Wylas' Tale: a strange encounter

Wylas wiped the sweat from his brow, and resumed turning the well wheel, winding up the rope. For the millionth time he wished he was a bit stronger, a bit bulkier. He certainly worked hard enough to be. Last week, in town, he even got mistaken for his sister. The slim half-elf gritted his teeth and used the anger of dealing with that embarrassment to help him crank faster. Finally the last bucket was up. Four bloody big buckets of water, every evening. One for each family member to wash away the day's labors, and the last one for cooking and drinking with their evening meal.

Faint footsteps sounded close behind him, almost silent even to his keen ears. Wylas' mother or sister; both had a habit of unintentionally sneaking up on him, as they moved with such natural grace. He did the same thing, he knew.

"Would you like a hand with those, sweetie?" His mother's voice asked his back, lovely as ever.

"Sure, mom, thanks," Wylas hefted one full bucket in each hand, and the ropes strained against his thin fingers. He felt a delicate hand brush his bare arm.

"You're so strong..." His mother's voice purred behind him. Was she making fun of him?

"Uhh... thanks?" Wylas turned his body, and his mother's hand remained lightly on his bicep. As he turned his mother's beautiful face came into view. As an elf she had hardly aged a day since he had been born, and in another ten or so years, even with his own slowed maturation, they would approach the same relative age to one another. Someday he would even overtake her, which was a strange thought that only recently had become relevant to Wylas' musings.

Something caught Wylas' eye, and he glanced downward. His mother's dress was ripped at the top, and her full, high left breast was in plain view. He blushed and would have spun around immediately if he wasn't carrying the heavy, sloshing buckets of water in each hand. As-is, he averted his gaze instead, turning away in shock, "M-mother! Your dress!"

"O-oh! I'm so careless, I forgot completely! It got torn in the woods," Elisiyah blushed cutely herself, and to Wylas' mind very slowly, tantalizingly began to cover herself. Wylas couldn't help but steal a last little glance as his mother moved the ripped flap of her dress over her exposed chest, slightly, just covering the nipple. Wylas wanted to tell her that he was still... uncomfortable... with how much skin was showing, how he could still see the side and part of the bottom of her pale breast, but that conversation seemed too awkward. His mother bent low and grabbed a bucket as promised. Her orb almost fell out of her loose hold when she bent over, and Wylas swallowed.

Living with two beautiful women in their lonely house a good ways away from town and neighbors wasn't usually too difficult for Wylas. Sure, he occasionally saw something that maybe he shouldn't have, and he saw other women so rarely that he had a hard time coming up with fantasies on lonely nights. But he wasn't some kind of pervert, and he checked any inappropriate thoughts that might enter his head as soon as they came to him.

Being this close to an exposed chest of a beautiful woman, his mother, was different though. And she had seemed so casual, smiling, touching his arm, covering herself slowly instead of turning away immediately in embarrassment. Wylas was confused, and couldn't get the lingering feeling of his mother's touch on the arm out of his head. He stumbled as he walked towards their house, almost spilling the buckets in his hands. A little, pleasant laugh came from behind him. As if his mother knew he was frustrated, and didn't mind one bit. Wylas' confusion grew.

They dropped off their buckets by the stove, "I need to change dresses, and grab a few herbs from the cellar. You keep on working at your chores, I'll have dinner ready in about an hour. Is that okay, sweetie?" That was another thing, his mother hadn't called him that in years.

Before Wylas could stammer a reply, his mother pressed in close, her half-naked breast brushing up against his chest, and gave Wylas a quick kiss before whirling away, heading upstairs. Her young son was frozen in place and touched his lips, where his mother had kissed him. Right on the mouth.