A Reluctant Corruption Ch. 03

"You want to put my penis in timeout?"

"Hey, it'll be hard for me too. We can handle 48 hours though. And it'll be worth it," she defends.

"I don't want to torture myself," I resign.

My mother crosses her arms in dismay before something registers in her brain. She blurts out, "I still have my wedding dress."

"What?"

She expounds. "If you don't cum for two days I will literally let you fuck me in the dress I wore at the church I married your father in."

"Jesus." I swallow.

She laughs. "He'll understand. After all, he had a thing for girls who shared his mom's name."

The doorbell rings, and my mother leaves to pay for the delivery.

"Ugh." I stare down at my boxers.

'Sorry buddy.'

***********************

Thursday

I don't know if it's the garbled gurgling or the amazing sensation around my genitals that spikes me back to consciousness. Plump lips, flared around the hood of my penis head, suckle and slurp the skin so gently that I almost cum immediately. Her tongue glides over the pores of my cock with an oral dexterity that is impossible to teach. A bit of saliva remains connected to her lip as she pulls away and stares at the pillar of meat snared in her hand. Her hankering for cock has evidently not diminished, yet she waits for me to speak.

"Moomm," I splutter.

'Am I even awake?'

She's in another new outfit from her shopping spree; a satin negligee top, the same dramatic shade as her ruby lipstick, and a pair of white, thigh high stockings. Her hair is drawn back into a ponytail, displaying her lovely visage.

"Do you like it? Is it too tacky?" She tugs at the stockings.

"Wha-What happened to no sex for 48 hours?" I croak.

"As long as you don't cum we should be fine," she says.

"I can't prom..." I respond.

Her free hand moves quickly, stacking onto the other and gripping my dick like a baseball bat. She slowly works both hands up and down my shaft.

I shudder.

'Ok this isn't that bad.'

"You good?" She checks.

I nod.

"Good." She accelerates her strokes.

I let out a groan.

"It's okay," she winks and kisses my pee hole.

"Oops." My penis twitches threateningly. "Sorry."

Her apology doesn't mean much. She continues trying to mold my turgid piece of flesh like it's made of clay. I strain my neck and try keeping my breaths even.

It doesn't help. I center my attention to the floor. There is an empty whipped cream can that stokes the cache of memories created from yesterday's circus.

'I can't hold it. Fuck it, I'm just gonna cum.'

The doorbell rings and we both bolt upright.

'Dad?'

"Shit, what are they doing here so early?" My mother lets go of my cock and whirls around.

'Oh. False alarm.'

"What time is it?" I look to the dresser clock. It's 8:22 AM.

"Oh my god, look what I'm wearing... And I haven't even changed the sheets or picked up this sty," My mother freaks out.

"I can just tell them to screw off," I propose, grabbing a pair of discarded jeans from the floor.

"No! They were the only service I could find with an opening for today. Just... Give me a minute." She tosses me one of my wrinkled t-shirts and then pushes me toward the bedroom door.

"What am I supposed to do?" I lobby.

"Distract them for a few minutes," she replies, closing the door abruptly.

The doorbell rings again. I trudge down the hallway. Seeing my mother flustered in such sexy apparel has not helped to kill my boner. I tuck it under my waistband, so it doesn't stick out as much.

'It's a good thing she only kissed your dick and not your face with that lipstick.'

***********************

It takes 15 minutes for my mother to emerge from her room. The cleaning lady doesn't mind starting at the other end of the house. She is older than I expected, probably late 50s, with graying hair, and a sunny attitude. I manage to locate and remove any dirty clothes before she unloads her cleaning supplies.

"Thank you so much, this week has just been so hectic. I'll warn you that the master bedroom is a bit messy. It was my husband and my anniversary the other week and... My son just finished high school, so things have been busy," my mother rattles off an explanation. She keeps her hands in the back pockets of her blue jeans while gabbing innocently with the maid. Her modest black shirt hides the black diamond necklace I've gotten so used to seeing suspended above her mammaries. She's kept her hair in a ponytail, but the rest of her slutty costume and makeup is gone, for now.

