hear.

'What the hell am I doing?' Emma thought. 

She turned the dial. Her grin widened as the vibrator buzzed into life. 

Emma closed her eyes. She put the tip of her tongue on it. Mmmm! She imagined she was tasting it just after Charlotte had used it. Oh, it tasted good! She sucked it like it was an ice lolly. It buzzed in her mouth.

She had been in Charlotte's room before. She had admired her shoes, sampled her perfume, lay back on her bed, and even peeked at her lingerie. But she had never done this before.

She picked out some of Charlotte's panties. She dug around and found a pair that matched the basque. They were black, lacy, almost non-existent.

She wriggled out of her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse. She wore plain white cotton underwear. She unhooked her bra. She stood there for a moment. She was naked but for her white cotton panties. She admired herself in the mirror. Her flat stomach, her lovely legs, her full breasts.

Next she sprayed Calvin Klein Obsession on her wrists. She rubbed her wrists together, then touched them to her throat. She was enveloped by the delicate aroma of amber, jasmine and sandalwood. It was Charlotte's favourite scent. 

It wasn't enough. She picked up the perfume again and sprayed Obsession all over. It smelled like Charlotte was close to her. Intimately close. She stepped out of her panties. 

She listened for the slightest sound, in case anyone came home.

She tried on Charlotte's underwear. She slipped the panties on first. They were luscious, tiny and elegant. She put the basque on back to front, so that she could fasten all the hooks. She twisted it the right way round. It was a perfect fit. The basque was adorned by lace flowers. The cups clutched her breasts. The lace felt light and cool against her skin. It was delicate and sensual. She pulled the straps over her shoulders. She stared at herself in the mirror, marvelling at how sensual she looked. Her red hair was auburn in the sunlight. It fell across her eyes, over her shoulders, down her back. She looked gorgeous.

She glanced nervously out of the window. She could see the park across the street. Charlotte usually ran around it twice. It was a big park, with tennis courts, a boating lake, acres of lawn, and a rose garden. She was terrified of getting caught. Emma knew two circuits took forty minutes, which meant she had thirty minutes left.

Emma lay on Charlotte's bed. Her head hit the cool sheets. Her hair fell about her in a nimbus. The sheets were smooth; it was like floating in water. They accepted her body. 

She played with her breasts, imagining she was being touched by Charlotte's hands. She teased her nipples, forging them into hard bullets. She clawed at them, enhancing the illusion that her hands were Charlotte's hands. She tickled herself. She ran her hands insistently all over her body. She pressed her palms and her long guitarist's fingers hard against her stomach, pushing downwards, slipping those fingers between her legs. She lingered momentarily, the dam about to burst. Then she drew back, gasping, seizing her breasts again, one in each hand. She squeezed violently, at the same time pushing her chest upwards. She moaned urgently, her hands caressing and sliding. She felt as though she were a sculptor, and her flesh was nothing but wet clay. 

She didn't have a lot of work to do. She was already aroused by the scent of perfume, the feeling of lace against her skin, and the way her body slid frictionlessly across the sheets. She was halfway to orgasm already, exhilarated by the wicked knowledge that she was in Charlotte's room, rolling around in her bed, splashed in her scent, wearing her underwear. She felt like a raunchy version of Goldilocks.

Then there was the vibrator...

She pressed it against each erect nipple. Her breasts tingled. She drew the tip of the vibrator in a tight circle around each breast, spiraling inexorably inwards, slowly tracing the dark pink circles of her areolae. 

Her moist red lips parted. She lifted the vibrator to her mouth again. She slipped the silver bullet inside her mouth, licking it, sucking it, making it wet.

Her free hand cascaded down her body, like water rushing downhill. Like a river surging, her hand quickened and gained strength. It abandoned the twin hills that were her breasts, glided over the plain of her stomach, before forcing its way like rapids between her legs, pouring into the canyon. Her hand exploded over her pussy, flooding the area with sensory pleasure. She plunged her fingers inside. They slipped in her own juices.

She manoeuvered the vibrator down her body. 

Emma sat up suddenly. She thought she had heard something. A door closing? She struggled to catch her breath. Suddenly, Emma's fantasy world evaporated. She was struck by the reality of how easy it would be for Charlotte to come home and catch her. What the hell was she thinking?

What if Charlotte was back early from her run? Maybe she had sprained her ankle. Maybe she had decided it was too hot and only run once round the park instead of twice. She switched the basque round, fumbling at her breasts to get the hooks apart, wishing she had stolen something simpler. She pulled it off, stuffing it back into the drawer.

