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From: Scorpio00155 <scorpio00155@my-deja.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Story - Crazy Bet 1/2 (M/F, inc, son-mom)
Date: Sat,  9 Dec 2000 00:10:07 -0500
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Crazy Bet - Part 1 of 2
By Scorpio00155

"You are fucking crazy!" I said in disbelief as I stared at my best
friend Wendy through wide eyes.

"Well you've always known I was nuts Linda," she grinned back at
me "but are you on or not?"

"Jesus!" I blurted "Let me get this straight, you are betting that you
can seduce my son before I can?"

"You got it hon." She laughed "And the stake is three thousand pounds."

"Now I know you are crazy," I said in dismay "or I am for listening to
you. Don't you think it would be kind of sick of me to seduce my son to
win a bet? I have no idea how he'd react if he ever found out."

Mentally I was kicking myself, here I was protesting and making points
as though there was anything to discuss about the matter. It wouldn't,
couldn't happen, not between my son Philip and myself, it was perverse
of both of us to even be discussing it. Not that I couldn't afford the
money, but with the prize my own son ... no, no way at all.

"Aw Lin, you've lost the old verve you used to have." Wendy pouted "I
mean, I'm bound to win anyway so I don't know what you are getting all
het up about."

"I am not getting het up," I retorted "it's just ... well ... this is
my son you are talking about, mothers and sons don't do such things."

"You'd be surprised Lin my old darling," Wendy laughed "there's more
sons knocking off their mothers than you would believe."

"But it's illegal!" I gasped "They must be sick in the head to even
consider doing such things!"

"Sure it's illegal," Wendy said in a serious tone "but don't you go
getting on that high horse with me, remember, I know where the
figurative bodies are buried."

"Oh come on Wendy," I protested "a bit of grass and a few uppers aren't
in the same class."

"Still illegal and admit it," she grinned "half the fun of doing the
drugs was the fact they were illegal."

"I guess it was," I sighed "but drugs and incest are two different
things entirely."

"Why?" was all she said.

"Well ... incest involves sex and ..." I started out feeling a bit
flummoxed.

"Hell, doing drugs involved sex too and as I recall we weren't too
fussy about who, where or how many." Wendy jumped in "Is that it, all
your argument?"

"Come on," I defended myself "I hardly expected to be having this
conversation, I'm afraid I didn't research the subjects before hand.
Anyway, he's under age so neither of us could seduce him anyway."

"Listen to Miss 'I Lost My Cherry at 14' protesting about under aged
sex." Wendy said loudly with a frown "Just when the hell did you change
to become such a hypocrite? Or is it just your son that's not allowed
to dip his under aged wick."

"Wendy, keep your voice down." I hissed across the restaurant table at
her "Look, I don't know why it's wrong, but damn it I don't feel
comfortable even talking about it."

Sighing I leant back in my chair, I'd had similar conversations with
Wendy in the past and this one was going the same way they all had.
Gradually Wendy was shredding each and every argument I could put up,
backing me into a corner until she got her way. I was determined to
hold out this time though, much as I loved my son I had never looked at
him in a sexual way, but now I found myself thinking of how tall he was
and muscular.

'Jesus get a grip!' I exhorted myself mentally 'He's your son, not some
hunky kid.'

Across the table Wendy was watching me with that grin of hers that
drove me up the wall, it was a grin that said 'I see you thinking about
it, won't be long before you agree'. I'd seen that grin so many times
before and I had always gone with Wendy's crazy schemes in the end.
Then I had a thought and one that could change the whole context of the
situation.

"Just what do you mean by seduce?" I asked my friend.

"What else is there to mean," she laughed "you or I entice him into bed
and fuck him. You used to be so good at seducing guys Linda, guess old
age is creeping in, you've forgotten how I suppose."

"I'll give you 'old age'!" I retorted in annoyance "Three thousand
pounds says I succeed before you do. What's the time limit, or is there
one?"

"Well I guess if neither of us have got him into out bed within a
month" Wendy mused "we never will. So how about a limit of one month
from today?"

"Agreed!" I said firmly.

'What the hell are you doing woman?' my thoughts shouted at me "This is
your own son you are talking about seducing!'