'She's still super hot.'

I try not to stare at her ass, but mentally I envision yanking down my pants, bending her over the sofa and pounding my thick cock in and out of her magnificent pussy and dispensing the six-pack of cum from my blue balls.

'Why did she have to wake me up like that?'

I volunteer to go pick up some breakfast. When I get back, my mother is in the guest bedroom, one of the few areas the maid has finished cleaning. She glances at me with a coquettish grin.

"Where is she?" She whispers.

I look outside the doorway.

"My room, I think. Why are you whispering?"

"Close the door," she instructs.

I drop the bag of croissants on a chair and shut the door.

"Your father called to confirm that he'll be getting in tomorrow evening," her tone is earnest.

I run my hand through my hair. "Wow."

'Shits about to get serious.'

"I told him to take a cab home, that you had plans," she says.

I nod. "I'll head out by 6."

She pats the space next to where she's sitting on the fold out bed, gesturing me over. Her posture is rigid and resigned. We sit in silence for several minutes.

'This is obviously hard for her, don't be an asshole!'

I move my hand to her back and rub between her shoulders.

'Say something!'

"This isn't your fault, it's mine. That fucking necklace..."

"Shut up," she brushes me off.

"Seriously, had I known... had I known..." I can't bring myself to say it. As fucked up as it is, I love my mother, like in every possible context of the word. This summer has shown me who she really is, and it's time to stop pretending that I'm not addicted to her, that we could end it and things would be okay. We both know that divorcing my father is only the first step in a string of life changing decisions that we will have to make to protect our forbidden relationship, but there is no alternative.

"I didn't mean to do this to you..." I continue.

"Jake Shut Up!" She proclaims. "You didn't do this. We did this. And I don't regret it. The thought of going back to who I was... Miserable and spiteful..." She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her. Her face tilts up and I kiss her lips. We lock eyes as our foreheads touch and her fingers run through my hair.

"You need a haircut," she says, exhaling hot breathe over my face. My hands sneak from the small of her back to the back waistline of her jeans. She scoots onto my lap. My fingers delve under the denim barrier. Groping her naked ass cheeks, she rotates her hips over my crotch, dry humping as our mouths connect and tongues touch.

The wet, sweet taste I've gotten to know so well graces my receptors. My hardening phallus toils beneath the twilled cotton barrier of our pants. We make out, kissing each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Her beautiful long, dark lashes flutter as her eyes close. She clenches her buttocks and squirms as my palms enjoy feeling up the perky eye-magnet.

"If you keep doing that I'm going to jizz in my jeans," I warn.

She stops wiggling.

After a few more minutes of kissing and heavy petting, we hear movement in the room next to us.

"Let's have breakfast," my mother suggests. She wipes her lips and straightens her shirt.

***********************

Despite the early start, it takes the maid nearly 6 hours to clean the whole house. I spend most the time crashing on the guest bed.

'Oh fuck!'

The pressure is painful. I twist to my side and behold the bulge in my jeans. I can feel its impatience brewing.

'It's only going to get worse the longer I wait.'

I pace around the room, checking my phone and ignoring the dark thoughts raging in my hormone riddled mind. The tightness in my pants eventually slackens enabling me to leave the room. I follow the sound of voices from the hallway. As I turn the corner, I see my mother writing out a check and thanking the maids for doing such a fine job. The older woman notices me, stiffens, and looks away.

'Weird.'

My mother tears out the check and hands it to the woman.

"Do you think you'll be needing our services again?" The gray-haired cleaning lady inquires.

"There's a good chance we might," my mother answers politely.

The maid lowers her voice, so I can barely distinguish what she's saying.

"I've seen it all, and I can be very discreet." Her wrinkly hand slips into her pocket.

"I'm sorry?" My mother flashes her disarming smile.

"No need to be sorry, darling." The maid withdraws something from the pocket and displays it to my mother. "The lord is not so fickle as to judge us for our every little indiscretion."

My mother opens her mouth to respond, but falters to complete a thought. She takes the object from the maid's open palm sheepishly.

