Batboy and the Librarian

Batboy and the Librarian

Thought I would give a mother and son incest novella a go. It became quite lengthy so if you're looking for quick sex, you'll need to look elsewhere. If you like to delve into a story with characters, then I hope I've met your needs. Copyright remains with the author. Enjoy.

"You should see the new place now sweetheart," I concluded after I'd been morbidly rabbiting on for the past hour, "after two years I've finally completed all the renovations. The ensuite was the last refit and I made sure the room is huge with an oversize shower, multiple shower heads that hit you from all sides, and a large built-in seat... but it's the tub you would love, big enough for three and power jets to sooth those aching muscles."

I stop studying my feet and, as I gaze upon the cold grey granite headstone, my smile disappears as I'm brought back to reality.

It was this day, exactly five years ago, that my soulmate was taken from me. Enjoying a reunion with others from the sisterhood, they didn't hear the commotion at the entrance to the nightclub, that was, not until several gunshots had rung out.

According to the police, it was gang warfare, and unfortunately, my beautiful twenty-three-year-old wife was hit by a stray slug. It was instant. No pain; just lights out.

I've struggled over these past years. It took a long time to start feeling like myself again after wandering around like a ghost. I'm still struggling to move on, especially considering I've lost the love of my life. In the early years I coped by throwing myself into completing my education and then setting-up and running my architectural business.

After three years I ended up buying an old urban store on the fringe of the city centre that had a dance studio below and a large empty warehouse above. Thankfully, my business is successful, and with the income from the dance studio it allowed me to renovate the vacant space. I completely modernised the upper story, turning half into a new office and drafting area for the business, and the other half into an apartment for myself.

"I have to run along now my love," I say aloud, "as usual, mom's cooked dinner so that I'm not alone tonight," I kiss the headstone and whisper, "I miss you baby, there's still a hole in my heart," I turn and walk away, resisting all temptation to look back.

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

My parents live in the suburbs and as soon as I turned onto their street I could tell that dinner was going to be a family affair. I parked my Mustang in the driveway next to my brother-in-law's Honda people mover, a clear sign that my sister Bindi and two nephews were also in attendance.

As I exited my car I could hear the sounds of laughter and my Dad's loud voice filled the air from inside the house. However, as soon as I opened the front door, it all fell abruptly into an uncomfortable silence.

"Hey! C'mon you guys, anyone would think the grim reaper just walked in," I announced.

Laughter erupted once again as each person took their turn to greet me. The first to approach was my slightly older sister, who enveloped me in an unstable hug and planted a kiss on my cheek. Bindi is two years older at thirty; however, giving birth to her two sons has not been kind to her, although I'd never tell her that. In both cases she went through significant illness and was hospitalised many weeks before each birth, leaving her physically weak. Nevertheless, she has never lost her strong will or personal opinions.

Now, her boys are both of school age at five and seven years old, which has allowed Bindi to return to work as an accountant, albeit on a part-time basis. Despite the challenges she has faced, she has managed to maintain her determination and resilience. Her experience has shaped her into a strong and capable woman, and I am proud to have her as my sister... when she is not harassing me!

Bindi's husband Rob, who is thirty-five years old, followed closely behind her and greeted me with a handshake, expressing his pleasure at seeing me again. Although he has never been one to show much outward affection, or be overly outgoing, I could sense the genuineness in his words. In the ten years they've been married it's clear that he's had a more submissive role within the family dynamic, with Bindi being the primary decision-maker, nevertheless, it's obvious that he still enjoys spending time with the men during gatherings.

Finally, my father, Steve, greeted me with his customary bear hug. Unlike Rob, my dad has always been comfortable expressing his affection towards both myself and Bindi. This time however, it seemed like he held onto the hug longer than usual. At fifty-six years old, he's dedicated his entire career to real estate, which may explain his larger-than-life personality and strong-willed nature. It's always been evident to me that Bindi takes after my dad, while I seem to have inherited my mom's quieter demeanour. I glanced around, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I push my father back, still holding his shoulders, and inquired, "Where's Mom?"

