M Club Ch. 12

The first rule of M Club is: You don't talk about M Club. The second rule of M Club is: You don't talk about M Club. Third rule of M Club: No touching anyone but yourself. Fourth rule: No recording devices. Fifth rule: No clothing below the waist. Sixth rule: If this is your first time at M Club, you must masturbate.

* * *

Joan held up the ketchup bottle in dismay. There was nary a tablespoon of tomato-based goodness left in the bottom and someone in the family - take your pick between her husband Tom or sons Sean and Ryan - had put it back in the fridge without adding it to the grocery list. Now their dinner of sloppy joes, with the meat already browning, was in jeopardy. No matter how many times she reminded them, this was bound to keep happening. She fell back on her yoga training and took several deep breaths.

Sean was home a bit earlier than usual these days, so she turned down the burner and ascended the stairs silently in bare feet in search of her eldest. Tom frequently accused her of ninja-like stealth ever since she'd taken to practicing yoga - either from enhanced grace, the form-fitting athletic wear, or both. She didn't do it intentionally, but there were times it was fun to catch her family unaware.

Sean's bedroom door was cracked open and she could just make out the sound of scribbling. Better than finding the door closed. He was a teen, after all, and she knew perfectly well what sort of behavior he often engaged in. Lately, he'd been spending more time with his girlfriend, Denby, so perhaps he'd shifted more from the self-indulging behavior to with-a-friend variety. Though difficult at times to accept this as she still saw in him the boy she'd raised, he was an adult and a rather mature one at that.

She tapped at the door, opening it slightly in the process. Sean, sitting at his desk, still flinched at the sound and quickly closed a composition notebook. Was that a hint of guilt in his body language, or had she simply startled him too much?

"Sean?"

"Yeah? What's up?" Whichever the case, he did a remarkable job of looking relaxed as he turned in his chair.

"We're out of ketchup," she said. "I need it for dinner and it can't wait for Dad and Ryan to pick it up on their way home. Could you run down to the store and grab some quick?"

"Sure, no problem," he said. "Give me just a moment and I'll head over."

"What'cha working on?" She glanced at the closed book.

"Homework for English. Nothing too exciting."

Joan nodded. She had no reason not to believe him, except for his initial reaction when he'd knocked. Curious.

"Not using your laptop?"

She knew Sean well enough to detect the slight squirm in his seat.

Sean shook his head no. "Mrs. Roddy was telling us how the brain works differently when writing by hand or typing. Something in the way the nerves are wired. She said we should switch it up once in a while, so I'm giving it a try."

That actually sounded sensible to Joan, so she let it drop. "And now I've learned my new thing for the day. I'll go grab some money and leave it by the door."

Sean nodded and turned around as she pulled the door back. She returned downstairs and had barely gotten a five from her purse by the time he came bounding down. His resemblance to his father - tall, lanky build and those eyes - was uncanny, especially over the last couple years. Even his smile reminded her of Tom from back in college when they'd first met.

"Back in a few," he said, snatching the bill from her grasp and hurrying out the door.

Joan returned to the kitchen to stir the meat, but it no longer needed attention at the low temperature. She had sides all ready to go and was left with nothing to do for the moment while waiting on Sean. She probably could have gone on her own, but she didn't like leaving the stove unattended.

Her thoughts wandered back to Sean's composition book and his reaction. If it wasn't school work, what might he have been doing? Could it be a diary or journal? That seemed unlikely, but not impossible. Certainly, it wasn't anything bad. Not Sean.

She wanted to push her curiosity aside, but knew it was a losing battle. It was an acknowledged character flaw of hers, one that induced no small amount of guilt and would likely continue to do so for the rest of her life. If she didn't take a peek at the book, in spite of knowing it was none of her business, it would eat at her the rest of the day or week, interfering in other aspects of her life.

Giving in entirely too quickly, probably because Sean wouldn't be gone long, Joan hurried back up the stairs and poked her head in his room. The notebook was no longer sitting out on his desk. She felt a bit of relief, that temptation had been removed from her path. Her curiosity, however, wasn't going to give in quite that easily. She stepped inside the room and scanned over the stacks of books and notes strewn across his desk.