"Well then, I hope you and your son have a wonderful rest of the day," she states, briskly picking up her last bag of cleaning supplies.

As the front door closes I walk up to my mother who still hasn't moved.

"What is it?" I ask, looking down at her closed hand.

She unclasps her fingers.

'Oh.'

"I must have missed it under all the clutter." My mother discloses. She slips the wedding ring back on but seems perturbed with herself.

"It's fine, nothing bad happened. That lady even seemed cool with it."

"I'm not worried about her. I just wouldn't want your father to find out that I haven't been wearing it. If he doesn't trust me when I ask for the divorce, he'll have the option to drag it out," she turns away.

"Even if he did, I'm positive you could convince a judge to see things your way," I contend.

"And why is that?" My mother smirks as my arms slide around her from behind.

"Because you're too fucking hot to say no to," I kiss the top of her head, then her ear, then her neck...

***********************

Friday

I'm back in my own bed. Thus, marking the first night since taking my mother that we aren't sleeping together. It's for the best, though. Her presence alone is a walking syringe of heroin to my drug addled mind. Being around her is too much. Even barricaded in my teenage chambers, one of the few places unsullied by our consanguine taboo, my penis stands in full rebellion. It's 1 AM, and my internal body clock only acts to remind me that I haven't cum in over twenty-four hours.

I toss and turn, incapable of rolling over with the pulsing sycamore tree that tents my sheets. When I manage to close my eyes, my dreams tease a stream of short, unfulfilling moments. In one, I'm standing in the doorway of her bathroom as she gets ready for a night out. She tarts herself, accentuating her eyes with a little shadow, and smacking her pink, succulent lips in the mirror. She's wearing a bluish grey halter top with an open back.

"Do you think this is too much?" She posits and does a pirouette in front of the mirror.

One of her spaghetti straps slides down her shoulder, exposing a significant wedge of chest. She adjusts the plunging neckline, but her necklace catches on the thin string. I reach to touch the inviting diamond, but she steps back, unfurling her hair and shaking it out sensuously. Her devious smile fades into fog as the dream ends.

In another episode of unconscious fantasy, I watch as my mother seduces an Italian gate agent into downgrading my father's ticket for his flight home. We board the plane, and she flashes her pearly white smile at the sight of her irritated husband cramped in the middle seat of one of the very last rows. Before he notices us, she's leading me into one of the stalls. I tear into her tight black, "fuck me" cocktail dress, the thin material surrendering easily in my eager fingers. Nothing feels as good as her skin. The soft, perfumed texture of her body makes me manic. She audibly gasps, as my hands slide their way up her thighs, hiking up the ruche hem to discover a matching lace thong. Her legs part as I peal the honey-soaked garment from her forbidden garden. She shudders, gingerly touching the outer folds of her tender female flesh. I unbuckle my pants and pull down my boxers. Her eyes widen at the immense package dangling between my legs.

There's nothing left to say, each of us feels what must happen. Bracing herself with the metal bar, I hoist her toned legs around my waist. My cock prods abusively at the delicate entrance of her pink hole until my mother grabs it by the base and shoves it through the quivering flaps of her gushing gash.

We stare lustfully at one another as I begin pounding away, waves of pleasure flowing through my body. The ding of the seatbelt warning reminds me of my father.

'Her pussy is mine now.'

I increase the pace of my strokes, pumping her so hard that the heels of her sharp, red sling backs smack against the folding door.

Sandwiched together, she begins to thrash and moan until sweat streaks down our faces. My suddenly huge cock forges onward, stretching her fertile pussy to the brink. I rape my mother, grasping her matronly hips and pinning her above the sink.

'Deeper.'

Her eyes role to the back of her skull as I plunge my veiny arm in her well. The muscles in her graceful neck strain visibly at the intrusion. She begins clawing my back with her manicured nails as my nuts ricochet against her taint. I'm encouraged to push her golden ass against the wall for more leverage. The sound of our smacking sexes and the tones of my mother's high pitched feminine whines fill the humid compartment. They soon turn to wails as the tumultuous attack is too much for her weeping pussy. The cacophony stirs me in a heedless barrage of sustained thrusting. I feel myself destroying her cunt. She bucks her hips, rocking and squeezing the evil hammer as it jabs around with godlike fury, putting pressure all over the walls of her pussy. Her head wobbles between her shoulders like a rag doll, throwing her hair everywhere.

