Copyright © 1998,
Shakespeare_I._ Aint. ALL Rights
Reserved
His Father's Son, by Shakespeare_I._ Aint ( m/F d/s,
incest,humiliation)
His Father's Son, Part 1, by
Jack was approaching his seventeenth birthday the night
his Mother, Susan Hornher, brought home
her first date. Jack remembered, because
it was the first time he had sex with a woman.
His Mother had divorced his father on the advice of a
friend and divorced at a significant monetary disadvantage. The chief reason for the divorce lay in the
fact that Jack's Father had simply tired of
his 38 year old wife, Susan
Hornher and had gone on to greener pastures.
Susan hadn't been able to prove
they had owned anything beyond their home, cars and joint accounts.
Although Sterling Hornher hadn't been averse to slipping Jack some jack on his
infrequent visits, he steadfastly remained faithful to the divorce decree and
he did not provide anything beyond the child support owed to his ex-wife. As an unexpected bonus, a corporate promotion and transfer to
That decree left Susan Hornher and her son, Jack, in less
than desirable financial circumstances.
Susan had sold the upper-middle class home she had taken pride in. She could not afford to buy
Their move, in the beginning of summer after Jack's
junior year in High School, left Jack bereft of the friendships he had
maintained and forecast a summer of loneliness for him. Additionally, the "new" house they
moved into was far less than the home they had left, and the maintenance men,
who kept their first home in top condition, were no longer summoned to appear
at the command of Sterling Hornher, to render their services unto him.
It was not that the home wasn't adequate. It was just that in the absence of experience, 16 year old Jack, now the man of
the house, was at a loss as to how things were done at the reduced level of his
circumstances. He had never patched a
wall or snaked a drain, or fixed a leaky sink, or any of the myriad tasks that
this 30 year old ranch-style home demanded from the day they moved in. His Mother's belief that any man
instinctively knew how to fix anything that needed repair or maintenance made
Jack feel like he was not the man that his father was. With school out for the summer, Jack had
plenty of time alone to wonder why his Mother had chose to leave his Father.
Jack was at a loss.
Jack was frustrated.
Jack was honestly less than pleased with his situation...
Susan Hornher had taken the loss of her husband
badly. While she was convinced that he
was fooling around on her, she had not been able to prove anything against
Sterling Hornher, except the fact that he had not had sex with her for the last
year of their marriage. Confiding in her
friend, Hyacinth Green, had turned out to be the worst thing she had ever done,
next to actually filing for divorce.
What seemed to be a classic case of the ex-wife gets everything turned
out to be that she lost her comfortable home and now had to find employment to
make the payments on the downsized home she had managed to secure for herself
and her son.
So Susan Hornher,
the 38 year old divorcee, had entered the work force. She obtained work with a real estate title
company, working her way up from a form-shuffling secretary to form shuffling
closing-agent. The pay was acceptable,
but her budget did not allow them the luxuries they had formerly taken for
granted. Susan worked long and hard for
her money and now had a keen appreciation for the value of the stuff.
Susan now longer had the exquisite body of her
youth. Her only pregnancy had slowed her
metabolism down dramatically. At five
foot five, she now weighed about 138 pounds.
When she had married 17 years ago, she had been a beautiful 108 pounds. Her stylish, shoulder length black hair now
had a few grays mixed in. Her formerly
upthrust breasts tended to point towards
Susan reflected daily that life was not like it had
been. The sexual relationship she had
enjoyed with
Susan had dated sporadically in the two years since the
divorce. Men were not that hard to come
by in her line of work. She took a
shameful pride in the fact that she endured as much sexual harassment as the rest of the women working in her firm, although truth be
told, the other woman seemed to enjoy a control over the men that she totally
lacked. She had not been asked out on a
date by any of the men she worked with, or any of the clients conducting
business with the firm. She tended to be
shy and deferential with the men she knew, and she was not good at sexual
banter. Maybe they weren't interested in a 38 year old single mother, she
reflected sadly. I've got nothing
special to offer. Saggy, older women
like me are a dime a dozen. Men go for
the young ones.
Jack, like most 16 year olds, had raced through puberty
at a breakneck pace. In the last two
years alone, he had grown six inches to stand at almost six feet. He weighed 160 pounds, with the sandy blonde
hair his father had. A modest, quiet
boy, (intense, he reassured himself), Jack's few friendships had been immensely
important to him. The one
"girlfriend", he could claim to have had declined to pursue their
relationship over long distance phone lines.
Jack remained a highly charged unwilling virgin with few prospects for
advancement. What he found incredible was that his Father, who had it all, had
been able to leave his Mother so easily.
Jack remembered a night long ago, when he was eleven, in the old
house.
One Saturday night, after
Jack slipped out of his open bedroom door and crept
silently down the hall. His parent's
bedroom door, usually closed and locked at this hour of the night, was cracked
open. Jack's head swam as he tiptoed
closer to the sliver of light escaping from the room. He felt that he could either faint or jump
straight through the ceiling at any instant.
Jack had received his fair share of sexual knowledge,
like any boy his age, from whispered tales at school as well as HBO and the
Playboy magazines his friend, Eddie, had
regular access to. He knew the
basic difference between a man and woman, though until now the differences
hadn't made much of an impact on him. Now he suspected that such differences
were extremely important to his father, whose voice he could hear.
Jack halted at the door to his parent's room, stopping
mechanically, as though he was drugged.
His head was singing--he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. His conscience screamed at him, asking him if
he really wanted to do something so wrong--looking into his parent's bedroom,
and he was guiltily able to ignore the question. He was drawn to the light.
Inside his parent's comfortably large bedroom, he could
clearly see the bed, a four poster high-mattressed affair. His Mother and Father were both on the
bed. Both were stark naked--the first
time Jack had ever seen either a grown man or woman naked in real life.
Sterling Hornher's naked body partially obscured Jack's
view of his Mother. Susan Hornher was on
all fours, facing the headboard of the bed, away from Jack's line of
sight. Her head was down towards the
pillows, though Jack didn't really notice at the time. He was staring directly at her rump, which
faced Jack indirectly, Sterling Hornher had the commanding view.
Susan Hornher's backside was presented to Jack's gaze and
he found it fascinating beyond speech.
He could clearly see the vagina and puckered butthole that he had
heretofore only seen on the actresses and models of his pornographical forays
with Eddie. He leaned against the door
frame, feeling stunned and weakened. He
prayed that neither parent would hear him, because he was incapable of escaping
at the moment. His penis, which felt strangely large when he had
awakened, now seemed to contain the majority of his life's blood. It throbbed along in time with the wild
beating of his heart.