Yet again I had fallen for Wendy's ploys, most of the time I loved her
as a friend, but there were times, like now, that she drove me crazy.
Now the bet was made Wendy knew I would not back out and I knew that
she would go all out to seduce my son, much as I loved my friend she
had a well deserved reputation as a heartbreaker. I was as much
protecting my son from disappointment by trying to seduce him first, or
at least keeping him distracted enough so Wendy couldn't succeed in her
seduction, at least that's how I was justifying it to myself. While my
friend, having got her way, again, switched subjects to a recent piece
of scandal that had come her way I listened with only half my
attention, the other half was occupied with figuring out just how I was
supposed to get my son interested in me.

"Hey, Earth to Linda!" Wendy was laughing "Did you hear one word I've
been saying?"

"Uh, yeah," I blushed having been caught lost in thought "you were
going on about Marg and her new toy-boy."

"So you were listening," she grinned "and I thought you were
concentrating on 'other' things. Anyway, I heard this from Betty, who
got it from a friend, seems the toy-boy is spreading his favours around
a certain other member of the household ..."

Once Wendy got into one of her 'scandals' I had always found the best
thing to do was to tune out, as long as I nodded, laughed or
looked 'shocked' at the appropriate points she never noticed that I
wasn't actually listening. Looking across the table at Wendy I gave a
silent sigh, she and I were the same age, but whereas I looked my forty-
five years Wendy seemed to be younger, much younger. It could have been
her make-up, her clothes, her hair style or a combination of all these
things, but I had this feeling that strip her naked, wash off the make-
up and mess up the hair she would still look younger than me. In this
respect she certainly had a head start on me.

"...then the white rabbit said 'time for tea', they all sat ..."

"What?" I blurted out in total confusion.

"Well I thought if you didn't want to hear the gossip" Wendy
chuckled "I'd recite from Alice In Wonderland, at least it got your
attention."

"Look Wendy," I sighed "you're right, my mind's not all here tonight. I
think I'll go home and get an early night."

"An early start on our bet more like." She laughed.

"Wendy!" I starred at her.

"Oh come on Lin," she grinned "I can almost see the cogs turning, but I
have the unfair advantage of these little 'ladies'" she pushed up her
large tits to show which 'ladies' she was talking about "and I'm
prettier, plus the biggest advantage of all, I don't have that mother
son guilt shit to worry about."

'Shit!' I cursed mentally "What a cow, but she's right on all points!'

"Well I'll just have to try harder is all." I said trying to sound
cool, calm and collected, I don't think she bought it though.

After a few more pleasantries and little digs we parted, me to go home
to my son, her to go home to get herself set to seduce my son. Normally
I'd have got a cab from the restaurant, but I needed to think and so I
walked home, my mind seething and reeling with ideas that I rejected
one after the other.

"Shit!" I said loudly ignoring the sudden shocked looks of an old
couple passing nearby.

I reached home with absolutely no clue as to how I could seduce my own
son and the absolute certainty that Wendy was going to win the bet,
leaving me to pick up the emotional pieces of my son she'd leave in her
wake. Cursing myself for a fool for letting myself get suckered into
one of Wendy's crazy schemes yet again I went inside.

The house was in darkness, since it was well after ten at night this
meant that my son was either asleep in his room or had snuck out to a
friends house, if the latter I was going to read him the riot act when
he got back. Slipping upstairs I checked on his room and was relieved
to find the riot act wouldn't be needed, he was asleep on top of the
covers of the bed and I took the opportunity to look at him not as a
mother would, but as woman would.

Philip was 15 and looked his young age as he lay sleeping, mind you he
was a big lad for his age, already topping six foot and heavily
muscled. I have to admit that if I hadn't been his mother there would
have been no hesitation, I'd have taken him to my bed in an instant,
but I was his mother and I was having trouble with the thought of
trying to get my son in my bed. Sighing I went over to the bed, pulled
a sheet over his sleeping form, and yes I admit it, I did look at his
groin and wonder what lay hidden inside his pyjamas.

Kissing him on the forehead I turned and left the room, heading back
downstairs I went into the living room and poured myself a large gin to
steady my trembling hands. Glancing across the room I saw my reflection
in the display mirror beside the mantle.

"Another fine mess you've got yourself into Linda Watts." I said to my
reflection "I mean look at you, compared to Wendy you are an old hag.
What the hell am I talking to you for, you're only a reflection!"

I suppose I was being harsh on myself, for forty-five I was still
fairly attractive, my figure was still 36-28-36 and firm, well firmish,
okay I was a little softer than in my youth, there were only a few
streaks of grey starting to show in my hair and a few wrinkles on my
face, neck and wrists. I had never been what could be called a 'great
beauty', but men had always found me attractive. Sighing I finished my
drink and went to bed.



