Flying Monkey Express Ch. 01

Author's Forward:

Two described locations in the following work are fictitious: New Kent, a large city on the East Coast of the US somewhere between Boston, Massachusetts and Charleston, South Carolina, and Lutton, the seat of the equally nonexistent Quinn County in Kansas. I simply wanted settings that could be whatever I wanted without violating reality because I'm anal like that.

As always, all characters appearing in described sexual situations are over the age of 18. The female main character conceived and gave birth to the male main character before the age of 18 due to a sexual assault when she was not aware, conscious, or capable of resistance. Since this fact is central to her character and explanatory of her living situation, it will be mentioned in the story but not described, nor is it intended or written to be sexually titillating, and as such it does not violate the standards of Literotica. com.

Let's get this out of the way: this story takes its time. This story is an examination of how a mother and son who are not attracted to each other before the story move closer and eventually find intimacy unavoidable, with the attendant joys and difficulties it brings. As such, I lay out at length how they are at the beginning and why, and how and why they move together. There is sexual activity described in this chapter but most of it is not described in detail; sex, like anything else, is boring if too much of it is presented. Any complaints about how the story is "slow" or "needs more sex" or "why isn't he fucking his mom by page 3" will be ignored, as the people making those complaints obviously didn't read this preface. Later chapters will see much more, and more explicit, sex.

Also, geeky 18-year-olds would absolutely be talking in Brainrot much of the time, but I am too damned old to type "skibidi" more than once.

All persons, place, and situations appearing in this story are imaginary. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is a result of your diseased imagination.

Flying Monkey Express, Chapter 1

Wednesday, August 27

When Ethan Mitchell stepped into his family's kitchen that morning, he was quite literally dripping with sweat. The end of August in Kent City marked the middle of the dog days, when heat and humidity soared and the usual ocean winds failed; the result was long, sweltering days of unrelieved misery for anyone without the blessings of air conditioning. Fortunately the Mitchell family had air conditioning (and even more fortunately it was working for the moment, which wasn't always the case), so their small house was a reasonable oasis in a time of wretchedness.

He had been out for his daily run - it was best to do it in the early morning because it was cooler then, but also because it was the safest time for someone to be out alone on the streets. Their neighborhood, Suttonfield, was not one of the worst in the city, but it wasn't free from danger either, especially during economically precarious times. Still, he had never been accosted while running first thing in the morning - maybe creeps and thugs and assholes slept late.

He peeled off his tee shirt and wiped his chest with it just as his father walked into the room. His dad, Harley, was dressed for his latest job, which was as an office manager for a company called Pine Nut Wholesale - Ethan wasn't entirely sure what the company did, but his dad worked as a standard-issue cat-herder. "Hey, there you are," Harley said. "Good morning. Have fun?"

"It was a blast." A sharp-eared listener might have detected sarcasm in his tone. Ethan enjoyed running, but the kind of hard running he did most mornings was grueling and miserable in weather like this. "I think I should be able to do better in Track this year, though. Last year was pretty disappointing."

"Well, take a shower and get cleaned up. You need to be at the airport by 10:15, remember."

"I know. Have a good day, pop."

"You too," Harley said as he grabbed a Red Bull out of the fridge. "Hug your mom for me."

"I will." Seeing her would be a big deal: this would be the first time he'd seen his mother in eight months almost to the day. His Grandma - his mom's mom - had been in an automobile accident on the day after Christmas last year and his mom, Brianna, had flown back to her hometown in Kansas to take care of her. What had begun as a six-week trip had morphed into a multi-month endurance contest, since grandma's recuperation was slow and Brianna felt obligated to stay and help her through it.

Ethan didn't envy her a bit. Lutton, Kansas was a shithole of the worst sort and it was filled with terrible memories for her as well as for Harley, which was why they almost never visited. Ethan had lived there his first three years but remembered almost nothing from that time; in all the years since, they had gone back as a family just once, when Ethan was 10, and that trip had been filled with wretchedness and violence. He never wanted to go back.

He took a shower and then a leisurely breakfast and plenty of time to scroll through his socials, which made a relaxing change from how he'd spent his summer. He'd just gotten back himself three days before, so little things like unlimited internet time still seemed like tremendous luxuries. He wasn't complaining - his summer at his Aunt Tina's and Uncle Jim's farm had done him a world of good in every way - but you only really appreciate your creature comforts after you'd lost them for a while.

By 9:00 he was in his car - well, more accurately he was in his mom's nine-year-old Ford Escape, since that was the only vehicle available to him - and heading east. The airport was basically a twelve-mile straight shot into the suburbs, since the entrance to the highway was barely a half-mile from the Mitchell front door. Still, Highway 77 was torn up for construction (as always) and most of the drive would be spent either moving slowly or not moving at all, so getting an early start was necessary. He put on his sunglasses, commanded Spotify to commence a driving music playlist, and headed off.

Traveling slowly on a highway affords one a good chance to think, and he had a lot to think about. His senior year of high school was right around the corner - just six days hence - and since he had changed a lot over the summer, he was looking forward to seeing if life would be better or worse. Simply put, he was a computer geek, and while school work had always come easy, the social aspect had opened him to bullying and ostracization from most of his peers. He had five very good, very nerdy friends who had been together as a group for six years now, but he had never made any inroads into other cliques. Maybe - maybe - that would change this year, if he wanted it to.

Another thing he was looking forward to was getting some free time. For the past three years, he'd spent every spare second (and then some) on a game he was making, which had started out as a lark at computer camp, a way to learn to program better and nothing more. But it had captured his attention and had gotten bigger and bigger as time went by, until it had turned into his white whale. He'd even roped in his two best friends, Vincent and Olinka, to help. He had done the lion's share of the work on it, but Olinka had polished the graphics and Vincent had spent the summer troubleshooting it from feedback gained from a small playtest they'd run for members of an online coding community they were part of. They were planning to put it up for sale in various store when it was done, but he expected nobody but friends and family to buy it. It didn't matter - Ethan just wanted it on his high school resume and, from there, in his rear-view mirror. He wanted his life back.

Up ahead, a car had broken down in the center lane and brought progress to a standstill. A state highway patrolman worked his way slowly up the shoulder to try to do something about it, but meanwhile there was nothing for Ethan to do but wait.

He couldn't help but wonder how his mom's summer had been. They'd had little contact between the end of December and the beginning of June, because Grandma Jenkins's home was a couple miles outside of a little town with rotten cell coverage, which meant that texts and emails only got sent when Brianna had gone into town; after the beginning of June, when Ethan had gone to his own summer spot, they'd barely communicated at all. He was pretty sure it had been a lousy summer for her, because Lutton was fucking awful.

His mom's father, Grandpa Jenkins, had run a feed & seed store in town until the economy collapsed; fortunately, he'd invested wisely and had enough money to maintain a sort of genteel poverty after his store went under. He'd managed to keep the house to make sure there was a roof over the heads of Grandma Jenkins, Brianna, and Brianna's older sister Tina. Grandpa Jenkins had died six years ago - his funeral was the cause of Ethan's only trip back to Lutton - and what few memories Ethan had of him from the odd video call and the couple of times his grandparents had come to New Kent to visit were of a profoundly conservative man, distrustful of outsiders and their ways (in spite of the fact that his own preferred way of life had collapsed utterly), and full of aphorisms about the virtue of thrift and savings and wisdom with money. Ethan had never thought he'd been a lovable sort of grandfather, an attitude that he'd no doubt picked up from Brianna's lingering resentment of her father.

The truth was, Ethan didn't know much about either of his parents' families or the lives they lived before moving to New Kent, which was definitely how his parents wanted it. What little he did know had been stitched together from occasional vague mentions by his parents, greatly supplemented by his Aunt Tina over this past summer. He knew that Brianna had been raised to be a fervent, unquestioning Southern Baptist (which was amusing since it would now take a gun to Brianna's head to get her into church for anything but a wedding or a funeral) and she had been a good student, primarily with a focus on learning enough to run a household as a traditional wife for her eventual husband. All-in-all, the Jenkins' were one of the most respected families in a very conservative town, and Brianna looked to be a pea in the pod.

Not so the Mitchells. His father had come from a dissolute and debauched family with a generations-long history of criminality and ne'er-do-wellism. Grandpa Mitchell had died of a drug overdose long before Ethan was born, and Grandma Mitchell was doing a twenty-year stretch in state prison for attempted murder of a police officer who came to raid her drug stash. His dad had brothers and sisters too, but Ethan only knew about two of them: Uncle Joe, a career criminal currently on the run, whereabouts unknown (with whom Ethan and his father had had a very unpleasant run-in during their trip back to town) and Uncle Deacon, called Deke, who had been sent to prison for armed robbery, escaped, and went on a tri-state killing spree before the cops shot him down like a mad dog in a convenience store outside of Tulsa.

And that, really, was all he knew about his ancestors and relations. His parents had gotten together after his mom had become pregnant under circumstances neither one would discuss (Aunt Tina had also refused to go into it, saying only that neither his mom nor his dad had been conscious when he was conceived - he didn't understand how that was possible, and Tina had refused to explain). Their marriage had never been a warm one and he wasn't even sure his parents loved each other in the traditional sense: his mom had always respected and honored his dad for sticking by her when Ethan was born, saying only that he had assumed responsibility when nobody expected him to, while his father had steadily grown more distant from his wife and especially his son as time had gone on. Harley and Brianna were friendly with each other and seldom argued, but there seemed to be no heat, no passion, and little to keep them together apart from the fact that a married couple could live more cheaply than two people on their own.

Even as his dad had steadily and slowly drawn away for reasons he never understood, Ethan had remained close to his mother. She was a shy, awkward woman who had never gotten over having him so young - her social skills had never really developed and she was uncomfortable talking to people. He'd always suspected that her weight problems contributed to that as well, since she carried around eighty extra pounds on a frame that was barely five feet, two inches tall. Her hair was the shade of light brown that might almost be said to be no color at all, and she wore it in a long style that fell easily across her face, letting her hide behind it. He'd always thought it perfect that she worked as a librarian in the city library system - although he'd heard that she was very outgoing with the child patrons, who loved her in return, he couldn't imagine the same was true of adults who went there. She seemed the sort of person who desired nothing more than to drift through life unnoticed.

Of all the things he'd missed that summer - home, his friends, the internet, working on his game - he'd missed his mom the most. In some ways they were very alike: both smart, both intellectual, both funny (though she only showed her sense of humor to him and a couple of her close friends), both victims of severe school bullying because of things outside of their control. Many had been the day when he'd carried home his bruises, mostly emotional but sometimes physical, to be comforted by her. She always worked her ass off too, always taking care of the cooking and the housework even when she was in school full time, or, later, at the library full time. As he'd gotten older and some of his friendships deepened, he had relied more on them as emotional supports, but he'd never lost his appreciation for his mom and for everything she did.