His Mother's ass and vagina could not compare
quality-wise with the younger women Jack had seen in the movies and
magazines. But she had an immediacy, if
only second-hand, that Jack could not believe.
Her ass was larger than any butt those models had, and her vagina seemed
larger somehow, in a way that Jack could not comprehend. Jack could sense a tension in the room, that
he did not understand. He knew they
were, "having sex", but the intimacy he had expected was
missing. Then his Mother spoke and Jack
was able to understand what was going on, although he didn't figure out the
ramifications until after the divorce.
"One last time, and then we'll try something
else?", Susan said, buried face
down in her pillow.
"Okay, one last try,
but Christ, just loosen up willya?
Or I'll have to take you to hand"
"All right", his mother sighed,
resignedly.
Sterling Hornher's right hand came up off the bed where
it had rested. He was kneeling back on
his haunches, on the bed within a foot of his wife's presented backside. Jack finally noticed that his Mother's hands
had been tied behind her back as she presented her ass to her husband. She was tripoded on her knees and head, which
she kept buried in her pillow, as if to divorce herself from the activity.
Jack stared in disbelief at his parents.
Sterling Hornher's left hand rested on the bottom of his
wife's spine. His left hand grasped an
empty beer bottle by the neck. He
brought the bottle to the lips of his wife's waiting pussy. The bottle was large end first as it
contacted her flesh.
"Ahhhhhh!....okay, okay..oooh...."
Then his father slowly eased the beer bottle almost out
of his Mother's pussy and pushed it back in, slamming the bottle into contact
with her uterus. Susan yelped again, but
to Jack's ear it didn't sound as painful as her first cries did.
"How's that feel, Cunt?", he demanded.
Jack's mother was hard pressed to respond. "Uh....Uh....Uh..." she groaned in response to his thrusts.
"Howzit feel?", he demanded again.
"Uh...Uh....Good...Uh...." Susan answered with
her face now turned to the side of her pillow.
Sterling Hornher growled, " Well then you'll love
this part, bitch",
With that,
Jack watched through the door. He was beside himself with jealousy. His father was enjoying his mother immensely
while Jack's penis throbbed almost painfully inside his underwear. He wondered if his Mother was enjoying this
weird activity or if she was just playing along and humoring his father. Whatever the case, Jack felt like his soul
was going to explode and his strangely throbbing penis felt like the weakest
link; the gateway to the explosion.
Sterling Hornher's penis slid up and down the crack of
his wife's ass. She moaned, knowing
exactly what was coming next. With
practiced ease,
However, it wasn't wrong to let your husband enjoy
himself in a way that would let her sleep, secure in the knowledge that her
husband was satisfied in the bedroom aspect of their marriage. So Susan endured such things as bottles and
whippings, and having a spouting cock forced into her mouth, fresh from her
vagina, though she told herself that she hated the very idea of such
activities. Nonetheless, she never
failed to orgasm herself, repeatedly, she amended lamely, although she told
herself, not so much from the barbarity of the specific activity, as the fact
that she had again calmed her husband's urges, as a good wife should...
Sterling Hornher pistoned his cock in and out of Susan's
rectum, building momentum toward his orgasm.
Each thrust brought a slight gasp from his wife which added greatly to
his pleasure. The tightness of Susan's
anus, and the bottle in her pussy which kept poking at his sac, drove him over
the edge. With a muffled grunt,
Susan recognized the signs of her husband's orgasm. The humiliation of what was happening to her
caused her to come suddenly and strongly again.
The bottle lodged in her pussy, stretched her immensely, contributing to her pleasure. With a small whine in her throat, the
familiar contractions began. Her vagina
and anus contracted quickly again and again.
The effect was not lost on
Jack, leaning against the wall outside the door, felt his
cock suddenly spasm repeatedly inside his underwear. He was excited and mortified at the same
time, not knowing whether to creep away or hold his ground in the face of this new
sensation. He was afraid to touch his
cock because he suspected what had happened to him. He looked down at himself in the dim light
coming out of his parent's room. Sure
enough, he could see a stain in the front of his underpants.
Susan's anus gaped slightly open, as cool air infiltrated
her intestine.
Susan lay on the bed recovering from the last
orgasm. She usually rolled away from
Jack, finally convinced that the show was over, tiptoed
back to his room and crawled into bed.
He didn't sleep a wink that night...
Over the years since he had witnessed his parents having
sex, Jack had learned a lot about his Mother.
Although the door to their room had since remained closed to his prying
eyes, his frequent inspections of their premises while they where away
confirmed to Jack that his Mother took her part in some deviant forms of sexual
activity. He had discovered a treasure
trove of paraphernalia, dildoes, restraint devices and whatnot inside a footlocker
in the walk-in closet. Many of the items
he was not familiar with at the time, and the muffled sounds coming out of
their locked bedroom door hadn't served to provide any explanations for their
use.
The Internet however, had. In the time since his Father had left, Jack
had found the pictures on the net which explained to him exactly what types of
sex his parents had indulged in and he believed that it was a safe bet that his
Mother actually liked the humiliating and submissive role she played to his
Father. Jack liked thinking about his
Mother that way. He found he couldn't
care less about his Father's part in the action, apart from the fact that he
greatly envied him.
In the time since the divorce, to his knowledge, Jack's
Mom had not had any sex with another man.
Her dates were infrequent and apparently disappointing to her and her
date, and she got few chances at a second meeting. The treasure trove, which had been left for
her remained untouched in the small walk-in closet of her new bedroom.
It was a Saturday night the night Jack changed her
life. He had stayed home alone, as he
had become used to doing, waiting for
her to return from yet another useless "girls night out" with her
friend, Hyacinth. The way these things
tended to work, she would get home
around
A pickup truck had pulled into the drive after his Mom
and she was talking in the darkness to a man.
That wasn't right.
That was not the way her forays ended...
Jack bolted out of the living room when he heard her key
at the front door. Jack glided silently
down the hallway to his bedroom. He
reached around his door and pushed the lock button on his bedroom door. Locked doors were nothing new at the Hornher
residence. Then he slipped into his
mother's bedroom. He felt his penis
stiffen rock hard with excitement. At
the instant his mother opened the front door, Jack was clambering into the
sliding-door closet of her bedroom, heading into what he prayed was a less
utilized portion of the closet. He ended
up sitting right on the treasure trove footlocker. For the first time, he wondered just what the
hell had prompted him to do this in the first place. He must have a voyeuristic streak in him, he
figured. The chances of getting caught
were pretty good actually because his mother liked to undress and take her robe
off it's accustomed hanger in the closet before she padded down the hall to
take her shower. That robe was brushing
Jack's face as he sat. He could smell his
mother's comfortably feminine smell on the robe and he rubbed his face around
the material as he waited. His cock was
threatening to escape from his sweatsuit.
