No Patience for High Standards Pt. 01

She'd never give in. This had gone on far too long to succumb now.

It wasn't just about it being incest at this point. It was a battle of wills, a competition to see who'd give up first. And Rachel was a petty bitch. Everything in life had gone Jason's way... was it so bad to deny him this one thing? Was it so bad to teach him a little humility? She would deny him victory even at the cost of her own joy, even if it meant she wasn't getting the sex she so badly needed. At points, she promised herself that she would prefer not having sex ever again over giving him the satisfaction of giving him what he wanted.

And at times, it felt like that was indeed her fate.

She was too beautiful to never get laid, but, for a woman of such intense sexiness, she got action far less than she deserved. In the immediate aftermath of her son's offer, she didn't once speak of her it to his face, not acknowledging it at all, trying to live her life as if her own son had not made a play to fuck her brains out. She kept working, kept dating, and she'd had some successes. She'd finally gotten a little bit of action... nothing mind-blowing, and certainly no long-lasting relationships, but it was a nice pressure relief, clearing her head. She'd feel pretty good about herself... at least until she got home and inevitably heard Jason power-fucking some slut, making her scream in rapturous pleasure, reaching crescendos that made Rachel's fun seem tame by comparison. So, even when she got some victories, Jason always seemed to get the last laugh.

Rachel got more demanding of her potential partners, aiming high, seeking out someone who could slake her thirst, someone who could provide her that same level of pleasure she heard down the hall of her own home, but that was a bar no one seemed able to eclipse. She tried to branch out a bit, hoping to add a little spice to the mix and stumble on something good, but she still came up empty-handed. It seemed like all the good ones were taken.

The ones her age with a lot of potential eventually proved why they were single. Some were total weirdos, some were just assholes, and some were too self-absorbed to waste her time on. The absolute worst were the ones who seemed normal, only to eventually reveal some truly strange fetish that was a no-go for the hot mom. This was stuff beyond your regular fetish shit... like, this wasn't like a guy obsessed with feet, or a man who wanted to be pegged, although she'd encountered men who wanted each from her. No, she was talking about stuff like this one guy who had a thing for getting kicked in the balls. He seemed so normal and vanilla before that point, someone who she could imagine dating. But once he made this reveal... let's just say he got exactly what he wanted from the infuriated mom, and never saw her again after that.

There were some winners though, but Jason's offer ruined them for her. Through her work, she'd encountered a few men who she really clicked with. Ones whom she shared honest to God sexual chemistry, which seemed to be in short supply these days. But unfortunately... these men were young, closer to Jason's age than her own, and she just couldn't do that. Not only did some of them remind her too much of her son... she just couldn't cross that line with any significantly younger man. It just felt like doing the deed with a young man Jason's age was a tacit acknowledgment that her son's offer was on the right track, and that succumbing to them would give her confident son a win. Some of these men would very clearly fuck the hot blonde if she gave the okay, but she left guaranteed sex on the table in order to deny her son the win. She hated doing this, but she was committed to winning this conflict.

But it didn't feel like she was winning.

It had been over a year since she'd had sex. Prospects dried up, and the men she did date just couldn't meet her high standards.

Meanwhile, Jason was having sex at the same rate he'd been having it. He had a whole bevy of regular booty calls mixed in with new girls he came across in his daily life. The sex seemed as intense and world-changing as always, judging by all those little sluts' moans. So even as Rachel continually denied her son any trace of victory in her mind, he remained unbothered. He was getting all the sex he needed, and she was practically chaste. Her toys were less effective than ever, and she was so wound up her attitude soured more and more. She was tense, on edge, bitchy and high strung. She was a guitar string being wound tighter and tighter... the longer this went on, it felt like she would inevitably snap.

She could probably get through this dry spell if she was on her own. But she couldn't escape Jason and his active sex life.