When I woke it was with a pounding head, all I felt like doing was
hiding under the covers and sleeping off my hangover, instead I forced
myself out of bed. After some aspirin and a shower I felt semi-human
again, wrapped in an old housecoat I went downstairs to find my son
making breakfast for both of us.

"Morning mum," he greeted me with a grin "here, I think you need this."

He held out a cup of strong, black coffee which I took gratefully.
Sinking into a chair at the kitchen table I groaned and swore off
drinking ... again.

"Who the hell can that be?" I groaned as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Philip chuckled.

A few minutes later Wendy walked in the kitchen door with my son a step
behind her, he looked flushed and excited and it was no wonder. Wendy
was dressed in sheer black blouse, short mini-skirt and 3 inch heels,
under the blouse she had on a flimsy lace bra, her tits and nipples
were clearly visible. Dressed in a scruffy housecoat, fluffy slippers,
my hair limp and damp and with no make-up on I felt like a right frump.

'Oh the bitch!' I thought to myself 'She knows I have nothing like that
in my wardrobe!'

"Uh morning Wendy," I greeted her with a half smile "what brings you
round so early?"

As if I didn't know!

"Just passing." She replied with a wink "Thought I'd pop in to see how
you are this morning and of course to see how Philip is getting on. I
haven't seen you for ages young man."

The cow took hold of one of my son's arms and was hugging it to her
boob, I don't know what he was thinking, but his eyes seemed glued to
her nipples. She was certainly going all out to win the bet and I just
didn't have the body or the clothes to beat her at this game. Then an
idea came to me that might move the advantage to me, I might not be
able to do much about my body, but I could certainly do something about
the clothes and by getting Philip to help me choose the clothes I'd
hopefully get his attention off Wendy.

"Ages?" Philip mumbled staring at Wendy's large boobs "I saw you
yesterday when you came to get mum."

"Well it seems ages." Wendy laughed "You know, I just had a marvellous
idea, why don't I pick you up tomorrow and we'll have a day out
together."

'DAMN IT!' I screamed silently 'Bang goes my idea.'

"Uh ... I don't think I can." Philip answered slowly "Not tomorrow.
Sorry."

'YES!' I crowed silently.

"Oh, that's a pity," Wendy pouted "I has some rather 'nice' ideas of
things to do."

"Maybe another day?" he responded "Maybe one day next week, the school
hols start then."

"As long as it's soon sweetie." Wendy grinned and blew him a kiss "And
now I must love you and leave you. You stay there and recover Linda
dear, Philip can show me out."

My son went out with Wendy while I sat cursing Wendy silently, best
friend or not, she was really pushing it by coming round at seven in
the morning all dressed to thrill. As the minutes passed I started
tapping my fingers on the table top, the pace increasing as five
minutes became six, then seven. Ten minutes had passed before my son
returned from seeing Wendy out and one glance was enough to tell me
that Wendy had said a special farewell to him. He seemed to be a bit
dazed, his hair was mussed and I could see traces of lipstick on his
lips and cheek.

"Better get a move on," I said forcing my voice not to quiver "you did
say you wanted to get to school early today."

"Hmmm?" he responded distractedly "Oh, yeah, I'd better get moving."

"SHIT!" I swore once my son had left the room.

Whatever I might have thought about the idea of incest to start with I
was now determined to make Wendy at least work for her victory. I was
under no illusion that I could win the bet, but if I could keep Philip
distracted and out of Wendy's clutches for a month the bet would be
void. If I could even get his attention that is. He had certainly been
fascinated by her boob show and I had no doubt that she had put all she
had into her parting kiss, she'd probably hinted at more of the same
when they went out.

"Damn it." I muttered not hearing Philip come back into the kitchen.

"What's up mum?" his voice sounded right behind me making me jump.

"Jees ... Philip are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I
sighed "You off?"

"I've got a few minutes before I need to get going," he grinned "but
you didn't answer my question, what's up mum?"

I could hardly tell him I was cursing because of the head start my best
friend had in wining a bet to get him into bed, so I sort of fibbed.

"I was just thinking how frumpy I looked beside Wendy." I sighed laying
what I hoped would be a foundation to get him to help me
choose 'sexier' clothing.

"Oh mum," he laughed "you'd look just as good if you made an effort.
Anyway, I still love you."

"And I love you Philip." I grinned then put on a thoughtful look "Do
you really think I'd look as good in those type of clothes?"