Jack quickly dropped the pants down to his knees, afraid to make any
other noise. He placed his hand on his
cock, which was harder than a rock. Just
touching it seemed to rouse it. Jack
believed it must have a mind of it's own--it certainly had led him into a
closet five seconds after it heard his mother coming. It certainly hadn't been a conscious decision
on Jack's part.
Susan Hornher let herself and her manfriend into her
home. She was hoping alternatively that
Jack was still up and that he had already gone to bed. It was after two in the morning after all, two hours past her normal return. She hoped he hadn't worried. She was drunk and eager for a man's companionship. This guy, she thought his name was Bill, had
insisted on seeing her home from the country bar she and Hyacinth had gone
to. Hyacinth, seemingly amused, had
egged her into bringing him home for a "quickie". A quickie was the term Hyacinth used to
denote quick sex with a man unworthy of a relationship. A quickie now and then, Hyacinth said, kept a
divorced woman on track.
Susan Hornher was feeling indecisive when she entered her
home. She decided that if Jack was still
up that she would turn and thank Bill for seeing her home. If Jack was asleep in his room, then she
would go for the quickie.
Susan looked and listened in the small entryway of the
home. Jack was not around, although she
was puzzled because she still sensed his presence. Still, he did not appear to be up, so she
moved into the living room and allowed Bill, who is right on my ass, she
thought cheekily, into the home. Susan
turned to him and made the universal signal for quiet to Bill. She dumped her coat on the couch and slipped
down the hall. Jack's door was closed;
she turned the door knob silently to check that he really was asleep, but the
door was locked--not too unusual for him.
She returned to the living room and surveyed Bill
hopefully. Susan was seeing him for the first time in full light.
Bill was a man in
his early forties, a twice-divorced city man tricked into thinking country
music was keeping him young and appealing.
He stood about six foot, weighed about 230 on a frame designed for no more
than 200 pounds, with the characteristic gut of a man who liked his night
life. His hairline had retreated and
formed a last defensive stand on the high ground of his skull. Cowboy hats were perfect for hiding things
like that. His ability to remember simple dances while intoxicated, along with
his gentlemanly way of paying for exotic drinks for her and Hyacinth had scored
for him this night. She was hoping for
big things from Bill, maybe some of the things she and Sterling used to
do. She couldn't broach these subjects
outright, and her casual banter with him had only led her to believe that
Bill's taste in sex was strictly vanilla.
But to a starved woman, even vanilla had it's appeal.
"So, what's going on, sugarlips?", Bill
whispered on her return. Bill had doffed
his levi jacket and was sitting on the couch admiring his python skin boots
which had cost him two week's pay.
"My son's asleep", Susan reported with a rush
of relief, feeling somewhat ashamed to have Jack see this man in their
home.
"Well, all right,
howzabout we do the deed, purty lady--the night's wasting away an' I
gotta get ta work afore the sunrise".
For a store manager at Wal-Mart, Bill could affect quite
a twang when called upon, Susan reflected, then chided herself. Bill was a nice guy and a perfect
gentleman. Still she wondered, just how
long a quickie had to last. She
definitely didn't want Bill around when her son, Jack awoke. The tryst would give her something to
off-handedly mention to Hyacinth, to prove that she could bring home the link
sausage if she wanted to, but altogether, it seemed pretty sordid. Not that Bill was a any kind of prize--she
and Hyacinth had seen him at the bar at closing time often, going home
empty-handed after buying scores of drinks for divorced women and two-stepping
until he could two-step no more... Susan decided to skip the small talk.
"Let's go, she said, turning and walking down the
hall towards her room. She turned to
tell Bill that they'd have to be quiet.
Bill was walking behind her. He
had already slipped his boots off at the couch.
He had unbuttoned his western shirt at a furious pace and had dropped it
on the floor of the hallway.
"Be quiet", Susan cautioned.
Bill grinned and nodded.
Susan turned on the light in her bedroom and stepped over
to her side of the bed. She quickly
undressed herself and dove under the covers.
Bill followed suit, only too happy to be there, he was breaking a bad
losing streak tonight.
Jack Hornher sat in the closet, agonizing over his
situation. He wanted to open the closet
and announce his presence because he felt so embarrassed by what he was
doing. He had left the slightest sliver
of the closet door open and he had seen plenty. He knew his mother had checked on him and
found his door locked. He had heard the
conversation, such as it was, with the
ridiculous guy. He did not want to
watch. But his penis threatened to reach
forward and slide the closet door open itself if he entertained any more
thoughts of treason and Jack deferred to a stronger power.
Jack had watched his Mom intently as she entered the room
and undressed. She had unbuttoned her
blouse and then her skirt. Both items
fell to the floor. She had reached
behind her with the practiced motion of her kind and unclasped her bra faster
than any man could. The bra fell to the
floor, leaving her standing in her panties.
She peeled the Sears panties down her tummy and onto the floor.
Susan stood motionless for one instant, unwittingly
allowing Jack a chance to look at her.
Her skin was white and untanned--she did not go in for sunning. Her breasts were a fair size, bigger than
anything Jack had been able to get his hands on. They sagged in the classic fashion that Jack
had grown to adore. Her stomach and
abdomen tended to pooch out over her panties, but she was certainly not
grotesque in any way. Her butt, as she
turned to dive into bed, was white and full, two heavy, motherly moons beaming
with the mysteries Jack dearly wanted to solve.
The mystery man quickly followed his Mother into the
bedroom, dragging his levi pants down along with his underwear, almost tripping
to get to the bed. His pants off, Bill,
almost slipped into bed alongside Jack's Mom until he whirled back around to
turn off the light.
"Leave it on", Jack's Mom whispered intently,
hoping Bill would start catching the signal that she wanted something, anything
racy or humiliating to get her juices flowing.
"Okey-dokey", Bill replied, whirling back again
and sliding under the covers on the other side of the bed.
"I'm on the Pill, but do you have protection?"
Susan asked, anxious and worried and turned on all at the same time.
"If you're on the Pill, we're all set. Ah'm clean.
I don't get around as much as some of the ladies think", Bill
answered. He knew it was time to make
his move before her inhibitions threw him off the horse.
