NOTE: THE FOLLOWING STORY IS INCESTUOUS, IF INCEST OFFENDS YOU, THEN PLEASE DON'T READ ANY FURTHER.



I was still a 15 year old virgin when I saw Mrs. Muji for the first time in the sitting room of our house. And even then, sex was furthest from my mind. Sure, I loved ogling girls as much as the next Hot teenager but girls still left me tongue tied and painfully shy.

While my friends boasted about their sexual conquests (although I’m now sure much of their stories were greatly exaggerated and probably outright lies), I would be filled with envy and wonder when my time would come when I would cross over that line to sexual freedom.

My closest experience with a girl had been when I was seven. Our housemaid who was probably sixteen or so had shown me her breasts when my parents were out and told me to touch them. I still cringe with embarrassment when I remember that my response was to ask “Which one?”

That ended my seduction before it began. I later learnt that she had been more successful with my Dad in getting him to touch her boobs. However, that success was short lived when Mom returned unexpectedly and caught my Dad with his hands on the Housemaid’s naked boobs. My Dad’s explanation that he was checking the sixteen year old’s breasts for cancer lumps as advised by the Ministry of Health Breast Cancer Awareness Programme did not impress my Mom and she left, taking me along with her.

My Dad couldn’t care less that his only son was leaving him. Afterall, it gave him the freedom to check more teenage breasts for cancer. I swear I’ll cross paths with Dad again one day.

Anyway, me and my Mom lived together. My Mom was a senior marketing executive in one of the largest beverage companies in Nigeria so money was not an issue. She built a small duplex and it was just me and her and another housemaid. The housemaid was in her 6Os with breasts that looked like a pair of worn slippers who came only on weekends. Clearly, my Mom was not taking chances anymore.

Like I said before, I was painfully shy with girls, introverted and just had a few friends at school who kept on boasting of how they bleeped Ngozi or Ifeoma or Amaka.

I am sure I would have remained a virgin till I left secondary school and entered college if it was not for the timely intervention of Mrs Muji.

I was upstairs prepping for my JAMB exams which was two months away when I heard the doorbell ring. My Mom answered it and I heard the loud exclamations of joy and excitement from my Mother and another woman whose voice was low and modulated.

A few minutes later, I heard my Mom calling my name. Reluctantly, I left my room. I was not really interested in meeting my Mom’s friend who would most likely be a boring old fart with sagging jowls and sagging breasts and hairs sticking under her chin.

“Chidi, meet my friend Vanessa,” my Mother gushed.

I looked at her guest and was dumbstruck.

Let me tell you a few things about my mother. At five eight, Mom is a very attractive woman. Fair skinned with a plump curvaceous body, she had that kind of pretty look that radiated innocence rather than sexiness, even at the age 35. Think of Julia Roberts in Sound of Music and you will get the picture.

But Vanessa Muji was something else. She easily dwarfed my mom which made me guess her height to be about 6 foot. She was much darker than my Mom but her skin shone like as if it had been waxed. Her bosom and ass were ample while her long legs were marginally covered by a mini office dress that I am sure would have been distracting to her colleagues and customers alike. Her eyes, smoky and piercing, gazed at me with a frank penetrating stare that made me uncomfortable. But the discomfort I felt did not make me immune to her incredible beauty. She appeared older than my Mom maybe with a few years which put her around 40. But I bet you, no man from 14 to 400 would gaze at any younger woman if this MILF was beside her. If my Mom was Julia Roberts in Sound of Music, Vanessa Muji was Monica Bellucci in The Matrix Reloaded.

“Chidi, stop staring at her and say hello. Mind your manners” my mother admonished.

“It’s alright Naomi”. Her voice was low, modulated, sexy. “You have a handsome son. How old are you Chidi?”

“Me? I’m 15 Ma. 15-that’s right…15” I stammered stupidly.

A slight smile curved her lips. Obviously she was aware of the effect she was having on me.

“Well Chidi, I and your Mom were very close in secondary school. She was my school daughter. “

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