A Reluctant Corruption

"Brrzzzzzzz... Brrrzzzzzzz... Brrrrzzzzz...."

I yawn. 

'You've got to be fucking kidding, first day out of high school and someone's calling at 8 in the morning?' 

My hand falls to the floor and fumbles around for my phone. 

My eyes adjust to the screen as I read the caller ID.

'ugh'

I answer it. 

"What?" I say groggily, skipping formalities. 

There's a pause.

"I need to ask you a favor." 

I wince and jerk the phone away from my ear. 

'How shitfaced did I get at Cady's party last night?' 

"Jake? Did you hear me?" 

"Can it wait till later in the day, Dad?" I ask. 

He ignores the question.

"You know that tomorrow is your mothers' and my anniversary. Well, I'm stuck at work, so I need you to pick up her present for me."

"I don't wa-" I begin to argue, but a sudden surge of stomach pain shuts me up. 

My dad continues, "Listen, I know things haven't been great at home, but if you do this for me I'll talk to your mother about letting you stay a few more weeks."

'... or you could just let me stay till the end of summer like most college parents do. Asshole.'

I begin to feel nauseous. 

"Fine... whatever." I respond. 

He sighs in relief. 

'Probably expected more of a fight.' 

"Great. Thanks Champ. The gift is at a jewelry store. I think it closes at one. I'll text you the address. Just give them your name because everything's been paid for."

I end the call. 

'So much for sleeping in.'

My shirt smells of spilled beer and sweat. Usually I just sleep in my boxers but, from what I can remember, I basically collapsed after getting a ride home last night. 

I groan, knowing that I should take a shower but craving more sleep. My head throbs as I sit up and rub my hands over my face. 'That was one hell of a graduation.'

I take a minute, but eventually force myself to stand and begin the search for a clean set of clothes. 

It's not easy. My room is a mess. The last few weeks' distractions; finals, parties, and graduation, really didn't leave me with time to stay organized. Papers clutter the floor, clothes are scattered here and there, I can't even see my computer under all the junk on my desk. 

'Well, at least I don't need to pack today.'

My phone buzzes. It's the address to the jewelry place.

'Better not be far.'

I manage to collect some passably fresh looking clothes from the floor of my closet. 

I have to shield my eyes from the bright windows when I emerge from my room and enter the hall. The tile feels cold against my bare feet. I trudge slowly to my parent's door and walk in without knocking. It's Friday, so both my mother and father should be at work, and that leaves their giant shower open for use. Entering their room, it smells lightly of one of my mother's perfumes, a scent I've learned to avoid. I head straight into the master bathroom. 

While waiting for the shower to heat up I start to strip. I smirk when I catch myself in the reflection of the mirror. I'm 6 feet tall with an athletic build thanks to two years of varsity baseball. I look exhausted though. Disheveled dark brown hair hangs above my half-shut eyes, it's a look I've gotten used to waking to.

Last night's party was supposed to be the last big blow out. I'd say it met expectations. Cady's parents were out of town and there were enough people with fake ID's that we ended up with more booze than chasers. 

I watch my image blur as the humid air fogs up the mirror.

It would have been an awesome night if it hadn't fallen on the same day that I broke up with my girlfriend Rachel. I ended things right before the party.

She didn't take it well, but I don't really regret it. I just couldn't handle any more lengthy conversations about "our future" together. Not when I have no interest in starting college tied down in a committed relationship. I want to be able to play the field and meet new people. Rachel is hot, but against all the girls I'm bound to see next year, she won't hold a candle. I know I'm biased against the good of High School relationships. I resent them. My parents were high school sweethearts and they ended up as pricks. 

I step in the shower.

They weren't always so bad. When I was a kid, I had a decent rapport with them. We would go on vacations and do the things classic families do. That changed early in my teenage years. 

My social life transformed when I hit High School. Suddenly, I was always busy and that meant I had less time for family. When I am at home though, I usually just hang in my room.

I close my eyes; the splashing water mellows the aching pain in my head. It wasn't really my absence that caused the family relationship to sour. After my father lost his job a few years ago, he decided to invest everything in a startup travel agency, that's when my mother snapped. I mean her entire personality changed. I think she just stopped respecting everyone, especially my father. It was clear he couldn't carry the business on his own, so she was forced into work to help him run the new company. I'd feel bad for her had she not turned into a complete bitch. 

Saying she's controlling and manipulative is putting it lightly. Most people would never realize it though. Outwardly, she looks happy and says all the right things. All she has to do is flash my father or any stranger a smile and they become too distracted by her looks to realize that she is just using them. 

Obviously, that doesn't work on me, and I think that's why she's persuaded my father to kick me out. 

It didn't take a lot to convince my father. She's been trash talking me for a while. Blaming me for every problem. Subliminally influencing him by repeatedly referring to me as "arrogant" or "spoiled". I avoid her as much as I can but if she's around any time I step out of line, she doesn't hesitate to use it against me. 

I use a towel to dry my hair. I feel better and it shows. I put on my clothes and grab the dirty ones off the ground. 

'And yet my job today is to pick up her gift.'

I shake my head and walk out of the bathroom, throwing last nights' clothes into the washer as I pass the laundry room. 

Back in my room, I surf the internet until I get bored. 

'I should get a few more hours of sleep.'

I set the alarm on my phone to 11:30 AM and drift off. 

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

Some time later 

'Fuck.... fuck fuck fuck... fucking stupid alarm.' 

Lesson 1. Never fall asleep on your phone. 

By the time I set the jewelers address into my car's GPS it's already 12:40pm. 

"You will arrive at your destination in 30 minutes," comes an automated chipper voice from the speakers. 

'Seriously!?'

I shift into drive.

My fingers strum the steering wheel while I try not to panic.

'Ugh, let them be open, please let them be open.'

I turn on the radio. It doesn't help. My headache is starting to come back. 

'How long is this light??'

By 1:00pm, I'm still a few minutes out.

I try searching the store number on my phone. I don't know the name though; I just have the address. 

As I finally pull up to the front of the store I can tell by the dimmed lights that I'm too late. Sure enough, when I get out and walk to the window I see the "CLOSED" sign next to their posted hours. 

'Maybe I will need to pack today.' 

There's no doubt this will come back and bite me. 

'Just another thing my mother can use against me. She'll probably convince him I intentionally screwed up their anniversary out of spite.'

I pace for a minute.

'Whatever the case, I still need to let him know.'

I take out my phone and dial his cell. It's off. 

I try again. Same thing. 

I'm driving home. 

'I should have never agreed to pick that stupid gift up.'

After a few minutes of driving, I park at the side of some road to think. 

'I can't go home empty handed.'

My hand goes through my hair. 

'I need a good placeholder gift. Dad would probably understand and I'd get credit for trying at least. Plus, that way he can eventually take credit for two gifts and my mother would never know.'

I smile to myself, 'that could actually work.'

I scroll down my phone, searching for good last-minute gifts. Everything in my price range is tacky and my mother would hate it. 

I do a new search. "Cheap authentic looking jewelry." I chuckle, thinking about my mother's reaction if she found out one of her jewelry pieces was fake. 

The only result that sounds promising is a place called Zygri's (trinkets, tokens, and baubles). 

I start the car. 

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

It takes me a while to find Zygri's. It's located in a secluded corner of an old deserted shopping complex. I park right in front, since there are no other cars in the entire lot. All the surrounding shops appear to have gone out of business a long time ago. The emptiness is unnerving. 

'Cue the tumbleweed.' 

A bell chimes as I enter the shop. I'm greeted by a musty scent. One reminiscent of an old bookstore. The lights are dimmed and it takes my eyes a second to adjust. 

When they do I'm surprised at how cramped it is. 

I make my way through many racks and shelves. Each seems to be stacked or overflowing with trinkets and souvenirs from touristy places. 

'Looks like a dollar store that just gave up.'

I pick up a post card from a rack standing next to me. It looks old, even the picture is faded. I turn it over. It's been filled out with a postage mark dated 1978. "Ok then."

I put it down.

Most the items seem pretty weathered. Some of the higher shelf knickknacks have a healthy coat of dust on them. 

'Maybe they keep the good stuff in the back?'