"How about we...", Susan started before Bill
suddenly rolled over onto her. His bulk
on top of her was suffocating, yet comforting.
It reminded her of Sterling, taking charge and getting the best out of
her.
She hoped for good things to come.
Bill had other thoughts though. He balanced his weight on one hand, and
grasped his thickening penis with the other.
He brought his penis to the lips of her vagina and inserted
himself. She was wet enough to permit
his entry. Bill preferred to just get
down to business before this woman started thinking too much and maybe kicking
him out of bed because he didn't have a condom.
Additionally, Bill was under the impression that his intercourse with a
woman was highly pleasing to them and usually they didn't regret the lack of
foreplay once they had a taste of Wild Bill and his trained penis, Little
Bill.
Bill always counted on his intoxication to slow him down
and keep him steady for the full nine innings.
What Bill hadn't counted on the stadium lights being on, and the thought
that this woman had a son sleeping just down the hall. Bill found these things highly arousing, even
in his inebriated state. Little Bill
thrust and thrust and a dozen thrusts farther he spent himself inside Susan.
Susan, after the initial shock of having Bill climb onto
her and work himself into her, had relaxed and concentrated on the feeling of
being used by Bill; it made her feel degraded and wanton. What Bill was failing to provide her mentally
she was providing herself and it was working.
Then she suddenly felt Bill stiffen and start to grunt intensely. She knew that he was coming, and she was
disappointed. She still felt dirty and
slutty, but now just in aftersex sort of way.
She only wanted this to be over and to get a long hot shower with her
showerwand. She had finally got into the
game after sitting the bench for months and she had merely been put in as a
catcher. At times, like this she really
regretted splitting up with Sterling.
Bill was mortified.
His one good pitch, a slow curveball, had turned into a fastball and he
didn't have any pitches left in the repertoire to save the game. He would try to pitch again tomorrow in a
different stadium, he told himself. The ball doesn't carry well here. He quickly decided to throw out a face-saving
gambit and head for the showers.
"Uh...did you, uhh, you know...?: he asked
awkwardly.
"Yes, Bill, I did", Susan lied, feeling sorry
for poor Bill
"Uh....that's good....I gotta run....I gotta let my
dog out, and uh, I gotta get some sleep", Bill finished lamely, pulling
out of Susan and heading for his clothes.
His clothes, if anything, went on even faster than they had come
off.
Jack, in the closet, had a pretty fair guess about what
had gone on. He hadn't seen anything
because they were under the covers, but he sensed embarrassment on both their
parts and his own shame had been replaced by intense interest in the expression
on his mother's face. He hadn't touched
himself, because he wanted to come when she did. That hadn't happened--that hadn't happened at
all.
Jack had went from being a highly excited peeping tom to
a sixteen year old trapped in his mother's closet.
Bill, having finished his hurried dressing, made vague
promises to call Susan in the future, maybe to get together sometime, made a
hasty exit from the bedroom. She heard
the front door open and shut and within a few seconds, heard the pickup truck
start up and leave the driveway. She was
disheartened by the quick performance and the unsatisfied feeling in her cunt. Bill's semen hadn't even started to drip out
of her and he was already gone. She
hoped all these "quickies" weren't so unfulfilling.
Susan sighed, and threw off the covers. She had to lock the front door and start the
shower running. She'd go to the kitchen
and have a cigarette while she waited for the water to warm up. Susan got out of bed and went to the
closet. She slid the door wider and
grabbed her flannel robe, which was the first garment she saw in the closet. She put it on and padded out to lock up.
Jack made his move as soon as he heard his mother lock
the front door and turn on the shower.
He pulled his pants back up and fairly leaped out of the closet. It had been too close when his mother had
opened the closet. He had been sitting
next to her robe when she grabbed it off the hanger. Had she been paying attention he would have
been caught. It started him to
thinking. What if he had been
caught? What would he have said? What would she have said in the presence of
"Bill"? It would have
embarrassed her immensely, which was part of her turn-on as far as he
knew. Although her turn-on probably
didn't include finding her son in the closet in the presence of a man she
hardly knew.
Jack eased quickly out of the closet and hid behind his
mother's bedroom door in case she came back from the hallway bathroom. He could not hear any sound from the shower,
and nothing broke the fall of the water.
Then he heard the sound of a cupboard in the kitchen and he knew she was
in the kitchen having a cigarette. Jack
slipped out and unlocked his bedroom door with the nail they kept over the
door. He eased the door open to
indicate, should the need arise, that he had awakened and left his
bedroom. Jack scrambled out of his
sweatsuit which he tossed onto the floor of his room. He left his underwear on.
Jack made a decision based in large part on the raging
hormones and his need for release. He
hoped he could appeal to his Mother's sense of humiliation. It would be so much safer to beat off and go
to sleep. Hell, he had that down to a
science, but he figured this was his one good chance to make a fantasy into a
reality. And Mom had just had an
unpleasant reality herself.
Jack walked silently through the carpeted hallway and
living room, collecting his thoughts.
His mind was racing as he walked into the kitchen and found his Mother,
with her robe unbelted, absently tweaking her left nipple while she sat smoking
at the kitchen table. Her robe was
unbelted, as she didn't think Jack was awake.
"Nasty habit, Mom", Jack said striding into the
room.
"Jack! Oh, I
didn't know you were awake!", Susan squealed, almost dropping the
cigarette out of her mouth in her haste to cover herself. She wondered if Jack had seen her fingers on
her nipple. She feared that he had, and
she prayed that he was referring to her smoking as nasty.
"What's nasty?
My smoking right?" she faltered, feeling the familiar, comforting
sense of shame wash warmly over her.
"Well, that too", Jack answered non-commitally,
striding over to the fridge and popping out one of the bottles of beer that her
brothers had left from the time they moved her into this house. He opened the twist off top and sat down, not
across the kitchen table from her, but right next to her. She felt the robe couldn't be wrapped too
many times around her body at the moment.
"Jack, what do you think you're doing? I don't allow you to drink alcohol, you're
only sixteen. And it's past two in the
morning--what do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that? You almost gave me a heart attack, you son of
a bitch!". Susan worked her anger
up from her shame, trying to get control of the situation.
"Now pour that beer out in the sink and get your ass
to bed! And what filthy habit?" she
hissed, knowing automatically that she shouldn't have passed the conversational
torch back to him.