Even though he had this fancy tech job, Rachel almost never saw him working. She barely saw him sleep. He only slept a couple hours a night, and he'd pick up naps while she was out of the house. When she was home, he was always around, rubbing his active sex-life in her face. When she asked about why he wasn't working, he said that he mostly did his work at night. In fact, he said with a smirk:

"I do my best work at night."

Even the memory of him saying that almost made her hurl at how heavy-handed it was. But it seemed accurate. His girlfriends all seemed satisfied with his efforts, and his bosses all seemed pleased with his professional work. He noodled around with job stuff during the day when inspiration struck him, but he indeed saved most of it into the night, either the nights he spent alone, or after he and whatever girl he was spending the night with were done. Then he would really buckle down at his big rig computer, putting on headphones and getting shit done.

He occasionally had to fly out and do some work stuff in person, and those blessed few days took the weight of the tension between them off her shoulders. She could breathe again. In times like this, she was tempted to assert her motherly authority and just kick him out, but that felt like cheating. She didn't want to win like that. She wanted to prove him wrong, to beat him to the point where he admitted how mistaken he was. Kicking him out seemed like a tacit admission that she couldn't win. And she could fucking win.

But he wasn't being passive. He'd make little comments, stuff that on the surface seemed reasonable and complimentary on the surface, but struck deeper for Rachel. Sometimes, things as simple as, "Looking good, Mom!" But sometimes, he knew how to get under her skin, stuff like a comment he made to her after coming in from a jog, wearing her exercise clothes, "Jesus, Mom... look at that fucking cake! You're making me hungry!" as he checked out her ass in her yoga pants. (After learning about that term, and the phrase 'clapping cheeks,' she proceeded to hear them all the time now, each occurrence making her mind go back to Jason and his fateful offer.) Thankfully, he was rarely so crass as to catcall her in such a manner, often letting the silent tension between them do the work.

That being said, he wouldn't hesitate to leap at an opportunity when it presented itself to him. For example, at Thanksgiving the year before last, he had cooked up a really tasty pumpkin pie for dessert. There was seemingly no angle to it, so Rachel opted to partake. But, of course, fate was unkind. As she went to spray on some whipped cream out of the little can, the nozzle of it fucked up, causing the cream to spray all over her front in a fashion that proved to be rather lewd. The spray went from her chest to her hairline, gobs of cream landing everywhere. Jason watched this whole thing laughing, although some heat filled his gaze as he looked at the mess that had been left on her. Her gorgeous face was spackled with spots of the cool cream, with the biggest gob of the smooth white substance landing right on her eye, forcing it shut. Instead of helping her, he admired the sight.

"Jeez... Mom... you're gonna give me ideas looking like that," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, even though she could only see out of one.

"Shut up..." she said, annoyed and slightly embarrassed. But as she scooped the cream off her eye with her finger, allowing her to see out of both again, that feeling tilted toward annoyed as she looked down at herself, the area of her pink shirt covering her boobs was like a Pollack painting with the spots of whipped cream. "Dammit..." she said to herself, grabbing a hand towel to clean herself up.

"I don't know if you've noticed like I have, Mom..." he began, glancing down at her chest. "But you have some pretty big targets."

"Oh, shut up!" she said, flicking the towel at him which he deftly dodged, madder that fate had presented him such an easy opportunity to make such a comment than she was actually mad at him. On the scale of shit that he'd done that annoyed her, this was on the lower end, just because the moment had been gift-wrapped to him.

But on an occasion like when he repaired the small fountain they had near the backyard pool, she got more upset. They had a small decorative fountain a while ago when she was still with Jim, and while it seemed a bit much in terms of yard adornments, both Rachel and Jason had a soft spot for it. So, when it stopped working, Jason made it a point to try and repair it himself. Rachel was skeptical of his level of confidence at being able to repair it, but sure enough, a gush of water bursting out from the center of the fountain proved her wrong. When he stood up proudly, cleaned off his hands, and admired his work while standing next to his mom, he turned to her and spoke.

"I can do that to you, too," he said with a smirk. That earned him a punch in the shoulder, and made Rachel consider whether he'd orchestrated this whole situation just to make that comment to her. He laughed as she walked away, the mom suppressing an annoyed grin.