Moving slowly through the maze of aisles, I eventually see an older lady sitting behind a counter in the back. The register on the counter looks antique. 

'I hope they take debit.'

Her glasses face down at the newspaper she's holding and, I assume, reading. As I make my way to her, the products become less and less traditional. On one shelf sits a rusty wrench. I look down to examine it. 

'The fuck?'

It has a price tag of $1,500. 

'Ha, must be a gag.'

A little further down the aisle is a shelf holding unmarked vases of colored liquids. 

'Who buys this stuff?'

I'm about to reach the register lady when my attention is drawn to a case a few feet to my left. 

'Wow..'

Bracelets, earrings, necklaces, rings, of all shapes and sizes glitter alluringly. 

'Now we're talking.'

My eyes settle on a set of small silver earrings. Each one looks to have a tiny pearl engraving. 

They look nice, attractive enough for an anniversary gift, small enough to evade suspicion of being fake. I don't know if they could trick my mother, but possibly. 

"Find something you like?" 

I look toward the register where the question came from. She looks to be in her 60s, gray hair held back by a turquoise headband. She's wearing a tie dye robe. She removes her reading glasses and waits for my reply. 

"Umm, yeah, I'm actually looking for a gift for my mother." I say truthfully. 

"Oh how sweet... is it her birthday?" she asks politely, studying me with her eyes. 

She reminds me of those grandmas in movies. Kind and helpful. 

"Uh huh," I answer, not wanting to delve into a long conversation.

"Well those would look good on anyone." She smiles genuinely and stands up, pulling some keys out of her pocket and walking toward the case. 

"That's good, since she's pretty picky." I reply. 

The year my dad lost his job and money was tight, he still got my mother a nice pair of shoes. She took one look at them and bought herself a higher end pair the next day. 

The old lady laughs. 

"Mothers are allowed to be picky when it comes to jewelry, they are the ones who are going to have to wear it after all." 

I want to roll my eyes. 

She opens the case and I point to the earrings I was looking at. 

"Does your mother have a lot of jewelry?" She asks. 

"She has some...." I trail off, not knowing what else to say. 

She smiles again and hands the earrings over for me to inspect. 

I turn them in my hand. 

'No blemishes or scuffs. 

They look real enough to me.'

I look at the older lady. She's patiently waiting. 

I think about how to ask my next question. 

'Screw it.'

"It's kind of important that she doesn't realize these are fake. Is there anything I'm not seeing that would give it away?" 

The lady's smile disappears. 

Her expression changes to one of a quizzical nature. 

Her gray eyes peer at me and then back at the earrings. 

"Ah, I'm sorry it wasn't more clear," she finally says apprehensively, "all these pieces you see are, in fact, real." 

'Bullshit. Why would anyone be selling this stuff in a second hand store?'

"I see." I respond, unable to hide the skepticism from my voice. "And how much are you selling these particular earrings for?"

Her eyes travel back to the case. "They cost 1,600 dollars," she states.

I laugh. 

"Are you serious?" I ask bewildered. 

"Completely." She responds, untroubled by my disbelief.

"Well, do you have anything inexpensive that I can get her?" I retort, pointing to the case. 

She cocks her head and furrows her brow. Her gray eyes look at me in a stern fashion as if she's coming to some realization. 

"Am I to understand that you are trying to trick your own mother on her birthday with fake jewelry?"

'??' 

"No." I reply, perturbed at the judgment in her tone. 

She dismisses my denial. "Do you not care about her enough to get her a legitimate gift? After all she's done for you, raising you... taking care of you?"

I start to speak. "She doesn't really deserve... I don't think you understand..." 

She interrupts.

"I can understand a boy trying to pull a fast one on a loved one. Trying to cheat his way into good graces. I just hope you can live with yourself." 

That hit a nerve. 

'Who does this lady think she is?'

"Look lady, you don't know anything about my life, so why don't you just get back to your little trinkets and mind your own business." I turn to leave. 

"She gave you your life, and now your plan is to disrespect her." She spats at me. 

I turn back around, dumbfounded. I want to leave, but something is holding me back. Maybe it's just pent-up anger. 

'Why is this woman getting so upset? Is she this desperate for company? That she would rather yell at some stranger than read her newspaper?'

She stares me down with her gray eyes. 

"You want the truth?" I say loudly. "My mom's a bitch alright? She blames me for things I never do, convinces my father I'm a freeloading brat, and the only thing she really cares about is herself. Hell, she and I can't even stand to be in the same room together, I don't know what you want to hear but if you think I'm horrible you should get a load of her!" 

I immediately feel embarrassed at how escalated and personal this conversation has become. I think about apologizing for yelling. 

My words seem to have impacted her though. Her face has softened and she gives me a look of pity. 

"Your relationship is fractured; it's imperative that you both mend it."

Her voice is back to the kind tone from before. 

'Yeah, I'll get right on that...'

I begin to turn back toward the door, hoping to escape this awkward exchange. 

"Wait," she says quickly and holds up a finger. I reluctantly stop moving.

She rushes back behind the register counter. 

"I know just the thing... it must be here..." She frantically searches for something hidden from my sight. 

'Just walk out.'

"Wait." She repeats with uncanny timing. A few seconds later she pulls out an object and a satisfied expression spreads over her face.

She walks up to me and smiles. A different smile. This one is almost mischievous. 

"Here," She says, taking my hand and pressing a miniature box into my palm.

I look at her curiously and then open the small fancy container. 

Inside is a necklace. A brilliantly shiny necklace with 3 diamonds surrounding one black diamond in the middle. It looks insanely expensive. 

"I can't af-" I begin. 

"No charge." She says bluntly. 

'Now I get it... this lady is insane. The real store owners are probably chopped up in bags somewhere.'

I give her an inquisitive look. The strange smile is gone but, still something about her eyes makes me edgy. 

'It is a beautiful necklace though.' 

"Thank you." I ultimately say to the woman. 

She pats me on the back and leans in as if to kiss me on the cheek. Instead, she just whispers in my ear, "every boy should love his mother."

'Yep... she's crazy.'

I step away from her and stick the box in my pocket, making my way outside. 

I don't stop moving till I'm back in my car.

'This day is turning out to be way too weird.' 

I take the necklace box and open it up again. 

'It is certainly flashier than the earrings were.'

I try to imagine how it would look on someone. Not overly cumbersome to the wearer but still very appealing to anyone who likes that sort of thing. I put it back in it's case. 

'After all I've gone through to get this, dad better not be mad I overslept.'

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

At 5:15 PM my father knocks on my door. I still haven't told him about the gift. 

"Hey, were you able to pick up what I asked?" He said, kicking off a long conversation.

I told him I had car trouble (white lie) and by the time I got to the jewelers, they were closed. He was disappointed but when I showed him the necklace he looked at me incredulously. 

"How could you afford this?" he finally asked.

Playing it cool, I just said that I found a good deal for it, I promised it wasn't stolen, and I told him that it was the last time I'd be doing something for my mother. You could tell he was excited about the necklace and how happy it would make her. 

"This is great, the gift you couldn't pick up was also a necklace, but now I can just save that for the next holiday. Seems your car trouble worked out for everyone!" He nodded at the necklace while holding it up. "I'm going to give it to her after dinner."

"Why not just give it to her now?" I say, hardly caring about the answer.

"When it comes to women son, it doesn't matter how they feel during the day, as long as they are in a good mood at night" his eyes are still transfixed on the necklace.

It takes me a second to get his meaning. 

"Jesus dad, I don't want to hear that from you." 

"Oh, sorry kiddo," he apologizes while putting the necklace back in its box. 

"Don't think I forgot about our deal, I'll convince your mother to let you stay for a few more weeks." 

His hand reaches for the doorknob.

"Actually," his hand stops and he looks back at me. "When your mother and I get back from dinner why don't you come out to the family room when she opens her gift? I know you two don't get along all the time but hey, she's your mother and she'll appreciate that you helped me out. We don't have to tell her the specifics of course, but I'll let her know you did not let me down."

'Really pops? You'll let her know? HA! You could tell her I discovered the cure to cancer and she'd still want me out yesterday.'

I think of an excuse. "I don't know... I was planning on watching some TV tonight." 

"You can spare a few minutes; I'll text you when we get home." 

He leaves before I can think of another excuse. 