"Huh", Jack answered thoughtfully, slouched
confidently in the chair, staring her right in the face. Susan Hornher realized at that point, how
much Jack resembled the casual, cocky manner of her ex-husband. He seemed very much at ease with her shame,
almost seem to revel in causing her to feel degraded. He did not say anything. Slowly, his eyes, which held hers in a
thoughtful gaze, moved down her body slowly, drinking in her neck and shoulders,
and pausing more than a decent interval on her robed chest. Susan felt the momentum turn. She fought for control
"Did you hear me?
Did you hear me?! I told you to
get to bed! Answer me!"
"So, how did your evening go? You were out awful late", Jack asked
simply, ignoring her anger easily on the surface, struggling to maintain his
poise, although his heart was beating a mile a minute. He took a swig from the beer bottle, watching
her over the bottle as he swallowed. He
hoped his hand wasn't shaking. He
thought he could see an extra flush to her face as he stared back at her face,
but he could not be sure. He forced
himself to act casual sitting next to her.
His mother gasped at his audacity. She struggled for words.
"What?! How
did my evening go? What business is that
of yours at two in the morning?! I'm
just sitting here minding my own business when you come in her and scare the
shit out of me, and now you think you can just sit there and talk to me like
its no big deal?!", Susan demanded, still wondering what was going on with
Jack, all of the sudden, he didn't seem
like the boy she had raised. He
seemed like his father.
"Scared the what out of you? Did you say,
I scared the "shit" out of you?, Jack asked quietly, sipping
his beer and looking intently at his Mother.
Yes, he thought, she did blush when he said that. Keep it up, keep the intensity up he urged
himself.
"Yes, I said you scared the shit out of me",
Susan echoed, almost whispering the word.
"What's gotten into you?--you're acting weird and it's scaring
me". "Tell me", she
pleaded, looking into his face, aching to know what was going on in their
little home. She felt ashamed that he
had caught her feeling her nipple, and worried that he knew about her quickie
with Bill.
"So, I'm sleeping in my lonely bed, when you got
home. I hear you get home with some
guy. I'm thinking, Huh! this is
something new. My mom, bringing home a
date. That hasn't happened before. I'm laying in bed when you try to come into
my room to see if your little boy is sleeping.
Then you guys go into your bedroom."
Susan buried her face in her hands and moaned.
Jack continued, " You leave your bedroom door open
and you left the light on. I unlock my
door and what do I see when I step out?
Some guy on top of my mom, slipping the beef to her!"
Jack stopped and took a long swig of his beer, feeling
more and more confident.
Susan waited for him to continue--she knew he wasn't
done. She was mortified. When he said, "on top of my mom",
her vagina seemed to swell, engorged with blood and tingling . She suspected Jack could smell her if he
leaned any closer to her.
Jack waited a short time, until her hands started to move
from her face. Then he resumed. "So this Bill is fucking you. He only goes about twenty seconds then he
comes. I'm watching your face. Seemed kind of disappointed didn't you? You were expecting more, weren't you? I felt I should go in and tap the guy on the
shoulder and tell him how bad he's fucked up.
But you lie to him and off he goes".
Susan raised her face to him. She had tears in her eyes. She wanted to say how sorry she was that he
had seen that. She wanted to explain how
a grown woman had needs and how she had made a mistake. She wanted to tell him that she missed his
father sometimes. She wanted to say how
much he had grown and that she appreciated how hard he worked around the house
and that the only thing missing from her life now was a man. She wanted to say anything that would end
this kitchen table encounter. Her
cigarette had burned down in her fingers; she stubbed it out hurriedly and lit
a new cigarette with shaking hands. She ignored the tingling of her clitoris,
stimulated by her humiliation at the words of her son.
She raised her burning face to him and all words were
struck from her mind. Jack had finished
his beer.
Jack had inverted the empty beer bottle. It lay in his fist, fat side up toward the
ceiling. Jack stared intently at her.
Susan Hornher, flushed beet red by the unspoken
insinuation that Jack knew what it took to get her stimulated. She felt her left hand slide off the kitchen
table to rest on her lap, partially hidden under the table. She knew that Jack, whose eyes never left
hers, had nonetheless noted the movement.
She was afraid she was going to stroke her crotch right in front of him
if she couldn't end this conversation.
She fumbled for something to say.
"Jackie....I..." she started.
"Jackie...I...What?", Jack cocked his head to
look at her. "Jackie, I just let
some loser hose my cunt with his sperm?
Jackie, I'm leaking right here in this chair while we're talking? Jackie,
I'm ashamed right now to be discussing what's going to happen
next?"
"Yes! Yes! I'm ashamed!", Susan screamed and
burst out crying, burying her head in her arms on the table.
Jack let her sob a few minutes and then said quietly,
"Mom, go turn off the shower and get into bed"
His mother raised her head warily with alarm in her
eyes. "You're telling me to go to
bed? My son is sending me to my room--is
that how low I've sunk, Jack? Is that
what your old Mom has come to? Was I
caught screwing and now I'm being punished?
Is that it Jack?. Susan seemed to
be on the verge of hysteria Jack thought.
Bear down, he told himself.
"Mom, go turn off the shower. I made a mistake when I told you to get into
bed, and I'm sorry", Jack reached over and stroked his Mother's hair
reassuringly. "What I meant to say
was Get On The Bed".
Susan stiffened and went pale. "What?", she whispered, not
believing her ears.
"It's very simple, mother", Jack explained with
a patience he did not feel. "Turn
off the shower, get onto your bed"
"And then what?" Susan whispered, unbelievingly.
"You wait for me"
"Jack, I can't--we--you're..."
Jack got up slowly out of his chair. He grabbed his mother's hands with his own
and pulled her gently to her feet. He
gazed down at her, then pulled her close, rubbing his groin against her stomach
and placing his hands down her lower back onto the tops of her ass cheeks. Susan remained stiff, the blood pounding in
her veins. She knew she wanted this and
she knew it was wrong. When her clitoris
rubbed up against his the top of his thigh she almost moaned aloud. She couldn't think straight.
"Go", he commanded her.
"I...I...-I'll lock my door", she stammered,
afraid to even look up at his face.
"No you won't", Jack answered knowingly,
"You know you've got dues to pay, and the sooner the better, right
Mom?" Susan didn't answer.
Jack disengaged his embrace. He took Susan gently by the shoulders and
turned her towards the bedroom. He gave
her a gentle shove. Susan staggered for
a step, then caught her balance. It
looked like she was sleepwalking through the living room and down the
hall. She paused at the end of the hall
before heading into the bathroom to turn off the shower.
Jack listened. His
mother was in the bathroom for about ten seconds before she moved the shower
curtain and slowly turned the shower off.