'Make her yours.'

I arch my back to propel the last of my massive prick through her bee stung cunt lips, marinating it in the deepest confines of her clenching vagina. A bulge appears at the surface of her concave belly. My mother yelps, her face contorts with pain as I poke her cervix. She flails beneath me, palms sliding up and down my muscled biceps as her nails scrape against my flesh. The ache in my balls signals an impending orgasm of colossal proportions. I bury my face into her cleavage, smelling her perfume and feeling her tits. The necklace burns against my cheek and I'm just about to move it when...

I awake to a painful erection. And though it's not as gigantic as the one I wielded in my dream, it still seems larger than usual.

'That was intense.' 

I succumb to giving my cock a few strokes while checking out the selfie my mother sent. It doesn't help. Somehow, I know I won't feel right until I'm back in the real embrace of her sex.

The day is boring, and the grogginess I'm left with after a night of turbulent slumber leaves me horny and cranky. I don't bother leaving my room till after noon. My phone buzzes routinely with updates about Cady's party, and although it'll be good to get out, I'm not that psyched to go.

Parking in front of the TV, I spend a couple more hours surfing the channels. I stick to watching primarily sports, but there is no taming my desperate libido. When a commercial for some stupid cookware product pops on the screen, and the attractive actress with dirty blonde hair and generous curves begins doling out advice on how she feeds her family, I whimper, pulling on the crotch of my jeans to adjust for my rapidly ripening banana.

Not too much later, I hear the light footsteps of my mother as she strolls up behind the couch, slides her hands down my shoulders and leans in to give me a peck on the cheek. I'm so hypersensitive to any sexual sensation that I tense up, registering not only the soft stickiness of her lips, but the gentle swell of her breast as it skims the back of my neck, the scent of her sharp perfume as it invades my mind, and the glassy nude shimmer of her nails as she squeezes my shoulder playfully.

'Pull her down and make her yours!'

I glance up and she gives me a coquettish grin. The neck of her purple robe hangs open, and I get light headed following the mile-long valley of cleavage sloping between her swaying breasts. She lingers, resting her elbows on the back of the couch, presenting her sexiness until my rigid pecker lurches painfully in my shorts. Her smile widens shamelessly.

"Finally finished washing the bed linen. I swear some of those splotches were never coming off," she informs me.

'Fuck the sheets. I'll plug myself in you so hard that there won't be any jizz to mop up.'

"You okay?" She asks as if unaware of her effect on me.

"Um... Yeah, sorry." I try clearing my thoughts.

She ruffles my hair. "Good. I'm going to get ready for your father soon. You excited for your party?"

I nod, feeling a tinge of annoyance at the mention of her getting ready for some other guy. She picks up on it.

"Veil or no veil?" She nudges.

'Hmmm...'

She giggles, "Actually, I'll make that surprise."

She sashays away, swaying her ass to and fro, and creaming at the thought of her boy's hard cock. As her silky, tan legs turn the corner I gulp.

'Dayum.'

I only see my mother once more before heading out. She's setting the table in preparation of dinner with my father. I flip open a beige folder that's sitting on the countertop.

'She's already signed the divorce.' 

Clad in a preppy dress that shows off her lean and lotioned legs, I feel anxious and uneasy leaving her alone with my father. An interesting side effect to the radical reshaping of my moral psychology over the last few days has been a budding jealousy in my subconscious. I know it's petty, but when looking at my beautiful mother the barbarian in me prompts to claim her before anyone else has the chance.

Misreading my face, she sighs and struts up close to me.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you? Not after everyth..."

"I'm not!" I interrupt.

"Good." Her eyes slit, and she slowly licks her lips. She comes in for a hug, but her arm drops at the last second moving to cup my dick through my pants, while sticking her tongue in my ear.