She listened. Nothing. She hoped it was nothing. She only needed another five minutes...

'Oh what the hell!' 

She dragged Charlotte's panties down over her hips and massaged the outside of her pussy with the vibrator. Waves of pleasure rolled through her. It thrummed. She bit her lip. She sat down heavily on the end of the bed. She was about to slide the tip of the vibrator into the warmth and wetness of her vagina.

"Emma, are you upstairs?" Charlotte yelled. "Eastenders is about to start."

Fuck, she was home!

The orgasm hit her then. She dropped the vibrator, before she could drive it into her pussy. She didn't need it. The sound of Charlotte's voice finished her off. It was forecast but devastating, like a storm blowing into a port. She was drenched with sweat. Lightning sparked in every limb. A hurricane tore through her mind. She was utterly dismasted. She gushed, waves of pleasure overwhelming her.

"Coming!" Emma moaned. 

TUESDAY

-------------

"It's her fortieth. I want to give her something special for her birthday. What do you think I should buy her?" Daniel asked.

The shopping centre was busy. People had just been paid.

Emma smiled. She wanted to give Charlotte something special too. She drifted away into a forbidden place.

"Any thoughts?" said Daniel, interrupting her.

"Oh... er..." Emma shrugged. "I think she wants an iPod."

WEDNESDAY

---------------

Emma sang. The clubhouse couldn't pay her, but she didn't care. She loved to sing her songs. She loved to play guitar.

The lights were low. People were drinking, and talking above her. She didn't care that no-one was listening. She didn't mind that she was background music. She perched on a barstool on the stage. She wore flared jeans and a sleeveless black top. She tapped one foot as she played, keeping the beat with her boots.

She sang about a torn wedding dress, and loneliness. She sang about the moon, and longing. She sang about scars in suspicious places, and pain. She sang about bats in the attic, and madness. She sang about uncontrollable desire, and shame.

Peter ignored his mates. He applauded when no-one else did. He listened intently to every word. He leaned forward, out of the darkness, his hand clutching his pint of beer. He only had eyes and ears for her. Emma smiled at her step-brother. 

"This song is for Peter," she said. 

She always ended with the same number. It was a cover version of a Leonard Cohen song. The spotlight was on her. She struck her guitar. She sang.

"Like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free."

"I love you," Peter whispered. As usual, nobody heard him.

THURSDAY

--------------

"Happy birthday!" Emma shouted.

"Oh, hello Emma," Charlotte said as she answered the door. "Thanks, but... I wasn't expecting you."

"It's a surprise," Emma said. 

Charlotte stared at her. She always took her birthday off work, and her son had promised to take her out for dinner later. She thought it was supposed to just be the two of them. "Daniel isn't here. He won't be back from work for a couple of hours."

"I know he's not here. I'm sorry, Mrs. Garland. I don't mean to intrude. I know you and Daniel have an evening planned. I finished work early, but I got locked out of my house. My parents aren't home. Daniel told me to come here and wait for him. He has a spare key."

Charlotte nodded. Her eyes were covered by sunglasses. Emma saw herself reflected in them. She hoped Charlotte couldn't tell she was lying about losing her keys. She just wanted to spend some time with her. 

Charlotte looked beautiful in her floral pink dress. It was short, ending midway on her thighs. Her hair was tied up, leaving her neck bare. Her skin was shimmering with sweat. She was barefoot.

"Well come on in," Charlotte said. "I'm sunbathing. Why don't you join me?"

Emma followed her in. As she shut the door, Charlotte pulled her floral dress right off, tugging it over her head. She swept it off in a single movement, as she strode through the kitchen into the garden. She discarded her dress on the floor. She now wore nothing except a bright pink bikini.

Emma stared. Her mouth hung open. Emma watched Charlotte's buttocks dance as she walked away. They were beautiful. She wanted to press her face into them. She almost fainted.

"Get a glass from the kitchen," Charlotte said. She was unsteady on her feet.

Emma joined her in the garden. Charlotte pulled a bottle of Chardonnay out of a wine cooler. She examined it, holding it up to the sun to see how much was left. It dripped ice cold water. Two thirds of the bottle had been drunk. Emma wondered whether Charlotte might have a drink problem. Charlotte filled Emma's glass, then topped her own up to the brim.




