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My fingers were still touching my clitoris, but my movements had stopped as I processed what was happening. I said nothing.I was still wearing my t-shirt, but nothing else.Gary’s naked form slid under the covers next to me. Not sure what to do, or how to react, I slowly turned on my side, placing my back towards my son. Gary moved in to spoon me, draping his arm around me. He pulled me close; I could feel his penis begin to throb to life against my bare backside. I felt paralyzed, unable to move. Gary moved his hand down my shoulders and arm, massaging and rubbing my arm and shoulder, slowly encroaching on the side of my breasts.I felt dizzy, confused, unsure of what to do; actually not even sure what I could do. “Gary, you must not do this. Please, this is not right.” My voice cracked as I spoke. But I did not try to remove his hand. And I did not lower my arm to block his access to my breast. I just laid there motionless, allowing my son to stroke the side of my breast.“Mom, it is. Standing on the edge, I brush my pants with my palms and examine the interior. The hallway I find myself in runs the length of the house, connecting every room on the second story with each other. Lavicously decorated with thick carpets, tapestries, statues and various other old artifacts of bygone eras, it was gaudy but tasteful. Wood panels, stone floors, stunning wallpaper with repeated patterns of trees on the inward facing walls, seamlessly replicating a forest inside the manor. The outer walls were made of stone, collinades rising to the ceiling and framing the scene outside in beautiful pinks, browns, and tans swirling and folding in on each other, layer after layer rising upwards in a spiral of soft-hued granite.Turning, I pinch the ladder and it ascends up and between my fingers, becoming once again the charm that I had secured to my wrist, the glint of blueish light the only indication of the potential hidden within it's form.Jumping down and onto the plush carpeting, I.
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