"Yeah, sure I do." He replied while delving into the fridge for some
juice.

"Well then," I said holding back a grin "how about helping me buy some
then."

 From inside the fridge there came a banging sound, a moment later he
turned to look at me rubbing the back of his head.

"Uh yeah, okay, if you like." He said uncertainly "Anyway, got to dash
mum, see you later."

With a quick peck on my cheek he was out the door leaving me to curse
myself for playing games with my son. After another coffee I went about
the daily round of household chores, as I cleaned and dusted my mind
wandered over the consequences of the bet I'd made, or, more
accurately, been backed into.

That evening I think I must have been a bit distracted because my son
asked me if I was 'okay' more than a few times. Though I reassured him
I was fine I doubt he believed it as he seemed to be near me all
evening, almost as though keeping an eye on me.
************
Saturday morning found me wide awake at five in the morning, I tried to
get back to sleep, but just couldn't. I suppose I was nervous abut what
I had planned for the day. In the end I got out of bed and almost
tiptoed to the bathroom so that I wouldn't disturb my son, going
through the morning ritual of toilet and shower seemed to ease my
nerves a little. This morning I dried and brushed my hair carefully,
from my wardrobe I chose a light dress in the knowledge that sunshine
made it sort of see through, well it let you see an outline through the
material. Not having any lacy bras I chose the lightest one I could
find then added the smallest pair of panties I had and a pair of self
grip stockings to the ensemble. Last of all I applied make-up to my
face, nothing garish, but enough to show I'd made an effort.

When I looked at myself in the full length mirror I was quite pleased
with what I saw, okay, it wasn't a raving beauty in the mirror, but the
woman there could certainly turn a head or two.

"God you are getting vain in your old age Linda." I snorted at my
reflection.

A sound in the corridor told me that my son was up and about, glancing
at the clock I saw that it was still only six thirty and I wondered
what had him out of bed so early. Smiling once more at my reflection I
left the bedroom and headed down to the kitchen, I felt too excited or
nervous for food, but I certainly needed some coffee.

"Morning mum." Philip greeted me as he breezed into the kitchen and
made a bee-line for the fridge.

Then he paused and looked at me as though doing a double take.

"Morning dear." I smiled at his surprised expression "Something the
matter dear?"

"Uh, no." he seemed to shake himself "No, I was just thinking how
pretty you are looking today."

"Why thank you." I smiled while giving myself a mental high five.

He resumed his course to the fridge while I sipped at my coffee feeling
less nervous and more excited. Philip grabbed some juice and sat on the
edge of the table to sip it straight from the carton, normally I'd pull
him up on this, but this morning I let it slide.

"So what's the plan?" my son asked suddenly.

"Pardon?" I replied with a guilty conscience.

"Where are we going," he said "you know, for the clothes shopping?"

"Oh, yes, that." I almost sighed "I thought we'd go into the centre."

"Okay." He nodded "I guess there's a few places there to look at."

Knowing how hard it was to get a parking space at the centre I shooed
my son out the door at eight, unfortunately this meant a forty minute
wait for the shops to actually open, but at least we got a space to
park in. To kill time we did a little window shopping, which was sort
of fortuitous.

"That's new." My son commented pointing out a shop off the main
concourse.

We went to have a look in the window, only the window was opaque,
across the centre of it was the shop name 'Mirabelle's' which told us
nothing abut the place. Philip noticed there were some opening hours
pinned in the doorway, I was surprised to see that the shop wouldn't
open until ten and said so, he just shrugged. We were curious about
this shop and I made a mental note to come back to it later just to
find out what they sold. So we wandered back into the centre proper and
killed the remaining time until the shops opened by sipping at some
rather vile coffee in a MacDonalds.

"Let battle commence." My son grinned as we left the MacDonalds.

I had to laugh at his alluding to shopping as a battle, but I suppose
in a way he was right, especially if there were sales on. We started
out in a 'Next' store and I was actually enjoying looking at the
blouses and skirts, from time to time my son would suggest something,
but they were usually opaque creations that were nice but not 'NICE'.

"Mum," he finally said sounding a little exasperated "give me a clue,
just what is it you are looking for, that way I might just pick out
something right for a change."

"Sorry love," I sighed "I wanted something like Wendy was wearing
yesterday."

"You mean ..." he said with his voice rising a pitch "you really meant
what you said about showing off all you've got?"

"Well," I blushed slightly in embarrassment "yes. I just thought I'd
try a change of look for a while."