She bumped into the bathroom door on the way out. She then walked quietly into her bedroom and
Jack heard the sound of the mattress springs creaking as she clambered onto the
bed. Mom was at ground zero. Jack heaved a sigh of relief. He felt shaky and weak after maintaining the
outward insolence and confidence he needed to get the best of Susan. He had won the first battle. Now he had to win the war. Jack was off to win her heart and mind and
hopefully some of the choicer pieces too.
Susan was dazed as she walked into her bedroom. She could not believe this was happening and
she had no way to stop it. I tried, she
told herself, I tried, but it didn't work.
He wants it and I can't stop him.
It's wrong--and it's wrong the way I'm wet and ready. He's just a boy--just my son, and he's got
power over me. Just like Sterling
did.
Without conscious thought, Susan had pulled the sheets down on the bed
and crawled settled atop on all fours in the middle of the bed, just like she
used to when she was married. She heard
Jack approaching.
Jack paused outside Susan's open bedroom door and
gathered his courage. He gazed at his
mother on all fours on her bed, waiting for him. He hadn't told her what to do and she had
done it anyway. She was presenting
herself to him, he told himself excitedly.
Her backside was presented and ready for action. She had left her robe on, but that just made
it more erotic. Mom in her old,
comfortable robe, in the position.
Jack stepped through the open doorway. He was operating on instinct now. His goal was to keep Susan humiliated and
off-balance until he had accomplished his goal--a couple of satisfying orgasms
that didn't involve his hand and, wish beyond wishes, to lay the groundwork for
a whole new style of relationship with his mother. He wanted at least a semi-willing participant
when he was through.
Jack stared at his mother. With one hand, he reached behind him and
swung her bedroom door shut. When it
closed loudly, not a slam mind you, he told himself, it shut with a final
authority. He jumped inwardly, his
senses were highly attuned.
Susan, on the bed had heard Jack come into her room. His pause inside her door was electrifying to
her. She wondered what he was thinking
as he watched her, like a mother slut, ready for her son's activities inside
the womb that had bore him. When the
door shut, she flinched and gasped. Her
vagina, sheathed under the final protection of her robe, gaped open
momentarily, then resealed. She was at
fever pitch, she knew, and all her being centered on her privates, soon to be
displayed to her child. He spoke, and
she jumped at the sound of his voice.
"Gotta close the door, Mom. We wouldn't want anyone walking in on us
would we?"
Susan couldn't answer.
"Wouldn't want Bill coming back to take a pair of
souvenir panties off you to show the boys at work, would we?"
Susan burned crimson at the thought and the Kegal muscles
of her pelvic floor squeezed in an involuntary response.
"Wouldn't want anyone to see that footlocker full of
stuff you keep in your closet, would you?"
Susan gasped with shock.
Jack moved towards the bed; each wooden footfall sending
a shock up his leg and through his spine up to his head. He felt hot, almost sweating. Butterflies launched themselves from the
floor of his stomach. Gotta get my eyes
on the prize, he told himself, before this whole thing falls apart on me.
Jack sat down on the bed behind his mother, with his feet
on the floor. His mom, in her servile
position, seemed to be quivering, almost imperceptibly.
"I probably should have told you to take off your
robe first--you've probably leaked that guys sap on it. You'll have to wash it tomorrow eh?",
Jack asked, hoping his mother would answer and allow him to get a read on her
emotional state.
Susan didn't answer.
Jack moved fully onto the bed. "Time to raise the curtain the first
act", he murmured, almost to himself.
He grasped the hem of Susan's robe and peeled it up her thighs to rest
on the top of her ass. Jack got the view
his father had owned and walked away from without a backward glance.
Susan trembled when Jack pulled her robe up her thighs to
expose her to his eyes. She felt
incredibly aroused by the thought that she was being displayed to her son. I'm under his power, she thought, I'm under
his spell.
Jack was enraptured at the site of his mother's
backside. Her entire body was an
alabaster white, the creaminess broken by the terrain relief of panty lines,
moles and small, bluish veins marbling the essential softness of her skin. He found these features to be visually
appealing.
Jack focused on the cheeks of her ass, presented to his
view. Susan's ass, full now that she
approached her middle years, sagged invitingly when she walked. In this position however, her ass seemed
perfect to him, the perfect size to caress endlessly, the perfect size to bump
against. Jack spread her cheeks slightly
to inspect.
Susan's brown-red anus peeked out at him. It winked, then remained motionless to his
gaze. Jack blinked, then closed and
reopened her cheeks gently to see if it would happen again. It didn't.
His mother's skin seemed so warm to his hands. He stroked and clenched his hands on her
buttcheeks and thighs. Her thighs, heavy
without exercise, flapped when he moved them.
He wanted to lean in and smell the smells that hinted at his nose a foot
and a half away, but Bill had left something there that had to be removed
first. That much he knew, and it fell
within the game.
Susan, at Jack's first touch, had a very small
orgasm. His hands were hot and moist on
her as he inspected her private parts.
When he spread her cheeks, her vagina opened and hollowed out, as it
always did prior to an orgasm. His slow
hands were excruciating to her.
Jack examined the fabric of his mother's robe where it
rested on her back. Yes, there was a
small glop of something there, about where she would sit. He parted her cheeks again and examined her
pussy. Susan's pussy lips were
definitely wettened by something other than her own juice, Jack judged. Okay.
"You still got Bill's cum in you, just as I
suspected. It's on your robe too"
Susan moaned and shifted her position, but didn't
answer.
"What can we do to clean you up before we
proceed?", Jack asked his mother.
Susan, motionless as a statue, did not answer.
Jack moved up the bed and surveyed her face buried in a
pillow. He placed one hand on her back,
leaned down towards her ear.
"Got any suggestions, Mom?"
No response.
"Answer me.
Got any suggestions as to how we can get rid of Bill's sperm?"
Susan squirmed nervously before whispering
"no", from the depths of her pillow.
Jack sighed, then resumed.
"Then you're in luck, Mom. I think I can collect his sap and rid you of
the embarrassment your activities caused here tonight. It's a good thing I grabbed this teaspoon before
I left the kitchen. I thought it might
come in handy".
Jack moved back to his position at his mother's upraised
butt. He pushed at the inside of her
thighs and noted that she accommodated him immediately by spreading herself
wider. Her pussy now gaped invitingly at
him.
Jack rubbed the rounded side of the spoon gently against
the lips of her pussy, gathering wetness from her. He rubbed the spoon on her clitoris,
eliciting sighs from his mother. Then he
set to work.
Jack turned the spoon over and grazed it over the inner
lips. Not much here, he thought. He slid the spoon into his mother's vagina
and scraped it around in circles. Her
pussy almost twisted the spoon out of his hand.