"Where every good woman should be found," he said good-naturedly, "in the kitchen preparing his man a meal!" then roared with laughter.

He knew that such an inappropriate comment would get an immediate response from Bindi, and sure enough, she bit within a millisecond, causing him to laugh louder and longer.

I left them all in the lounge room arguing about the social standards of today and the generational divide. Walking down the hallway towards the kitchen, I stopped at the door and leant against its frame, observing my mom at the stove shifting pots around and placing items in the twin ovens.

"Hey! What's up Doc?" my usual greeting to my mother.

She reacted swiftly to my words, visibly surprised as she turned, then her face lit up with a wide grin. I observed her stroll leisurely towards me, taking note of her appearance as she approached. Clad in her usual tracksuit, with an apron cinched at the waist, slippers adorning her feet, no makeup, and her hair up but in disarray, she embodied the stereotypical image of an overworked and underappreciated housewife. However, I knew that this portrayal was far from the truth.

I have always known my mother to be an incredibly intelligent and capable individual. With a PhD in Information Services and a Masters in Library Science, she has achieved great success in her career. At fifty-two years old, she holds the prestigious position of Chief Librarian, overseeing the City's public, corporate, and digital libraries.

Although her name is Barbara, I affectionately refer to her as "Doc," a playful reference to the character of Doctor Barbara Gordon from the Batman comic series. In the comics, Barbara Gordon, the daughter of Commissioner Gordon, also doubles as Batgirl while posing as Gotham's Head Librarian. Just like the fictional character, my mother is a strong and remarkable woman who excels in her professional life.

Despite her academic and career achievements, I have never seen her dress in a sophisticated manner in everyday life. She seems to prefer the plain and unassuming appearance often associated with the stereotypical librarian. Despite wearing glasses and keeping her hair in a bun, she does not possess the gloomy and grumpy personality commonly associated with that stereotype, but is rather bubbly and caring.

She stopped in front of me, raising her hand to touch my cheek gently. Tears welled up in her green eyes as she softly asked, "Hey... are you ok baby?"

She is the only one in my family that understood my pain, feeling it herself. When I saw the compassion in her face, my tears began. At five feet seven inches, she was five inches shorter than me. I embraced her and rested my chin on her head, weeping. We held each other in our grief until the tears stopped a short time later.

"It doesn't get any easier for me Doc," I said as we parted, "I still miss her so much."

Without acknowledging my feelings Mom said, "C'mon, let's get on with the dinner so we can get the kids fed and out of the way, then we can all talk further. You go get the table set in the dining room and I'll get Bindi to start organising the kids."

An hour later the kids had been feed and each was engrossed in some game or other, while the adults were at the dining table having completed the main meal and consumed a couple of bottles of wine and some beers. We were seated in the classic boy-girl-boy configuration with Mom and Dad at each end of the table, Bindi and Rob on one side, with me, alone, on the other next to Mom.

Being the Alpha's in the group, Bindi and Dad had monopolised the conversation because, as usual, it was all about them, what they did, and their opinions on the world. I know it sounds bitchy and, don't get me wrong, I love them both to bits, but it all gets too much sometimes and I was not in the mood.

Then it all goes to shit.

"Okay," says Bindi, "I'm gonna bring up the elephant in the room."

In unison, everybody turned in her direction, most with a quizzical look on their face.

"So Chris, when are you going to move on with your life again?"

Oh no, we are back on that subject. I slumped back in my chair, looking down, not wanting to hear any more. I could feel Mom reach out to me under the table so nobody else could see. I reached down and took her hand in mine, giving hers a slight squeeze to indicate I was alright.

"It's been five years now since Shona passed away and, as terrible as it was for everyone, don't you think it's time that you started to live again... you know, go out, socialise, meet some friends or make some new friends, instead of locking yourself away?" Bindi continued.

"I'm okay with my life as is Bindi," I said, "I have friends, I meet up with people, and I'm very busy with my business. My lifeISfull," I emphasised, "but you just don't get to see that."

