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Stangers in the Night, Sexy Call

By: SusanJillParker



"Ring, ring..."

"Hello?"

"Hi," he said in a deep, rich voice that made him sound as if he was a radio announcer.

"Who's this?

"I want to touch you," he said.

"Pardon?" She looked at the caller ID, unknown caller. "You woke me up."

"I want to touch you," he said again. "I want to feel you and fondle you through your clothes.

"You want to touch me? You want to feel and fondle me through my clothes?" She laughed. "You must be drunk. You have the wrong number," said Christine now sorry she answered an unknown caller and ready to hang up the phone.

"Wait. Don't hang up the phone," he said. "Please, don't hang up the phone. Talk to me," he said suddenly sounding as pathetic now as he was confidentially in control before.

"Why shouldn't I hang up the phone?"

There was something about his voice that intrigued her. She wondered if he was someone she knew from the office. Maybe he was the husband of one of her friends.

"Because I want to feel your big tits," said the caller as if he knew she had big breasts.

"What?" She was shocked. As if he could see in her bedroom, she put her hand to the top of her nightgown to deny him a look of her cleavage. "You want to feel my big tits?" She was tired and now she was exasperated but she was also horny, the only reason why she didn't hang up the phone. "Who is this?"

"I'd give anything to make love to you," he said.

"You want to make love to me? God," she said wanting to suddenly masturbate herself. "If I you didn't wake me up horny, I'd hang up the phone right now."

"I'm horny too," he said. "Don't go. Please don't go. Play with me. I'm lonely."

"Play with you? That's absurd. How can I play with you? I don't even know who you are or where you are," she said.

"I'm right here on the phone talking to you. We don't have to be together in person to play our sexy game," he said in such a sexy voice that she wanted to kiss him.

"Why should I play with you, a stranger calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Because I'm horny too," he said. "If you help me cum, I'll help you cum. We can cum together as if I'm there with you having sex in your bedroom."

"How can you possibly give me an orgasm?" She was intrigued by the possibility of him cumming while she had an orgasm.

"With my words. I'll give you an orgasm with my words. Just tell me what to say. Tell me what sexually excites you," he said. "Tell me what makes you all hot and bothered," he said pausing, "and wet."

"Oh, God," she said fanning herself with her hand. Suddenly hot, either she was having a hot flash or he was successful in sexually arousing her. "You have a nice voice but I know it's not your voice. I can tell that you're somehow disguising your voice," she said moving her hand to her breast. "And that makes me think that you know me enough to make me cum."

"Because you don't know me and I don't know you, you can tell me all of your sexy secrets. I'm just a stranger in the night making a sexy call while hoping to receive a release of sexual tension," he said pausing as if waiting for her to respond and when she didn't, he continued. "You have a sexy voice too. I like your voice. I can tell a lot by your voice," he said.

"What can you possibly tell from my voice?"

"I can tell that you don't smoke. You don't have that raspy voice filled with phlegm. You have a sexy and sensual voice. You have a voice that's seemingly hungry for affection. Furthermore, you have a voice that tells me that you're just as horny as I am," he said.

"Too tired to think and unable to place you enough to recognize your voice," she said with a yawn. "You sound like someone I know," she said. "You must know me for you to call me. Surely, you just wouldn't randomly call a stranger."

"If I am someone you know, who do you think I am?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Why not?"

"Because you'd think me perverted for not scolding you and hanging up the phone," she said. "Seriously, do I know you?"

"No," he said with emphatically.

"Then who are you? What's your name?"

"Does it matter what my name is? As if I'm a stranger on the Internet, your cyber friend, I could tell you any name. I could be anyone. I could be someone you never met or someone you know," he said teasing her curiosity.

"I need to call you something," she said.

"What's your favorite name? You may call me by that."

"Robert," she said. "Robert is my favorite name."

"Then, you may call me Robert," he said.

"I'd like that," she said.

"Why would you like that, calling me Robert? Do you know someone named Robert?"

"No one," she said with a thoughtful pause. "Actually, I do. My son's name is Robert. I named my son Robert. There's just something strong and commanding about that name. I've always liked that name," she said. "Robert DeNiro, Robert Kennedy, Robert Frost, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Robert Mitchum, Robert E. Lee, Robert Browning, and my favorite Robert, Robert Redford.

"So, just between us, tell me and be honest, do you like to be commanded?"

"Sometimes," said Christine. "Why not? I'm a woman. I'm used to men bossing me around and telling me what to do and what not to do, even during sex, especially during sex."