In spite of his parents' resolute efforts keep the details of their early lives secret from him, but he knew that they were both still in high school (and his mother was only a freshman) when he was born. Early on, he'd picked up hints that their lives - especially his mom's life - had been very difficult because of him. Aunt Tina had filled some of that in for him over the summer in a brief exchange where she told him that after Brianna had gotten pregnant with him, her life had consisted of school, homework, childcare, help with housework, and school the next day, broken only by the Sundays when her parents would drag her to church to pray for redemption for her soul, which was soiled by being the survivor of a sexual assault.

Driving in the airport was a pain in the ass - you always seemed to be in exactly the wrong lane to get where you needed to go. Eventually, though, he found a spot in one of the parking lots and caught a shuttle to the gate where his mom's American Airlines flight would disembark. He had almost half an hour - he would make it easily. As he waited, he wondered if his mother would even recognize him - after all, he had a changed a lot over the summer.

*

Somewhere a hundred miles inland, Brianna Mitchell sat looking out the window of her airplane, seeing land and clouds pass by. It had been a very, very long eight months since she had been home. She was desperate for the embrace of normalcy.

Her mother had been very badly injured when the car she was driving got T-boned by a truck carrying a couple thousand live chickens, and she'd desperately needed someone there around the clock to help her, especially for the first few months. That meant either Brianna or her sister Tina had to go be the attendant; both were in precarious financial situations, but Tina had two underaged children at home and several small businesses to help run, which left it up to Brianna. They'd settled up by Tina taking in Ethan for the summer (eighteen-year-old boys ate enough for several ordinary people) and covering Brianna's half of the mortgage payment on the house in New Kent.

Still, Brianna hadn't wanted to go. Her relationship with her mother had been strained since Brianna had become pregnant by means of rape, and the thought of spending months cooped up together was excruciating. It turned out, though, that her mom had mellowed a lot in the six years since Brianna's dad had died of cancer, and that aspect of the trip was more tolerable than she'd expected it to be.

All those horrible people who'd made her life miserable when she was young, who'd taunted and pilloried her for being an unmarried teen mother knocked up by someone from the worst family in the county - they were all still stuck there: drunks, tweakers, junkies, either criminals or living off the largesse of a Federal government they constantly professed hatred for. You could smell the misery-stink of the dying town by driving through it with your windows rolled up. And there she was, the derided one, the scorned one, the one who was everyone's target - and the one who'd gotten away from it all to have a decent career in a place far away, with a stable marriage that every single person there had assured her wouldn't last a year. She'd showed them, and she loved rubbing their hateful little piggy noses in it, just like she loved getting better right before their disbelieving eyes.

Still, just existing in that milieu for eight months had been hard on her soul. She'd missed her job at the library, she'd missed her own bed, she'd missed being able to watch what she wanted on TV, she'd missed home. She'd missed her husband Harley, a good and decent man who was a friend and a life-partner. Most of all, though, she missed her little boy.

Of course, Ethan wasn't a little boy anymore, he was eighteen years old - she'd also missed his birthday, since she'd been stuck in Kansas and he'd been at her sister Tina's farm in Indiana - but he was still little. He'd always been small, the smallest boy in his class, short and skinny, with a head that looked like it belonged to a bigger kid. She adored her little stringbean, as she called him, and she had always admired his mind and his drive; he learned quickly in anything he lent himself to, and he had the will to carry through to the end whatever he started.

His will was the only sticking point, really, because ever since he was little he was extraordinarily... well, stubborn wasn't quite the right word. He certainly never threw a tantrum after he outgrew the Terrible Twos. He had simply always known what he wanted and was always willing to ask for it and, if necessary, pursue it. At first she had done her best to enforce her will and make sure Ethan toed the line, but over time she grew to trust him and let him have his way more and more often. He never asked for anything extravagant, never abused the trust she placed in him, and was anything but a spoiled brat - he simply had a good head on his shoulders from a very young age, coupled with a good heart and a caring nature. By the time he entered high school he already seemed to possess more emotional adeptness and awareness than she had today. It was just better to follow his lead on things that directly concerned him, and she became comfortable ceding that control to him. By the time she'd left for her Kansas sojourn, she had more faith in her son than in anyone else in the world, possibly including herself.

She only wished that Harley had as good a relationship with Ethan as she did. Up until the time Ethan was seven or eight, they'd been very close - they'd loved to spend time together, and Harley played with him and helped him with his homework. Then Harley had started to draw away because of other things going on in his life and the depression those things caused. Ethan had been so hurt when the daddy he loved began doing less and less with him, and he was too young to understand why his father was so sad and why nothing he did seemed to help.

The last tipping point came when they'd gone back to Lutton for her father's funeral when Ethan was twelve: Harley got into an argument with his criminal jackass of a brother Joe, which turned into a physical fight in which Joe (who had five inches and about thirty pounds of muscle on his brother) beat Harley to a bloody pulp. In fact, Joe might have killed Harley had not Ethan begun wailing on his uncle with an aluminum baseball bat - even a sixty-pound kid could do some serious damage swinging a long piece of metal into a grown man's skull, knees, kidneys, arms, and balls. The Sheriff kindly locked Joe up for a few days until Harley, Brianna, and Ethan had left for home. She had expected Harley to be grateful to Ethan for saving his life, but he seemed to feel far more humiliation at being saved by a four-foot-tall twelve-year-old than he did gratitude, and he'd grown even more distant from his only child. When she'd left back in December, their relationship was more that of polite roommates than father and son.

"May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen," came the voice of the pilot over the intercom. "We will shortly begin our descent to New Kent International Airport. Please gather all personal belongings, secure your laptop and any devices, return your seat backs and trays to the upright position..."

Flying was a novelty to Brianna - her family didn't have enough money for it except in extraordinary circumstances - but she did know this routine. She gathered her things and did all the other necessaries, and soon she was looking out her window at the ground below. They had swung out over the Atlantic for their approach to the airport, and she could see the long, blue finger of St. Alcuin Sound pointing inland at the distant city. Her stomach tingled. She was almost home.

The male flight attendant came by to check that things were as they ought to be. He was terribly cute in a sophisticated, debonair kind of way, just the sort of man the heroine of a cheap, tawdry romance novel would fall for, or at least have a steamy liaison with. Those kinds of thoughts occurred to her from time to time and she never knew why, since sex wasn't worth the effort. She'd read about people loving sex, about it being transcendent, amazing, breathtaking, about orgasms and how they were supposed to curl one's toes, and her best friend Lauren was always talking about great sex she had. Brianna and Harley hadn't had sex in years now, but when they used to do it she never came anywhere close to one of those climaxes people were always claiming to have. Lauren always told her it was Harley's fault, but that seemed like nonsense. If orgasms really happened (and she wasn't certain they did) then she was just one of those people who couldn't have them - if she could, she would have experienced one by now. QED.

Still, it was fun to think about kissing a hot guy, or maybe even more, even if it wouldn't be nearly as good as people pretended it was. She had certainly liked how that flight attendant had looked at her, anyway. It was all just a silly fantasy though - she was married, and sex was neither good enough nor important enough to risk the stable life she'd built with Harley.

The landing went smoothly, and as she gathered her things the pilot told them about the weather (102 degrees, high humidity, heat warning in effect - in other words, normal late-August New Kent weather). As the plane taxied to the gate, she texted Harley that she had landed safely and that she had a big surprise for him (understatement of the year). By now she was smiling uncontrollably - she was almost home, and her beloved little stringbean was waiting to pick her up. As she walked from the plane into the terminal, she wondered if her son would even recognize her - after all, she had a changed a lot over the summer.

*

Ethan hated airports. While he'd been waiting for his mom's plane to arrive, a Karen had pitched a screaming fit that he could hear from half a concourse away, and eventually she had punched someone and was hauled off in handcuffs, still swearing. Places like this brought out the worst in people.

Still, there was good people-watching in an airport. It was a slice-of-humanity place, and he amused himself for a while by picking out a random traveler and trying to deduce from their expression and body language why they were traveling; usually his mind spun it into something absurd, like this guy being a corporate spy out to steal a new instant cake recipe or that woman being too afraid to go home because of the evil snails that lived in her kitchen cabinets. It kept him occupied until he heard his mom's flight number being called, whereupon he stood up from his chair and wandered over to the arrival gate, watching for her.

Apparently the flight had been packed because a whole bunch of people got off, and exactly none of them were his mother. There were a trio of giggling middle-aged women who were obvious tourists, a gaggle of besuited men and women looking at their phones, two Air Force airmen in fatigues, a very old man with a cane, even a man who looked to top seven feet in height, but no short, obese, frumpy, 32-year-old brunette in baggy clothes.

Someone else caught his eye, though: a very hot, tanned woman who looked to be in her mid-20s with an eye-catching haircut - shaved on the left side, bra-length on the right, dyed magenta with fuschia highlights. She wore a tight, scoop-necked white top that showed off her small breasts, a fluffy, red summer skirt that didn't reach the knees of her long legs, and a sexy pair of ankle-high gladiator sandals. Even from where he was, he could see the glitter of a golden ring in her right nostril. He wasn't quite sure what it was about her, because from an objective standpoint the model-looking brunette who had entered the concourse with her was hotter; there was something, though, that drew his eye and made a porno movie starring the two of them play through his mind. From the moment he laid eyes on her, everyone else seemed to fade from his awareness. She was perfect for him - and she was looking at him with a thirsty expression too.

At that same moment, Brianna was looking for her little mop-top stringbean son and having no luck. It wasn't as though there were that many people waiting there, and half the ones who were there were limo drivers sent to pick up business travelers. The remainder consisted of a middle-aged man currently hugging his returning daughter, a woman with two small kids (both of whom were screaming Daddy! and sprinting toward one of the airmen) and -

And one of the hottest men she had ever laid eyes on. He was six-foot two, with a deep tan, dark brown hair done in a short, spiky quiff and a five-o'clock shadow beard. He wore a tight, colorful tee that clung to lean, hard muscles and a pair of slightly baggy gray shorts that tickled the tops of his kneecaps. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of round-frame sunglasses that made him look like a sexy secret agent. Of its own volition, her mind took her to an incredibly hot sex scene she'd read once, where a man and a woman met in a train station and he simply took her hand, led her into the rest room, and pounded her like a savage against the wall; in that instant, she placed herself in that fictional woman's place with this young stud. Not only that, but he was checking her out as hard as she was checking him.