Without the need to move anything, she spotted the book, tucked away at the bottom of a stack of papers in the far corner. It might be a different one - the black cover was nothing out of the ordinary - but she had a hunch it was the same as there were no others like it in evidence. She stared at it, guilt and curiosity waging an uncomfortable battle in the pit of her stomach. As usual, the heavyweight fighter came out on top and she carefully extracted it from the pile.

Joan opened the cover and found a cryptic list of names and numbers lining the first page. She was baffled until she found the names Brady, Manning, and Rogers in consecutive rows. A sigh of relief accompanied the realization that this was nothing more than fantasy football notes. No harm, no foul.

But why hide it? Or pretend it was homework? And wasn't it a few months away from fantasy football season?

Joan flipped through a few more pages, most blank, until the block of writing began. At the top of the page were the words: "M Club, a history."

"What the heck is M Club?" She hoped it was fantasy football related, perhaps the name of their league, but she doubted it.

Reading on: "The first rule of M Club is: You don't talk about M Club." She finished reading the "rules" until reaching the last word: "Masturbation."

Joan felt her hands begin to shake. Masturbation club? Was this real or just some fantasy? Maybe Sean was into writing stories now?

She continued: "I felt the need to write this down for two reasons. First, the events of the last couple weeks have been absolutely amazing and I want to capture it for the sake of my memory. Second, if for some reason this club we have spreads beyond just our small group, it might be nice to have a historical record of its founding (perhaps with names changed). I'm not expecting that to happen, but I didn't expect anything like this to happen period."

To Joan, that sounded more like a journal entry than fiction, but it was still impossible to know for certain. What she did know was that she was well over the line with invading her son's privacy and should put the book back and never think about it again.

She kept reading. Sean went on to explain his budding relationship with Denby (another mark on the side of reality) and how she'd made a promise to her mother not to have sex before graduation, including any form of genital contact. That surprised Joan a bit, but she was equally heartened by the way Sean wrote of his respect for that and desire to help her see it through to the end.

He then explained how he first masturbated in front of her after a heated make out session at their secret place in the woods. She wondered where that might be. The making out bit was hardly surprising - she'd been a teen once as well. At least both of them were legally adults, so there was no risk to Sean on that front as long as they didn't get caught "in public."

The idea of Sean masturbating for his girlfriend was slightly unsettling for varied reasons. She had no issue with masturbating in general, or even with a lover, but it was still hard to envision her own child as being that confident at this age. At the same time, she found the scenario kinda hot and could easily picture her and Tom doing something like that back in their college days. Heck, they'd done similar things and more. That this was getting her turned on was...weird.

Apparently, the episode had been quite a turn on for Sean and he was pretty sure Denby had enjoyed it as well since she asked him to repeat the performance the next day. It sounded like Denby hadn't quite been participating to the same degree, leaving her panties on, but from Sean's description he'd been encouraging.

At least he wasn't pushing her, Joan thought. It was odd to find reason to be proud of her son in the context of this sort of behavior.

So, was this M Club just what they called themselves or was it more? Sean had opened his journal with mention of it spreading. That led her to believe others had come to be involved, and she was incredibly curious now to know who else, how, and to what extent. Getting those answers, however, would be increasingly in violation of his privacy. She knew she'd seen enough to satisfy her curiosity and it was time to let propriety prevail.

Before returning the composition book to the bottom of the stack, she thumbed through the pages. Nearly a third of the book was full of writing. How long had this been going on? They'd only started dating in the winter and their first masturbation had been in the woods, so likely just this spring. Apparently, they'd been very busy the last month or two.

She glanced at the last page and saw the names of Lisa, Andy, and Vida mixed in. Before she could read any further, though, she heard Sean pull back into the driveway. Her heart seized and she quickly returned the book back to the stack, hoping there would be no evidence of her intrusion. She was back down the steps and just made it to the kitchen when the front door opened.

With a couple deep breaths, Joan composed herself and put on her best "normal" posture for when Sean came into the kitchen. She turned and accepted the bottle of ketchup in one hand and her change in the other.