The next few hours went by nicely. I caught up on Fargo, masturbated twice; I was feeling pretty horny for some reason. Probably missing my ex already. 

Eventually, I passed out for a little bit.

At about 10:00pm I hear the garage door open and my phone buzz. 'They're home.' 

I move to the family room and sit down on the white couch. 

My dad comes in first, his collared shirt and dress pants are a bit tousled. I can tell he's probably had a few. 

'They must have been somewhere fancy.'

He gives me a thumbs up, and sits down on the sofa across from me. When my mother enters, she is wearing a short blue dress that shows a bit of cleavage and leg. Her naturally brunette hair falls gracefully to her shoulders. She's in the middle of complaining about the waiter at the restaurant but stops cold when she sees me. 

She turns to my father, and pretending I'm not in the room says, "Honey, this evening has been really nice, I think I'm going to go get cleaned up for bed." 

'Great, maybe I won't have to sit through this.' 

"Miranda, I told you I had a gift for you when we got home." My dad stops her. 

"Oh?" she replies casually. She may be ignoring me but I can tell my presence is an inconvenience. 

She finally looks at me. "I wouldn't want to disturb our son with our anniversary when he's so busy." It was obviously sarcasm but Dad is too excited or inebriated to catch it. 

"Nonsense. Jake actually helped pick it out!" My dad gives me a wink. 

Sometimes it's funny how oblivious my father is to the disdain between my mother and I. My mother begrudgingly makes her way over to the sofa.

She sits next to her husband and puts her hand on his leg. 

"You know you didn't have to get me anything," she says playfully. 

"Do you want him to return it?" I ask just to annoy her.

She shoots me an angry glare but then looks back at my father innocently. 

My dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little box. 

My mother gasps. I can tell she's acting to speed this up. 

'And the Oscar goes to...'

She opens it up. Her blue eyes grow wide when she sees what's inside. For a second I don't think she's faking, she's actually impressed. 

I continue to watch as she fawns over the encrusted diamonds, her fingers brushing the surface to make sure they're not an illusion.

I feel a twinge of delight as I watch her become fascinated by the bogus sparkly object.

'It almost feels like retribution for all the crap I've had to deal with.'

Like in junior year, when my mother tried to ship me to boarding school. The only reason I didn't go was because my father brought up how much cheaper public education is. 

"Well... do you want to put it on?" says my dad, gleefully watching her reaction. He puts his hand out and she gives him the necklace. She moves her hair so he can put it around her neck. 

The necklace clasps around her neck. For a split second, the black diamond flashes red. I think my mother sees it too because she gives me a weird look at the same time. 

I blink a few times but the diamond is clearly black. 

'Trick of the light, I guess.'

"Oh, it fits perfectly!" my mother says happily, throwing her arms around my father and bringing him in for a long kiss. 

'Can I go now?'

When they come up for air, my father is beaming like a little schoolboy. I can't help but remember his logic behind waiting till now to give her the necklace. 

I stand to make my exit when my father decides to reiterate, "I really wouldn't have been able to pull this off without Jake."

My mother turns her head and flippantly begins to thank me.

"Thanks for helping y..." but she falters on the last few words. 

I wait for her to complete the sentence. 

Instead, she turns to face me entirely, and in the most appreciative tone I've ever heard her use toward me and says, "that was really sweet Jake, thank you."

She then walks over to me and kisses me on forehead. She steps back, with a peculiar look on her face, as if she didn't mean to do it. Then, she turns back to my father and says "I'm pretty tired dear. We should go to bed."

'Is she drunk or something?'

I get up and leave the family room. It's late, so I go to brush my teeth. In the bathroom mirror, I catch a glimpse of my forehead. My mother's kiss had left a faint pinkish mark. 

'Ew.'

I wipe it off.

'What a weird fucking day.'

I finish up and head to bed. It takes a while before I fall asleep. When I do, I dream of my friends in high school. I dream of my ex girlfriend Rachel. I dream of Rachel and I having sex. But, every time we get into it, the voice of the old creepy lady from Zygri's shop interrupts us. She's whispering, "every boy should love his mother". 

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

Saturday

The next morning, I wake up irritated. My spirits lift when I realize that yesterday's weirdness is all in the past. It's Saturday, my favorite day of the week.

I scavenge for some fresh clothes. I'll have to use the normal shower today since my dad doesn't work weekends. My parents split time at the travel agency, my mother works Thursday through Sunday and my father works Monday through Friday. 

Having my mother work weekends is one of the few breaks I got during high school. I could bring friends over during the day and not worry about her complaining. 

The ironic thing is that my friends, especially my male friends, always ask about her. 

Most of them have never seen or met her, but in sophomore year my friend Reece, who I've known since elementary school, went around spreading the rumor that my mom is a MILF. 

When I first heard that, I almost puked. That anyone my age could find that self serving, conniving, evil woman attractive, confounds me.

The shower only takes me a few minutes. By the time I've dried and dressed I'm starving. I make my way to the kitchen.

'Hopefully dad didn't drink the last of the orange juice.'

I turn the corner to the kitchen, expecting to see my dad making a bagel or pouring some cereal. Instead, I see my mother. 

'Fuck.'

I nonchalantly check my phone. 

'It IS Saturday. What's she doing here?'

She's sitting with her legs crossed at the table, watching something on her computer. She blows into the coffee she's drinking. She's wearing a tight pink shirt and black shorts that cover the first few inches of her thigh. 

"Where's Dad?" I ask bluntly.

"Oh," she says. 

'She must not have seen me.'

She smiles. "We decided to mix the schedule a little. I've been feeling a bit under the weather and your father said he didn't mind handling things on his own for a bit."

I look at her.

'She looks fine; in fact, she looks pretty dolled up for someone not feeling well.'

Her makeup is subtle and she's styled her hair wavy. I also notice she's still wearing the diamond necklace from last night. 

"Um, are you going somewhere?" I ask.

"No, why? Do you need something?" she replies. 

'Why is she being so polite?'

"No. I'm just going to go to my room," I say, grabbing a banana as I leave.

I steal a quick glance back as I go. 

She's just sipping her coffee.

On the way back to my room, I grab the clothes I washed yesterday from the laundry room. 

I toss my stuff onto the bed. It's only then that I notice a small black cloth that must have gotten mixed with my clothes. 

I pick it up.

'OH gross!'

I drop the panties fast. They might as well be a thong judging by their size. 

'How does anyone even fit in those?'

I use a tissue to flick them into a corner of my room. 

'I'll have to return them when she's not home... hopefully she doesn't notice they're gone.' 

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

I confine myself to my room for a few hours. It's difficult, especially on a weekend, not to be able to walk around your own house. With my mother acting strangely though, I don't really have a choice. I hope she goes back to work soon. 

Eventually, I do the only thing that really makes sense. I watch a bunch of porn and jerk off to it. 

At 2:30PM I dart out to get a snack from the kitchen. I quickly move past the family room, where my mother is probably talking to one of her friends on the phone. 

The room is empty though, and the house is quiet. I go to my room happy to have avoided another interaction with her. 

An hour later, I walk around the house again. My mother's car is in the driveway yet she is still nowhere in sight.

'Maybe one of her friends picked her up.'

I'm almost convinced she's not in the house. The only place she could be is in her room but the lights are clearly out and my mother is not one who enjoys the occasional nap. She thinks people who take naps are "lazy" and "unproductive." So it would be very strange if she is sleeping. 

'It's been an odd couple of days though.'

I elect not to investigate. 

'Maybe she's not even in there.'

I head back to my room and Skype with friends for a bit. 

At 4:40 PM, I walk back to the kitchen to get some water. In reality, it's less about the thirst and more about the curiosity of not knowing whether I have the house to myself. I see my parent's door is still shut and no light comes from under it. 

'What if something's wrong...'

Slowly, I walk toward the door. 

'I'm just going to check to see if everything's ok.'

My hand touches the doorknob and I freeze. 

'If she walked out right now she'd probably slap me for intruding on her privacy.'

I turn the knob.

It's really dark, but I can hear the TV is actually on. I push the door open a few more inches. It's still too dark to see anything.

'Where's the light from the television?'

Slowly, not to wake her if she's sleeping, I step in the room and very gently close the door behind me. 