"Do you like being punished?"

"Sometimes, I do, if I've been naughty," she in a sexy voice.

"And how should I punish you for being naughty?"

"I like being spanked. I like having my naked ass slapped but not too hard and not hard enough to leave a mark on my pristine ass," she said.

"What else?"

"I like being teased," she said.

"Teased how?"

"Teased to make me sexually want you," she said.

"If I were there right now, I'd tease you with my cock after I spanked you," he said. "Would you like that? Would you like for me to tease you with my cock after spanking you?"

"That depends," she said. "How would you tease me with your cock?"

"I'd undress and then turn away before you saw my cock. I'd have you close your eyes and run my cock all over your naked body and along your lips," he said.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "I'd like for you to tease me with your cock."

"What should I call you?"

"What would you like to call me?"

"I'd like to call you by your real name so that I can dream of you later tonight," he said.

"Being that you already have my telephone number, I won't give you my real name. Besides, I could be making up a name," she said.

"Then, make up a name. What's your favorite name?"

"Elizabeth. I've always liked that name. It's beautiful. It's an old soul name," she said. "I always wished my mother named me after Queen Elizabeth or Elizabeth Taylor.

"Tell me Elizabeth..."

"Yes?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Well, being that you woke me up from a sound sleep, I'm wearing my nightgown," she said.

"What color nightgown is it?"

"It's blue?"

"What else?"

"What else what?"

"Is it long, short, low cut, cotton, or flannel?"

"Oh. It's cotton. It's short. And it's low cut," she said.

"If I could see you now, how much of your big, beautiful breasts could I see?"

"Quite a bit. You'd see the tops of my breasts and my cleavage," she said looking down at herself. "But how do you know that I have big breasts?"

"It's just a guess. Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you have big breasts?"

"Yes," she said putting her hand to her breast to feel one.

"What size?"

"Thirty-four C," she said.

"Wow," he said. "That's is impressive."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you have a big cock?"

"I like thinking that I do. If six inches is average than I'm bigger than average," he said.

"If six inches is average than how much bigger than average are you?" 

"I'm the same size as my hat size," he said with a confident laugh.

"And what size is that?"

"Seven and a quarter," he said.

"Wow," she said. "That is impressive. Now you can boast to everyone that you have a cock as big as your head," she said with a laugh.

"Are you touching yourself now?"

"No," she said.

"Why not?"

"Why should I? You haven't said anything to sexually arouse me," she said with attitude. "Are you touching yourself?"

"I haven't stopped touching myself since you answered the phone," he said. "Tell me then, what should I say to make you touch yourself?"

"You can compliment me. You can say that I'm pretty," she said.

"I don't know that you are pretty but I imagine that you are pretty by your voice. What do you look like?"

"I could make up what I look like," she said. "How would you know if I was telling you the truth of lying?"

"You could exaggerate about your good looks but that would only ruin our little game," he said. 

"Certainly, and seemingly, it would, no doubt, ruin our little game if I wasn't good looking," she said.

"Yet, somehow, trusting that you are, I know that you are good looking," he said.

"I'm blonde," she said. "Naturally blonde, none of that fake color they use out of a bottle that never looks real, especially with their dark eyebrows and dark brown pubic hair," she said with a dirty laugh.

"If I'm not asking too personal of a question, what color is your pubic hair?"

"That's rich. An obscene phone calling apologizing for asking too personal of a question," she said with a laugh. "It's blonde. My pubic hair is blonde and just a shade darker than the hair on my head."

"Suddenly, I imagine myself fingering you before licking you," he said.

"I'd like that, you fingering me before licking me," she said.

"What else?"

"What else what?"

"Tell me more about what you look like," he said.

"I have blue eyes," she said.

"How tall are you?"

"I'm 5'5" tall almost 5'6" tall," she said.

"If you were to pick a celebrity," he said. "Who do you most resemble?"

"Men have said that I look like Naomi Watts," she said.

"Wow, she's hot and if you look anything like you, you must be stunning," he said. "What else?"

"What else what?"

"How old are you?"

"Does that matter how old I am?"

"Ah, for you not to readily tell me your age, seemingly your age is a sore spot. You must be older," he said.

"I don't know why you need to know my age to play this silly, sexy game," she said with impatience.

"If you're older than me, I'd like to know how much older than me you are. That's all," he said.