Call Me Charlotte Ch. 04



Charlotte lay on her side on a beach towel, resting her head on her palm. Emma, who hadn't thought to bring a bikini, suffered the heat in her blouse and jeans. She was glad she wasn't wearing a bikini; she didn't think she could keep her excitment secret. Charlotte would be bound to notice Emma's rigid nipples poking against the bikini top, and the dampness between her legs. 

She lay on the towel, next to Charlotte. She struggled against her urges. It would be so easy to simply roll over, climb on top of Charlotte and kiss her lips.

"Did you suggest this?" Charlotte held up a brand new iPod. "Daniel gave it to me this morning for my birthday. Apparently it's from both of you."

"Yes. Oh, I've got this for you as well!" Emma reached into her handbag and pulled out a memory stick. 

Even though Charlotte was drunk, she couldn't help but notice that Emma's house keys were right there in her handbag.

"These are some of my own songs," Emma said. She handed the memory stick to Charlotte. "You said you wanted to hear me."

"Thanks so much!" Charlotte leaned over and kissed Emma on the cheek. Emma was startled. Even though the contact was innocent, she felt guilty. She twisted her head. As she turned, their lips touched. They brushed together in a kiss, in the briefest of accidents. Emma loved how Charlotte tasted. Her lips were the flavour of Chardonnay. A jolt of electricity shot through them. They stared at each other for a moment.

Emma gulped at her wine.

"You gave me just what I wanted," Charlotte said. 

Emma gazed into Charlotte's eyes for a long time. She sat on the lawn. They talked. Charlotte opened another bottle of wine. They discussed music. 

"Do you ever listen to music while you're..." Charlotte smiled, mischievously. "While you're... you know..."

Emma didn't know how to answer that. Surely her boyfriend's mother wasn't talking about...

"While you're masturbating," Charlotte clarified.

"Um... I guess. The Dixie Chicks," Emma said. "And Tori Amos."

Charlotte nodded. She leaned in closer. "I need to know what to download. Which songs make you cum?"

"Er... I'm not sure I should be having this conversation with you, but..."

"Nonsense!" Charlotte giggled. "We're all girls together."

Emma wanted to share. "Well, it depends what mood you're in. There's Closer by Nine Inch Nails - actually, if I put Nine Inch Nails on, I don't even have to touch myself - there's Justify My Love by Madonna, and Raspberry Swirl by Tori Amos. They get me off in no time."

"I was hoping you'd tell me someone I'd heard of. Maybe I should write them down."

"What about you?"

"I like the theme to Swan Lake," Charlotte said.

Emma thought of the tiny ballerina constantly turning.

Charlotte picked up the memory stick Emma had given her. "I wonder whether your music would work."

Emma spat her wine out. 

Emma realised Charlotte was joking. They laughed.

Emma told her about a song she was writing, about a melody she was working out. Charlotte promised to come and see her when she played at the Pump House next week.

"I'll be your groupie," Charlotte said. She giggled, and thought she would carry on the joke. The drink had gone to her head. "Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to fuck you."

Emma's jaw dropped. Charlotte slurped the rest of her wine, and rolled over onto her front.

"I've got a headache," Emma lied. "I think it must be the sun."

Charlotte was disappointed. "I've got painkillers if you want."

"No thanks. Not after the wine. If it's okay with you, I think I'll just go and lie down for a while in Daniel's room."

"That's fine," Charlotte said. "But make sure you drink plenty of water first. I don't want you coming down with sun-stroke."

Emma didn't go to the kitchen. Her body yearned for something, but it wasn't water. She went upstairs, snuck into Charlotte's bedroom, and slid open the top drawer of the dresser. She stole Charlotte's vibrator again.

She was in a daze. She couldn't think straight. She heard Charlotte's voice in her mind... 'That doesn't mean I'm going to fuck you.' Soon, she had edited it, and all she could hear was Charlotte, her voice slurred by wine, telling her 'I'm going to fuck you!'

She hurried across the hallway into Daniel's bedroom. There was a poster on the wall from the first Transformers film; a massive photo of Megan Fox looking sultry. Something clicked in Emma's brain.

She lay back on her boyfriend's bed. He didn't have satin sheets like Charlotte, but she could smell him. The musky masculine aroma turned her on. At the same time, so did the poster of Megan Fox. The picture of Megan Fox bending over a car engine was hot, but it wasn't enough. She wasn't naked. She needed to see a naked woman. She wondered if Daniel had any porn. Where would he keep it?

She glanced at his chest of drawers. If Charlotte kept a vibrator in her top drawer, what did Daniel hide in his? Hopefully, she pulled it open. 

She found a pile of pages torn from magazines. 