Ethan recognized her just an instant before Brianna recognized him, and his tan deepened into a mauve flush of shame just as hers faded into a pasty-gray mask of shame: the shame twins. For an instant they simply stared at each other in dismay, desperately hoping that the hungry lust they'd had on their faces hadn't been recognized as such by the other. But then he was bounding forward and so was she, and they met in the middle in a huge hug that saw her no-longer-tiny son wrap his strong arms around his no-longer-obese mom and squeeze. Then came the laughter and the shock.

"Oh my god, I didn't even recognize you!"

"Me neither! You've changed so much!"

"You're like a completely different person!"

"So are you! Jeez, let me look at you."

They stepped back to arms length and looked each other up and down, now appraising rather than lustful.

"How the hell did you get so tall?"

"I'd started my growth streak before you left, remember?"

"Well yeah, but I figured you'd be five-seven or five-eight, not a giant!"

"I think I'm eight or nine inches taller than the last time you saw me, so yeah. But you lost like half your body weight!"

"Eighty pounds," she replied proudly. "I ran my butt off, literally. Where did you get all those muscles?"

"Once I started growing, I started lifting. And then when I got to Uncle Jim's and Aunt Tina's farm, they had me doing heavy labor all day, every day. But... your hair? And you got your nostril pierced!"

Now it was Brianna's turn to blush. "It was stupid. I took yesterday to go to Kansas City and just decompress before I came home. I thought I'd get a new haircut to, you know, celebrate the new me. The girl at the salon was... well, she was super persuasive. I know I look like an idiot, I'll get rid of the ring and get my hair back to normal."

"What? No! You look awesome!"

Her blush deepened. "Don't make fun of me, it was just a dumb mistake."

"I'm not making fun of you. You genuinely look fantastic. It suits your skinny new body and it makes you look a lot younger."

Brianna wasn't old by any means, but what over-thirty woman wouldn't want to be told her new haircut made her look much younger? She bit her lip and said, "Well, if you... you aren't messing with me, are you? Because I feel stupid enough as it is."

"Mom, you look great," he said. "I love you like this."

There was something in the way he said it that made her feel a little fluttery in a way she'd never experienced before. It was nice to get a compliment from a young man, even if it was only from her son. Her blush got just about as deep as it could go as she asked, "Do you think I should keep it?"

"I think you have to keep all of it. The cut, the color, the ring. Heck, the clothes too - I had no idea your legs were that long."

"Carrying as much extra weight as I was carrying makes your legs look stumpy. Anyway, let's get my bags and get on the road. I want to be able to take a bath in my own tub before your dad gets home."

He remembered once when he couldn't have been more than five or six and he walked in on his mom just getting out of the bath, and his impression then had been one of roundness; it occurred to him that all that roundness was gone today and she would present a very different picture in the bath now! He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a thoroughly appropriate filial kiss on the side of the head. "Right, give me your carry-on, shorty."

"Hey!" she laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. "Just because you went all Paul Bunyan on me over the summer doesn't mean you get to call me short!"

"Li'l Mama it is, then," he said cheerfully as they walked toward baggage claim.

She just laughed and snuggled against her son. Before when she did that, she was basically his height and double his weight, but now she seemed tiny next to him. She could feel his muscles through his shirt, and they felt... nice. It was a pleasant thing to be hugged by a big, strong man.

Retrieval of her luggage took almost no time, and soon they were headed toward the exit to pick up a shuttle. She asked how it had gone, staying with his aunt and uncle, and his reply was, "Great! I've got a ton to tell you about" before he changed the subject to her and kept it there.

She talked about the initial rockiness of the first dozen days, when she had had to do every single thing for her mom, from emptying bedpans and adjusting her pillows, and all while Grandma was swinging between being cranky because of the extreme pain she was in, and being doped to the gills and not making a lick of sense. "I didn't get much sleep then. It was worse than you when you had colic."

"I never had colic!" he exclaimed with a smile. "I was a perfect little angel."

"Riiight, that's why I spent so many college school nights trying to rock you to sleep. I was wondering." She went on to explain how things had gotten better as her mom's painful bruises and swelling had gone down, and they had settled into a reasonable modus vivendi.

"What's a modus vivendi?"

"It's when the party of the first part and the party of the second part, who would normally tear each other to smaller parts, adopt a temporary solution to keep all their parts in place."

He smiled. His mom was a smart woman who was always reading and forever pulling out terms he had never heard of. "I'm glad you found one of those. It would have been rough without it."

"It would have. But once she got over the worst of it, she was actually pretty nice - at least if we grade her on a sliding scale. She was on her best behavior, anyway."

"And how did you lose all this weight?"

"I ate a lot less, did lots of stuff around the house that had needed doing since my dad got sick, and took a page out of your book."

"My book?"

"Yeah, I ran like a fiend, every day no matter the weather. Blizzards, heat waves, Arctic blasts, torrential rainstorms - I even ran when there were tornado watches."

"Dang, what prompted that?"

Brianna considered before answering; there were lots of things about her relationship with the people of Lutton that he didn't need to know. Finally she said, "I saw the people there, people I used to know. It's bad there, and those people are in bad shape. I wanted to prove to them that I was better than that town, and that I could make myself better still. They all called me pretty terrible things on account of my weight, but I'd shut every one of their mouths by the time I left."

"Health for spite. I like it."

"It wasn't just that!" she chuckled. "That town made me the version of myself that you've known your whole life. I mean... I mean, I let that town and those people define me for years after I left there. By losing weight, I could prove to myself that I wasn't carrying around all those bad old thoughts, all those scars from what happened there. I could be lighter of spirit, not just lighter of body. It was like... this is going to sound stupid or pretentious or whatever, but it was like I'd spent my life in a cocoon and it was time to be a butterfly."

"Good for you! A pretty purple butterfly."

"Stop teasing me about my hair!"

"I'm not teasing. Your hair suits you perfectly, and you really are a pretty woman. I never saw it until now."

She thought back to the frankly carnal look he'd given her before he recognized her at the airport and blushed again. "Well... thank you. I really appreciate the compliment."

"I think you'd better get used to getting compliments. Everyone who knows you is going to rave."

"Oh hush, they are not!" she said. But the idea that they might was thrilling - she'd never been the cute one, the hot one, the one guys looked at; maybe now she would get some small part of the admiration she saw other women heaped with. She imagined walking through a store and having guys crane their necks to look at her as she passed... it was a very enticing image, even though it would never go any further.

After all, Ethan really liked what he saw before he recognized me.

The thought was fully formed before she realized it, and when she did realize it she felt dirty. With a mental shake of her head, she turned her attention back to her son, only to realize that he was looking at her expectantly. "Huh?"

He laughed. "I said, there's a guy on the shuttle now who's checking you out. No, don't look! He'll take it as an invitation and make a move and then I'll have to kick his ass and I'll go to prison and come out all covered in pen-ink tattoos."

"We can't have that! If my stringbean gets tattoos, they'd better be pretty."

He arched an eyebrow. "I thought you said no tattoos?"

"Honey, you asked for one when you were seven, of course I said no. But you're eighteen now, you can do whatever you want. I just want my son to look good, so any tattoos you get should look good too."

He smiled. He was fully aware of that and his mom's disapproval would not have stopped him from getting any body art he wanted, but it was nice to hear her say it. "How about you? Are you getting inked to go with your new image?"

"Me? Oh no! That's a step too far for me. I'll keep my skin pristine."

"Are you sure? Your new image screams out for some tats."

"That is sooooo not me," she insisted as the trolley pulled to a halt and she arose from her seat. "I can't believe I did all this, and I'm still tempted to undo it no matter what you say. But hair and a nose ring is temporary - a tattoo is permanent and scary. Besides, it's not like we have the money for frivolous expenses like that."

"You just don't like needles," he taunted, following her out the door with her two heaviest suitcases in hand.

"You're right about that. Where'd you park? Oh, there it is."

"You want to drive? Since it's your car and all."

"No no, I want my tall, capable son to be my chauffeur. It makes a nice change, because you could barely see over the dashboard before I left."

"I was already like two inches taller than you when you went to Grandma's, remember?"

"Hmmph. Don't bother me with facts."

Ethan tossed the luggage in the back, and when he climbed into the driver's seat he saw his mother on the other side of the car, looking a bit puzzled as she felt around her immediate surroundings. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just it feels so different. I'm like half as big as I was when I was last inside this car, and it just feels weird."

"Good weird, I hope."

"Yeah, I mean, I guess." She frowned. "I didn't tell your father about my changes either. I mentioned once that I was losing a little weight, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I'm sure he will be surprised, and not just about that."

She made a sound that might have been amusement. "I got up in the middle of the night last night to pee, and when I saw my purple-haired reflection in the mirror I thought someone else was in there with me and I just about screamed. I don't know how long it's going to take me to get used to looking like this, but I bet it's going to take your dad longer. I probably should have warned him."

"He won't be home until six," Ethan replied. "You have time to send him a message telling him to be prepared for a shock."

"I suppose so." She paused, then asked, "Do you think he'll like it?"

As Ethan saw it, there were two possibilities: either his dad would shit a brick, or he wouldn't give a damn one way or the other. Liking it seemed out of the question. "Well... remember, you didn't do it for him, you did it for yourself. You look amazing, like a whole different person. I love the way you look. Do you?"

She frowned and flipped down the passenger side sun visor to look in the makeup mirror. "I mean... OK, it's still shocking when I see it, but when I get used to it... yeah, I think I'll like it a lot."

The truth was, she'd been inclined to change it back as soon as possible, but her son's enthusiastic reaction made her reconsider. Maybe it didn't matter so much if Harley liked it or if he didn't, just so long as she and Ethan did. Ethan's reaction was actually quite thrilling, in a way she couldn't quite place; undoubtedly it must have been the unaccustomed sensation of being thought cool by her teenage son - Ethan had always adored her and his friends liked her, but nobody would ever have accused her of being "the cool mom." Maybe that would change now too.

Once they got out of the parking lot and on to the road, Hannnah decided she had had enough talking about herself for a little while, especially given that her little stringbean had been replaced by a tall, strong (hot) man. "So tell me about what's been going on with you since I left."

"I'm pretty sure I told you I got straight A's last year, right? Oh, thanks. Anyway, academically there was no problem, but my times started slipping pretty badly in track." All through high school his primary event had been the 3,200-meter run, because he wasn't much of a sprinter but even as a skinny twerp he'd had good endurance. "My body was changing so fast with that growth spurt that everything was awkward. I started working out more in the gym after school, so that was fun. Oh, and right before I left for Indiana I finished Flying Monkey Express and handed it over to Vincent to run the playtest over the summer."