"I'm forty-five," she said after a long pause as if debating if she should tell him her real age or not.

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-three," he said.

"Answer me this then," he said.

"What?"

"Are you a cougar or a MILF?"

"MILF? What's a MILF? Is that even a word or something you just manufactured?"

"A MILF is a mother that I'd like to fuck," he said.

"I don't know if I'm a MILF or a cougar then," she said.

"Do you have children?"

"I do," she said.

"How many?"

"Just one," she said.

"A boy or a girl?"

"A boy. I have a son," she said.

"How old?"

"He's your age," she said. "I guess, being that I have a child that makes me a MILF and not a cougar. I usually don't go much for younger men," she said. "Perhaps being that I have a younger man at home, I've never dated a younger man. I'd feel foolish if my son knew that I was dating someone his age or close to his age."

"You son lives with you?"

"Yes. He just graduated college and is actively looking for a job," she said.

"Tell me. Other than you'd feel foolish dating a man close to your son's age, especially if you look anything like Naomi Watts, why wouldn't you date a younger man? All men my age are hot for older women," he said.

"Because I'd rather have a conversation before, during, and after sex," she said with a laugh.

"We're having a conversation now, aren't we?"

"Yes we are but we're talking about sex," she said with another laugh.

"We don't only have to talk about sex. We can talk about other things. We can talk about whatever you'd like, politics and religion, instead of masturbation," he said with a dirty laugh.

"You'd be the first obscene phone caller to call me at midnight to talk about politics and religion. Besides, I'm too tired to talk about other things. I just want to go to sleep," she said.

"Please don't go. Play with me. I need to cum," he said.

"Is this something that someone your age does?"

"What do you mean?"

"Call strange women in the night while hoping to get a live one to talk dirty to them?"

"I've never called a woman before like this. You're my first one," he said.

"I'd like to think that my son isn't like that, like you and seemingly perverted enough to make an obscene call," she said.

"Has my call been obscene?"

"No, not really," she said. "You haven't said anything that I haven't said to my friends both male and female."

"Do you think me perverted?"

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know any perverts to judge if you are or not. You would know better than I would if you're perverted or not. Are you perverted?"

"I'm not perverted. I'm just horny, alone, and lonely," he said.

"Why does your voice sound like that?"

"Like what?"

"Your voice is weird as if you're far away but amplified as if you're the wizard on the Wizard of Oz," she said with a laugh.

"I have you on speaker phone," he said.

"Speaker phone? Why?" Suddenly she panicked. "Is there someone else there?"

"No, just me," he said. "I'm alone. I just wanted to keep my hands free, if you know what I mean," he said laughing.

"I see and I know what you mean," she said. "Take me off speaker phone then."

"There. Is that better?"

"Yes, much better but now your voice sounds muffled," she said.

"I have a handkerchief over the mouthpiece," he said.

"A handkerchief," she laughed. "Like in the old detective movies," she said. "My Dad always carried a snot rag in his back pocket."

"I can assure you that there are no snots on my handkerchief," he said laughing. "Do you like movies?"

"I do," she said.

"Maybe we could see one sometime," he said,

"Maybe," she said. "Only, why would a 23-year-old man what to go see a movie with a 45-year-old woman?"

"Why wouldn't I want to see a movie with you? By you not hanging up the phone, you seem as adventurous as you sound fun," he said.

"Now that you have an idea of what I look like, what do you look like?"

"I'm tall," he said.

"How tall?"

"Six foot two," he said.

"You're the same height as my son," she said.

"And you hair and eyes, what color are they?"

"I have brown hair and blue eyes," he said.

"God, my son has brown hair and blue eyes. While imagining you standing before me naked, talking to you is as if I'm talking to my son," she said.

"And what's wrong with you imagining me or your son, for that matter, naked?"

"Nothing. If anything it's sexually arousing that I'm imagining this kind of inappropriate, incestuously sexual conversation with my son," she said.

"I like the fact that your son sexually arouses you," he said.

"More about that later," she said with a nervous laugh while ignoring him. "Are you considered good looking?"

"I am," he said.

"Then, I don't understand," she said.

"What don't you understand?"

"If you're good looking, why are you lonely? Why are you horny? Why don't you have a naked woman next to you in bed now instead of calling me, a stranger in the middle of the night?"

"I'm fussy," he said.

"Fussy? You're not being so fussy by calling me blind. Fussy how?"

"I'm attracted to older women," he said.

"You're just saying that because I'm an older woman," she said.