It was all a lie. Despite everything, I knew that Bindi had my best interests at heart and that she was right, but I didn't want to hear it... from her or anyone else, and especially not on this particular night. The truth is, I am comfortable in my misery... and I'm scared... scared of the future and scared of heartbreak, but I couldn't tell her that, or any of them.

Over the next 30 minutes I listened to Dad and Bindi going on about getting a new life, feeling sorry for myself, being a recluse and antisocial... even Rob put in his two cents worth... all the while I sat there and kept filling up my glass as I listened to their uneducated advice.

Mom tried to lighten the mood by asking if everybody wanted desert, then attempted to get Bindi to help her with it. That did little to deter their mission as they all started up again while Mom went to the kitchen by herself.

It got to the stage where I'd had enough. I'd listened to their concerns, I'd been barraged with advice, I'd drunk copious amounts of wine, I was pissed and I'd inherited some Dutch courage.

Slamming my palm on the table I barked, "THAT'S ENOUGH! Shut the fuck up you lot!"

Everyone sat in stunned silence at my outburst. They had never seen me lose it before but they had pushed their good intentions too far.

Dad was the first to speak, "Hey... hang on a min..."

"SILENCE," I barked again as I stood up, "I've had enough of listening to you lot. I've sat here and taken all of your crap... how the fuck do you know how I feel? None of you with your worldly advice has ever asked how I feel... what I'm going through... or tried to understand. You're wrapped up in your own fucking lives and expect me to emulate you. Well, you can just fuck off!!!"

Mom came bursting back into the dining room, "Okay, that's enough Chris! and the rest of you," she said, "there are children upstairs and I don't want them to hear all this arguing."

"It's okay Mom," I said, "I'm gonna go home now, thank you so much for a wonderful dinner."

"Oh no you're not!" she replied, "not in this state. There's no way I'm letting you drive in your condition. You can stay here for the night."

"I'm not staying here Mom... I just want to go home... Shona and my home... I'll get an Uber okay?"

Mom looked around the room. She knew that both Bindi and Steve had been drinking and couldn't drive, and that Rob was probably okay to drive but he was going in the opposite direction and couldn't drive two cars.

"An Uber isn't going to take you in this condition Chris... No, I'll drive you home and, before you argue, I won't take no for an answer."

Mom then turned to Dad and Rob, "Do you think you can get Chris into his car while I grab a couple of things?" then she whispered to Dad, "I think I'll stay over to make sure he's safe. In his condition anything could happen... can you collect me in the morning?"

Dad agreed and then helped Rob get me to my feet. As the night air hit, my memory left me. I don't remember being put into my car, nor the drive home.

"Chris?.. Chris?... Wake up baby."

It was my mom's voice but my mind is a fog. I slowly open my eyes and look around. I'm in my basement carpark.

"C'mon son, let's get you upstairs."

I struggle to get out of the car then we stagger to the elevator with mom trying to keep me upright. I tell mom the keypad code as the doors shut and we make our way up to the top floor. As the doors open directly into the lounge area, we're met by an airy silent darkness. I flick the lights on and stumble toward the toilet area, urgently needing to relieve myself.

"I'm just going to the car to collect my things," Mom said, "I'll be back shortly."

My bladder eventually emptied, I stumble back to the lounge. Mom had returned and was in the kitchen.

"How about some coffee Chris? I know I feel like some," she said as she filled the jug.

I collapse onto the lounge, my head hanging low, mumbling incoherently. I was trying to apologise to her and, even though the words were formed in my head, the sound coming from my mouth was just babble.

"Chris, I can't understand you honey. What are you trying to say?"

Attempting to offer an apology once more proved to be futile, leaving me frustrated and angry with myself. In a fit of rage, I rose from my seat and made my way unsteadily towards the bathroom, shedding my jacket and shirt as I went. Upon reaching the ensuite, I settled down on the toilet seat and proceeded to take off my shoes and socks. However, as I struggled to stand up to remove my jeans and underwear, I lost my balance, slipped, and ended up sprawled on the bathroom floor.

