Taken_(3)

Hayley sitting watching TV at night with son, Hayley…made mistakes in her life. When she was still a teenager, she got pregnant and had a son, his father was an older man who there was no chance of him ever doing ‘the honorable thing’, due to him having a wife and kids. She chosen to raise him by herself, which, needless to say, hadn’t been easy.

Hayley got up. “I’m going to bed, Michael.”

“I’ll join you as soon this is over, Mum.”

“Ha ha,” Hayley said in a sarcastic deadpan, like her son had made that joke before. then she headed toward her room, and, unseen by her, her son watched her leave.

In her room, she took off her shirt, reveal a tight black bra that hugged and pushed her tits up. As she undressed she was unaware behind the cracked open door was her son, watching as she bend over, pull her pants down, revealing the tanned globes of her ass as she was had on a thong. Micheal watched as his mother reaches behind her back, and unhooks her bra with a snap, then takes it off. Then she slipped the thong over her hips and with a wiggle sent them to the floor. Naked she walked in to her private bathroom.

When Michael was fifteen, his school counselor, apparently concerned with his behavior, warned Hayley he seemed to be imprinting on her in a very unhealthy way. Hayley pretty much disregarded that. Hayley was no psychologist, but she was pretty certain that Oedipus stuff was bullshit. Little did Hayley realize how right the counselor would turn out to be, she spoke to three years ago.

In the shower, Hayley soaped up her body, soapy hands gliding over her breasts and ass to her son delight, as he watched her silhouette behind the shower curtain, through the slightly open door of his mother’s bathroom. Suddenly, she turned off the shower, got out, remaining naked, she wiped off the bathroom mirror. Michael began breathing hard, getting worked up at the site of his naked, wet mother. Hayley opened the medicine cabinet, in the the mirror she spots something, and immediately looks toward the door, with a look of surprise.

“Michael?” As soon as she says this, he loudly runs away.

Moments later, “What the fuck were you doing outside that door?” Hayley asked as she now stood in front of her son, in her bathrobe, arms crossed, obviously quite angry, as he sat on his bed, looking down sheepishly.

Feebly, Michael responds, “I was passing when I thought i heard you called me, okay.”

“Please, Michael!