"You finished it?" Brianna asked excitedly. "That's amazing! Congratulations!"

"Thanks. It's a load off. Vincent says the playtest has gone surprisingly well, except for people playing it on Linux systems, and what can you do about those loonies?"

"I have no idea," Brianna answered. She knew enough about computers to assist the electronically-illiterate people who asked for help with the library machines, but that was about all. "How's Vincent?"

"The same as always, a big smart-ass."

"Language."

"Sorry, a large smart-ass."

"Better." She had always liked Vincent the best of his group of friends. He parents were from Honduras but he was a New Kent kid born and raised, to the extent that it was almost impossible to imagine him in any other setting - even imagining him in one of the inner-ring suburbs took effort. He was smart, incisive, funny, sweet, and generous, much liked both within and without his group; a lot of that, she thought, was because he had always had a weight problem and early on he decided to adopt the role of "jolly fat kid," and as someone who'd had a severe weight problem since she was 13 years old, she identified with him. "So you're on track to release or whatever?"

"Pretty much," he nodded. "Chasing bugs is an inherently unpredictable activity, but pretty soon we'll be ready to put the game up for sale."

"And how's Olinka?" Olinka Mazur was the other friend of his whom he had working on the game. Brianna liked her too. They'd had a rocky start, because when Olinka and Ethan had become friends back in fourth grade, Olinka was a snarly troublemaker called Thomas who was a miserable little shit. Late in her fifth-grade year, she'd manage to convince her forward-thinking parents of what she'd always known: she wasn't meant to be a boy. Her parents started her on the path to transitioning, and like throwing a switch, Olinka became the sweetest, most loving little girl you could imagine. It was amazing what wonders being recognized and accepted as who you really were could work.

"Good. Real good, in fact. She has a boyfriend."

"Oh no way, anyone I know?"

"A guy named Nahum Gardner. He's nice. He's on the math team."

"Good for her. What kind of name is Nahum?"

"Um, Hebrew, I think, like a Bible name? He's African-American though."

"You know she's always had a crush on you, right?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, you never noticed how she looked at you, how she laughed at all your jokes, how she played with her hair when she talked to you?"

"I... no?"

"Boys," she snorted. "I have no idea how you creatures make it through life being as oblivious as you are."

"Huh." Pause. "Well I'll be darned, I didn't think any girls liked me that way."

"I always thought you two would make a cute couple. Oh, and by the way? Girls are going to love you this year."

To her very great surprise, her son didn't even blush. He just smiled and said, "Yeah, some will. Anyway, once I got to the farm, they ran me ragged. Every waking moment they had me doing something. If I wasn't helping Uncle Jim with farm work, I was helping with the petting zoo, or doing tree maintenance in the orchard, or helping Aunt Tina in the kitchen - "

"Wait, wait, wait, you? In the kitchen?"

"Yeah, Uncle Jim says that every man ought to know how to cook good meals for himself because there won't always be someone around to do it for him. I helped Aunt Tina almost every night. I learned a lot too."

"I'll have to see that to believe it."

"You will see it, I'm making a welcome-home dinner for you tonight."

She arched an eyebrow. "What are you making?"

"It's called Wait And See Surprise."

"OK, OK, fine. Whatever it is, I'll eat it and be grateful. I expected we'd just get takeout tonight, but someone making me a home-cooked meal is even better." And best of all, this would be the first time a proper dinner had been cooked in their house without her doing the cooking - Harley was allergic to everything in that room except the refrigerator.

"I think you'll like it. Anyway, I went to bed exhausted and sore every night. I think that's where most of these muscles came from, because every single one of them got a workout seven days a week."

"Farm living is strenuous," she nodded. "I never had the desire myself. So how's my sister and her family?"

"Great. Aunt Tina is a blast and I learned so much from Uncle Jim. Emily was back over the summer, but she'd gone back to Indiana State now to finish her electrical engineering bachelor's. Ed's only 16 but he's an offensive lineman for his school - he's way bigger than I am, you won't believe the pictures, he's like a mountain in cleats. Dolf is a great kid, and you should see him with the animals at the petting zoo - they all love him to death, and he's just a wizard with them." At 14, Dolf (short for Rudolf) had been born with an intellectual disability and was in special education classes, but he was a loving, outgoing young man who had many friends and was popular with kids both in and out of special ed - and anyone who gave him problems would have to take it up with the huge and extremely protective Ed, who solved the problems quickly and directly; that was, perhaps, Ed's only redeeming character trait.

"You can't have spent all your time on the farm. Did you have any fun?"

"We went into Fort Wayne a few times, and we took a couple of day trips to water parks. Oh, and there's a swimming hole not far from the house where all the area kids hang out, we spent a lot of evenings there."

Growing up where she did, Brianna was more than familiar with rural swimming holes... and what kids got up to there. "I hope you behaved yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah. I mean a few times I might have had too many beers and had a hard time keeping the bicycle going straight on the way home, but I never swam drunk."

Brianna hid her frown. Early teenage drinking was what had led her to become an early teenage mom, and she didn't want her boy to follow the same path. But Ethan was a smart, self-possessed boy - vastly more self-possessed than she had been during her few teen drinking experiences - and if he said he didn't do anything foolish, then she believed him. Still... "I don't like you drinking at your age. It's illegal. If the police had found you there, you could have gotten in a lot of trouble."

"Ha! We always had a six-pack on ice for the deputies. They'd swing by, pick it up, and leave."

Admittedly, that did sound like rural law enforcement. She prodded him into telling some stories from his time on the farm, and he obliged: the time he accidentally got silage dumped on him and reeked for two days in spite of repeated baths, the time the goat at the petting zoo had chased a drunken, taunting asshole around the corral until Ed had bodily picked the man up and tossed him effortlessly over the fence with a warning not to return, the family game nights that happened three or four times a week, the fact that he had slept in the spare bedroom next to Tina and Jim's room and they had frequently kept him up with their... activities (something he found as amusing as Brianna found mortifying), the time at the swimming hole when the little grill they had there had tipped hot coals and caught one of the boys' shirts on fire and he'd waved it around like a blazing emblem while doing a booty dance and singing "Not Like Us."

Brianna loved hearing about her son's summer, but the stories about him hanging around with other kids and just being a teenager hit hard. She'd been allowed none of that, going from being a fresh-into high-school kid to a mom and a shut-in. It gave her Ethan and led to a decent life far away from Kansas (not that anyone was ever far enough from Kansas) but still, she'd missed so much that most people just took for granted. Every other girl in her high school who got pregnant before graduation (and, given that sex ed consisted of ineffective warnings to kids to ignore their raging hormones, and contraceptives were unobtainable, it was a lot of girls) got to go out more than she did. Her father had locked her up like a prisoner for her entire high school career.

The trip back into town was much faster than the trip to the airport, barely twenty minutes, and soon they were getting off the highway in their neighborhood. Brianna sighed with pleasure as they passed the familiar gas stations and houses. Suttonfield wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was home - and it was so much better than Lutton that it might as well have been on another planet. As they passed a hole-in-the-wall Italian place she liked, she asked, "Want to stop for lunch?"

"No, you're going home and taking that bath you talked about," he said firmly. "I am making you lunch."

"Oh honey, you don't have to do that! You're already making dinner tonight."

"I don't remember too many times when you told me you wouldn't make me lunch because you were making dinner that same day. Hush now, let me take care of you."

She blushed deeply but did as she was told. He had always stood sternly for what he believed and wanted, but now it was different, more... commanding? Powerful? And he cooked! He was going to make some girl very, very happy.

Her heart jumped into her throat a moment later when she laid eyes on her own house. It wasn't the best house, but she and Harley had put so much sweat into that place over the years that it was well and truly home.

It had been dumb luck that they'd gotten it in the first place, because a guy just starting out in business with a wife in college and a kid shouldn't have been able to afford a house at all. However, the property they'd bought had been a drug house and was thoroughly destroyed inside, it was small and old, it was in an undesirable spot on a tiny and oddly-shaped lot, and just then the renovation market had dropped through the floor for some reason. They'd outbid a lowballing bank at a county auction and spent the next several years pouring every second of their time and every spare penny (and there weren't many!) into fixing the place up. It had been the skills she'd learned from that experience that had allowed her to do the much-needed repairs around her old family home over the summer, which had in turn helped her to lose weight and tone up.

Back into the garage they went, and as soon as the car stopped, Brianna opened her door and took a deep whiff of the familiar, slightly musty air. She smelled the motor oil spills on the floor, the stocks of cat food and kitty litter, the gasoline in the can for the lawnmower - Heaven. Standing up, she asked, "How's Licorice?"

"He's been a sad black spot. He's gonna go nuts when he sees you. Go on, get in the house, I'll get the bags."

Brianna found herself smiling at her son's commanding tone. It was one thing hearing it from a rail-thin 5' 4" boy, but it was quite something else hearing it from the 6' 2" man he had become. His voice was just another thing about him that the girls were going to adore this year. She did as she was told once more, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar hallway that ran almost the width of their small house. To the right were the laundry and the kitchen, to the left the combined living room and dining room, and straight ahead were the two bedrooms and the guest bath. She simply stopped and breathed deep the air of home - nothing had changed, and that was exactly how she wanted it.

Setting her purse down, she called, "Licorice!" A few seconds later a little ball of black fur and yellow eyes bounded out of the master bedroom and toward her, making it halfway before he stopped and looked suspiciously at the one who sounded like his favorite human in the world but didn't look like her. She called his name again and pspsps'd, and that finally drew the cat to her, albeit warily. She picked him up and brought him to her shoulder, where he finally got a good sniff of her and relaxed, and then suddenly squirmed with joy. She brought him to the kitchen, gave him a Temptations Meaty Bite (his favorite treat), and began loving him up as Ethan brought in the bags.

Ethan could only grin. Six years ago, his mother had brought in a tiny black kitten, to his indifference and his father's dismay. Licorice was a sweet-tempered, friendly thing and had quickly won Ethan over; his dad maintained a disdainful facade in front of others, but when he thought he was alone with the cat he babied him more than the other two did. Now of course Licorice was a full adult, albeit a small one, and Brianna still commanded his affections as she had done since the moment he'd come into the home. "I'll take your bags to your bedroom and then start lunch - unless you want to take a nap or a shower first?"

"Both those things sound amazing, but definitely lunch first!" she said. "Well, bathroom first, then lunch, then shower, then nap."

"Your plans are extensive and detailed," he nodded solemnly. It was something that Uncle Jim and Aunt Tina said to each other all the time, but it just made his mother giggle and call him silly. He dropped the bags on her bed and headed for the kitchen.