"My pussy has been throbbing all day. I'm so hot for you and only you." She whispers, then steps away.

I pull her back in, feel her spongy melons flatten against my chest, and kiss her hard on the lips.

"Mghmm," she tries to speak before embracing the kiss. I can taste alcohol on her warm breath.

'I must not be the only one nervous.'

***********************

"Where the fuck have you been?" Reece shouts from across the lacquered porch in front of Cady's driveway.

"What do you mean? I'm super early." I walk the steps of the towering residence. It's no secret that Cady's parents come from money. It's why, when she moved to my high school in sophomore year, she ascended the ladder of popularity quicker than most the preppy girls. Having the reputation for throwing excessively wild parties and splurging on her entourage of friends ended with her being voted prom queen and "most likely to become famous" in the yearbook. Some might think she is the manifestation of a spoiled child obsessed with keeping up her image, but that opinion is usually relegated to students who are not cool enough for an invite.

Reece holds out a drink for me. He's chatting up some girls I've seen around, but never hung out with.

"Jake, right?" Asks a shorter chick. She's cute, with bright eyes, a narrow pretty face, and hair slightly lighter than my mother's rich brunette. My dick expands eagerly.

'Don't compare her to your mom.'

"Yeah. You were all on the dance team, right?" I guess based off the short shorts one of them is wearing with the embroidered school dance team logo.

"And you know Heidi of course," Reece adds, pointing at the redhead.

I choke on my drink. Heidi is one of Rachel's best friends, and not fond of me.

'Awkward.'

She avoids eye contact, crossing both arms over her 36D bust, and sequestering the extremely well-developed eye candy in a reclusive manner. I'd be lying if I said I never thought about her when I dated Rachel. Heidi regularly violated our school's dress code by striding around campus in these thin, cut off shirts that would be a size too small for most incoming freshmen. Most all the teachers that complained were women hilariously enough. They called it, "a distraction". To be fair, they were right. I spent half my Spanish final gawking at her from across the room. She had worn this white shirt and tied it up at the front, so her boobs spilled out and jiggled while she scribbled her answers. When the bell rang, I had to tear my eyes away from her crossed ivory legs and exposed midriff to randomly fill in the remaining bubbles.

"How's Jenny?" Reece continues, never knowing when to shut up.

"What?" I ask clearing my throat.

"I heard a rumor that you and Tekker are a thing now, and she's why you've been MIA." He winks at the shorter girl as if this is hot gossip.

"Dude, no," I catch myself. "You know me, I don't want a girlfriend going into college." Heidi scoffs and briskly brushes past me. Reece shrugs, taking a swig of his own drink.

The night really kicks off when people start packing into Cady's house. Reece leads a rowdy stream of kids through the inside entryway and toward the blaring music. Coordinating within the mesh of teenagers, I toss my cup into a bin and check the time.

'Fuck, it's only been a half hour.'

I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey stranger."

I turn to see Cady. She's wearing a yellow bikini swimsuit. Her long blonde hair is slicked back behind her ears, still wet. She laughs, hugs me, and then pushes me toward a less populated corner.

"Nice outfit," I remark.

She points to her ears. "What?"

'We're too close to one of the speakers.'

"Someone's bzzr..." her words get lost in the synthesized beat. I lean closer.

"Someone's been looking for you," she hollers and points toward the kitchen.

I nod, but waver. If it's who I suspect, this party just got a lot less exciting.

'I really should have called her back.'

Cady shuffles back into the crowd. It takes me a minute to build the courage to search for my ex. It's not like I'm nervous to see her. I broke up with her after all. It's just, if anyone is going to notice something drastic has changed in my life, it will be her.

'I hope she's not too pissed.'

I find myself weaving slowly through the crowd, reciprocating gestures of acknowledgment with past classmates and teammates. I decide to step outside before checking out the kitchen, but fate has other plans.

Rachel, Heidi, and a few other girls huddle around the pool area. On cue, Rachel sees me. Her body language doesn't change. She says something to the other girls before excusing herself and heading my direction. Heidi sneers at me from the distance.