"I'm not," he said.

"How old must a woman be to attract you?"

"Someone your age. A woman in her forties. A woman who takes care of herself," he said. "By that age, women are done with playing games. Women know what they want. Women are ready to have sex without all of the guilt and remorse," he said.

"You seem to know a lot about older woman," she said.

"My mother is an older woman. Everything I know, I've learned from her," he said.

"Oh, so you must be one of those men who wants to have sex with his mother," she said with a laugh.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because according to Freud every young man wants to have sex with his mother," she said. "Is that true for you? Do you want to have sex with your mother?"

"Actually, I do," he said. "Definitely, if the opportunity presented itself, I'd have sex with my mother."

"Tell me this then, Robert, have you ever sexually fantasized over having sex with your mother while masturbating yourself," she said.

"Actually, I have sexually fantasized over having sex with my mother while masturbating myself, Elizabeth," he said unabashed and unashamed.

"Really? You have?"

"Yes," he said. "Why? Suddenly, you seem as sexually interested as you seem sexually excited."

"I am suddenly sexually excited," she said.

"Why? What did I say to sexually arouse you?"

"It's not so much what you said but more what I was thinking. Your confession that you've masturbated yourself while thinking about having sex with your mother makes me wonder if my son ever fantasized about having sex with me while masturbating himself," she said.

"Probably he has. I'm sure he has especially you with your blonde hair, blue eyes, big tits, and with you looking like Naomi Watts," he said. "Tell me this then."

"Tell you what? What would you like to know," she said fingering her nipple through her nightgown.

"Have you ever flashed your son deliberately or inadvertently?"

"No, I've never deliberately flashed my son but I'm sure that I've accidentally flashed him my bra with a down blouse view or my panties in an up skirt view," she said.

"Has he ever seen you naked?"

"Naked? Certainly not. At least I hope not, unless he was peeping on me. I'd be so embarrassed if he saw me without my clothes," she said.

"Has he ever seen you topless? Has he ever seen your big, firm, C cup breasts?"

"Okay, now you're getting a little perverted. Are you playing with yourself?"

"I am," he said. "I'm stroking my cock while imagining you stroking my cock. Matter of fact, I haven't stopped stroking my cock since you answered up the phone."

"God, you make me horny to know that your hand is around your hard prick," she said. "It's been a long while since I've had a hard cock in my hand, in my mouth, and in my pussy, since before I divorced my husband."

"Did you ever cheat on your husband?"

"No, never, but he cheated on me with my best friend, the reason why we're divorced and they're together," she said.

"That explains why you're horny," he said. "You're sexually frustrated."

"You're right. I am sexually frustrated. Yet, getting back to my son, even though I don't think he has seen me topless and/or naked, it excites me to think that my son may think of me topless and/or naked and/or having sex with me whenever he masturbates himself," she said with a dirty, little laugh. "Tell me in detail what you think of when fantasizing over having sex with your mother," she said.

"If I tell you what I think about when thinking about my mother while masturbating, will you touch yourself?"

"Yes," she said. "Actually, I'm touching myself now. I was just fingering my nipple before reaching down to finger my pussy."

"I can tell you're sexually aroused thinking about me having sex with my mother," he said. "I can tell you're aroused thinking that your son may think of you when he masturbates."

"How can you tell?"

"Your breathing is different, shallower," he said. "Are you touching yourself?

"I am," she said. "I'm fingering my pussy as we speak."

"Why does thinking of me with my mother while masturbating excite you?"

"Because sometimes," she said pausing. "Oh, God, I can't believe I'm going to confess this to a stranger."

"Please. Don't stop now. Tell me," he said.

"Sometimes I think about my son," she said falling silent.

"You mean you think about your son sexually?"


Stangers in the Night, Sexy Call



"I do," she said seemingly with sadness and/or with sexual frustration.

"And what do you think about when thinking about your son?"

"I think about seeing him naked? I think about him flashing me or me catching him naked somehow. I think about seeing his perfect, round ass and his flaccid cock bouncing and swaying. I think about the entire naked image of him strutting around in front of me unashamed and unembarrassed without his clothes. I think about his cock stiffening as soon as he sees me watching him," she said.

"Wow," he said. "That's hot."

"And you? Do you think about your mother naked?"

"Of course, I do," he said with a dirty laugh. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Sigmund Freud now, would I?"

"Is your mother pretty?"