That was the thing. While the offer had forever changed the nature of their relationship, they could still joke with each other. They could get through the day around each other even with the elephant in the room, with the prospect of sex between them hanging in the air. They still got along fine as long as Jason kept himself in check. But unfortunately for Rachel, Jason's many successes left him feeling like anything he did was golden, so he didn't check himself nearly as much as he should. The tension between them was always there, leaving Rachel little opportunity to breathe easy.

Jason felt like he had a charmed existence... he had good reason to feel that way. Some people seemingly had all the luck, and he was one of those people. A young man with disposable cash, he took up plenty of new hobbies, proving to be quite deft at all of them. The cooking stuff was just a start. At one point, he got really into photography, buying himself a really expensive, fancy camera and lenses. And even Rachel could admit he was quite good at it. Unfortunately, he soon moved beyond pictures of nature and sunsets, and found himself drawn to taking artful nudes of many of his booty calls. The girls were happy to do so, feeling sexy at doing such a thing, and they trusted him enough to keep this all between them. In fact, he was happy to share these artful pictures with the girls in question, these little sluts happy to have these artful nude photos of themselves as an art-piece. And he took pride in some of his best photos, mounting them in both his room and his office on the first floor. But he left a big area of the wall in his room blank, telling Rachel he was saving a picture of her for that spot. Rachel shook her head at this.

That was NEVER going to happen. To think... a son being so confident that he'd convince his mother to pose nude for him... it was almost an admirable level of delusion.

His fascination with photography led to him gaining an appreciation for fashion. And while he used this new interest to improve his own personal fashion sense, he didn't take it overboard, not suddenly becoming some scarf-waring douchebag. But he did gain an eye for what worked clothing-wise to the point where he volunteered suggestions to Rachel. His feedback was as unwanted as it was correct. Rachel hated to admit it, but his suggestions were typically on point. But she never gave him the satisfaction of wearing what he suggested... at least in front of him. Some of his ideas were so on the ball that they couldn't be denied, to where she would sometimes change outfits at work in order to not let him get any credit for influencing her choices. That being said, she wasn't about to request his opinion on her outfit choices, let alone parade herself in front of him for just such a reason. With the nature of their relationship as it was, doing so would practically be daring incest to happen, and Rachel preferred not to acknowledge nor engage that whole thing in the slightest.

So then, if that was the case, why did it feel like it was more on her mind than ever?

To be clear, she was not thinking about giving in to him and actually doing the deed with him. She hadn't swayed on that point in the slightest. No, it was just... without explicitly saying much in order to do so, Jason had an uncanny ability to turn up the pressure on her... to the point where it felt like as time went on the walls were closing in on her, making his offer more and more inescapable. She used to be able to live her life around it the majority of the time, now she couldn't get away from it.

First and foremost, Jason was still having a lot of sex, and he varied up his booty-call schedule so that Rachel either walked in on or was forced to overhear far more than she used to before. He was less concerned with hiding the evidence from her, or even trying to pretend he wasn't having loud sex with her in the house. The girls would squeal and moan as loud as ever, making Rachel wonder if he was putting them up to it. It was either that or he was really THAT good at fucking, and she wasn't about to let herself give him that much credit.

One time, one of his booty-calls showed up about an hour after Rachel got home from work. This was unusual, as typically, they were already in the midst of going at it when she arrived to the house. Rachel could tell this wasn't in his plan, and although he was annoyed by this, he didn't let it stop him, improvising a bit. Pulling that redheaded slut into his office, Rachel quickly heard the sounds of firm, crisps spanks echoing outward, followed by lusty moans of delight. These little sluts... how could they just go along with these whims of his? How could they let him get away with whatever he wanted? She put up with it as long as she could, but it was upon hearing that dumb little bitch moan the word "Daddy" to Jason that she'd had enough. Rachel put in earbuds to try to drown it out, but she still heard every single spank. Boiling the whole time, she couldn't contain herself when he eventually reappeared an hour or so later, his girl finally out of the house.

