A Reluctant Corruption

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.