My eyes take a second to adjust. I hear a muffled sound. A little closer and I'll be able to see the bed. 

'Wait... Is that... moaning? ... oh shit, is dad home? Are they having sex?' Dread runs through me as the reality of my parents doing it sinks in. 

I resist the urge to run and risk making noise. 

"Oh, god!" I make out my mother's murmur. 

I don't know why, but I lean forward toward the sound. I freeze. Not in fear, but in complete and utter shock. My father is not there; it is just her. My mother, the woman I loathe. She is on my parent's bed, naked. She's laying on her stomach and facing away from me. She's not sleeping though. I can hear her moving and moaning. 

"Ohhh..mmmm...uhh." One hand is at her crotch while the other fondles a breast. From my angle, I can see her hand is teasing her clit. She's breathing hard. Her body seems to be in a rhythm. With each gyration of her hips, she lets out another sigh or moan. 

"ahhh...yessss...ohhh."

Both hands are now between her legs. She twists, squirms, and bites her pillow. Hair sticks to her face and her skin glistens with sweat from the sexual energy that's enveloped her. Her humping pace increases. She's pumping multiple fingers into her dripping cunt. It's clear that she's satisfying some deep primal need. 

I stand in a hypnotized trance, my throat has gone dry, and my mind is screaming.

'Leave!'

She starts moaning louder.

"Ohhhhhhh... pleassssse.... Yeeesssss!!..."

I see her thighs lock together and her butt cheeks tremor when her orgasm hits. Her hands continue mercilessly molesting her most private of places. She continues to twitch.

My heart is beating insanely fast. I feel dizzy. 

'She's going to turn around!'

The longer I watch, shutting out my mind, the more intense she becomes. She turns to her side to reposition herself. She forces her fingers further into her wet channel. It's dark and I can't make out her tits, but I do catch a glint around her neck. 

'Why is she still wearing that necklace?' 

On the ground, next to the bed, I can see her clothes from this morning. 

"More....Mmmmm.... moooorrreee!" she groans. 

Her convulsions are building up. She sits up on her knees veering back, using one hand to keep her steady. As she continues to finger herself, her head bobs and her boobs bounce. The muscles in her back strain as her pelvic thrusts take her over the edge again and again. 

'What is she thinking about?' 

She's not saying words anymore, just grunting. Her hand seems locked to her vagina. Her toes are clenched.

Part of me wants to gouge out my eyes. The other part is grasping to make sense of it. Everything I am seeing, the sounds she is making, they are having a reaction on me that I don't want to admit. The room smells of her perfume. I look down as I feel my penis hardening. 

It breaks me out of my daze. Slowly, I start backing away. Once I close the door, I don't stop to think. 

I go directly to my room and lock my door. I sit down and I stay sitting for several minutes. My brain constantly flashes with images of my mother's nude body orgasming in front of me. I'm disgusted. I'm repulsed. I'm upset. But, no matter how ashamed I feel, my erection persists. 

'What is wrong with me?'

I eventually leave my room and head to the bathroom. It takes a few minutes of freezing cold water before my penis finally goes flaccid. 

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

Sunday

After my cold shower, I try to escape my thoughts by skipping dinner and going straight to bed. The night was still torture. My dreams were chaotic and perverse. More than one centered around my mother's lewd act of masturbation. I awoke in a sweat and my erection had returned. 

I decided to take care of it this time. I pulled out my laptop, found the sluttiest porn I could come across and went to town. I concentrated on the two lesbians on the screen. As soon as I cum and my dick deflates I feel guilty. 

'This is crazy. Summer cannot continue like this.'

I get dressed. 

'I can't just confront her or tell her to lock her fucking door.'

I pick up my phone. 

'I need to get away from this house.'

My friend Greg answers on the third ring. 

I start talking, "Hey man, I'm going stir crazy, want to hang out?"

We agree to meet up at his place in a half hour. 

I grab my keys from the desk. Crossing my fingers that my mother is back at work, I start walking to the garage. 

"Hey Jake." I hear as I pass the kitchen. 

'NOooo.'

I turn around and there's my mother. My insides do a somersault. She's standing by the sink washing a dish. I can't help but see her differently. At 39, it's pretty amazing how fit she's remained. I guess I couldn't really appreciate it till now. Her 5'6" body could still pass for someone much younger. She's done her hair back in a low bun today. Her toes and fingernails have been repainted a naughty red. Her outfit is a striped green sundress. It shows off her shoulders and legs. The necklace hangs delicately, complementing her olive skin. She looks at me pleasantly. 

"Where are you off to?" She asks, seeing the keys in my hand.

"Uh...," my words stumble out, "a friend's."

"Do you want me to make you something before you leave?" 

'Why is she being so polite?'

I switch the subject. "Are you not going to work again?" 

"No. It's weird but yesterday really tired me out." She responds. 

'Well I can believe that.'

She dries the plate in her hand and then adds, "I could whip up some eggs?"

'I've got to get to the bottom of this.'

"Why... why are you being so nice lately?" The question feels odd. 

"Um," she puts the dish down and takes a dramatic pause before answering. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you. Lately I've been feeling really... bad... about how caustic things have become between us. I really would like us to be closer."

'What's her game? What does she want from me?'

"A week ago you wouldn't shut up about how great it will be when I leave so you can turn my room into your own personal art studio!

You threatened to evict me because I'm 18 now!

You didn't even bother to go to my graduation and my school is two blocks away!

Now you want us to be "closer"? Why are you really doing this, to mess with me??"

I don't know why I'm so upset. Why I want HER to be upset. 

'I just want things to go back to normal.'

She doesn't get angry. If anything, she seems concerned. I think she's going to speak but instead she walks over and puts her arms around me. Her hair smells like flowers. She hugs me and then looks back at my face. "I'm sorry. I hope in the coming days you realize I really am."

I swallow hard. Up close her face seems much softer than I remember. Her skin radiates a dewy glow.

'She probably doesn't even need makeup.' 

The little she wears accentuates her best features. The dark eyeliner bringing out her ocean blue eyes. Her full lips glistening from the same pink shade of lipstick she wore on her anniversary. 

"I gotta go." I say, stumbling back and out of the kitchen. I hurry to the garage. 

I get in my car. While I drive to Greg's, my mind bombards me with questions.

'Is she honestly apologizing after all these years? Is she dying? Is this the work of some brain tumor? And why can't I get rid of these Freudian thoughts?'

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

Greg can tell something is bothering me as soon as I get to his place. 

"Girl troubles?" He guesses and grins knowingly.

"What? Yeah, sort of, how did you know?" I ask surprised. 

"Dude, you told me at Cady's that you and Rachel broke up, it's pretty clear you're not over it." Greg laughs, "You don't remember?" 

"Oh, yeah..." 

'I haven't even thought about Rachel today.'

"The breakup is even affecting my sleep." 

He slaps a hand down on my shoulder. "You, my friend, need to get laid."

I laugh. 

"Seriously bro," he continues. "My ex used to haunt me for like months, then one day I got lucky and you know... no more thinking about the ex."

"Yeah well," I think, "What if you still saw her a bunch?"

"You're still hanging around Rachel?" He asks, giving me a look of judgment. 

I quickly responded. "Nah man, course not, but we're bound to run into each other a lot because we have the same friends, you know?"

He nods. 

"Hey, I'm not saying it's foolproof, but getting some strange is probably the best thing you can do for yourself right now."

I didn't disagree. 

'Even an STD from some hooker would be better than constantly thinking about your own masturbating mother.'

"And dude, Jenny, she's always been into you, and you know she'd give it up like that." Greg snaps his fingers as if to prove his point. 

"Hmm... you might be on to something." I say, pulling my phone from my pocket.

I text Jenny asking if she wants to catch a movie. After ten minutes, she texts back affirming that she does and I check the times at the Harkins, nearby. I leave Greg's a few minutes later. 

"You got this man," he says, giving me a high five on my way out. 

It's no secret that Jenny Tekker likes me. She's told me to my face before, but she's not exactly my type. Her tongue piercing and bleached blonde hair are too quirky for my tastes. As Greg would say though, it's no time to be picky.