"How... how do these airhead dimwits let you do that shit to them?" she couldn't help but ask as soon as he showed his face. She rarely asked questions of what he got up to with his many girlfriends, but in this case, she was so annoyed she had to inquire about it. "What kind of girl just walks into a room with you and lets you spank them? God, the fact that these girls have so little pride in themselves makes me think less of your for availing yourself in them?"

Surprised, but not offended by this line of inquiry, he didn't blanche as she tore him down. In fact, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't explain it either," Jason replied simply, grabbing a glass of OJ. "I guess some women are into it... just letting go of everything, surrendering to someone else completely." He paused to take a sip from his glass. Turning his head, he looked her dead in the eyes as he continued. "Some women just like to submit..."

Rachel hated that a shiver went through her at this, both because of what was said and who was saying it. But it was one of those times where she was so starved for anything sex that when something in her general proximity was tinged with lust, said with a confidence that might work with her if it was anyone other than her son saying it, caused her body to react despite knowing better. He left her to stew in this moment with a knowing smirk, his mom trying to tamp down the images in her mind his statement conjured.

Rachel got less patient with this stuff as time went on, fighting back whenever she could, loudly knocking on the door of the office as he plowed a girl in there, the mom doing her best to ruin his good time. He rarely let the interruption stop the fun, but some of the girls seemed a little embarrassed when forced to face down a clearly annoyed Rachel. The mom wouldn't shy away from them, staring them down, not letting them escape the embarrassment, hoping to dissuade them from ever coming back. It rarely worked, as they'd usually end up returning to Jason eventually, but anything she could do to upset his fun was a plus. He tried to play it off like he wasn't bothered, but she could tell he was a little irritated. He normally kept his cool, but it was only in times where he was a little frustrated with her that he lashed out in his own way, speaking a little more crassly to her, boasting: "It won't be the last time I bust a nut with you screaming my name, Mom." Or: "I always cum a little harder when I know you're listening..."

That's as close as she got to a win, and Rachel took her victories where they came. However, these specific victories still ended when her son came, and Rachel remaining sexually frustrated. As with most things these days, even her small wins still felt like losses, with her son perennially victorious. He's the one that got to relieve his tension, and she was left a bundle of nerves.

Knowing she couldn't truly get one over on him, he pressed the advantage. He was around the house more than his mother was, and having already added a gym to the garage, transformed his father's office to his own, and contributed some of his own income to maintain their comfortable lifestyle... he began acting like he owned the place.

He began to infringe more and more into her personal space, slowly making himself comfortable everywhere. Specifically, he developed a habit of walking into her bathroom as she was showering. Not literally into the shower, but he would plainly walk all the way to her bathroom from either his bedroom or his own bathroom as she was naked in the shower.

Admittedly, she had an excellent bathroom. Spacious, with a small jacuzzi, a large enclosed walk-in shower, and a large sink with a big mirror, the whole room was personalized with her girly stuff all over the place. Stepping behind the frosted glass door of the shower, letting the warm water cascade down her naked flesh, this was one of the few refuges she got from her son. Until the day he simply opened the bathroom door halfway through her shower, immediately cranking up the dread. Confirming her fears, she peeked her head out of the shower door, blinking the water out of her eyes, her gaze landing on her son facing the mirror across from her, his back to him, wearing a towel around his waist. His fit, bare back was left exposed, his musculature taut and impressive. But she wasn't about to give him any credit, especially given the circumstances.

"What are you doing?" Rachel screamed out at him incredulously, ensuring that she was positioned in such a way that he couldn't see too much of her through the steamy glass. But this piece of shit... he wasn't even looking at her, checking her out. No, he was standing at the mirror, running his fingers through his hair, checking out his own reflection.

"Sorry, Mom..." he replied, unaffected by her anger, smiling at her through his reflection. "My hair always looks better in your mirror." He tried to get every hair in place, not budging from his spot in front of her mirror.