'Bitch.'

Despite getting dumped on graduation, Rachel appears no worse for the wear. She looks sexy as hell in her two-piece black swimsuit. Judging by the prominent cleavage on the thing, and knowing how rigid her father is, I bet she left the house wearing something over it.

"Asshole," she chastises. My eyes snap to her face.

"What's wrong with you? Why didn't you call me back?" She demands.

"I was busy," I respond, "and my phone broke."

Her brows cross like she doesn't believe me.

"Besides. I thought you wanted space," I reason out loud.

She scoffs, and for a moment I wonder if she's going to walk away. Her upper lip twitches, but she doesn't speak.

"Sorry for not calling you back," I apologize. "It was a shitty thing to do."

Her eyes soften a bit, and she looks from me to the ground.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Nothing." Her voice is cold.

"Rache-" I begin.

She stomps her bare foot on the grass. "It doesn't matter! You're obviously fine."

My pocket vibrates, and I pull out my new phone. There's a text from my mother.

'He just got in. Looking forward to later. ;)'

I smile.

"Is that the two-bit slut you've been fucking?" I hear Rachel spout.

I give her a quizzical look.

"Oh, don't even pretend." She spats and lunges at me, grabbing the phone from my hand.

'Shit.'

I reach after her, but she slips back a few paces.

"Rachel it's just my mom." I feel blood rush to my cheeks and the sensation of people staring.

"Give it back," I state as assertively as I can muster. She disregards me, too busy scamming through my phone for incriminating evidence of...

'Oh fuck, the picture.'

The look of abject horror that crosses Rachel's pretty face, a ball of disgust and confusion, as my phone tumbles through her shocked fingers onto the lawn, says it all. She gasps and looks to me lost, as if her mind is glitching and she can't process the incoming data.

'Please don't start crying.'

I rush over, picking up the phone and shoving it into my pants. Rachel is paralyzed, and peeking around I confirm that we are the center of attention.

'Damage control. We have to move.'

I put my arm around her. She shudders at my touch, not wanting to go anywhere with me.

"Let me explain," I whisper while guiding us toward the house.

No one says anything. It's not completely uncommon for exes to start drama in public, but based on what Rachel just saw, and how affected she seems to be by it, it's paramount we move to somewhere more secluded.

Though Cady obviously doesn't mind her house getting trashed. She does restrict the upstairs where her room is. The crowd is thicker now, and reaching the staircase isn't easy, especially when leading a walking zombie.

"No." Rachel finally speaks, albeit in a strangely fainter voice than usual.

"Two minutes. Just give me two minutes and it'll make sense," I lie through my teeth.

'What the fuck can I say in two minutes that will explain why I have a picture of my own mother posing nude on my phone.'

Rachel doesn't protest, but she does shake off my arm before marching upstairs. I catch my reflection in a glass picture frame of Cady's family. My face is pale, my glare frantic, and each step feels like my knees want to give out. We slip into the first room, a study with a large desk and full bookcase.

'Okay. We're alone... Have to say something.'

"Are you alright?" I ask hoping to temper the shock plastered on her face.

"I-I can't believe..." she cuts off.

"You know me Rachel, I'm not some freak." My words do nothing to calm her.

She moves backwards, her hands shaking nervously.

"Okay, this is weird. I get that. But what if I tell you it's just a stupid picture. It's not like-"

"And the text?" She cries with surprising command of the situation.

My eyes widen, and my mouth clamps shut.

'At least it didn't say anything really dirty.'

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She covers her face with her hands.

"Rache, please," I beg. My voice shakes, not sure what exactly she's put together.

She looks at me over the bridge of her fingertips, her eyes welling with tears.

"What did she do to you?"

"It's not really her fault." I reply.

"What?" Rachel expresses. "Jake, you have to believe I didn't want this to happen."

'Huh?'

She starts to ramble, "...I was mad. It was impulsive. I didn't think she was serious." Tears stream down her cheeks.

'What is she on about?'

"This has nothing to do with you," I declare. She goes quiet and looks at me with her red eyes and a serious expression.