I pick her up and it's clear she's excited I called. The movie starts and sure enough, after 30 minutes of special effects and explosions, she makes it clear she wants something more by sticking her hand down my pants. 

Despite the fact that we are sitting in the back row, having sex would be risky with the amount of people that could turn around and see us. Not to mention, movie theater floors are nasty. Instead, she takes my dick in her mouth and it's phenomenal. I'm seriously reconsidering my stance on tongue piercings. The sound of the movie masks her slurping. I feel her tongue teasing my tip while she sucks my 7-inch rod. It's hard to see her face but watching her bright hair move back and forth is erotic enough. Once or twice she licks all the way from the bottom of my shaft to the top. Her mouth is a warm haven. When the hot blonde female lead in the movie glares at the camera, I cum hard. Jenny doesn't even stop sucking for a good minute, until my dick has completely deflated. 

After the movie, I take her home and thank her gratefully. 

"We should do this again," she says exiting the car, "but if we do, next time you owe me one."

"Ha, Ok," I call out the window as she walks away. 

She blows me a kiss.

I feel like a bit of an asshole for using Jenny. It definitely wasn't my finest hour, but it had the desired effect. I had cleared my system. By the time I pull into my driveway, I am no longer freaking out about my mother. 

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

Wednesday

As much as I'd like to declare the issue with my mother over, I know it's not. Some things you just can't unsee. I'm able to block her out, thanks mostly to Jenny, but that doesn't mean she's not lingering in some warped portion of my lizard brain. 

Over the next few days, I put myself on lockdown. I'm like a hermit. I avoid staying in any part of the house other than my own room. It's not too uncommon, during the school year I'd often eat meals there. When I do leave to go to the batting cage or hang out with friends, I make a beeline for the garage. My mom is always around, but I put on headphones and that's worked pretty well. Most my time is occupied with videogames and porn. It's funny, many people denounce porn but I think it really helped me through this whole "oedipal" phase. I mean, after enough hours of college girls getting fucked every which way, I don't think I'll have to masturbate for a few days. 

Unfortunately, I'm down to my last clean socks and I need to wash all my clothes. That means I'll have to walk out every half hour or so to switch things out.

'For fucks sake, it's just laundry. I think I'm capable of managing that.' 

On Wednesday, at 9 AM, I apprehensively creep out of my room and make my way to the washer. As I pass the kitchen, relief washes over me. My dad is standing by the refrigerator.

'She's gone back to work!'

He sees me and I give him a nod. 

"Hey Jake, we need to talk." He says.

I gulp. 

'What do we need to talk about?' 

"What?" I ask, putting down my laundry. 

"It's about your mother..." he says, remaining ambiguous. 

'Of course it is.'

"Yeah?" 

He gives me a serious look. Then looks down at his beverage. 

"Son," he starts slowly, as if trying to pick the right words. If you took a picture of this moment I'm probably white as a ghost. 

"Son, I understand you're still upset about having to leave in a few weeks, and I don't want to make things more... well turbulent."

I wait for the ball to drop. 

"Last week I got notice that a travel agency in Italy is interested in merging with the business. In order to see if that's possible, your mother and I were going to fly to Venice and talk to them in person." 

'The house to myself? There is a God!'

My entire body relaxes. 

He continues, "well, that was the plan originally at least."

'and it still is the plan, say it.'

"Anyways," he continues, "your mother has made it clear she needs a break from work, which I totally understand. So, she's going to skip this trip and I'll be going solo."

My mouth drops open like some stupid cartoon character. 

"Will she at least be running the office while you're away?" I ask hopefully. 

"Not everyday probably. It's not like we'll lose a ton of business if we close up shop until I get back." He's talking to himself as much as me. 

Then he looks straight at me. 

"Jake I need to hear you promise that you're not going to rile her up. While I'm gone, she's the boss. If you do anything that pisses her off I won't be here to shield the blow. She'll kick you out and that's that. I don't want that, I want you to have time to find a decent apartment and..." 

I stopped listening. It was hard to fathom that my luck could be so bad. 'Maybe it would be better to just move out into a crummy little apartment right now.' 

He's still talking. I need to say something.

"Dad," I interrupt him, "Has mom seemed a little strange to you lately?"

I see him processing the question. I can tell he's not comfortable by the creasing lines on his forehead. He runs his hand through his hair as he answers. 

"Well you're not wrong, she has been a little on the curious side of late, don't tell her I told you that," he laughs weakly. 

"I think she's just a bit under the weather though. I've been trying to get her to see a doctor but she says she's just stressed from work. My advice for you is that you try to get along as well as you can while I'm gone."

Why do you ask though?" 

I try to think of a normal response.

"Um... it's nothing, she has been sort of nicer, lately.

So when do you leave?" I follow up. 

"Friday night. But if you can't promise to be on your best behavior then... well then you're just going to have to shack up at one of your friend's houses."

'That wouldn't be too bad.'

"And if you decide to go that route, there's no guarantee your stuff will be here when you get back."

"Why!?" I rebut. 

He has a stern expression. 

"You're an adult now. This isn't a storage facility. If you're not mature enough to set aside your anger and help your mother with the house for a week, I can't blame her for wanting you gone." 

'This is stupid.'

"This is stupid." I argue.

"It is what it is Jake." 

I stare at the table, thinking.

Another whole week of being confined to my room wasn't settling well. Neither is the thought of staying at a friend's while my stuff is being taken to the dump. 

I close my eyes, already feeling regret for what I'm about to say. 

"Fine, I'll try not to piss her off."

"Good to hear," he replies. 

His phone rings and he answers it. 

I pick up my laundry and head to the washer.

With only my father home, I'm free to roam around the house. I plop down on the living room couch and turn on the big screen TV. 

'Ahhh, mind numbing cable.'

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

The next hours go by uneventfully. 

I'm almost done with my laundry. I'm picking up the last of my dirty clothes when I notice the black panties from the other day. 

'Shit, I forgot about that.'

They're still in the corner where I threw them. My father isn't in the house anymore. He left to go buy a new suitcase for his trip. 

I decide this is the best time to return them. I kneel and pick them up between my pointer finger and thumb. 

'They're just panties.'

Keeping them as far away as I can, I walk into the hall and toward my parent's room. It's not until I reach the door that I realize that the last time I was in this spot was when I checked in on my mother. 

I swallow and power through the memory. Their room is bright today; the shade is open allowing sunlight to spill everywhere. I avoid looking at the bed and I breathe through my mouth. My focus is on the mahogany dresser. 

I start with the drawer on the top right. 

'Dad's socks and ties.'

Top middle.

'Spare bed sheets.'

Top left. 

'Bingo.'

Bras, panties, bikini's, pantyhose, and thongs fill the drawer. Some are much more risqué than others. My attention sways to a red lace bra. 

'She's worn that before.'

I remember seeing the color poking out of some of her tighter fitting outfits. What I hadn't known at the time was that it is basically see through. My heart is beating faster. 

I drop the panties in my hand toward the back. The drawer won't close. Paranoia starts to mess with me. 

'What if she walks in right now?'

My hand goes in the drawer, pressing down on her delicates. 

'Soft.'

The drawer gives way and I shut it. 

I exhale. It's cool but I can feel a bead of sweat above my eyebrow. I retrace my steps and exit the room. 

My father returns an hour later, proud of his new purchase. My mother is home by six. While grabbing dinner from the fridge, I hear her and my father arguing in another room. 

I don't stick around to find out what it's about. 

Thursday

When I check my phone this morning, it says I have two missed calls. One is from Greg, inviting me to go paintballing with some friends and one is from Rachel. Rachel didn't leave a voicemail. I'm debating calling her back. 

I also find a new message on my email. It's from the University, they've denied my request to move into the dorms early. 

'Fuck.'

It's only been one week since my graduation yet my life seems to have been turned upside down. 

I text Greg to find out when everyone is meeting up. I decide not to call Rachel back.

'If it's important she'll call again.'

Greg gets back to me. I change into some old blue jeans and a shirt with a tear in it. I leave my house with no issues. 

'My mother and father are probably both at work, preparing the paperwork for his trip.'

My morning is great. For the first time in awhile I'm able to concentrate on something other than my own dilemmas. Reece is there along with four other people I know. We switch between two teams of three and a ref. By the time lunch rolls around, we're bushed. 