He pulled it back out for inspection.
"Now we're talking Mom! Thatta Girl!", he
shouted excitedly. Susan flinched.
The teaspoon held a bit of Bill's residue in it. Jack reinvested the spoon slowly and did a
thorough job. When it emerged, it held
more of the essence of Bill. Probably,
all he would get after this time, he thought.
Well, that wasn't the point of the exercise anyway--It's the thought
that counts, he decided.
Jack bounced excitedly up to the head of Susan's
bed. Her face, buried in the pillow,
shifted away to the right, away from his body.
Jack put a leg on the floor and leaned over his mother to see her
face.
"C'mon Ma!
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down! Head's up!
" Jack held the spoon at
head height. Susan remained silent,
adjusting her position automatically to maintain her balance amid Jack's
excited movements on her bed.
"C'mon Ma, it's this spoon--it's not even close to
full--or I get your toothbrush and we whiten your teeth. You won't wake up with minty fresh breath
that way", Jack sang.
Susan's head moved.
She's considering her options, Jack thought.
"C'mon Ma, it's the lesser of two evils", Jack
whispered. Susan's head swiveled 180
degrees to face him. Or at least face
his direction.
Jack removed his other left from the bed and stood facing
his mother's left side. His penis, poked
furiously at the confinement of his underwear.
Jack felt like he could blast at any second. Had to keep the game moving.
Jack reached his right hand around Susan's rump and
started to play with her pussy and clitoris.
He held the spoon with it's load, right up at her face. Susan's eyes were closed like she was
concentrating. Her backside pushed at
his hand, and she moaned back in the throat.
Jack watched.
Susan, was mortified by the spoon Jack was using to clean
her out. Even Sterling had never
conceived anything like that. She had
orgasmed, clasping the spoon, almost flipping it out of Jack's hand. Now he wanted her to open her mouth and take
it in. He promised a worse torture if
she didn't. She couldn't have him brush
her teeth with Bill's semen. She
couldn't.
When Jack started
rubbing her pussy, she came again, a series of small, fluttering orgasms. She decided.
Susan's mouth opened.
Jack gaped at her face, eyes shut, mouth open. He could see a filling.
"Head up, Ma", Jack whispered intently, his
voice almost breaking with the tension.
His penis lurched inside his underpants, almost at the point of
betrayal.
Susan lifted her head several inches off the pillow, eyes
closed, her head coming forward to accept the gift. Jack slowly brought the spoon to her
outstretched mouth. He placed the spoon
in her mouth. Susan's mouth remained
open for several seconds, then, with a shudder, she closed her mouth on
it. Jack was struck dumb. His hand forgot it's task on her
privates. Susan nodded almost
imperceptibly. Jack pulled the spoon
millimeter by millimeter from her mouth.
The spoon was clean.
Susan lay with her head turned toward her son. Her mouth was filled with the taste of Bill's
bleachy, salty, cum. She wondered if she
should swallow or wait for Jack to tell her.
She had reached a point of humiliation that she hadn't felt was possible before tonight. Her vagina yawned and snapped shut based
solely on the emotions she was feeling at the moment. She heard Jack's feet shuffling on the
carpet. She kept her eyes screwed shut
and waited.
Jack knew that he wouldn't be losing his virginity inside
her mother's mysterious vagina that night.
There was no time. He was afraid
that any sudden movement would send him spurting into his underpants, and if
that happened he knew his mother's eyes would fly open and catch him in an
embarrassing moment of his own. Couldn't
let that happen.
Jack tore his gaze off his mother's pretty face and
stared at the ceiling until he had mastered his penis again. Then he quickly stepped out of his
underpants, kicking them off his right foot impatiently. He had to say something to Susan, to let her
know he was still in control. His penis
beat a drum of rebellion as he faced his mother.
"Closer to the edge and open your mouth", was
the best he could manage.
His mom suspected what was coming next. She swallowed and moved her face closer to
his body. She opened her mouth. She spoke.
Jack pressed his knees against the mattress, his penis
raced him towards Susan's face and won by about six inches. When she spoke, he almost spurted in
alarm.
"The bottle?"
"What?...", Jack asked stupidly. "Bottle?"
"That bottle?" Susan whispered.
"Bottle?", Jack echoed, trying to grasp what
she was trying to impart. Oh, he
suddenly realized. Oh, the Bottle. Jack considered briefly, then reached his
decision.
He turned and flew to the bedroom door, pausing just long
enough to open it before flying down the hall, penis bouncing angularly as he
ran. He grabbed the bottle off the
kitchen table and whirled to turn and run back again before something bad
happened to the game.
Then he stopped, whirled again and dashed to the small
pantry closet. He grabbed the small
plastic bottle of canola oil, unscrewing it with his teeth. He poured the oil onto the bottle and dropped
the canola oil back onto the shelf. On
the run back to the bedroom, he massaged the oil onto the beer bottle. He raced back into his former position, heart
beating wildly. Nothing appeared to have
changed in the 17 seconds he had been gone.
Good.
He walked to the foot of the bed and climbed on. He viewed his mother's posterior with urgent
interest. He scooted up into position
and started to work his mother's pussy with the oil coating his left hand. Susan moaned at his ministrations, inflating
his skull with good, hard thoughts.
Maybe he should stay down here and get some business done. He sniffed his left hand
surreptitiously. Oh my, he thought
giddily. I've got to go...
Susan felt Jack fiddling with the lips of her cunt,
lubing her, she thought, for the invasion.
Then she felt the bottle, bottom end first, pushing
against her lips, battering it's way.
She shifted and pushed back. For
a moment, the bottle perched on the edge of her chasm, then toppled massively
suddenly into her void. Susan gave a
little shriek of pain from the sudden intrusion into her cunt. She gasped and panted, struggling to overcome
the discomfort. Jack watched, his hand
still on the neck of the bottle. He was
ready to pull it out. It appeared to be
hurting her too much. Then Susan pushed
back. The bottle, braced in his hand,
sank the last few centimeters into her maw.
Jack whistled mentally. Wow, he
thought. He sank back on his haunches
for a minute to admire the spectacle.
The bottle neck protruded from Susan's cunt. Her lips stretched to accommodate the girth
of the brown glass phallus. Her rectum,
exposed to his eyes, was oval now, instead of the starred brown circle he had
first seen.
Susan felt stretched beyond recent memory. Her pussy clenched around the invader, and
she was close, oh so close, to the big
and final orgasm that would leave her sore and satisfied. Push, she thought,
Push.