"Here ya go," he said with a smile.

"Thank you much." She couldn't help but see him in a whole new light. Nothing had really changed, but there seemed to be even more of his father in him now.

"What?" Sean cocked his head slightly.

Joan shook her head, embarrassed at having failed to act normally. "You just look more and more like your father every day. Twenty years ago, you might have been twins. Brothers, at least."

Sean looked slightly uncomfortable but took it in stride. Looking like his father was certainly nothing to take offense at. "Yeah, so I've been told. Need anything else?"

"No. Thanks again."

"Sure. Back to my school work, then."

"Uh huh."

* * *

Joan made it through dinner without her mind wandering too often to the revelations contained within Sean's M Club journal. There was still the chance it was fictional, but she had all but discounted that possibility. She prided herself on being rather open-minded about the whole thing, knowing full well that masturbating in front of others required a great deal of trust and confidence - both good things. That it had apparently extended beyond just Sean and his girlfriend, however, brought on a tinge of jealousy. How incredible to have such a group of friends.

She'd enjoyed a couple similar experiences in her younger days, being caught by Tom's roommate Colin while in compromising positions. She had fond memories, too, of intentionally letting the poor guy catch glimpses of her naked as she navigated between the bedroom and bathroom, or even kitchen. And then there was that one night after they'd been bar-hopping...

"Something on your mind, dear?"

Joan shook her head and realized she hadn't really been paying much attention to the television. She wiggled her toes to get Tom to resume the foot massage and sprawled back even further into the couch.

"Just thinking back on some of the things we did in college," she said.

Tom cocked an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Oh, like the time Colin walked in on us."

Tom grinned. "Which time?"

Joan recognized that hungry look in her husband. They'd fondly recalled several of those incidents over the years, with both professing it being something of a turn on.

"All of them, but especially the first, I guess." Colin had been out on a date that ended unexpectedly early. Tom and Joan, thinking they had more privacy, had been making out on the couch in their apartment. One thing led to another which led to Tom fucking her hard from behind while she was on all fours on the living room rug. They'd been loud enough not to hear the key in the door, but there had been no mistaking Colin's shocked gasp. Joan had been embarrassed, but Tom just said "don't mind us" and kept right on going. Colin beat a quick exit to his own room, but not without a lingering look. After he'd gone, Joan's shock turned to arousal and she had no qualms about letting Tom finish what they'd started.

"He still talks about that to this day," Tom said, chuckling.

"Ever ask for a repeat performance?" Joan knew it wouldn't happen as their friend had moved halfway across the country, but the idea was still fun.

Tom shook his head. "But I'm sure he wouldn't object. Especially seeing the way you look these days."

Joan always thought Tom exaggerated her looks, but she never minded his compliments. She worked hard to stay fit and knew how she turned eyes when in her yoga attire. She was especially aware of how much her husband appreciated it.

Taking advantage of having her feet in his lap, she rubbed up against his cock with the side of one foot. Sure enough, he was already hard. Tempting as it was to just go at it right here, the boys were both home. Getting caught by them wasn't quite the same as Tom's old roomie.

"No, I'm sure he wouldn't," she said. "Probably would have the same reaction you are."

"You do have that effect on me." Tom continued massaging one foot, but ran his other hand up her leg and between her thighs. Her yoga pants left little to the imagination and if they kept at this there might soon be a wet spot.

An idea came to her and she withdrew her legs just before his fingers reached their destination.

"Come to the bedroom," she said. "And bring the extra chair from the office."

Tom gave her a puzzled look, but he knew better than to question her. She hurried upstairs to the bedroom and turned on one of the nightstand lamps. Tom was moments behind her with the chair - an old wood one from a discarded dining set. He closed and locked the door and then set the chair about five feet from the edge of the bed at her direction.

"Playing musical chairs tonight?" he asked.

She smiled. "Tempting. Winner gets oral?"

Tom wiggled his eyebrows. "Sounds like a win-win to me."

Joan shook her head. "Nope. Boys are probably still awake, so can't make too much noise."