"The night you dumped me I left the party, but didn't go directly home. "I wasn't in the mood to be around friends, so I called my aunt to pick me up." She reveals.

'The wacky one who believes in ghosts?'

"Yeah, I know you think she's crazy," Rachel remarks. "She's not a big fan of yours either... Especially after I told her that you were the jerk who ruined my graduation. The whole car ride home she kept repeating that boys like you need to learn there are consequences to your actions. I assumed it was her way of trying to make me feel better."

Rachel sighs, "But there was more to it. The more I told her about the shallow, misogynistic way you viewed our relationship... That you ended things solely for the chance to get your dick wet in the trashy cunts at state...

The more I complained, the more animated she became. She confided that when she was younger she had dated someone similar. That when he ultimately fucked her over, she got back at him using an incantation from one of the mystic books she collects. She volunteered to-"

"To curse me?" I interrupt skeptically.

"She was so adamant, Jake. She guaranteed that the next time I saw you, you wouldn't be the same. And now you're carrying around nudes of your mother on your cell phone!" Rachel squeals.

The couple times I'd met Rachel's aunt she'd come across as a kooky, middle aged cat lady. Not exactly the most intimidating of people.

'Could she have some connection to this? Is she responsible for turning my family incestuous? For the necklace? For the old witch haunting my dreams?'

Rachel takes my silence as confirmation, and that reality sends her spinning.

Fresh droplets descend from the corners of her eyes, which dart around the room hysterically.

"I'm sorry," she recites repeatedly.

She grows dismayed the more the truth sets in, choosing to look away from me as much as possible.

"Rachel..." I begin.

She sweeps past me. "I can't. I'm sorry. I have to go." Her departure leaves me standing alone in the study to process the latest revelation.

'Should I be upset? Should I be scared?'

I reach into my pocket and wipe off some dirt from the face of my phone before turning on the display. The image of my mother on her bed, looking downright wicked, hair tossed to one side, perfectly made up, in nothing but her black slingbacks and necklace. It's hard not to gush over the delicious olive skin tone of her slim, delicate frame, or gawk at her well-rounded breasts and the shadows which embellish their depth.

I zoom in on the engorged pink thimbles rooted sensually atop each. My dick digs into the crotch of my pants. I'm so starved of sex, I almost whip it out right here and now.

'What kind of curse gifts you the best sex of your life?'

The voice in my head, the one echoing morals and calling me and my mother sick had slowly died over the course of this week.

'Rachel's aunt is right. I have changed.' 

After one last soulful look at the picture, I delete it from my phone.

'Can't risk this happening again. Besides, who needs a picture when you can have the real thing.' 

I debate looking for Rachel, but figure that even if I found her I wouldn't have much to say. Instead, I spend the rest of the party socializing until I felt it was safe to slip out and head home.

****************************************************************** 

Night swallows the streets, suppressing the stars in the jet-black sky, and making my journey home all the more exhilarating. The summer air whips up and rustles my hair as my foot tests the accelerator. Mischievous thoughts engulf my mind thanks to the backup of teenage, sex-starved hormones clogging my veins. It's estimated that hundreds of thousands of people start having sex every minute. How many are prey to the same forbidden cravings that have ensnared me and my mother? How many sons are drilling their devotion into the sexy women who raised them? How many mothers are deciding that it's time their big boy becomes a man? How many sons are forcing their fathers from their wives' minds?

I glare through the windshield with the blind determination of a man minutes away from finding the Holy Grail.

'I'm not going to stop fucking her until that dress is so spoiled and unsalvageable we have to throw it out with the rest of her marriage vows.'

****************************************************************** 

"Wumph!"

I shut the car door with too much emphasis.

'Why's Dad's car is still here.'

My phone says 10:15 PM.

'Am I going to walk in on an argument?' 

I linger in front of the garage door, but I don't hear any voices.

"Fuck it," I whisper to myself and ease the door open. It's dark. The lights are off, and all is silent. I sense my way through the hallway and past the unlit kitchen with skills I perfected early on in high school. Pausing at the family room, I make out what I think is a suitcase leaning against the sofa.