"Fine by me mum," he grinned "but in that case we are looking at the
wrong racks."

He led me across to a set of racks further into the shop, as we passed
a couple of very young assistants I wondered why they weren't helping
the customers instead of standing around chatting and giggling. Anyway,
the racks Philip had led me to did indeed contain the sheer blouses
similar to the one Wendy had been wearing, some even more sheer and as
I stared at these I had doubts about them suiting me. Worse I had
doubts that I could wear such things.

"Hmmm," I frowned feeling my nerve going "do you think these are really
me Philip?"

"Sure," he said holding up a white blouse so sheer that it almost
wasn't there "why not? How about his one mum?"

"Oh my," I breathed "there's nothing of it! I doubt it ..."

"Well I think you'd look good in it." He sighed as he turned to return
it to the rack.

"Not so fast," I said "let me see that thing."

He handed over the blouse and I felt the material, whatever it was the
feel of it was nice and I had said I wanted sheer. My son was browsing
through the racks again, I was just about to tell him I'd take the
blouse when Philip turned with two others just as sheer in his hands,
one in black the other in red. I took these from him and studied them,
it suddenly struck me that he had picked out blouses in my size and I
did wonder how he knew my size.

"These will do for now." I laughed as he started looking for more.

"Okay," he grinned "so what next."

"Skirts I think." I said.

"Over there." He pointed at some racks near to where the sales
assistants were standing tittering amongst themselves.

We headed that way and I have to admit that my son had more idea about
what to choose than I did, though they did seem a little risqu  the
three skirts I finally chose would indeed go well with the blouses.
Just then I heard one of the young assistants make a comment that
sounded a lot like 'when will these old farts learn that they look like
mutton dressed up as lamb in our stuff.', I felt both upset and annoyed
by the girl's comment. Not that I got the chance to say anything
because the next voice I heard was my son's.

"Kindly get the manager." He was saying firmly.

"What, get lost kid." The sales girl that had made the comment replied.

"Either you get the manager right now or I start shouting for him or
her." My son persisted.

"Oh very well!" the girl huffed then went into the back of the store.

"Philip," I asked in a low voice "what the hell are you doing?"

"What I think should have been done a long time ago." Was his cryptic
reply.

The assistant reappeared with a slightly older woman, by older I mean
mid-twenties rather than in her teens.

"I believe you were quite insistent about seeing me?" the woman said
looking at me.

"No," Philip spoke firmly "I was."

"I see." The manageress said taking on a superior air "And how may I
help you."

"By telling me how you can employ individuals such as this one," my son
said bluntly and pointing at the assistant "bad enough that out of
three assistants not one could be bothered to offer their paid
assistance to a customer. But when those self same assistants start
tittering and making comments about the customer I think it time to
talk to the management, wouldn't you."

"Well," the manageress seemed a little flustered now "yes, I guess I
would, but surely they didn't converse loud ..."

"Loud enough for me to hear most of their gibes," my son interrupted
her "and the last laughing comment was loud enough to both be heard
around the shop and to cause upset to my mother. And for your
information" Philip said loudly turning to face the assistant that had
made the comment "my mother is not an 'an old fart' and she would have
looked a damn sight better in the clothes she'd selected than you could
ever hope to, so if that's 'mutton dressed up as lamb' then I will take
mutton over you any day!"

"Oh," the manageress said as it dawned on her that the customer
actually had a valid point "I can only apologise sir, madam and assure
you that ..."

"You can assure all you like," Philip interrupted her again "I just
wanted you to know why you have lost a couple of hundred pounds worth
of sale. Dump that lot on the counter mum, you aren't shopping here and
I'll be spreading the word about this place, never fear."

I couldn't believe how forceful my son was being, but he was right, the
assistants had seemed disinterested in helping their customers and I
had been really hurt by the girl's comments. So I dumped the stuff on
the counter and turned to follow my son out then turned back to look at
the assistant that had caused my son's explosion.

"Young lady," I said as disdainfully as I could "I would have thought
someone with raging acne would have been the last person in a position
to cast judgement on others."

It was mean of me I know, but there was also a great deal of
satisfaction in seeing her showing the same hurt her words had caused
me. Philip was laughing as I joined him.

"Way to go mum," he laughed loudly "that told her."

"But I was rather mean, don't you think?" I sighed.

"Mean!" he said raising his eyebrows "I'd call that restrained, me I'd
have commented on her buck teeth, squint and greasy hair. Anyway, where
next?"

Continued in Part 2

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