Brianna had followed him, Licorice clinging desperately to her shirt and purring like a small feline maniac. She stepped into the master bathroom, peed, washed her hands, and spent almost the next ten minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror as Licorice climbed around her shoulders. It was small wonder that Ethan hadn't recognized her: a lot of her extra weight had been in her face, and when she'd left her face had been round and paunchy; now, though, her face was a long, slim oval. Even her eyes had changed shape, from small and almost occluded by fat, to wider, almost feline-looking. Her double chin was gone. Even had she left her hair the color and style that it had been, he still might not have recognized her, but with the new do she was as different as she could have been and remained in the same body.

On a whim, she set down the protesting Licorice by the sink, pulled out her phone, and took a quick dozen selfies. Choosing the best one, she snapped it to her best friend Lauren Krieger.

Look who's back, all new and all different!

That done, she headed back to the kitchen, expecting to see her son in desperate need of help; instead, she discovered that he was almost done. "What are we having?"

"Aunt Tina's special chicken salad. It's suuuper good. I just hope I made it half as well as she does."

Before Brianna could answer, her phone chirped with a message from Lauren. It contained a selfie of her at her desk, looking wide-eyed and stunned, with the message:

Dafuq????

Before Brianna could reply, another snap came in of Lauren looking shocked.

The hair? The nostril ring? What the hell happened to you out there?

Brianna grinned and took a candid shot of Ethan that really captured how adult and hot he was now, then snapped it back with the message:

If you liked that you'll love this

Almost immediate Lauren sent a snap with her tongue out and her free hand doing headbanger horns, along with the legend:

Ur having an affair with a hot young stud and he's cooking 4u? Bout time!

Brianna laughed so suddenly it came out her nose as an unattractive snort. Ethan looked up with a puzzled expression, and she showed him the exchange with her friend; neither of them let on that the carnal thoughts that had occurred to them when they first saw each other flashed through their minds at Lauren's assertion that Ethan was Brianna's side guy. Instead, Ethan leaned in with his face next to his mom's for a double selfie with the note:

It's Ethan you sex fiend

Moment's later Lauren returned a snap of her making bedroom eyes with the tip of one thumb between her lips.

Is he looking 4 a wife? Maybe slightly used, with couple of kids?

Lauren had recently divorced her husband of three years because he was a chronic cheater - the final straw was when he picked up the clap from some slut and gave it to her -and she was now alone with her two young children, constantly complaining about how hard it was for a woman in her position to attract a man worth having. Brianna sympathized, but not enough to send her beloved stringbean into that lion's den. She sent back an absolutely deadpan snap with the note:

I'll have to check and get back to you.

Lauren returned a snap of herself looking eager, with:

I'll keep my fingers crossed!

Brianna sent back an even more deadpan pic.

You do that. G2g, my amazing son is feeding me lunch

As she sent the message, Ethan was spooning out two large heaps of chicken salad onto two beds of Romaine lettuce on two plates, accompanying each with a generous chunk of crusty, rustic bread. He bore the plates to the table and sets Brianna's before her with a flourish. "Voila, Aunt Tina's special chicken salad."

It looked delicious, but Brianna still couldn't resist teasing her boy. "Are you sure this isn't a convoluted plot to poison me?"

"I'm not sure of anything, but I'm eating it too, so if it is poison we both go down together." She giggled and poked a fork into the chicken salad, but he stopped her and lifted his water glass. "Hey, hold up, there's something I want to say. A lot of great things happened to me this summer, but seeing you again is the best thing of all. To you."

Brianna smiled enormously and blinked back the tears she felt start in her eyes. The Ethan of eight months ago never would have said something that sweet and kind, even if he felt it. Her voice was trembling a bit as she touched her glass to his and said, "And to you too. I missed you every single day I was out there, but being here with you now makes up for all of it."

They drank and started eating. Admittedly it was just chicken salad, but there was some combination of spices in it that made it the best chicken salad she had ever eaten. "Oh, you've got to give me this recipe."

"I already put it in the recipe box," he said with a nod. "It's filed under Chicken Salad Comma Aunt Tina's. I'm glad you like it."

"I think I could eat this every day and not get sick of it." She took another bite, then asked, "So how come you know how to cook now?"

"Like I said, Uncle Jim said that a man needed to know how to make decent food. He also said that a man takes care of the ones he loves. I guess this is doing both."

"I'll have to send him a thank-you card. What else did he say?"

"A lot, about a lot of different things. It seemed like every time he opened his mouth, I learned something I needed to know."

"What kind of things?"

"Oh, he showed me how to fix a bunch of different stuff, everything from a stuck drawer to a broken fan to a tractor - I even helped him rewire the machine barn. He talked a lot about how a man should carry himself in the world, about how he should treat the people around him, all that kind of thing. He even told me a lot about girls and how a good man acts toward them."

Brianna was quiet for a few moments as she digested that. Those were the things a father should teach his son, the things Ethan should have learned from Harley - that he would have learned from Harley had Harley been more involved in Ethan's life. She was sad her son didn't have a father who took a more active role in his life, but it looked like her brother-in-law taught the young man a lot of things. "So, girls, huh?" she finally asked. "What did he tell you about the mysterious other half of the species?"

Ethan shrugged, obviously a little uneasy with the topic. "He told me to always treat women with respect, even the ones who sometimes they acted like they didn't deserve it. He told me a lot of stuff about what women want - what they really want, I mean. He said that a man should be firm and strong, because that's what good women wanted, but that didn't mean a man should be a dick either - a good man guided a woman just like he allowed her to guide him. He said that if I wanted to get and keep a woman worth having, I should find out something she wanted but never got from anyone else and then figure out how to give it to her - he said that's how solid, long-lasting relationships were made." He opened his mouth, then reconsidered what he was about to say; after a couple of seconds he shrugged again and said, "You know, guy talk."

Good Lord, if Ethan had learned all that from one summer shadowing a good man, what else did he pick up? "That doesn't sound like any guy talk I ever heard. It's usually much more juvenile than that."

"Well... yeah, I guess. I think most guys don't have the first clue what women really want. All those guys calling themselves alphas or sigmas or whatever other stupid thing they call themselves now - they all seem like scared little boys. Uncle Jim said a real man doesn't have to shoot off his mouth about how strong or good he is, or whatever - actions are what matter, not words. He said if other guys are woofing and blowing themselves up, a real man should stay quiet and let his deeds do the talking for him."

Brianna wasn't sure how much of that Ethan could actually put into practice at his tender age, but if he walked his talk there were going to be young women, and maybe a few older ones, mobbing this house. "So were there any girls this summer?"

"Yeah, I guess."

She arched an eyebrow. "And did you put these principles into action?"

"I tried."

"And?" No reply. "Did they work?"

"I guess."

He was plainly uncomfortable giving details and she didn't want to press, but she was very happy for him. Half his friends were girls and he had no trouble talking to them, but as far as girlfriends went, his high school experience had been a vast desert - she wasn't even sure if he'd ever kissed anyone, and she was positive he'd never gone beyond that... well, before this summer, anyway. She wasn't going to press him for more information; she'd get the juicy deets from Tina.

"Anyway," he said after a bit, "Tell me about this weight loss. It's pretty spectacular."

"There was no trick to it. It's like the doctors always say: eat less and move more. I cut out the sweets and a lot of carbs, I cut back on portion sizes, I ate more vegetables - and most of them were much better than anything you get around here, because they came out of your grandmother's garden. And I ran and ran and ran."

"Starting running isn't easy, especially for someone as out of shape as you were eight months ago. How did you start?"

"Desperation is a whip," she chuckled. "I said your grandmother was a lot easier to live with than she used to be, but that doesn't mean she was easy to live with. By the third day there, I was going absolutely bonkers, so I drove into town to pick up some stuff at the drug store, just to get away from her. I ran into three people who used to make me miserable in high school - they were these horrible looking drug scarecrows now, but they picked up with the insults about my weight like I'd never even left. When I got back to the house, I put on sweats and went for a run, just to burn off some frustration - I was puking inside of a hundred yards. But then next day I managed to go a little further, and the day after that further still. When it got warm enough I gardened and took care of the yard work, and I did a lot of manual labor around the house too - I even fixed the roof all by myself. Once the weight started coming off, I was so proud of myself that I didn't want to stop."

"You look amazing. How do you feel?"

She thought for a moment before saying, "Better than I have since I was twelve years old. I think... I think I actually like myself now."

"Wait, you didn't like yourself before?"

"Not really. I loved you and your father, I loved my job and always did the best I could at it, I always did my best to keep this place up, but... no, I don't think I liked myself at all. I know I didn't respect myself, except for getting away from Lutton. But this last summer I earned my own respect - I'm stronger than I thought I was, I achieved something I never once thought I could and... and, well, I'm proud of myself."

"You should be! You put in the work and the results speak for themselves. I've always been proud of you and proud that you were my mother, but I don't think I could be prouder of you than I am now. You kick butt, mom."

Brianna's face lit up like a neon sign. "You were proud of me? This whole time? I never knew that. I knew you loved me and liked spending time with me but..."

Ethan waited for her to continue, and when she didn't he supplied, "But you weren't proud of yourself so you couldn't imagine how anyone else could be either."

"Yes, exactly that. You're pretty smart."

The conversation went on through the rest of the meal but moved on to lighter topics. Ethan told a handful of funny anecdotes about things that had happened at the swimming hole they went to (a girl who didn't realize that her swimsuit was transparent when wet until she got out of the water, a guy who tried to do a double-flip belly flop off a tree swing but wound up hitting the water flat on his back and floating there like a stunned shark, the time when the kids who were over 18 were all skinny-dipping and one girl's parents showed up looking for her). Brianna didn't have many amusing stories, which wasn't surprising for someone who'd spent eight months in rural Kansas, but she did her best to deftly pry more information out of her son about the girls he'd had success with over the summer; unfortunately, he was mum on the topic. When they were done eating, she insisted that he at least let her wash the dishes, which he permitted. He headed over to Vincent's house to talk about the game, while she took a bath and then laid down on her very own bed to nap with her kitty-cat.

*

Vincent lived in an apartment building that was pretty typical for the neighborhood: small units, a little run down, the kind of place where you were basically safe but you still had three or four locks on your door in case someone got ideas. The apartment he shared with his family was a different story: comfortably cluttered, always smelling like the last delicious meal his mom had made (she was easily the best cook out of their friend group, which was probably a big reason Vincent got fat young and stayed that way). It was the sort of place where it wasn't just permitted to put your feet up on the furniture, it was expected. Vincent lived there with his mom (and his dad, when he was home from his long-haul trucking job) as well as three younger siblings, two sisters and a brother; an older brother was across the country doing pre-med at Cal Berkeley. Everyone in the family was whipcrack smart, especially the truck driving father.