"She is," he said. "She's very pretty. She's your age but she doesn't look it. She looks more like she's 35-years-old than she looks 45-years-old. No one would guess that she's over 40-years-old."

"Tell me, if you had the opportunity to have sex with your mother, would you?"

"It depends," he said.

"It depends? On what? What would make you want to have sex with your mother or not?"

"It depends on the circumstances," he said. 

"On what circumstances?"

"The timing of the event is critical. We must be alone and she must want me as much as I want her. If she wanted to have sex with me as much as I wanted to have sex with her, I'd definitely have sex with her. Yet, there'd have to be no guilt, no remorse, and no attachments," he said. "Only, unable to make the first move, I've been waiting for her to give me a sign that she'd like to be sexually intimate with me."

"Attachments? What do you mean by attachments?"

"I mean, that if I was to meet someone else, someone younger, I'd want my mother to be okay with us breaking off our incestuous, sexual arrangement," he said.

"I see. I'd accept that arrangement, if I was having sex with my son," she said. "Yet, being that she's your mother and you're her son, I suspect she'd never make the first move. I know that, even though I'd love to have passionate sex with my son, I'd never make the first move in seducing my son. Actually, I'm in the same boat as you are. I've been waiting for my son to make the first move. If ever he made the first move, I'd eagerly make all of the other moves," she said with a sad, little laugh.

"I guess it's a stalemate. With one afraid to approach the other for fear of rejection and for fear that he or she may be deemed incestuously perverted, we lust over one another from afar," he said.

"It's all so sexually frustrating, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"You thinking of having sex with your mother and me imagining having sex with my son. If we were together now, I'd pretend to be your mother and you could pretend to be my son," she said.

"That works for me," he said with a dirty laugh. "Only, tell me, other than imagining your son naked, what else do you imagine when imagining having sex with your son?"

"God, you're making me so very horny," she said. "I can't believe how much I've already revealed to you, a total stranger."

"I'm making you horny? Really? Tell me how I'm making you so very horny?"

"You're pushing my buttons," she said.

"If I was there with you now, I'd be pushing more than your buttons Elizabeth," he said laughing.

"Here you are a complete stranger, someone who called me on the phone in the middle of the night and I'm confessing my deepest and darkest secrets. You could be anyone. You could be someone I know," she said. "I'd be so embarrassed if I knew you and you knew me. I could never face you in public if we knew one another."

"I assure you that I don't know you," he said. "I called you randomly. I just dialed a number. So tell me what do you think about when thinking about your son?"

"I think about touching him," she said.

"Touching him? Touching him where?"

"Holding him in my arms while he's naked," she said.

"And are you naked too?"

"Oh, God, yes," she said. "I'm naked. I can feel my breasts squished against his chest, his arms wrapped about my back, and his cock pressed against my soft belly."

"What else? Tell me," he said.

"You're really liking this," she said. "You're really getting off on this, aren't you?"

"I am. I'm imagining that you're my mother confessing all of this to me while I'm stroking my cock," he said.

"I imagine kissing him, really kissing him, French kissing him," she said. "I think about making out with him. He has nice lips and I'd like nothing more than to kiss and kiss him while he touched me where no son should ever touch his mother and where no son should ever feel her son."

"I'd like that. I wouldn't mind my mother and/or you French kissing me while I felt her and while she felt me," he said. "What else?"

"I imagine touching his penis with my fingertips before fondling the head of his cock. I imagine gently cupping his testicles in the palm of my hand. I imagine wrapping my fingers around his penis and slowly stroking his cock," she said. "Oh God, I'm so wet," she said. "I'm so frigging horny."

"I wouldn't mind my mother giving me a hand job," he said. "I'd love to feel my mother's hand on my big, hard prick while I played with her tits and fingered her nipples. I only wish my mother would suck my cock."

"Tell me, are you touching yourself?"

"Yes," he said.

"I'm touching myself too," she said. "Tell me what you're imagining right now while touching yourself. Are you imagining me touching you or are you imagining your mother touching you?"

"Both. I'm imagining you touching, fondling, and stroking my cock when not imagining my mother touching, fondling, and stroking my cock," he said.

"It's exciting for me to think about touching you, a stranger as much as it excites me to think about touching my son, fondling his cock, and stroking him while he feels my tits and fingers my nipples," she said.

"What else do you imagine when imagining stroking your son?"

"Oh God. I imagine going down on him."

"Seriously? You imagined blowing your son?"