Jack shook himself out of his reverie. It's time, he told himself, it's time. Jack scooted off the bed to stand at Susan's
head, his cock jutting like a saber towards the ceiling. Time for the last act.
"Open"
Susan shivered with the implication of obeying such an
order. She froze.
"Open your mouth", Jack whispered.
Susan remained motionless, eyes tightly shut. Then her face relaxed, and her mouth
opened. Her neck craned forward to the
place she heard him speak. Jack placed
his knees against the high mattress and leaned forward. His bent his cock to the horizontal. It stopped within an inch of her mouth. Her exhalations blew warm moist breath on
him. Jack pulled her neck gently towards
his penis and Susan appropriately shifted her whole body to the his edge of the
bed. Her mouth lay waiting for him.
Jack took a mental deep breath and began. He groped for the bottle, never taking his
eyes off his mother's beautiful face. He
worked the bottle in and out of her vagina, her moans warming the tip of his
penis. After a few seconds, he leaned
his body forward and his cockhead entered Susan's mouth.
Susan, expecting this last humiliation, felt her son's
penis enter her mouth. She closed her
mouth gently on his penis, holding him there, resting on her tongue. She felt him pistoning the bottle inside
her. She felt so full.
"Now open your eyes"
Susan blinked her closed eyes, unsure that she had heard
right.
"Open your eyes", the command came again. Susan remained motionless.
"Hurry!", the command came urgently.
Susan opened her eyes for an instant, gazing down the
length of her son's penis to his pubis.
Jack watched her eyes flutter open, then close. He was about to try again, when his mother's
eyes opened wide and she stared at his crotch.
The warm, wet pressure of her mouth upon his penis sent him to the
brink. He leaned over his abdomen over
her head, resting his weight on his arms.
He thrust his penis slowly in and out of her mouth.
Watching himself, he ejaculated into his mother.
Susan, staring wildly at her son, suddenly tasted the
sperm he was emptying into her mouth.
Her final orgasm exploded for her, Her pussy clenched and unclenched
around the beer bottle. She felt the
flutter of her stomach muscles as the contractions gripped her regularly and
finishing with an intermittent series.
She felt languid and spent, with her son's penis laying in her
mouth. His ejaculate reminded her
distinctly of Sterling's.
Jack rested his weight on his forearms, while he caught
his breath. His prostate was throbbing,
and his legs were shaky. He gathered his
strength. His penis throbbed gently,
relaxing now inside Susan's mouth. Jack
believed he could go on forever in this position. Nothing he had done to himself had ever
approached the feeling he had right now.
Susan slowly slumped down onto her tummy, the bottle
sticking incongruously out of her. She
waited, as she would have for Sterling.
Jack knew the game was over. It was time to put the toys away. He hoped to take something away from the
encounter that would portend a long and happy summer for himself.
Jack pushed back onto his feet, his penis slipping out of
Susan's mouth. He looked to see if she
would swallow; she didn't. Her face,
eyes staring vacantly past him, remained relaxed.
Jack moved to the foot of the bed and threw one knee onto
the bed. He surveyed her buttocks, her
legs spread slightly because of the bottle.
He grasped the bottle and removed it slowly. His mother didn't move; she only gasped
slightly. Her vagina, freed from the
circumference of the intruder, gaped open like a mouth, then slowly closed
loosely.
Jack placed the bottle quietly into the wastebasket next
to his mother's dresser. He was waiting
for a signal from his mother that everything was all right or all wrong. He needed a clue to her feelings.
She spoke tiredly.
"This is never going to happen again...Never again"
He remained silent.
Her words hadn't brought a response to his mind.
"I don't know how this happened...how I let you talk
me into this...but it was wrong-I was wrong...this shouldn't have
happened. I can't even look at you in
the face. What kind of mother am I? What kind of mother has sex with her
son? I've failed", she concluded,
"first as a wife, and now this".
Jack moved back to her and stroked her hair. She lay on her stomach facing him, with her
eyes closed. Jack suspected she would
begin to cry.
"Look, I don't know why Dad left you. I'd guess you don't and he doesn't know
either. You were a good wife to him from
what I know, and you've always been a good mother. This doesn't matter. This doesn't mean anything. Hey, we were happy at the old place. We're not so happy here. At least not yet. It'll take time, but we'll be all right. We've got each other". Susan stiffened.
"I'm just saying, Jack said hurriedly, "that
we're a team. We were a team of three
when you and Dad were married, but he's gone now, and that leaves us. Your life isn't over-you haven't failed at
anything. Someday you'll find someone
and you can be happy with him, like you were with Dad. It'll happen, I know it will. This was just a little game, something for
both of us. It doesn't mean
anything. And it was good. And that's what matters. For a short time I mean, nothing mattered. You're a beautiful woman and a good
mother. Don't think about this too much,
don't think about it in the morning.
I've got things to do and so do you.
Tomorrow, we'll clean the house.
Maybe get a pizza for dinner, rent a movie or something. Just relax, and get ready for Monday. Come Saturday, you go out again with
Hyacinth".
Susan rested, comforted by his words, sleepy and ready
for bed. "I don't think men like my
looks anymore", she said. "I'm getting old".
"You've still got your looks, and something like
this drives any guy crazy-it makes him feel like a man, I'll tell you
that", Jack promised.
"How did you know about my talent?", Susan
asked, turning and looking directly at him.
Jack didn't answer immediately. He busied himself by pulling the sheet and
blanket over his mother's naked form, making her comfortable. "Your talent?".
"That I liked it...different?", Susan asked,
blushing.
"I saw the stuff in that box in the closet once
before we moved", Jack lied, as much for his mother as for himself.
"Oh, I see", his mother answered. "But why the beer bottle?, she asked
impulsively, watching him.
"The box was locked and I didn't have a key-and I
didn't think you'd tell me where it was."
Susan rested.
"You did like it though, right?" Jack blurted,
anxiously. He waited and waited for a
response, the air in the room cold now.
"Yes", came his mother's reply, almost
inaudibly. Jack smiled with relief. He stooped down to pick up his underpants off
the floor. "I'll see you tomorrow,
Mom".
"Okay", his mother answered. Jack turned to walk out of her bedroom, to
leave her alone with her thoughts.
"Jack?"
"What?"
Silence filling the space in the conversation, Jack
waited.
"The key is taped to the bottom of my jewelry box on
the dresser"
"Okay, Goodnight Mom, I love you". Jack's soul was singing.
"I love you too.
Goodnight", his mother answered.
The End....at
least for now...
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