Vincent met him at the door. He was of average height but weighed somewhere around 300 pounds, none of it muscle. He sported a scraggly sort of teenage beard, thicker in some spots than others, albeit neatly trimmed, and he dressed as sharply as his family's limited budget and the availability of fashionable clothes in his size would permit. "Hey bro, get in here, the hallway ain't safe."

"You've said that every single time I've come over here," Ethan pointed out as he stepped into the apartment.

"And it's been true every single time," Vincent said as he commenced the lengthy procedure of locking the door.

Ethan inhaled deeply. "Damn, it always smells great in here. What did your mom make this time?"

"Oh, just carne molida with fried plantains. I'd offer you some but I just ate the last leftovers."

Ethan had eaten that meal more than once in this apartment and it was delicious, especially with the several varieties of peppers Mrs. Rodriguez put in with the beef. "Nah, it's cool, I just made some chicken salad."

"Cool. Get your moms back safe?"

"Safe and sound, and you wouldn't believe how she looks." He pulled out his phone and dialed up the picture he had taken of her, handing it over to Vincent.

"¡Puta madre!" Vincent gasped, eyes wide.

"That's not cool when you're talking about my actual mother, you know."

"Wha... fuck, sorry, I was just stunned. Your mom turned into a smoking hot goth chick over the summer!"

"I mean... kinda, I guess. She took up running and lost eighty pounds, too." He saw Vincent bring up the text ap and grabbed his phone back. "No, oh no. Definitely not."

"What?"

"You're trying to send that picture to yourself for fapping purposes."

"I was not!" Ethan just fixed him with a steady glare until Vincent began to fidget. "OK, but you can't blame me, your mom's hot AF now."

"That doesn't mean you can jerk off to her."

"Oh come on, you know I'm going to see her soon anyway and I'll take a picture of her then. And it's not like we both haven't beat it to Mrs. Huntley."

He had a point there - Jesse Huntley was one of their friend group, and his mom was an absolutely gorgeous woman that had featured strongly in his adolescent musings. "OK, point. But if you're going to spank to my mom, at least have the decency not to tell me."

"Deal. Want a Monster? Grab one from the fridge and come on back, I'll show you the latest and greatest." A couple minutes later they were sitting at Vincent's computer, where he had a series of spreadsheets pulled up. "I mean look at this, bruh. The code you wrote is like Rock of Gibraltar-solid, and I've patched it up as I've gotten bug reports. Windows is a hundred percent ready. So is Mac. Android just has a few bugs left to squash, with you back we'll have them killed this weekend for sure. It's possible we'll even have iOS ready to roll then too."

"That's amazing news, bruh. I can't wait for this thing to be done and over so I can move on to other things."

Vincent swiveled his chair to look at him. "We need to start thinking expansions. New levels for sure."

Ethan exploded into laughter. "Bro, we ain't gonna move a hundred and fifty copies of this game. What are you talking about, 'new levels?'"

"You've been too close to it to realize what you've got, bruh. The playtesters are raving about it, like rabidly. It's so fun that all summer I was playing it when I wasn't patching it - Olinka too. If we get one or two little breaks, this thing is gonna blow the fuck up."

"Are you fuckin' high, bro?"

"Not currently. Why, got anything?"

"Listen, even triple-A titles are going begging now. The days are gone when passion project games like this can sell. No game made by three kids is gonna make so much as a ripple."

"Don't sell yourself short. I'm not guaranteeing it or anything because we do need a few breaks, but if we get noticed by two or three influential reviewers, people will be demanding more levels, more mobs, more characters, all that."

Ethan just shook his head with a rueful smile. "I hope you're right, even though I know you're wrong."

"I'd offer to bet you but I don't have anything you want."

"A night with your mom?"

"That means if I win I get a night with your mom. I definitely get the better end of that deal."

Ethan laughed. "OK fine, no bet. Anything else about the game?"

"Just start thinking of new levels. Trust me."

"I don't trust you. Got any new games?"

"Yeah, mom got me a new shooter that I've barely touched because I was busy playing Flying Monkey Express. Want to try it?"

"Hell yeah."

*

Brianna was busy sorting through her clothes and trying to find some portion of them she could salvage to fit the new her, but there was nothing she wanted to wear anymore - her old clothes were ugly and baggy on her even when she was at her maximum weight because she'd wanted to hide in them, but she was done hiding herself. It looked like she'd be taking a ton of stuff to the used clothes store and coming back with a smaller pile of new things to fit her.

Her phone rang - Lauren wanting to start a video call. She answered with a smile. "Hey, girl."

"Holy shitburger, it really is you," Lauren said. From what Brianna could see, her friend had called her the moment she set foot outside of work. "I still half-thought you were yanking my chain, like with filters or something. I think you need to go over this in detail so I can get my head around it."

Brianna unpacked it all for her friend, finishing up with, "The only downside is that now I have to spend money we don't have on a new wardrobe. I've only got a few outfits that fit me now, and those are ones I bought in Kansas. I don't have a thing I can wear to work."

"Wanna go shopping this weekend?"

"Of course I do, but I know you. You won't recommend a fucking thing I can afford." As a rule, Brianna's profanity was limited to hell, damn, and ass, but the fact was she loved profanity, how the words sounded and felt in her mouth, and Lauren was the only person she talked to where she left that flag fly. "I'll see if Ethan wants to go tomorrow."

"Speaking of Ethan, holy fuck. He's not a goofy-lookin' little kid anymore, he's a gorgeous stud."

"Yeah, we both changed a lot, that's for sure. I'm amazed at more than just his looks, though - apparently my brother-in-law Jim gave him a fuckton of life lessons, because he is much more... self-assured now. He went away a boy and came back a real man."

"Good, now there's one man in the fucking house anyway." Brianna and Lauren had met in college and became fast friends, a true example of opposites attracting, and right from the first Harley and Lauren hadn't gotten along. Harley desired nothing more than quiet, inconspicuous normalcy, while Lauren was a wildfire in the shape of a woman. Lauren wore provocative clothes, swore like an angry sailor, had tattoos covering huge swathes of her skin, and, until she had gotten married four years ago to the man she had recently divorced, fucked everything that couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way regardless of sex or gender. Lauren had always regarded Harley as a sack of spuds, even before he became one (that is a crappy thing to think about my husband - Harley does the best he can). She had long since learned to let her best friend and her husband each blow off steam about the other, with Harley calling Lauren a low-class slut and Lauren calling Harley a worthless excuse for a husband, before gently redirecting the conversation.

"Two, honey," Brianna replied. "And Ethan has learned to cook too - he made me lunch and he's in the kitchen right now making me dinner to celebrate my homecoming. I don't know what he's got going but it already smells bitchin'."

"OK, so weight loss, awesome, congratulations, you look hot. What's with the hair?"

"You hate it, don't you?"

"Fuck no! You look amazing! That color is, like, absolutely perfect on you, and the cut is bold but really cute. What made you get it?"

"A very convincing stylist. Ethan loves it, but I'm going to wait and see what Harley says before I decide to keep it or not."

"Screw Harley... oh, wait, Harley never screws you. What do you think? Do you like it?"

"I mean... yeah, kind of. I'm really self-conscious about it and I don't know if it suits me, but I do think it looks good. I don't know."

"If you like it then keep it. Who care what Harley says? He never fucking looks at you anyway, it will probably take him two weeks to notice you've changed anything."

"Alright, that's enough about Harley," Brianna said. There was no rancor in her words, just like there was none when she told Harley that he'd ranted enough about Lauren. She loved them both so she had to let them vent about each other. Besides, it wasn't as though Lauren ever said anything about Harley that wasn't at least a little bit true (just like there was some truth in Harley's complaints about Lauren) and she knew Lauren wanted better for her than she had; neither Lauren nor Harley could understand that she was comfortable with both of them playing big parts in her life.

"So what kind of clothes are you looking for?"

"Whatever the second-hand store has, I guess."

"Come oooon, you have to go in with an idea at least. You've got a rockin' bod now, you should show it off some. At least dress like you aren't ashamed of what you have."

"I think I'm going for just... regular clothes, you know? Like a healthy woman my age would wear."

"BO-ring. You gotta wear something that shows cleavage at least." Brianna snorted and moved the phone so it showed her chest in profile, and a moment later Lauren said, "What the hell happened to your tits, bitch? They were your best feature."

"Breasts are mostly fat. I sweated all mine off. I went to Kansas a C-cup and came back an A... well, an A on a good day."

"You should get them enhanced. Big ol' titties would look fucking stunning on that new body of yours."

"I can't even afford new clothes and you want me to get breast implants? I'd rather have enough money to fix one of our goddamned cars the next time it breaks."

"You can stuff your bra like in high school."

"Like you did in high school, I was too busy hiding from bullies. Anyway, I'm proud of my new shape. I'm thinner and healthier than I've been since I started high school and I want to show it off."

"Oh... fine. Get padded bras at least, give yourself some contours. You don't want people to think you're a twink."

"What's a twink? Like a Twinkie?"

"God you're fucking sheltered. Anyway, what are you doing Saturday for lunch? Whatever it is, cancel it because I'm taking you to La Petite Fée."

"I can't afford to eat there!"

"Yes you can, it's a welcome home gift from me. And don't you dare say no, I made these reservations for us two weeks ago."

"Well... fine. I - oh, gotta go, Harley's home. I have to get his reaction to the new me."

"Good luck! TTYL!"

Brianna tucked her phone away, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hall. She could hear her husband and son chatting in the hallway and she called, "Honey?"

A moment later Harley stepped around the corner into the hall and immediately froze, mouth agape. He stood that way for long enough that Brianna began to worry, and finally she said, "Um... honey?"

"What... I... I barely recognize you." He sounded neither pleased nor displeased, just stunned.

After several long seconds, she spread her arms and said, "Well?"

"You lost so much weight! It's amazing. You haven't been this skinny since we met. How did you pull that off?" She told him what she'd told everyone else, adding that she had kept it a secret during their infrequent communications because she wanted it to be a surprise if she succeeded, and she didn't want to humiliate herself if she failed and put the weight back on. He nodded, told her again that she she looked great, and then asked, "But what the fuck is up with your hair?"

"I just... wanted a change. Like you christen a ship when you launch it, I was launching a new Brianna. Do you hate it?"

"I loved your hair."

Unbidden, the thought flickered through her mind: Then why didn't you tell me that one time during the 14 years we've been married? She didn't say that, though. Instead she simply repeated, "Do you hate it?"

"I don't hate it," he said in a tone that meant he clearly did. "And what's with that ring in your nose? You're not some 20-year-old kid, you're a 32-year-old wife and a mother. What were you thinking? Come on, grow up."