"Of course. I imagine touching my lips with the head of his penis, actually sliding across my lips back and forth as if his erect prick is a tube of lipstick. Then, while staring up at his blue eyes with my blue eyes, I imagine flicking out my tongue and licking his cock before taking his cock in my mouth. While watching his reaction to me sucking his big prick, I imagine blowing him. I imagine sucking his cock. I imagine giving my son pleasure with my mouth while stroking him with my hand," she said. "Oh God. You're making me so frigging horny."

"You're making me horny too," he said. "I wish you could blow me right now. Tell me, if I was there with you, would you suck my cock?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm so horny that I'd suck your cock. I'd give you the best blowjob of your life. Only, you'd have to promise to fuck me after I blew you."

"I promise," he said. "Tell me, do you imagine me cumming in your mouth?"

"Yes," she said.

"How about you son? Do you imagine your son cumming in your mouth too?"

"Yes, of course, I imagine my son cumming in my mouth. It wouldn't be much of a blowjob if he didn't cum in my mouth," she said.

"Would you swallow your son?"

"Oh, God yes. I would," she said. "I'd suck him dry before licking him clean."

"What else?"

"What else what?"

"Would you allow him to make love to you?"

"Oh, my God. Stop it. If only he would, I would," she said. "If only he wanted to make love to me, I'd spread my legs for my son."

"Would you fuck your son?" 

"Stop. Please don't," she said. "I can't take this anymore."

"Why should I stop?

"You're going to make me cum," she said.

"Isn't that the idea?"

"Yes, but I don't know you. I'd feel like such a slut, a wicked whore, by allowing a total stranger to give me phone sex and a verbal orgasm," she said.

"I'll tell you what," he said.

"What?"

"Let's cum together then," he said.

"Okay," she said breathlessly.

"You pretend that I'm fingering you while licking you and while reaching up to feel your big breasts while fingering your nipples and I'll pretend that you're sucking my cock while stroking my cock," he said.

"Oh God," she said.

"You pretend that I'm your son and I'll pretend that you're my mother," he said.

"Oh, God," she said. "If my son was here right now, I'd do him. I swear. I'd seduce him. I'd suck his cock before making sweet love to him and before fucking him. I want him to fuck me hard and fast. I'd want him to really pound my pussy," she said. "I love my son and I so want my son."

"Wow," he said.

"Wow what?"

"I wish you were my mother. You make me wish I was your son," he said. "You make me wonder if my mother wants me as much as I want her."

"I'm sure she does. Just as all sons want to fuck their mothers, all mothers want to make love to their sons," she said. "All sons want their mothers to suck their pricks just as all mothers want their sons to lick their pussies before fucking their cunts."

"I'm cumming," he said. "As soon as you said the word cunt, I blew my load. Jesus, I just shot my load while wishing I was cumming in your mouth before cumming in your pussy and inside my mother's cunt."

"I'm going to need a cigarette," she said.

"Why?"

"I just had an orgasm too," she said.

"Do you smoke?"

"Not really. Only after sex. One cigarette relaxes me," she said.

"Actually, I need some water and a tissue. I'm going to put the phone down. Will you still be here when I return?"

"Yes," she said. "Wait. Don't go. I hear someone. There's someone here. I hear a noise in the kitchen. Oh my God. A burglar or an intruder, there's someone in my kitchen. I need to get my robe," she said.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes," she said. "My son stayed over a friend's house. I'm not expecting him home until tomorrow. Hello? Who's there? Robert? Is that you?"

"Mom?"

"Fuck me. I don't believe it. It's my son. It's Robert. Oh, God," she said. "I wonder if he heard me on the phone. Holy fuck! I don't believe it. It's as if I willed this to happen."

"Willed what to happen?"

"Robert, he's in the kitchen," she said.

"So?"

"He's naked," she said.

"Well, Elizabeth this is your chance to have sex with your son," he said.

"No, I can't," she said. "I mustn't. I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because he's my son and I'm his mother and our having sex would be incest," she said.

"Being that he's already standing there naked, I dare you," he said.

"Don't dare me," she said. 

"I double dare you," he said.

"Please don't," she said.

"I dare you to take off your robe and nightgown and walk out to the kitchen naked. Only keep the phone with you. I want to hear his reaction to him seeing his mother naked and to you seeing my cock," he said.

"Your cock? Robert? Is this you on the phone?"

"Yes mother now strip off your robe and nightgown. Now that you're seeing me naked, I want to see what you look like naked," he said.

THE END