We end up at a fast food joint. 

"So how's your mom?" Reece jokes at the booth.

"Fuck you." I reply. 

'Can I just have one day without her coming up?'

He continues, "Oh, I see I'm out of line, I'll stop talking about your hot mom." 

Everyone cracks up.

I want to punch him but I just laugh along with everyone else. 

Excluding that short exchange, today has put me in a really good mood. By the time I get home, it's late afternoon. 

The first thing I notice is my mother's car in the driveway. I go through the back door and try to slink to my room silently.

"Jake? Is that you, are you home?"

I spin around and see my mother standing in the hall. 

"Hi." Is all I can think to say.

"Your father and I were at the office this morning. I was surprised to see you gone when I got home." She looks at my stained shirt. 

"I... I went paintballing," I say. "Is dad here?"

"No, he's still got a few things to take care of. I guess it's just you and me for the next little bit." She smiles. My heart flutters and I hate myself for it.

She's still in her work clothes. A black skirt hugs her hips while a slim tan jacket and white shirt still manage to show off her hourglass figure. She's wearing pantyhose and black high heel shoes. The sound they make on the tile used to unnerve me because it meant she was close by. Her left shoulder leans against the wall. Her arms are crossed and her breasts rest snugly against them. The black diamond necklace is suspended around her neck. Her smile captivates me. Her cherry red lips, olive skin, and blue eyes are all framed by lush, dark brown hair. 

'Jesus, stop looking at her.'

"I'll be in my room." I say, mostly to the ground. 

She pouts. Like I've seen her do to my father a billion times. 

"You sure you don't want to watch some TV with me?"

'Is this her still trying to prove she's sorry?'

Her arms go to her sides.

Over her shirt I see a hint of red.

'I wonder if it's the same see-through bra from her dresser drawer.'

I feel my penis twitch.

"Busy." Is all I can sputter as I turn and bolt to my room. 

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

Friday 

My father leaves tonight and I don't know how things can get much worse. I remember watching an episode of TV where this guy was attracted to his step-mom, so he goes to his doctor and asks for pills to help him control his emotions. 

I'm so desperate that I start trying to find the episode online. 

When I search "TV show guy attracted to step mom" all that comes up is hot actresses who play mothers on TV. 

Just that gets blood rushing to my penis. 

'This is getting out of hand.'

My father's flight leaves at 8:30PM. I volunteer to drive him to the airport. I didn't get an allowance growing up. Probably my mother's decision. But, my father would always slip a 20 to me when he needed someone to drive him somewhere.

"Still cheaper than a cab," he would remark when exiting the vehicle. 

We hit the road at 6:45PM. I drop him off at 7:10PM. I pick myself up a couple slices of pizza. By the time I get home it's a little past 8. 

In my room, I pull out my dinner and set my feet up. I accidentally kick over some books. As I pick them up, I notice something under my desk and reach for it.

'Feels like a sock... wait, when did socks get multiple holes?'

The truth hits me as my hand finally nabs it and I see them in the light.

'What the fuck?'

They are the panties I had tossed into the corner of my room. 

'But they can't be, I returned those. How the fuck are they back here... and more importantly why are they WET?'

I yelp when my fingers make contact with a damp part of the cloth. 

'Did she do this? She's the only one who could have... Why would she though?... 

unless...

... 

of course. 

She saw me spying on her! She saw me spying on her and instead of telling me, she's been fucking with me this entire week! She's not sorry for shit, she's hoping to drive me out of the house but not before she drives me into a straightjacket! That fucking bitch! That evil, diabolical, malicious, depraved vixen!' 

I can't calm down, I'm furious. I want to bust down my door. I want to scream. 

'How could I be so stupid?' 

I pace for a long time, talking to myself. 

After an hour I sit down. The hair on my arms is standing straight up and my teeth clamp down tight. 

'She can't get away with this.'

My options are limited. There's no way explaining this to my father works in my favor. 

'The only advantage I have is that I've finally caught on to what she's been doing. Acting all nice and dressing up at home, making me uncomfortable to drive me crazy... How far was she planning to take this?'

I smile. 

My smile widens as an idea unfolds in my mind.

'What if I keep playing along?' 

'What if I wait until she realizes she's not phasing me anymore? She'll be forced to up her game. And, in order to do that she'll have to do something really risky, way riskier than dropping some underwear under my desk in the hopes that I'd find it. And, if I get that moment on record... well then I think she'll be forced to rethink letting me stay the rest of the summer.'

I stuff the panties in the back of my closet before getting ready for bed. 

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

Saturday

I sleep like a baby. I can't remember feeling so refreshed. 

The motive of vengeance seems to energize me. 

I get up, shower, get dressed, and head to the kitchen. From now on, when I'm in the vicinity of my mother, my phone will be recording every sound. 

"Morning," I announce. She's sitting at the table doing a crossword. 

"Hey Sweetie," she replies, in a surprised but happy manner, "I wasn't expecting to see you at breakfast, you've been so absent lately."

'Yeah, I've been avoiding you bitch.'

"Oh, I've been pretty busy you know, with college stuff," I say. I grab a box of cereal from the cabinet.

"That's a nice shirt on you," she points out.

"It's not new." I declare, looking down at my gray t-shirt. 

She bites her pencil and returns to the crossword puzzle. After I pour some milk, I take a seat at the opposite end of the table.

Her face exhibits a perplexed expression.

"I'm stuck on this clue," she states, "all it says is "cat". I know it's supposed to be 6 letters and start with a C."

I ponder for a moment.

"Calico?" 

She shakes her head. "I tried that one, it didn't work." After another minute, her shoulders slump forward in a defeated fashion. She sweeps the puzzle away from her. 

"So what do you have planned for today?" she inquires. 

'Say something that would normally irritate her.'

"Eh, I think I might just hang around the house, watch some TV, maybe invite a friend over."

I wait for a flicker of annoyance to betray her. 

Her bright disposition does not waver. 

"That sounds like fun! Do you want to watch a movie tonight? I just bought a new DVD." She suggests.

'Do I want to spend my Saturday night watching a movie with a psycho? Not really.' 

"Um... sure."

She stands up and walks past me. Her fragrance follows; it smells sweet, like pumpkin. 

She pours herself some water and asks if I want any. 

I nod. 

Her hair is parted to the side today. That, along with her maroon blouse and matching colored lipstick, evokes the impression of a youthful yet sophisticated woman. 

She walks back to the table and bends over to hand me my glass. My face is level with her cleavage and necklace. Instinctively, my eyes travel down her shirt where I'm reminded of the afternoon I was audience to her self abuse session. 

'She's not wearing a bra.'

I attempt to take my glass but in a highly convenient miscommunication, she accidentally drops it in my lap. 

Water splashes everywhere.

'Cold!'

"Oh my gosh Jake! I'm so sorry, let me grab a towel."

I'm too startled to process what she's saying. My pants are completely drenched. 

When she rushes back, I expect her to hand me the towel but instead she begins padding all over my lap.

"Mom! It's alright, I can do that." I exclaim the instant she touches my leg. 

She ignores me and starts kneading my soaked jeans. 

With her body bent over, gravity keeps her blouse open enough for me to make out the side of her boobs. I can feel the pressure of her hand getting closer to my groin. I take hold of her wrist. 

"Stop. I got this." I say as calmly as I can. 

She apologizes again for the miscommunication and picks up my glass from the floor. 

When I get to my room to change my pants, I realize my cell phone was in one of the pockets. 

I pull it out. It's unresponsive. 

'I have to stick it in rice.'

I get back into the kitchen and see my mother wiping the floor on her knees. Her blue sailor-high wasted shorts show off her well-rounded ass as she extends to soak up the water under the table.

I make my way to the cabinets and look for rice. I open the bag just as my mother finishes with the floor. 

"Oh no, not your phone too," She expresses remorsefully. 

'She's so shrewd, I'm 80% sure this was all on purpose yet her acting has me doubting myself.' 

"Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fine," I express, burying the phone deep in the bag.

She picks up her crossword puzzle and says, "If it makes you feel better, I think I figured out what the word is." She smiles weakly.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Cougar." She answers. 

I roll my eyes. I can't help it. 

She perceives that I'm disgruntled and begins to pout like she did the other day. 

