ONE WEEK LATER…
Tim dragged himself through the front door, the darkened evening behind him, and threw his suitcase onto the floor. The carpet there was mangled and balding where he had dropped his case every weekday evening since they last changed it. And yet he regarded it as his wife’s problem, meeting it with the same old disdain as everything else, before flipping off his shoes and ragging the tie from around his neck!
Work was getting worse. His performance, specifically, was getting worse, and with that came humility, which he was not known for. And so he was doing more overtime – actual work overtime – not because he was fucking another secretary, but to cover up his own mistakes.
When he marched, sore-footed, into the kitchen, he could barely mask his outrage for the fact that his wife and son were sitting before used plates, without even stopping to acknowledging his presence. It was as if time had moved on without him.
‘Already eaten have you?’ he remarked. ‘Is mine ready?’
Jason craned his head to measure the rattiness in his dad’s expression against that which was in his voice, then looked away to stifle a sigh. Sara sat back, raised her eyebrows into a question – excuse me for breathing? – and pointed across the way.
‘It’s in the oven. Probably ruined since you didn’t call to tell me you were staying late.’
Feel the burn you horrid bastard, Jason thought to himself. Meanwhile Tim ignored his mother, fixed himself a drink and sat down at the head of the table. ‘How’s work then, son,’ he strained.
‘Work’s going very well,’ Jason offered.
‘Jason treated us tonight. We had a pork roast with all of the trimmings and a bottle of chilled wine,’ Sara explained proudly. When she went to get up, Jason insisted that she stay seated and went to fetch the dog’s dinner instead.
With a damp towel he set the hot plate down in front of his father and remarked, ‘here, don’t burn yourself,’ which left Tim both angry and speechless; right before he went to turn the plate around in his needless inspection, and then burned himself.
‘Fuck’s sake, it’s hot!’ he shouted, shaking his fingers madly before lifting a trembling whiskey glass to his lips. Tim had a problem. Tim had that problem for a long time. But now it was clearly evident that Tim was no longer in control of that problem. That problem, Tim’s drinking, was controlling him now.
It was midnight before he finally drank himself unconscious. Jason was at least forgiving enough to hoist him up and drag him into his parents’ bedroom where he would starfish the night away and no doubt awaken ready to ruin his job another day.
He found mom in the garage when he came back down, and didn’t know what to expect from her, or if she was expecting anything of him.
‘What I’ve been doing with you here,’ she said cautiously, ‘I’ve not just being doing it for you, have I?’ she asked. ‘I’ve been doing it for myself. I’m probably a very bad mother. I probably shouldn’t be doing this at all.’
‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Jason assured carefully at a distance.
‘But I want to,’ she said. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He stifled a laugh, partly in disbelief. She knew damn well he was into it probably more than she was. Even if they did have to sneak around, so long as it gave him his mother, and brought her closer, then he was happy to say the least.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said and laughed again, this time hopelessly. ‘Mom, I love you, and whatever you need, I’m here for you. But shall we clean up that living room before we say anything else?’
‘I can do that tomorrow morning,’ she insisted. ‘Is there something else you’d rather do; with me, right now?’
And there it was again, that look in her eyes like an on switch had been flipped and the current was surging. It made his heart flutter and immediately his mouth watered in anticipation. He swallowed and asked what she had in mind.
‘If you could do anything right now,’ Sara pushed back. ‘With your mom, and nobody else would know. I’m feeling bold. Tell me!’
A thousand images flashed before Jason’s mind all at once, most of them more graphic than words could describe in the heat of the moment. There was what his mind wanted, what his heart wanted, and then what he wanted for his mom more than anything. And his mom, more than anything, needed to feel loved.
‘I love all the kissing we’ve been doing,’ he said.
‘But we’ve already done plenty kisses and we always will,’ she countered.
‘But I’d really love to make out with you.’
‘Wow…’
‘Yeah…’
‘So,’ she thought hard, ‘not like a mother/son kiss, but a lovers’ kiss? You’d want to do that with your mother?’
‘Only because my mother is you,’ Jason replied. Sara’s smile was gone, replaced by something darker and wanton, but for the gleam in her eyes. She too swallowed hard and then brushed her fingertips over her lips, not once breaking eye contact with the young man in front of her.