The sound of my mother's concerned voice filled my head as she hurried in to check on me, "Chris, darling, are you okay? What are you attempting to do, sweetheart?" With a gentle touch, she grabbed me under my arms and tried to help me stand up. Despite my embarrassment at the situation, her presence and caring gestures provided a sense of comfort and reassurance in that moment of clumsiness.

Between the two of us I managed to regain my footing, although Mom was still struggling to keep me vertical. "What say we get you into bed now eh honey?" she suggested... but I had different ideas.

With my mother providing essential support, I managed to push open the shower door, grasping onto the sturdy glass panels for balance, and suddenly pulled us both into its expanse. Despite my intoxicated state, my mother's determination and physical strength was no match for my own, leaving her with no choice but to accompany me into the enclosure.

"Okay, I get it now," Mom said, "You want to have a shower first. Just let me..."

Before she could say anything further, I hit the typhoon button and we were both smashed with water jets from three sides; within seconds both of us were soaked to our skin. The last thing I remember was an audible gasp and splutter as the cold water hit my head.

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

The following morning I woke in my own familiar bed, only to be greeted by a pounding headache, which felt like a jackhammer inside my skull, accompanied with a strange tickling sensation on my forehead. I attempted to open my eyes however my vision was blocked by light-colored hair. Blinking rapidly, my other senses gradually returned before I realised my right hand was clutching something soft and pliable... something that felt like... FLESH!! I quickly sat up and turned to my left. To my astonishment, there was another person in my bed, lying next to me. It was a woman who bore a striking resemblance to my mother... my own MOTHER!!

I gasped with the realisation that my mother was lying beside me in bed, but I couldn't comprehend how she had ended up there as I struggled to piece together the events of the previous night. My mind raced with questions, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of confusion and bewilderment. I frantically tried to recall any details that could explain this bizarre situation, but my memory failed me. As I gazed at my mother's peaceful sleeping face, I couldn't help but wonder what had transpired after I had showered. The sight of her lying there, so close to me, left me feeling utterly perplexed and disoriented.

As I hesitantly pulled back the bed covers, the realisation finally got through the brain-fog that I was also stark naked. It was a shocking revelation, to say the least. But the real surprise came when I lifted the covers a bit more and saw my mother's bare back down to her toned and bulbous buttock, a dusting of freckles adorning her shoulders stood out on her translucent white skin. That was the moment of utter disbelief and confusion!Oh fuck!I thought,what the fuck has happened?

My mind was racing with questions as I struggled to comprehend how we ended up in this bizarre situation, both of us completely undressed under the same covers. Glancing down, I once again took in my mother's nakedness, then suddenly, and inexcusably, an inappropriate observation,that's an incredible arse you have there Mom.

Oh my god, did I really just think that?! I was taken aback by my own thoughts and couldn't believe where I had just gone. Dropping the bed covers again, I rested my head in my hands. It was a moment of shock and embarrassment that I couldn't shake off easily.

I felt the bed move beside me as mom rolled over onto her side. Looking down she was looking back at me, clearly unhappy with the situation.

There was no morning greeting, she simply said in a rather icy manner, "How are you feeling this morning Chris?"

I placed my head back in my hands again, and then mumbled, "Ahhhm, I'm not really sure Mom. My head has left my body... my mouth tastes like a sewer... somebody keeps playingTuskin my skull... I have no memory of last night... and I'm embarrassed and unsure why I'm in bed with you... and we're both naked."

"You don't remember?"

"Honestly, I don't remember anything other than getting into the shower. I remember getting out of the car in the basement, but I have no recollection of the drive home... or even leaving your place... nothing."

Mom held the sheet to her chest with one hand and helped herself sit-up against the headboard with the other. I quickly looked as she moved and noticed that the freckles that adorned her shoulders became less frequent as they ran down her chest.

"And another thing," I continued, "where did all that hair come from? I've never seen you with hair so long, it's always been tied up or in a bun... when did all that happen?"

"Hah... typical male, you never notice anything. I've been growing it longer for about two years now. I did it for your father when he made a comment about Shona having lovely long hair, but he's never really noticed it on me, or if he did, he's never commented on it."

I started to brood hearing Shona's name again, "Yeah she did have lovely long hair didn't she?"