'I'm not my father, you can't fool me.'

After a second she walks up and gives me a hug. I can feel her naked breasts pushing in on me through her shirt. The longer she holds on, the more I want to embrace back.

'Uh oh.' 

I feel my penis gradually waking. 

"So are we still on for our date tonight?" She asks, not letting go.

"Yeah," I reply, getting anxious.

"Good" she proclaims, finally releasing me. 

I step around the corner to hide my tent. 

'I don't think she noticed, at least I really really hope she didn't.' 

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

Back in my room, I reevaluate the plan. Now that I no longer have my phone, I'm going to have to hide a camera in the living room for when we watch the movie. 

'I didn't even ask what movie it is. I guess it doesn't matter.'

If this morning was any reflection on what she was going to put me through, I needed to be quick enough not to get caught off-guard. I think back to the panties in my closet.

'What kind of mother does this to her son?'

At 3:00PM, when the coast is clear, I place a video camera behind one of the flower vases that's positioned in line with the couch. I set it on an automatic timer. It should start filming at 7:00PM and run until the battery goes out. 

I try distracting myself with random activities for the next few hours but I can't concentrate. As much as I want to get back at my mother for this last week, I'm conflicted as to what it could do to our family. 

'Surely my dad will ask questions if my mother suddenly decides it's alright if I stay? What am I supposed to do about that?' 

At 6:00PM I go back to my room and lock the door. I postpone my concerns and pull out my computer. 

'There's no way I can let myself get excited around my mother tonight.'

I push down my pants and take my dick into my right hand. For the next however many minutes, I marathon through a ton of smut. 

I'm on my third go, there is a healthy stack of Kleenex in my trash, when I hear a light rap on my door. 

"Jake?" It's my mother.

I compose myself as much as I can. My pants and boxers are around my ankles and I'm in mid stroke. 

"Yeah," I say, probably louder than I need to. 

She continues, "Honey, are you ready to watch the movie? I made us some dinner too." 

'You never cook?' 

"Ok, I'll be out in a minute," I say. My shirt is saturated in sweat and I probably smell like cum. 

"Actually, I'll be out in five minutes; I need to use the restroom first." I communicate through the door.

I hear the sound of her heals fade as she walks away. 

I shut my laptop and grab a new set of clothes. In the bathroom, I wash my face, hair, and penis. It takes me a few minutes to change. When I exit the bathroom I feel nervous; butterflies in my stomach nervous. I also feel excited with the prospect of finally ending my mother's control. 

In the living room, I see my mother has put out a tray table with food settings. She's made a casserole. 

'Smells alright.'

The DVD has already been set up as well, it's some chick flick I've never heard of. I'm almost a little relieved. 

'What was I expecting, Basic Instinct?'

I don't know whether I should start eating or not. I lean back on the couch. From the other side of the house, I can hear my mother's steps slowly getting louder. 

'I wonder if she got dressed up for...'

My mind hits a brick wall as my mother strolls into the room. She looks incredible. Her straight hair flows down behind her shoulders and has taken on a dark auburn sheen. 

'She must have just come from the shower.'

She's wearing a nightgown, not one of those frilly old lady ones but the ones you see women in Viagra commercials wear. Ones that lovers are meant to tear off before a rough night of lovemaking. The black diamond necklace clings close to her bosom. 

Her long tanned legs move toward the couch. 

She sits down next to me. The smell of her vanilla body lotion washes over me. 

"I hope it's alright," she says, referring to the casserole. 

"It's great," I respond, mesmerized by the nape of her neck. 

She looks at me. "Do you have the remote?"

I look around my seat but can't find it. 

"It's ok, I'll just start it manually." She says. My mother walks over to the Blu-ray player and bends down. I get a flash of her thong and beautiful ass cheeks. 

'She's doing this on purpose. She wants me to feel so sexually frustrated that I leave.' 

I bite the inner part of my lip and resist the sexual images circulating in my head. 

The movie starts. I concentrate on eating. 

The casserole isn't bad. 

The movie is though.

'Love triangles are so overplayed.'

I sit back on the couch. 

At around the halfway mark, my mother moves her head and rests it on my shoulder. 

For the first time, I feel a twinge of guilt. 

'If this bastard of a woman is willing to go to these lengths to get me to leave, wouldn't it be better to just go?'

I sigh. She takes her head off my shoulder and kisses my cheek. 

'That's it I'm done.'

"Stop." I say.

She gives me a confused look.

"I know what you're doing." I repeat.

Her smoldering blue eyes just stare at me.

"I know you've been trying to mess with my mind so that I'll move out, and you know what, fine, you win, when dad gets back I'll be gone." 

I try to remain stoic but inside I'm fearing the prospect of not finding an affordable place to live and ending up homeless. 

She cocks her head but continues to look at me in an unusual way. 

When she finally speaks, she leans closer to me; her voice is but a sultry whisper. 

"I'm not trying to kick you out Jake. I'm trying to seduce you."

In one delicately swift motion she moves her face to mine and mashes my lips against hers. I try to push her off but she just kisses me harder. 

I finally jump up from the couch. 

"Gerrroff!" I cry, in a higher octave then I'd like to admit. 

"What are you doing? You're my mother!" 

The room is spinning and my mind is numb.

She gets up from the couch.

"Jake," she says suggestively, "did you really think this was all a hoax?" 

I swallow.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"The staying home from work, the outfits, my underwear..."

I take a step back to steady my knees. 

She continues. 

"And it seemed to work too, I've seen the way you look at me. You want me." She emphasizes her point by lightly tugging at her cleavage with a finger. 

"I don't." I insist. 

'Maybe dad was right, maybe she is sick...'

"You can't lie to me, I'm your mother." Her tone is one of mocking condescension.

"The same mother who's treated me like shit for as long as I can remember?" I argue.

She folds her arms and looks down. When she looks back up, her blue eyes look hurt. 

"Jake... I do regret everything about the last few years; my apology was real. I love you more now than I ever have."

"Then why are you doing this to me!?" I proclaim.

"Because," the hurt in her eyes is replaced with hunger, "I've seen you in a new light... and I want you."

I can still taste her on my lips. Ultimately, I know I can't do what she wants. But, hearing her now, looking as hot as she does, part of me wants to give in. 

"You're married to my father." I rebuke 

"I don't love your father like I do you Jake, not anymore." I catch a hint of wickedness in her tone. 

"Get help." I say, trying not to lose control of the discussion. 

My mother twirls a lock of her hair. 

"You can resist all you want honey, but in the end it won't matter."

"Why not?" I'm forced to ask.

"Because," she walks up to me and puts her lips to my ear, "you're already mine..." she slowly kisses my cheek "you just don't know it." 

She gives me a naughty smile and then yawns, arching her back, which thrusts out her tits.

"See you in the morning angel." She exits the room like nothing ever happened. 

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

I try telling myself I'm in a nightmare but I know nothing I could dream up would be this depraved. 

I take my time cleaning up dinner. The process of doing a chore makes it easier to think about my situation.

I'm physically attracted to my mother. There's no doubt about that anymore. I'm done pretending. In order to get over that attraction, I'm probably going to need some serious therapy. All that is really a secondary concern however. My real problem is short term. She's going to destroy the family if she keeps it up.

'Seriously, what's wrong with her? Since my graduation... no, since her anniversary she's been acting oddly.'

'Whatever it is, I guess I'm just going to have to deny her advances until my father gets home and I can leave.

Easier said than done.' 

When I get to my room I see the camera I hid earlier on my bed. I had forgotten about it until now. "How did she even know?" 

Written on a sticky note attached to the camera's side are the words "To help you sleep tonight. XOXO" In my mother's handwriting. 

I put the camera on my night table and go to brush my teeth. When I get back, I lay on my bed unable to get to sleep. 

'nothing good can come from playing that video.

nothing good can come from playing that video.

nothing good can come fro- fuck it.'

I scramble to grab the camera and a pair of headphones. Once I'm good to go I turn the power on and hit play. 

At first, it's black screen. Then my father pops into screen view, he's setting up the camera near the side of my parent's room. Behind him is their bed. 

"Alright Miranda, it's set up just like you wanted." He shouts toward the bathroom off screen. 