She slumped. She hadn't expected him to love it, but she hadn't expected him to be so brutal about it either. Staring at the floor, she muttered, "Sorry."

He came to her and gave her a quick hug. "It's great to have you back. I missed you. Now things can go back to normal around this place."

She barely hugged him back; his outburst had robbed her of the strength in her limbs.

As soon as Harley went into the bedroom and shut his door to change out of his work clothes, Ethan appeared around the corner with a solemn expression. He walked to her, put his hands on her shoulders, looked her dead in the eye, and said, "Dad's full of shit, mom. You look amazing, and don't let him tell you otherwise."

She shook her head. "I knew this was a stupid idea when I did it. I'll see if I can get an appointment this weekend and get the color removed."

Suddenly her son was hugging her close and she was melting against him; it was only his grasp that was keeping her upright. "I can't tell you what to do, but listen: when you left you looked 40, and now if you said you were 25 nobody would bat an eye. I've known you my whole life and you've never, ever looked as good, as right, as you do at this moment."

"Your father wants me to undo it all."

"Dad doesn't want anything to change, but it's too late. You've changed. Now you know you're the kind of person who can lose 80 pounds in eight months through sheer will. You deserve to look the way you want to look. It's your body, not his, and if he loves you he'll accept it."

She had pressed her face into his chest. She could feel the strength of his arms and the steadiness of his purpose, and she could smell his masculinity. "He hates it though."

He held her closer. "I love it, but the only person whose opinion matters is yours."

Brianna tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, tears started flowing into his tee shirt, and her tiny hands curled into fists around the cloth at his sides. Harley was normally affable enough, but sometimes he could be a complete jackass. At least there was one man in the house who was nice to her.

Ethan knew that his father would be coming back out of his room soon, and if he saw mom crying because of something he said, he'd get defensive and even harsher than before. Gently he tilted his mother's head back, brushed the tears from her cheeks, and said, "Come on, I'll show you what I'm making for dinner."

"OK," she sniffled, letting him lead her into the kitchen. She saw a pork loin split open and pounded almost flat, baby spinach, shredded cheese, bacon strips, and some kind of green sauce in a measuring cup. "Is that pesto?"

"Yep. I know you love pesto, so I decided to make this."

She sniffled again. This was certainly unexpected - normally she cooked what he or Harley wanted, not what she wanted. The only time she cooked to her own preferences was on her birthday. "That's so sweet of you, Ethan. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything now, but a 'Yum" would be appreciated after you taste it."

She smiled, but she felt herself choking up once more. Her young man was taking care of her, real care. She had never expected this would happen in a million years, and now that it was here she felt a mix of pride and happiness that made her want to start crying again.

"Anyway, you're getting bacon-wrapped, pesto-stuffed pork tenderloin, with linguine in a Parmesan and garlic sauce and a nice green salad with a vinaigrette that I made yesterday."

"Wow. Just... wow. You're amazing. I didn't know there were actually men who helped in the kitchen."

"Come on, it's not that big a deal," he laughed. "It's not like anything I'm making is complicated."

He didn't understand. She wasn't sure if she understood it herself, and she was positive she couldn't explain it. All she knew was that she loved him as much at this moment as she ever had before. She asked, "How can I help?"

"No, I'm doing this for you. Go on, have a seat and - "

"Please."

Ethan looked at his mother a bit closer and understood instantly: if she wasn't actively distracted by helping him when his dad came back out of the room, she was liable to start crying again. She didn't want to humiliate herself in front of her husband, not after the wretched greeting she had received in the hall. "Sure. Lay out those bacon strips one above the other, we're going to wrap that tenderloin in them."

Soon they were working merrily side by side, pleasantly bantering back and forth. The good vibes hit a hiccup a couple minutes later when Harley came down the hall and stopped at the kitchen, looking like he wanted to say something; eventually he settled on, "What's for dinner?" Ethan explained, and his father nodded and said, "I'll be in the living room."

Four hands made light work of the meal prep, in spite of the fact that the kitchen was really only big enough for one person to work in it at a time. Mother and son kept comparing the awkward movements they were forced to make to a game of Twister, which just made them laugh. When Harley came back for a beer, there was no way for him to make it to the fridge without tripping over at least one body, so Ethan had to hand him one; again Harley looked like he wanted to say something, and again he backed off and returned to SportsCenter.

Brianna was surprised and pleased with her son's new skill. To be sure, he wasn't nearly as skilled as she was, and he had chosen a beginner-level dinner, but it was likely to be delicious and he had shown confidence making it. And not only that, he was making it specifically for her. He told her he didn't mind taking his turn cooking once or twice a week - he wanted to burnish his abilities as well as take some of the load off her shoulders - and they talked about how they could serve healthier meals than the ones Brianna had been used to making before she left for Kansas.

At last the dinner was ready and they moved to the dining room (for Harley it was a matter of getting out of one chair and moving to another in the same room, since living room and dining room were arbitrary divisions of the same space). The food turned out better than Ethan had hoped, and his father praised son and mother alike for the meal. The dinner conversation was light, and Ethan and Brianna both promised to do slide shows tomorrow on the TV of the best pictures and video they took on their respective pilgrimages; Harley, having stayed home all summer, had no pictures of anything except a few dozen of Licorice.

Ethan kept seeing his dad giving his mom the same pregnant looks he'd been giving, and he assumed a major conversation between those two was in the offing. Hopefully it wasn't another rant about Brianna's appearance, because that was the last thing she needed; at any rate, Harley didn't say more about it at the table.

When they were done, Ethan said he would wash the dishes but Brianna said, "No, for heaven sake I'll do them. After so long away I need to get back into my routine, and this is a good first step. I'm sure you have other things to do."

"Well, I do have a list of bugs I need to squash," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "If you're sure..."

"I am. Shoo, off with you, go to your cave and work on your computer."

Ethan laughed and went (not before reiterating to her that it was wonderful to have her back). Rather unexpectedly, Harley did not immediately head back to his chair to watch sports; instead, he paused long enough to say, "Um, listen, we need to talk. No, it's not about your hair or anything, it's something else pretty big. I'll be in the bedroom when you're done with dishes."

Brianna had known Harley for most of her life; she could tell from his tone and his bearing that it was not good news, whatever it was. Her heart sank, but she just nodded and said, "OK, I'll be back there in a few minutes."

Well, that was something to worry about while she did dishes. Her first day back and she'd apparently walked into a crisis. She tried not to let her anxiety get the best of her as she dried her hands and headed down the hall. Harley was waiting for her, watching his phone on the bed, but before he could say anything she excused herself and went to the bathroom. When she got out, her husband was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor and a very serious expression on his face; she sat next to him.

He took a deep breath. "First of all, I need to apologize for what I said before, about your hair. It was mean and I was out of line, and I'm sorry for not giving you the proper welcome home."

"It's alright," she assured him, though it didn't feel alright yet. "When you've been married as long as we have, it's sometimes easy to forget the niceties."

"That doesn't make it any better. You can wear your hair however you want - your body, your choice. And I want you to know how good it is to have you home. I was awfully lonely for the last eight months. I want you to know too how proud I am of you for taking off all that weight. Maybe you can give me some weight loss tips, I put on ten pounds from all the takeout I ate when you were away."

She gave him her gentle smile. "Of course, we'll have you in shape in no time."

"Yeah. Um... this isn't an excuse for how I acted earlier, but it is an explanation. I had a very, very bad day at work today."

"Oh no!" she said, taking his hand. "What happened, honey?"

"I was going to see the owner for a meeting we had scheduled. I was a couple of minutes early, and when I got to his office the door was open a crack and I heard voices, the owner's and the CFO's. They were talking about the owner selling the company - he's got a buyer lined up in Houston who wants to shut down operations here and relocate them to Texas."

The blood drained from her face. "Oh no. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"So am I. I mean it didn't sound like a done deal yet, I guess there are still some I's to dot and T's to cross, but they sounded pretty sure it was going to get finalized."

She felt horrible for her husband. Harley wanted to work and worked hard when he could. Unfortunately he had a hard time holding a job, and not through his own errors: every company he worked for was bought out and moved overseas, or went out of business, or downsized and laid off his whole department. Not that he would ever say it or even admit that Brianna was right if she said it, but it was that repeated disappointment that had caused him to slide into depression, and it was that depression that had made him pull away from Ethan all those years ago. He was an unhappy man and he had made himself impossible to help by not admitting there was a problem in the first place.

She also knew that if he did lose his job, things were about to get really hard around here, really fast. They had survived it a few times before, and he was always diligent in looking for a job when he needed one, but the repeated disappointment of so many job losses meant that he was going to be extremely miserable for however long it took to get into a new position. Besides, after this last summer, money was already in short supply. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together like we know we can."

"I'll start looking for something else tonight," he told her. "I just wanted you to know first."

She put her arms around him and hugged tightly. "I'm so proud of you, honey. I've always been proud of you."

He gave an almost subsonic rumble. "What the hell for?"

He squeezed him a little tighter. "Because you're a good man. Because you try as hard as you can, all the time, no matter what setbacks happen. Because you're still here. You never had to be here at all. Nobody expected you to stand by me, but here you are, almost nineteen years later."

"It was my son, my responsibility."

"That night was inflicted on you as much as it was on me. Neither of us were given any choice in the matter, and neither of us were capable of stopping what was done to us. Nobody would have blamed you had you never talked to me again, not even me. You could have gone on with the rest of your life, but instead you've been right by my side the whole time."

"If I'd have ignored you, I would have been just another deadbeat Quinn County Mitchell, no better than anyone else in my family."

"You were always better than them. Always."

"Yeah, right. Half the time I haven't been able to contribute a dime to keep us and this house running."

She bit back a sigh; when he was down, that was always the kernel of the issue. When he found out she was pregnant he promised that he would always support their child; when he proposed to her, he promised her that he would always support her too. It was his point of pride, his mark of differentiation from a family whose male members had spawned uncounted bastards and supported exactly none of them. Not being able to keep his promises, no matter how hard he tried, ate at him like acid. "It wasn't half the time, it was a few months here and there. And this will be just as brief a time. You'll be back on your feet again before you know it."

Harley could only sigh and slump. "I don't know why this keeps happening to me."

"It's just bad luck. There's no why, it just is."

"I'll do my best to find another job fast," he repeated. "And who knows, maybe the company won't be sold until after I find one. That would be good."

"Yes it would, but even if it doesn't work out that way, we'll be fine. We've always been fine."

"Yeah," he said, sounding dubious. "We've always been fine. Anyway, tell me what's really going on in Lutton."