There was nothing hardcore. They were glamour photos. The name of the magazine was printed in the top right corner of each page. There were pages torn from FHM, from NUTS and MAXIM and LOADED. Emma shuffled through them. Most of them were shots of the same two women: a buxom brunette named Lucy Pinder, and a big-breasted blonde named Michelle Marsh. They were topless. In some, they rolled around, breasts crushed against breasts. One of the photo shoots was of Lucy and Michelle in a sauna.

Emma unbuttoned her blouse. She toyed with her nipples.

She began to fantasise that she was naked in that sauna with Lucy Pinder, Michelle Marsh, Megan Fox and Charlotte for company. Wow! She imagined Megan Fox kissing Charlotte's breasts. They lay together on the top bench where the heat was almost unbearable. Skin sweated against skin. She imagined Michelle Marsh with her tongue inside Lucy Pinder's pussy. They were on the lower bench, which was cooler but they had a great view of the two women above them. Michelle's blonde hair was dark and straggly. Lucy's hair, like the other brunettes, turned jet-black and clung to her slippery shoulders. She listened to the song of their soft urgent moans. At first, she only watched them. She leaned against the wood, her skin beaded with sweat. The heat was fierce. She lifted a ladle and threw more water on the hot stones. It hissed and steam rose. She had to join in. The five women lay down on the floor in a circular daisy chain, mouth to pussy. She licked Charlotte. Charlotte tongued Michelle, who kissed Lucy, who sucked at Megan, who slurped hungrily at Emma. God, it was heaven! 

Emma put that magazine page aside, looking at the next one. Lucy and Michelle were naked except for England football shirts. She moved on to... Oh shit...

Concealed in between the magazine shoots of topless women were a few photos Daniel seemed to have taken himself. They were taken from his bedroom window, pointing down into the garden. They were of Charlotte sunbathing. She wore a tiny bikini. 

Emma was shocked.

In two of the photos, Charlotte lay on her back. Daniel had zoomed in, capturing her face and her breasts. A thin blue bikini top was draped over her nipples, but it covered little else. In a third photo, Charlotte lay on her front. This was a photo of her whole body, stretched out on the lawn. Her ass looked stunning. There was even less material hiding her nakedness in this photo. There was a string tied in the centre of her back and a tiny V of blue between her buttocks.

They were not family portraits. They were photos of Daniel's mother in a bikini, mixed up with magazine shoots he had collected of topless models. She understood precisely what Daniel used them for.

She thought of Daniel, lying on his bed. His cock was out, choked in his fist. He slid his hand up and down. His cock grew until it was engorged, hard and thick. In his other hand, he clutched a photo of his mother.

She knew she ought to feel disgusted at the thought of Daniel wanking over his mother. But then she knew how incredible Daniel's mother looked. The blue bikini clung to her body. Every swell and curve of her flesh was delicious. 

She spread the photos of Charlotte out on the bed.

Emma knelt on the bed on all fours. She spread her legs apart. Last time, she hadn't held on long enough for the vibrator to penetrate the folds of her pussy. This time, she needed it inside her. 

She moved the vibrator down to her pussy. It buzzed softly. She ran the length of it along the length of her slit. She felt herself open like a flower. She probed gently, moving the tip of the vibrator just inside. She increased the speed, working it harder and deeper. She imagined Charlotte held the vibrator. She devoured the sight of Charlotte in that bikini, her skin slippery with suntan lotion. 

She took the vibrator into her body. She slid it gently inside her. She moved it around, exploring, pressing the vibrating tip against her most sensitive places. She guided the sex toy on its incredible adventure. Her breasts were swollen. She massaged them with her free hand. She panted. She shuddered.

"Oh yes! Just there!" she whispered.

Emma allowed it to play on her clitoris.

She reached behind her, ramming Charlotte's vibrator deep into her pussy. She pushed backwards with her hips, swallowing the vibrator within her warm wet cleft. She left it there. She touched her clitoris with slick fingers. She tugged at it. She grunted, and grasped the vibrator. She pressed it violently against the bud of her clitoris, spasming with pleasure.

As she eyed the photos, she enjoyed the idea that she was fucking Charlotte's vibrator. The same sex toy that had stimulated Charlotte to so many orgasms, that had been coated with her juices, that had delved into her body, was now inside Emma. She loved the idea; something that had been inside Charlotte was now inside her.

Emma slapped her ass. She imagined Charlotte bending her over, telling her what a naughty girl she was being. What a dirty bitch! She spanked herself again. Harder and faster. She felt an orgasm blossoming. 