My mother enters the picture. She's wearing a blue dress and the neckl-

'That's the dress from her anniversary, this was last Friday.'

"I've always wanted to make one of these with you." My father says to my mother. 

"Happy anniversary darling," she says to him and then winks at the camera. 

She starts undressing him and I'm almost about to turn off the camera when my father unzips her dress and her bare back comes into focus. 

She daintily wiggles out of the rest of her dress letting it pool at her feet. My father stands back fascinated by the show. She's naked except for her black bra, black thong, and diamond necklace. 

I have an instant boner. She ushers my father forward with her hand. They start kissing until he has an erection of his own, something I never thought I'd have to see in my life. From the look of it, I think I'm a little bigger. For some reason this makes me proud. 

He removes my mother's bra and reaches to take off her necklace. 

"No," she says playfully slapping his hand away, "it's my gift." 

My dad doesn't seem to care as his attention is now fully directed toward her large boobs. He grabs one and squeezes her round pink tit. She groans. Then he kisses the other one. There isn't a lot of finesse to his actions but if I remember, he was drunk. My mom kicks off her thong and I get a good look at her shaved vagina as she falls backwards onto the bed. Her legs spread wide. My dad gets on top of her. He takes his rigid member, positions it, and then pushes it in. 

"Jesus!"

I hear my mother groan.

'She must have been really wet.'

My father humps my mother for awhile before unceremoniously pulling out. I can hear the slurping noise as it happens. They switch positions. My dad lies back with his dick sticking straight up in the air. When my mother gets on top, she flips her hair to the side like a lioness. My hand reaches down to my own rock hard penis. There's an internal struggle going on in my mind about lines and which not to cross. My mother starts bouncing and pushing herself onto my dad's dick. She rides him, grinding her hips, and rocks back and forth. I hear my dad ask her to slow down. In response, she lowers the rest of herself onto my father, pressing her body against his, and kissing his chest. When she reaches his face they lock tongues. It's my parents but it's pretty hot. He gives her a jolt by spanking her ass cheek, which ripples gloriously. She yelps. I can't help but give my penis a stroke. He takes her succulent tit into his mouth. My mother lifts her leg and, with surprising flexibility, pushes off my father's still-hard cock. He lets go of her tit and watches as she straddles his waist and then moves up his body until she has positioned her pussy lips just above his mouth. My father grabs her ass cheeks and buries his head deep into her womanhood. Her bare feet flex in different directions as my father eats her out. She fondles her own breast with one hand and guides the back of my fathers head with the other. After another minute I watch her back arch and her head whip back. Had this been a ceiling cam I might have seen her eyes closed and her mouth gaping open. She makes a guttural moan I've never heard her make before. I continue to stroke my own penis. My mother eventually turns over and rests her beautiful breasts on my father's abdomen. She takes his cock into her hand. Her finger goes back to where my father is sucking her clit and runs it between her pussy slit. She then uses the juices that are already on his dick to start stroking him. Though my father has my mother's thighs clamped around his face, I can tell by his spasms that he's getting close to coming. My hand is still around my shaft when my mother looks directly at the camera, she spasms through an orgasm, her eyes never leaving the Cyclops eye of the lens. Her face is red, her hair is scuffled, her lipstick smeared. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. I throw the camera off my bed and try to stop my penis from erupting. 

After a few minutes of what I guess you'd call meditation, I've relaxed to the point where my penis is back in standby. 

I realize that if I pick up the camera again that I'll no doubt end up jacking off to my mother. 

'You're better than that.'

I take out my computer and search up the porn I normally watch. Trouble is, it's not doing the job today. Sure, the naked girls are hot, but they're missing something. 

I browse through different categories. 

'Fetish... no... Nonhuman... no... First time... no... Incest... ...'

I click on incest, fully expecting it to disgust me. It would have a few weeks ago at least. I click the first video about a mom and her son who accidentally took a Viagra. 

Cut to five minutes in and I have my hand wrapped around my dick and am struggling not to blow before the video is even a third of the way through. 

I don't make it. 

'Holy shit that was incredible.'

I collapse in a sweaty heap on my bed. 

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

Sunday

I awake with a bad case of morning wood. It takes two incest videos before my horniness subsides. I'm just about to go take a shower when I hear a knock on my door. 

'It has to be my mother.'

I don't respond. 

"Jake, I brought you some breakfast."

I still don't respond.

She doesn't leave. Eventually I open the door a fraction to tell her I'm not hungry. She pushes her way inside my room with a tray full of ham and eggs. 

"Wow, looks like you had a busy night," she says cheekily.

I look around my room and am horrified to see what she means. My trash can is filled with tissues, the camera she left me is still on the floor open, and the whole place probably smells like a testosterone factory. 

"I wasn't feeling very well," is the only response I can muster. 

"Did you enjoy the present I left you?" she asks quizzically. 

'Is she seriously asking me that?'

"Mom, about last night, I don't know if I made it clear enough, but I would never be with you." I say defiantly. 

She doesn't say anything.

Instead, my mother leans over and picks up one of the last tissues I used for sperm disposal.

Her blue eyes lock on to mine as she tenderly brings the tissue up to her face and under her nostrils.

She gives me a devilish smirk before inhaling deeply. Her eyelashes flutter. 

I turn around and clench my eyes shut.

"I'm not doing this with you." I insist.

I don't move for a minute. When I finally open my eyes and turn around, she's gone. 

'Phew...'

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

Later that afternoon

The home phone rings but I let it go. My friends only ever call me on my cell, which isn't great considering my phone is still unresponsive. 

This week is a lot like the last one. I feel shut off from the world. The only difference is that at any moment I could have a nervous breakdown.

I'm currently tilting back on my chair and staring at the ceiling. I haven't moved the camera from the floor. I know there is still about 5 minutes of the movie that I never got to see, and it's bugging me. 

"Your father is on the line." My mother yells through the door. 

My hands press against my face. 

'What can I even say to him?'

When I open the door my mother is leaning against the wall with one foot up, talking on the phone. 

"...well I don't know dear, maybe you should just ask for an English menu next time." She does a cute eye roll. 

"Mhm, well I've got Jake here in front of me so I'll talk to you later ok?... Alright bye." 

As she gives the phone to me, she puts her index finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. 

"uh... Hello?" I say, bringing the phone to my ear. 

My mother sashays away in her short yellow dress, provocatively moving her hips as she goes. 

My father's voice cuts through the transceiver. 

"Hey, how is everything?" He sound's tired. 

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

"Things are... fine," I state. 

I hear him cough on the other line.

"And how's your mother?" he asks. 

'Well she seemed fine a second ago when she was flaunting her nice ass.'

"I don't know dad, how are things there?"

He launches into a story about his trip. I try to focus on what he's saying but I'm overshadowed with guilt. 

'He's not a great father, but what she's doing is too unfair.'

"Dad?" I ask, when he finishes his rant.

"Yes son?" he replies. 

I take a deep breath and then open my mouth to speak.

I can't get the words out though. As much as I want to clear my conscience and tell him everything that's been going on. I'm too afraid of what would happen if I did. 

"I hope you have a good rest of the trip." I eventually say. 

"Thanks. Sorry I didn't call yesterday; things have been busy. I'll try to call tomorrow." He expresses. 

We exchange goodbyes and finish the call. I'm sitting in bed; my head hanging in shame. 

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

I walk to the kitchen to return the phone to its charging station. My mother is waiting for me. Her legs are crossed and it's only now I realize the amount of neckline her dress shows off. The sides of each breast are clearly visible. 

"Jake, come sit down," she says, tapping the seat next to her. 

"No thanks," I say. 

"Do you like my new dress?" she asks, following my eye line.

I decide to confront her. 

"You have to stop. You can't do this to dad. You've been a manipulative bitch for a long time but this is going too far. He doesn't deserve it." 

She scoffs, and for the first time in a couple weeks, I see a gleam of anger in her eyes. 

"Your father is the main reason I became such a "manipulative bitch"." She stands abruptly, making her chair totter backwards.

"Do you think I wanted to be in my early 30s living paycheck to paycheck? Having to deal with a kid and a dumbass husband who threw our lifesavings into some risky business venture!" She sneers, but then closes her eyes and lets the anger dissipate.