'Is he on the couch? Shit. Why didn't he go to a hotel?'

Feeling an inevitable disappointment coming, I slink to my room with shoulders hunched.

Sure enough, there is no one waiting in my room. I kick my shoes off violently toward the empty twin bed.

'The prick ruined my night.'

My cock hurts. It's been over 48 hours and I consider breaking the arrangement in favor of freeing a load from my system.

'I kept up my end of the bargain. I shouldn't have to wait.'

I think about texting my mother but opt instead to fantasize about how horny she must also be, stuck in her room without me. Knowing she's probably going through the same torture lessens my burden. It still takes me a few hours of tossing and turning before I finally get to sleep.

****************************************************************** 

Saturday

I'm in a crummy mood. Last night could have been the best night of my life, but instead my ex thinks I'm cursed, my swollen balls pang with unused reserves, and the one woman who could help me is not the first person I see when stepping into the kitchen.

"Hey Sport!" My father's voice rings out.

'Pretty chipper for a man who's getting a divorce.'

He's sitting at the table with his feet kicked up on another chair.

"Hi," I respond while walking to the cereal cupboard.

"Did you hear the good news?" He asks proudly.

I shake my head.

"Those Italian bastards... It took the whole week to convince them, but they're in. The merger is happening."

"Cool," I state with no conviction.

He launches into the retelling of his trip, so I tune him out.

'I don't care if it means I have to lock him in the bathroom. I'm fucking my mother today.'

"... And how have things been here?" He concludes after five minutes.

'Seriously?'

"Didn't you talk to mom last night?" I ask.

"We didn't get a chance to discuss much before heading to bed," he reveals. The smirk on his face rattles me.

'What happened? Did she get cold feet?' 

"Speak of the devil," my father perks up as my mother struts into kitchen, heels tapping the hard tile. I can't help but smile. Her work skirt seems so modest and bulky. I wonder if she finds the material suffocating compared to the colorful satin and lace garments she modeled all week.

"I was just asking Jake if I'd missed anything while I was gone," my father continues.

My mother shoots a glare of disapproval in my direction before bending to give my father a kiss on his cheek. I flinch at the normal display of affection shared between husbands and wives.

'I don't understand.'

I stare at my mother, hoping for a hint of explanation.

"What?" She snaps, put off that I am looking at her.

"Uhhh, nothing," I say.

She glares angrily at me, and then turns back to my father. I can feel my heart beating faster.

'This has to be an act. It has to be.'

Then I notice something. I blink a few times as chills shoot down my spine. My eyes aren't tricking me.

My father laughs. "Brilliant, isn't it? Honey, show Jake the new necklace I got you. Cost me an arm and a leg.

There, above my mother's beautiful breasts, the absence of the black diamond is evident. A thin new chain snakes around her neck, supporting four white pearls that link just below her collar.

"Where's the other one?" I blurt out desperately.

My father shrugs. I look to my mom, but she ignores me, deciding to study her nails instead. Her expression is painfully familiar. It displays the same bitchy disregard I learned to loathe growing up. She tuts with scornful distaste as my father suggests that some of the merger money can go towards my first year's tuition. Unidentifiable is the person who had used this summer to seduce me. Her lush face and body remain the same, but no love lingers behind those captivating blue eyes, no warmth for what we have shared. I feel like I've been hit by a bus. As if I've just been slapped into a reality where the last few weeks never happened. I want to cover my eyes and wake up, but I'm grounded by a realization.

'You're going to have to fight for her.' The witch had said during my dream.

'Is this what she meant? Was this what she was trying to show me?' 

The irony is not lost on me. For two years, college has beckoned me with promises of random hookups, awesome parties, and the understanding that I would finally be rid of my parents. I hated my mother, the chronic obstacle to my enjoyment of life, and wouldn't have missed a thing about her. But that was then.

'How do I fix this?' 

I stand dumbfounded, watching incredulously as my father leans back on his chair.

"Ah," he sighs contentedly, "it's good to be home."