Someone knocked at the door. 

"Hey, Emma. Are you okay? I made some iced tea, if you want some." The door handle turned. It was Charlotte.

"Don't come in here!" Emma shrieked. The door began to open.

She jumped into her jeans, pulling them back up. She grabbed her blouse off the floor. She hurried to put it on. She killed the buzzing and hid Charlotte's vibrator in her hip pocket.

The door closed again. "Okay... I didn't mean to disturb you."

Emma swallowed. Her face was red. She was breathing rapidly. Her voice trembled. "I'm just... um... I'm just applying some after-sun cream." She scooped up the photos, threw them back into the drawer and slammed it shut. "I'll be downstairs in a minute."

When she got downstairs, Charlotte handed her a glass of iced tea. As she took the drink, Emma's eyes fastened on Charlotte's eyes. The two women seemed to share something. Charlotte smirked. They maintained eye-contact for a heartbeat longer than was comfortable. 

"Your blouse is on the wrong way round," Charlotte told her.

"I was wrong about getting locked out. I found my keys in my handbag. But I've still got a headache. Can you tell Daniel I'm going to go home and get some sleep."

"Whatever you want." Charlotte looked up from Emma's breasts, feeling a little embarrassed.

***

Emma got home. Her father and step-mother were in the living room watching TV. He was a psychotherapist with his own practice; she was a university lecturer. Together, they thought they had the perfect recipe for family life, but they were wrong. He flirted with his female patients, and spent his lunch break on the couch with his receptionist. She flirted with her postgraduate students, and had fucked half the men on the faculty. "Hi Dad, hi Wendy."

"Your dinner is in the oven," Wendy called.

"Thanks, but I've got this song I'm trying to work out," she said. She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time.

She passed her step-brother's bedroom. Peter was twenty-one, and was a computer freak. He sat at his desk. He was always on Facebook. Though he was good-looking, he was tall and thin as if he was made of chewing gum that had been stretched. She kept telling him he should lift some weights. She also thought he could shave once in a while. She didn't realise it, but she actively informed him of faults in his appearance to hide the fact that she would probably date him, if he wasn't her step-brother. He turned his head as she passed. "I've downloaded that album you wanted."

"Not now, Peter." Emma flew into her bedroom and locked the door.

She dove onto her bed. She unbuttoned her jeans. Her hands slid beneath her panties. She was desperate to feel her fingers between her legs. The thought of almost getting caught by Mrs. Garland earlier was turning her on. 

As she pulled her jeans down her legs, something fell out of the pocket onto the carpet.

"Oh shit!"

Emma realised she had accidentally stolen Charlotte's vibrator. She had slipped it into her pocket when Charlotte started to open the door. She had meant to creep into her bedroom later and put it back. She had forgotten. Oh well, she thought. As long as it was here, she might as well use it.

Peter heard his step-sister's bed creaking. He shut his bedroom door. Their rooms were next to each other. He had started listening at the wall months ago. Their bedrooms had once been one large room, but his step-father had divided it into two rooms. It was only a stud wall, a thin barrier of plasterboard on a timber frame. He had wanted to hear her play her guitar, to listen to her singing. But it had developed into more than that. He knew the difference between her climbing into bed to go to sleep and her jumping into bed to masturbate. He heard the bedsprings bouncing in an urgent rhythm. He shoved his ear hard up against the connecting wall. At first, all he could hear was his own heartbeat, his blood pumping faster round his body. He didn't feel right doing this. But Christ, his step-sister was hot! He couldn't change the way he felt about her. He loved her. He loved the crinkle above her nose when she concentrated. He loved her music, he loved her poetry. He wanted her to sing to him. He loved her fickle nature. He loved her red hair and her green eyes. He wanted to lie in bed with her and stare into those eyes. He loved her luscious body; he wanted to lick her all over. He loved how she looked on stage in boots, tight jeans, and a vest top. He listened to her ragged breathing.

He unzipped his jeans and his cock sprang out. He grasped it, working it up and down. He imagined her hands all over him. He pictured her long fingers wrapped round his cock, pulling him towards her kissable lips. He imagined her pretty green eyes staring up at him as she took his cock into her mouth. He imagined pressing her head into his crotch, his hands buried in her wild tangle of red hair.

Emma got up off the bed. She fantasised that Charlotte deliberately walked in on her while she was showering. She tucked her fingers into her pussy. She imagined Charlotte shoving her against the shower wall, fingering her. Emma backed up against her bedroom wall. It felt cold. Like hard satin sheets. She moaned as Charlotte kissed her neck. 