"So what then?"

"You, mister, get to sit in the chair." She added a hint of assertiveness to her voice. They often took turns being dominant and she wanted to establish the tone early. "Only rule is you have to keep your hands to yourself."

"I see." Tom sat on the chair as instructed and looked on eagerly.

Joan felt her heart pattering in anticipation. She liked the attention and loved it when infused with sexual energy. Having peeked in Sean's notebook had clearly sparked the latter in her tonight, so it seemed only fair to make some good come from her transgression.

She struck a solid pose in front of her husband, legs slightly parted and arms at her sides. Beyond the black yoga pants, she wore a red sports bra and a form-hugging white tank top. The bra did a respectable job of giving her girls a bit more lift and shape than they had on their own these days, and she kicked the festivities off by running her hands up her sides until she cupped them.

"What part of me gets you most turned on?"

Tom grinned. "Aside from your dirty mind? That'd be your fine, fine ass."

Joan gave him a mock pout. She had no problem with him complimenting her ass, and he'd been very consistent in admiring that for ages. But this was play. She wiggled her breasts. "Not my tits?"

"They're a very close second," he said diplomatically. "And win out when you're facing me."

She turned around and swayed her hips, then cupped her ass cheeks and gave them a good shaking. She looked over her shoulder and caught her husband adjusting himself in his shorts.

"Did I mention how fine you are?" he said.

"You might have mentioned it."

"Damn fine."

Joan hooked her thumbs in the waist band and teased the fabric down several inches - enough to reveal the black thong underneath where it disappeared between her cheeks. Tom moaned appreciatively and she swayed hypnotically from side to side.

"Sure I can't touch?"

She shook her head no and continued to peel the pants down. As the material cleared her crotch, she slowed down and bent over further to give him a view of her mound where the thong struggled to cover everything. Given her state of arousal, her labia was likely already swollen and he might be getting more of a view than she realized. No matter.

After a few more encouraging words from her husband, she worked the pants all the way off and kicked them aside. She let him take in her backside for a moment before turning around and giving him a look at the barely covered front. Tom made no effort to hide the bulge in his shorts and he was gripping the sides of his chair, likely just to keep his hands to himself.

"So, you didn't want to see my tits, right?"

Tom looked aghast. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, my mistake." Joan batted her eyes innocently.

Maintaining eye contact with Tom - and to his credit he kept his eyes mostly on hers - she slipped her tank top off in a smooth motion and cast it aside as well. The sports bra wasn't exactly a sexy compliment to the thong, but she knew her husband still appreciated the view. She slid her hands up underneath it and massaged both breasts, rubbing her palms across hard nipples.

"Lucky hands," Tom said.

"Yes, they are," she said.

Along with not being the sexiest of bras, there was no way to remove it in any sort of alluring manner. Extracting herself from it was more akin to removing a stubborn octopus. She turned her back to Tom during the process, hoping to distract him with some more ass.

Bra cast aside, Joan covered her breasts - each a respectable handful - and faced her eager husband. "You sure you want to see them? I could turn off the lights."

Tom rolled his eyes. "When have I ever not wanted to see them?"

"So predictable," she teased, removing her hands to let gravity assert control. She tweaked each nipple between her fingers, savoring the stimulation. "Mmmm...rather hard. I think I might be aroused."

"Really? I couldn't have guessed."

Joan slid her hands down the length of her toned torso, over her hips, and ultimately between her legs. She probed under the thong with one finger, making sure the process was visible to Tom, and ran it along the length of her slit.

"Oh yes, very aroused."

Tom swallowed hard but maintained his self-restraint. Joan decided to tease him further by withdrawing her finger and then sucking it clean.

"Fuck." Tom sounded almost in pain.

Joan winked at him. "Maybe later, thanks."

She again turned her back on him and bent over slightly. With delightfully agonizing patience, she worked her thong down until the last wisp of material clinging to her damp pussy pulled free. Dropping them the rest of the way to the floor, Joan kicked them aside and then leaned forward onto the bed. She spread her legs just enough to give her husband a very explicit view of everything.