‘Well what are you waiting for?’ she begged.
‘And in my bed,’ Jason added.
‘Really,’ Sara responded in a sultry manner.
‘I’m not letting you sleep on the couch tonight, mom,’ he said.
‘On one condition, then,’ she concluded. And she didn’t have to think long on what that condition would be.
12
Jason did as he was told. It wasn’t so much a condition as it was a stipulation and one that left his mind reeling with wonder, because it begged the question whether the trust between them was at its strongest or whether it had flown out through the window.
His bedroom was dark now, all but for the small bedside lamp, and he lay comfortably in his king size bed, beneath the sheets, with his eyes closed as instructed. Sara’s feet barely made a sound as she padded barefoot across the floor towards him, and then the mattress depressed and she was in the bed right next to him, bare skin on skin.
The moment he felt her warm, smooth flesh touch up against his, Jason began to rise to the occasion and as he opened his eyes, there she was gazing into his eyes with wondrous adoration and nervous excitement.
‘Okay lover-boy,’ she whispered and joined him in an embrace of soft bodies and entwining limbs, and their mouths opened to couple like never before. Instantly their tongues lapped over one another, swirled and danced and wet lips pursed and smacked deliciously. Then she pulled away breathlessly and giggled quietly before returning for more.
‘My god this feels amazing,’ Sara panted in between long, exquisite smooches. She could have instantly given herself to him there and then if he weren’t her own. But however things had escalated to this point between them, it felt right; it felt so beautifully necessary and her own son made her feel like the most loved woman on earth.
They made out, or were they making love now – caressing and kissing, pulling one another into each other – for what seemed the whole night. It felt heavenly to feel him touching her breasts the way he did, with strong masterful hands, and to caress her bottom as her thigh brushed across his hip. Once or twice he put his hand lightly over her hot hairy pussy. She had to come to her senses and fight the urge to let him slip in, to remove his hand and to place it back on her butt or her boobs.
Only an hour passed before she decided something needed to be done about the impossible hardness that had gone from rubbing hotly at her lower belly to sliding occasionally up against a place he had never been since the day of his birth. Otherwise he might keep reaching down to play with her sex.
She asked if she could touch it. He told her that she could, so long as he could touch her. That wasn’t part of the condition, she told him, but she wanted to relieve the frustration she was causing him.
‘That has to be mutual though, mom,’ he insisted.
‘That would turn into sex, Jason. Do you really think we should go there?’
He didn’t dare say what he felt then because he wanted her to be in control and for her to tell him that she wanted to. ‘I should be so lucky,’ he said and nuzzled into her.
Sara moved him onto his back and manoeuvred onto her side and into a half-sitting position, eyeing up the tent pole hidden beneath the sheets at his waist level. This was something that didn’t happen every day, she thought, or ever.
She leaned over him, getting in close, until her right breast was directly over his face and told him to suck on it and to just enjoy himself. Bit by bit, she used her left foot to drag the sheet down until she was met with the wonderful sight of his standing glory. And her first thought was immediately how deliciously easy it would slide deep into her soaking pussy at that point.
Instead she reached down and wrapped her hand around him, gently easing down the foreskin to reveal all and told him how beautiful he was. And he was a good two inches longer than her entire foot. She might even need a little something wet to help the gliding motion of her hand all the way up and down, because she was going to tease him for as long as she could and test her boy’s endurance.
Not only could Jason last. She had never seen so much come spurt out of such a big cock in her life. The ultimate sinful seed, in the grand erogenous zone of her mind, had been sown. And she slept with him that night like she hadn’t in years!
13
It all came to a head the next day. God only knew how Tim managed to come around from his booze induced coma on time, or thankfully how Sara managed to wake up next to her son after barely more than two hours’ sleep. They met on the landing, like cowboys at high noon, and Sara was at least dressed to some degree.
The look in Tim’s eyes was that of a wounded, shameful animal, like a dog that had received the belt of its owner. But in his world, he was the owner of everything. ‘What,’ he implored miserably as she stood there wondering what he might do. She didn’t answer him, at least with anything other than a pitiful look.
‘Come on, woman,’ he snapped. ‘What’s your game?’
‘Just once I’d like to deserve the way you speak to me, you pathetic fucking creature,’ she spat.