Peter heard Emma's back slap against the wall. He worked his cock furiously, imagining her knelt down in front of him. 

"Oh God... Emma..." Peter moaned. His fist pumped faster and faster.

Emma stopped, horrified. She could hear Peter through the wall.

Her first instinct was to sneak back to her bed. Maybe finish herself off quietly. But she was too excited. She thought about Daniel having photos of his mother in a bikini. She imagined him masturbating over them. Something about that excited her. Perhaps it was the dark thought of incest. She was fascinated by the forbidden nature of his lust, and enthralled by the knowledge her step-brother was masturbating over her too. Did everyone nurture these desires, she wondered? 

She pushed her hand further into her pussy. She clenched her hand, turning it into a fist. She closed her eyes as a wave of pleasure surged through her. She fisted herself, grunting and groaning. To start with, she was thinking of Charlotte. 

But, as she heard the slapping sound of Peter's cock, her fantasy shifted. Her fist, shoved inside her, was no longer Charlotte's fist. It was Peter's cock. 

The lips she kissed were no longer Charlotte's soft luscious lips. They were Peter's lips, hard and urgent. She could feel his stubble against her face. She lost herself in his glowering eyes. She ignored how wrong this was, protected by his strong embrace.

She moaned. "Peter... faster... harder..." She was intentionally loud. 

She grabbed the vibrator. She plunged it inside her. She imagined it was Peter's cock.

"Oh God, oh God..." she moaned.

Peter was going to come. He knew he ought to stop. They could still pretend this hadn't happened. They would both know they had listened to the other masturbating. But he wasn't certain she had heard him when he called her name. Conversely, she couldn't be unsure whether he had heard her moaning his name. There was still a certain deniability about the whole thing. 

Emma slapped her hand against the wall. It was a signal to him. She knew he was there. In the back of her mind, she realised this wasn't what you would expect from a lesbian. Perhaps there was no point in putting a label on herself. She was now certain there was no such thing as normal sexuality.

He thumped on the wall. He told her he knew she was there too. He and his step-sister were masturbating together, back pressed against back, with only a couple of sheets of plasterboard between their bodies.

He came. He pictured his cum splurging onto her face, coating her lips. He thought of her licking him clean.

She played herslef like a guitar. She had been strumming in time. Now she hit the power chords. Her knees buckled.

He groaned. "Emma!"

She sighed. "Peter!"

He stood there, covered in his own semen. He yearned to go to her, but knew he couldn't.

She stood there, shaking. What the fuck had she done?

FRIDAY

----------

Emma answered the door. Daniel stood there, holding a bottle of wine and a dozen pink roses. He knew pink was Emma's favourite colour. She kissed him. It was a long deep kiss.

Emma had been thinking long and hard about everything. She remained confused about her sexuality. She couldn't keep pace with her hormones. All she knew was that she wanted somebody. She had been making love to herself for months now. She needed sex tonight.

She leaned into Daniel. She put her hand between his legs, rubbing his cock. It grew stiff. It bulged against his jeans. They kissed again, hungrily. She whispered into his ear.

"Let's go up to my room," she said.

This was going to be the night. Daniel was sure of it. 

They went upstairs. Emma first. Daniel stared at her ass as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.

They sat on the bed. 

"This is nice," he said. "They're just like my mother's."

Emma had been out and bought red satin sheets. She tried to ignore his comment. Her cheeks burned crimson. Emma put the flowers in a crystal vase.

"I hope she's okay tonight," Daniel said.

"Who?"

Daniel poured the wine. "My mother. She's going out after work for her birthday drinks. There's some guy she's interested in."

Emma thought of Charlotte lying naked in a man's embrace. Her heart raced. She felt jealous.

"I think if I'm here, if I'm out of the way, it gives her some privacy so she can do whatever she wants." He grinned. "As well as letting us do whatever we want."

Daniel handed her a glass of wine, and kissed her neck.




Call Me Charlotte Ch. 04



Emma met his lips with her own. She had thought they would make love tonight. She had thought she might, once and for all, put this lesbian crush behind her. But she couldn't. All she could think of was Daniel's mother. She couldn't bear to think of Charlotte with someone else.

All of a sudden, she knew what to do. She would sabotage Charlotte's plan. She decided right then to argue with Daniel about something, about anything, until he stormed out. She wanted him to go home, and intrude upon his mother's privacy.

