Anthrax!
There was a fucking band, “back in the day” as her generation would say!
They were still going now, but they weren’t the same. Nothing was the same anymore. Back in the ’90s Stevie had many a fucking good time, and many a raw fucking, to that band’s barrage of thrashing drums and eardrum ripping guitars.
Even just being invited to see the tribute band by her son had her giddy with excitement. A week in advance before the gig at Stairway to Hell – one of the last remaining old-school rock and metal clubs around – and Stevie was dragging out all of the old vinyls.
He had everything covered on the night. It felt a little bit like a date, despite its innocent simplicity, which still openly thrilled her. He plied her with booze. It had been decades since Stevie had a night of knocking back the beers, but she hadn’t lost her touch.
Ray had been a poser, with his sickly pop music. And just because a man was a bit of a character, that didn’t make him a man of character. Ray had been a bit of a beak-head and a pill-popper also, claiming once he had “settled down” that he was no longer into that shit.
In memory of Gary she’d had dumped him if she knew the truth. Looking back, all of the supplements he would jack himself up with should have been a dead giveaway. Lo and behold she had it on good word on a number of occasions that Ray had in fact returned to the scene and was now preying on young girls.
A roofie for her, a Viagra for him – she shuddered to think the man he might become!
By comparison Lee was a character but the fact that she was the object of his affections, the subject of his softer side, and that he was innocent and good at heart, she could rest assured that he was generally not the type to go off the rails, providing that he had a little guidance where it mattered.
Nostalgically, and almost quite sadly, Stevie was again reminded of Gary – his real dad – when she saw how he handled himself at the gig; though Stevie had done well to make sure that Gary’s fatal flaws would never be handed down.
He was bursting with personality, though he was yet to mature to physical distinction. For now he was timeless, just like Gary. A couple of rockers had too easily mistaken Stevie for his girlfriend. All the more thrilled she played along, following his lead.
‘Where did you two meet?’ asked a heavily eye-shadowed plump woman with stark purple lipstick and similarly cartoonish tattoos.
‘The hospital,’ Lee lied. But it wasn’t a lie, was it? He had been born in a hospital after all. The plump tattooed goth found him hilarious. ‘It’s a long story,’ he dismissed, hoping not to have to go deeper down that rabbit hole.
‘Matt and I met on a swinger site,’ she replied a little too easily. Her boyfriend, an equally rotund man but masked with a black beard and long hair, looked Stevie up and down. She was suddenly aware of what this might turn into.
Gradually they moved away and looked for a good spot to watch the band from. And arm in arm he and his mother drank, head-banged, and raved, to many a classic. For a tribute band it was a good turnout. It really felt like the real thing.
But whereas all the lads Lee’s age were posing to the softer likes of Safe Home, I Am The Law was when Stevie and Lee lost their shit and cleared the kids out of the way to soak up the mayhem on stage.
Faithful to the sentiment of the music and the bygone age, there was no going home dry and clean. Aside from the sweat and the dust and the smoke, Stevie had spilled her drink and right between her tits. She would spend the rest of the gig with her leather boots sticking to the floor where she stood.
But as that soaking had occurred, Lee stood rooted to the spot, his eyes hopelessly feasting on her soaking wet tits. Sweet Jesus how her plentiful previews glistened, like two oversized apples bobbing in a bowl of water on Halloween.
In good humour she had shrugged and attempted to shake off the excess by manically shaking her torso from side to side, almost completely freeing those huge orbs from their tight confines. After midnight and on the ride home she didn’t fail to mention how her tits had gone all sticky.
‘That was amazing but my ears are battered,’ Stevie reminisced as they closed the door behind, grateful to bask in the warmth of the family home. She was still so full of energy, though, revitalised by her social experience, and the night really wasn’t so late.
Taking off her leather jacket, Stevie hung it up on the rack by the vestibule door, turned to look where her son had gone, and followed him into the kitchen. There Lee stood filling the kettle. When he set it down to boil, he turned to face his mother with a tired but grateful smile for the fact that she seemed so happy.
Stevie wound her neck in with a grin and hugged him close. Expecting a brief but tight hug, he was surprised by how gentle and lingering it was. His hands wandered down her sides before his fingers reached inward across her back, feeling their way into the muscled ridge where rib met spine, and there he squeezed her before rubbing her back.
And then when he expected that she would kiss his cheek and finally let go, Stevie surprised him again by uttering a low hum of satisfaction before planting one softly on his lips.
‘I love you,’ she declared. ‘Thank you for a great night and for making a lady happy.’
She smiled a while, smoothing the creases of his t-shirt at his shoulders, not wanting the distance to grow. A broad smile eventually crested the expanse of his strong jaw. ‘I’m gonna get high…’
‘Do it,’ Stevie encouraged. Who was she to stop him enjoying himself. He’d sleep soundly.
‘Join me!’
Though it wasn’t a question, it was an attractive offer. ‘It’s been ages,’ she said and then quickly relented. ‘Okay, just let me go wash the stickiness off my boobs and put something loose on.’
She was aware of the effect her words had, talking about her boobs. Lee was no longer embarrassed by her pneumatic chest being on display, or by his mother enjoying them in the absence of a good man’s hands.
‘Take a photo,’ she teased, sticking her tongue out as she headed for the door.
‘You take a photo,’ he brushed her off easily, or so he thought. ‘You’re the one who can’t stop playing with them!’
She paused. No, it wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Well nobody else will…’
‘They would if you gave them half a chance,’ Lee laughed.
‘Jealous?’ Stevie harped with a cheeky little wink.
To that Lee arched one eyebrow and snorted. ‘You wish!’
‘Nah, you wish,’ she teased.
‘Who wouldn’t?’
This was escalating fast. Looking down at herself, she thrust her chest out a little and looked back to her son, who was sticking firmly by his guns. ‘You can come and soap them up for me if you have to pretend so hard that you don’t look at them at every opportunity…’
That word picture might have been a bit too much in the moment. But Lee was sure he’d appreciate it later, when he was alone in bed.
‘Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?’ he retorted, feeling his cheeks burn. It was then that Stevie cackled in her triumph, taking off for the bathroom. By the time she got there, she too was blushing hard. Maybe she had pushed that a little too far.
On second thoughts, nonsense – her man had a sense of humour. He could take a little raunch from his mum!