"Don't..." Emma said, pushing him away.

***

As usual, Peter was listening through the wall. He wasn't turned on. His fists were clenched. He wanted to storm into his sister's room and beat Daniel's head in. He didn't know what the guy was doing in there, but his imagination ran riot. 

He could hear raised voices.

That was enough! Peter headed for his bedroom door. He stood in front of it, debating whether to go into her room. Emma hadn't spoken to him all day. Now she and her boyfriend were screaming at each other. Peter wanted to tear Daniel's head off. 

Peter heard Daniel shout. "I'm going! You stay away from me! And stay away from my mother too!"

Peter heard stamping on the staircase, and a door slam. Daniel had left the house. He plucked up the courage to open his bedroom door and go to Emma's room. He knocked gently against his sister's door.

"Hey, you okay in there? I heard shouting."

"Fuck off, Peter!"

Peter went back to his room. He lay on his bed, his fists clenched. His fingernails drew blood as they dug into his palms. He glared at the ceiling.

***

Emma sat naked on her bed. The bedsheets were disturbed. She was exhausted from imagining Charlotte sharing the bed with her. Their bodies twisted together, their lips locked, their tongues entwined. Between her legs was the crystal vase. She held it there, clamped between her thighs. She enjoyed the sensation of its coldness against her throbbing pussy. She was exhausted. She had come three times, but her cunt was still on fire. Sweat sparkled on her body. God, she felt so horny. She plucked at the pink rose petals, dropping them in her lap. They were soft and velvety on her skin, the way she imagined Charlotte's lips would feel there.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, as she tore at the flowers.

"She loves me, she loves me not. She loves me, she loves me not..."

SATURDAY

--------------

Emma was still crying the next morning. Rose petals clung to her skin. She had shoved them into her pussy, enjoying their silky touch on her clitoris. She wasn't weeping because of Daniel. He was a good guy, but right now he didn't have what she needed. Emma cried because she would no longer have the chance to spend time around Daniel's mother. 

She sat up on the bed. Wait a minute! Daniel had left some of his belongings here. She sent him a text message, hoping he wouldn't reply. 

***

"So, have you finally got rid of that loser?" Peter asked.

Emma and Peter had barely spoken all week. 

Emma said nothing. She picked up a rucksack full of clothes, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter said.

"I'm going to Daniel's house. I've got some of his things to return."

Peter felt panic. "You can't," he said. "You'll get back together with him. It's a mistake."

"It's none of your business," Emma said. She put her hand on the doorknob.

Peter grabbed her, pulling her back into the room. "Please don't go," he begged.

"Get off me!" Emma wrestled with him, enjoying the weird thrill of being held in his strong arms. She pushed him into the wall. She glared at her step-brother, almost losing herself in his hungry eyes. "Look! You don't own me! I'll do what I want."

Peter glanced down. "I'm sorry. I just thought..." he looked into her pretty green eyes. "Sometimes I don't think of you as my sister."

"I know," Emma said. She had to be horrible to him. She had to hurt him. "You think I couldn't hear you the other night? I heard you moaning my name while you tossed yourself off! That wall is really thin, you sick fuck!"

Peter's face turned crimson. "But... you were..." He shook his head. "You were moaning my name too..." He frowned, no longer certain. "Weren't you?"

"In your dreams!" she scoffed.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!" He pushed past her and opened the door.

"Where are you going?" Emma teased. "Can't take the pressure?"

"I'm going to the clubhouse," said Peter. 

"Looking for a sexy redhead?" Emma laughed.

"No. I'm going to get pissed with Jim and the lads."

***

Emma rang the doorbell at Daniel's house. She waited. She was wearing skinny jeans and a black boob tube. She got no answer.

The truth was that she didn't want to see her ex-boyfriend. She had sent him a few text messages through the day, and he hadn't returned them. She had left it till now to come round, knowing that he had been planning to go out to watch the football. That meant he was probably in the pub, or in the clubhouse, drowning his sorrows. It also meant that Charlotte would be at home, all by herself.

Emma didn't know exactly what she intended to do. Who was she kidding? If she got half a chance, she was going to throw herself at Charlotte. She was going to beg her, plead with her. She wanted to kiss Charlotte, to touch her, to taste her. She hoped Charlotte had fallen in love with her music. Or, at the very least, she hoped Charlotte was drunk.

She wondered whether Mrs. Garland was in the garden. Perhaps she had moved on from sunbathing this afternoon to sitting with a bottle or two of wine, listening to her new iPod, and watching the sun go down.

Emma took a deep breath and opened the door to the side passage. It led around the house to the back garden. 

There was nobody in the garden. The solar lamps glowed, making the flower beds look like an alien landing strip. Emma was about to leave, disappointed, but then she noticed the back door was wide open. The kitchen light was on. Someone was home.

"Hello?" she called. "Mrs. Garland?"

Emma got no answer, but she could hear the TV was on. She stepped into the house.

"Uhnnnnn!" she heard. "Oh fuuuuck!" It was a female voice. Unrecognisable in the heat of passion, but definitely female.

This was it! Daniel was out, and Charlotte was home. It sounded a lot like she was fucking herself. Emma didn't know of any woman in the world who had the strength to resist the urge to fuck, if an attractive and willing sexual partner walked in on them while they were masturbating. If nothing else, going from the embarrasment of being caught masturbating to fucking the brains out of whoever walked in on you, was a great way to recover some composure. Emma looked at the back door. There was still time to leave. But the thought of walking in on Charlotte masturbating drove her towards the living room. 

She knew what to say. She had rehearsed it, trying to sound casual and sexy at the same time. "That looks like fun. Let me give you a hand!"

She strode into the living room, her chest pushed out, her chin up, radiating self-confidence, hoping she would find her ex-boyfriend's mother semi-naked on the sofa. 

"Oh my God!"

She clattered to a halt. Her posture slumped. She hadn't expected this. 

Daniel lay on the floor. He was naked, covered in sticky red jam. 

He was all over some girl. She wore only a pair of denim shorts that were already unbuttoned. Her breasts and her face were smeared with chocolate. They both stopped what they were doing and stared at her. They looked as shocked as she felt.

The floorboards were a mess, with chocolate and cream smeared everywhere like an abstract painting. Here and there, Emma noticed a couple of large oval shapes in the chocolate on the floor. She assumed they were bum prints. 

"What the fuck!" Emma said. She glared at Daniel, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I know I shouldn't have just walked in, but..." She put the rucksack down. "I was just returning your stuff. I rang the bell, but I couldn't get any answer. The back door was open."

Daniel tried to cover himself up. "Shit!" 

"We only broke up last night, and you're fucking another girl already." She shook her head. "You didn't waste any time!"

She glanced at the topless woman, at her chocolate-covered torso, and her cream-caked face. She had squashed cherries clinging to her nipples. Annoyingly, Emma felt aroused. She wondered what those cherries tasted like. "Who the hell is this?"

Charlotte wiped the cream off her face.

Emma realised who it was. She stepped backwards.

"Oh Jesus! No, way!" Emma suddenly knew what was happening. She thought of the bikini photos Daniel kept of Charlotte. She had no idea...

She had caught Daniel making love to his mother. She had caught them smothering each other in birthday cake. "Mrs. Garland! That's disgusting..."

Charlotte lay there, half naked, covered in chocolate. She looked at Daniel and shrugged. Her only clothing was a tight pair of denim shorts. Daniel looked terrified. He didn't know what to do. He only wore a coating of cherry jelly.

Emma didn't know where to look. Thoughts of her own sexual longing evaporated. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't think of anything to say. She was utterly stunned.

She tried to leave, turning on her heel, but she slipped on a smear of gateau. Her legs flew out from under her. She held out her hands to stop herself. She landed on top of Charlotte, her hands grabbing the other woman's breasts. 

Charlotte gasped. She glanced into Emmma's eyes. "If you wanted some cake, you should have just asked."

Emma was frozen. Her hands didn't move. She had never touched another woman sexually before. She had wanted to feel this woman for so long. 

Emma only had one phrase in her head. It was the one she had rehearsed. "That looks like fun. Let me give you a hand!" She dredged up the courage to squeeze gently. Chocolate sauce seeped through Emma's fingers. Then she squeezed harder, as if she wanted to pop a couple of balloons.

Charlotte groaned. "Mmmmmmmm uhhhhh."

"Holy shit!" said Daniel. His dick sprang to attention as his ex-girlfriend carressed his mother's tits. He nearly exploded.

Emma, overwhelmed by lust, gazed into the older woman's eyes. "I'm sorry for falling on you, Mrs. Garland."

"Call me Charlotte," she said as she snaked her hips out of her denim shorts. She kicked them over to Daniel. She lay beneath Emma, slippery with chocolate, with her legs wide apart.

Emma stared at Charlotte's pussy. It reminded her of the folded petals of a dusky pink rose.