In the past, Lutton had been a quiet, prosperous farm town, the county seat, an idyllic spot right out of an old movie (or so the old folks said). The farm crisis of the 1980s had kicked the legs out from underneath it, and then opioids and meth landed a one-two punch that put it down for the count. Nowadays there were only a few hundred people there, mostly living on government assistance, lots of them addicted to booze or drugs in various combinations. It was the kind of place people who had any other option moved away from as soon as they could.

"Oh dear Lord, where to start. You know the row of shops on the north side of Main downtown?"

"You mean the row of closed down shops on the north side of Main?"

"Yeah. A couple years ago some kids were messing around and started a gasoline fire in one of them. All those buildings are gone now, just empty lots."

"What a shitshow."

"Darn near everyone in town is either drunk or high all the time - I saw a couple of kids who couldn't have been more than ten years old, drinking whiskey in what used to be the middle school parking lot in broad daylight. Sheriff Oberlin drove right past and didn't blink an eye."

"Back in our day we at least waited until we were teenagers to get into that stuff, even if only by a couple of months."

Brianna exhaled a little laugh. She had barely waited until she was a teenager to get drunk, which led her directly to this station in life. "Wheeden's Grocery closed like... a year and a half ago? Now the only businesses in town are the Kum & Go and the feed and grain store, except for a handyman and a woman who moonlights as a seamstress. Oh, there is a new poultry plant out Highway 37 way, people from all over the region work there. Terrible jobs, though, and the company is always finding ways to screw the workers out of their wages."

"I almost hesitate to ask, but what about my family?"

"They're doing fantastic. Your mom got her sentence extended for trying to shank a prison guard. Joe's still on the run, if he's still alive. Opal's in Kansas City - she has a successful podcast called 'American Aryan KKKristian Momma.'"

"Sweet fuck."

"Yeah. Let's see... Carl's still involved with the biker gang, I guess he's running a junkyard in Topeka now. Oh, and Nadine is in Denver, still hooking, but apparently her pimp married her for some reason, so, you know, everything's coming up roses for her."

She didn't have to mention that his brother Deke was still dead after his three-state murder rampage, or the father who had died from a drug overdose when Harley was still young.

"Thank God for you, honey," he said. "If not for you, I might still be in that dumpster fire. You saved me."

"Oh no, mister. We saved each other."

He smiled and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She was fully aware that this was the point where other husbands who hadn't seen their wives for eight months would give those wives a good, hard welcome-home screw; she was also fully aware that Harley was not that husband and she was not that wife. That was fine, she didn't miss it.

"I think I'm going to stay in here and worked on my profiles. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind. Oh, obviously I'm going to need a whole new wardrobe. I'll be hitting the used clothes stores, but I won't go crazy."

He smiled. "I can't wait to see your new style. Love you, honey."

"Love you. I have to call Tina anyway and find out what Ethan really got up to all summer."

A moment later she was closing the bedroom door behind her (she accidentally shut Licorice inside but cats are made of water and he effortlessly squeezed himself through the significant crack under the door) and stepping across the hall to rap on Ethan's door. He told her to come in, and she opened the door to see Ethan in his computer chair with the screen of his monitor taken up with computer code; she'd gotten used to seeing him work on it since he'd started his game, but it still looked to her like he was hacking the Matrix. "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go clothes shopping with me tomorrow. I need a second pair of eyes and a second opinion."

"I am really not a good one to give opinions about women's clothes, mom."

"You don't need to know about them, just give an opinion on what looks good and what doesn't."

"Half the time I don't even notice what women are wearing. People make fun of me about it."

"Are you going to make me go alone?" she pouted.

"I have an idea. How about I check with Olinka and see if she's free? She has fantastic fashion sense, and she's going to lose her mind when she sees your changes."

"I guess that would be OK. I want to go tomorrow right after lunch."

Ethan picked up his phone and typed out a fairly long message and hit send. A few moments later an answer came back, and he smiled. "She said she'd love to go shopping with you. Can you pick her up?"

"Absolutely. Thanks sweetie, you're the best."

From there she got herself a glass of ice water, snuggled into her favorite spot on the sofa (it fit different now, just like her car), and pulled out her phone to text her sister.

Hey T

Moments later came the reply:

Hey Brianna-Banana

If they'd both been five or six years younger, Tina would probably have nicknamed her Brianna Montana instead.

How's it going?

Great, glad to be home?

You have no idea. Lutton must perish in nuclear fire, as long as mom's not there when it happens

Harsh but fair

Sup?

I took off a little weight

Wanna see pics?

She sent several of the selfies she'd taken earlier to her and waited, Licorice making biscuits on her leg before settling down in a little black ball. A moment later, Tina was actually calling.

"Hi."

"OH MY GOD, Brianna! What the hell happened? You look amazing!" Brianna told the weight loss story again, and the hair story, and her sister was suitably impressed. "Good for you, I can't believe it. You're a smokeshow now."

"Thanks, I feel great. Harley was unimpressed with my hair at first, but he calmed down."

"Ha, good. I love your piercing too. You should get your nipples done."

"Ow!" she winced. "What's the point? Nobody even looks at my boobs... and besides, they aren't there anymore."

"It might get Harley riled up enough to give you some loving."

"Oh hush, that doesn't matter."

"That's only because you aren't getting any. If you were, it would matter a lot."

"Says you. How are you guys doing?"

"Well enough. The apples are coming in nicely so it should be a good season for those. Maybe it will make up for the all the corn we lost to that herd of deer we couldn't get to leave our fields alone."

They talked for a while about the various enterprises Tina and Jim ran, Tina's kids, and what Brianna had gone through during her time in Kansas. Eventually, though, Brianna got around to the point. "Look, I don't know what you did to him, but Ethan is a completely different person now."

Tina laughed. "He grew up a lot in three months, didn't he?"

"I genuinely didn't recognize him when he came to pick me up at the airport, but then I changed so much that he didn't recognize me either."

"I don't blame him, you look like you did when you were 13. Except if you looked like this then, dad would have lost his shit about your hair."

"I can't even imagine. He'd probably have shaved my head and made me wear a wig until my hair grew down to my butt. Anyway, what did you do to my son?"

"He did it all himself. Jim and I were worried that he wouldn't want to participate around here, but he threw himself into it. He outworked all my own kids and kept up with Jim almost the whole time."

"Yeah, every other sentence out of his mouth starts with, 'Uncle Jim said...'"

"I'm not surprised. He was Jim's shadow, and Jim loved him. He said that Ethan had a whole bunch of questions every day, and not just about the farm. He... really seemed to admire Jim for a bunch of reasons. He... hmmm. He seemed eager for a new perspective."

Brianna understood that Tina was trying to figure out a polite way to say that Ethan was looking for a strong male role model. She couldn't blame her son - Ethan had spent a long time being ignored by his father, so it was natural he'd latch onto a man who could model masculinity for him and give sound advice. "I'm glad Jim was willing to put up with him. It obviously meant a lot to him."

"I think Jim enjoyed it as much as Ethan did. He's passed on as much to Ed as Ed was willing to learn, but they're very different people. Ed's sixteen, he doesn't want to learn anything from his old man."

"So typical teenager, then." Not that Ethan had ever been that way - he was always willing to hear any advice she had to offer. Occasionally he even took it.

"Yeah, pretty typical. Ed's got to learn that just because he's bigger than everyone else, it doesn't mean that he can push people around. He'll learn it someday, whether he wants to or not."

"Someone will teach it to him. There's always somebody tougher than you."

"That's what Jim always tries to tell him. Anyway, you wanted to know about Ethan?"

"Yeah. What all did Jim tell him?"

"They talked so much that it would take me a week to tell you what I know, and Jim didn't even tell me most of it. Basically he sees Jim as the kind of man he wants to be, and he asked a lot of questions about how to go about it."

"Ethan wants to be a farmer?"

Tina laughed loudly. "No! Just... the kind of man he wants to be. How Jim relates to people, how he treats people, how he moves through the world. You know, how to grow up."

Brianna didn't know, but she supposed she'd learn more as she lived with Ethan. "He also said there were some girls?"

Another laugh. "Oh yes. Oh my yes. Just one actually, but they were at each other like wildcats."

Brianna was curious, but she still winced. "Did he take precautions?"

"We told him we'd get him all the condoms he needed, and he went through them fast. So he didn't mention Luisa?"

"Not by name, no."

"Alright, let me send you some pictures."

A moment later, Brianna's phone commenced to beeping with a series of pictures of a lovely Hispanic girl of around 20 years, with long, dark hair, brown skin, and a body that most women would step over their grandmothers to get. "My... God," Brianna muttered. "That figure is... well, I understand why he was attracted to her. Are those boobs real?"

"I didn't check, but they sure moved like they were. She's one of Emily's sorority sisters from Indiana State. She's from Peru, here on a student visa, and she desperately didn't want to go home for the summer - I didn't pry, but I got the impression that her family is in a lot of upheaval and she wants to stay out of it. Emily asked if she could bring her here, and I said sure, we can always use another pair of hands."

"How old is she?"

"She turned 21 over the summer. She's in the same year as Emily."

"What did a college girl want with a high school kid?"

Tina chuckled. "She's... got a high drive, and Ethan was the only option. He was kind of overwhelmed at first, but he figured her out pretty quickly - with Jim's advice. Within a couple of weeks she was following him around like a puppy dog, taking his lead in everything."

"Wow, that's... Ethan could barely say three words to a girl when I left for Kansas."

"He doesn't have that problem now," Tina said dryly. "As it turns out, turning a horny coed into your sex doll really builds a guy's confidence. Your son is going to make the right woman incredibly happy - he a natural born dom and thanks to Jim, he knows how to use it."

"Dom?" Dominant? She remembered Lauren telling her about that, about guys who wanted to control women. Her little stringbean was one of those? "That's... a lot to take in."

"Oh come on, going by what you've told me he's known what he wants and had been setting his mind on getting it for a while. It was only a matter of time until he figured out how to apply it to girls."

"I guess I just never thought of him as bullying girls around."

"What? No, that's not it at all, not Ethan - Ed, yes, but not Ethan. Ethan's just got this calm, strong center, just like Jim. Now that he's learning how to use it, it makes women want to do what he wants them to... well, the submissive ones anyway, he'd probably butt heads with one who wasn't. But that's why he was after Jim for so much advice - he saw the relationship Jim and I have and it really clicked with him."

"Jim's a... dom?"

"We've never talked about this, have we? Yes, Jim's a dom and I'm a sub - a submissive."

"So he tells you what to do and you do it?"

"Sometimes. We have an extremely healthy dom/sub relationship. I know Jim loves me and wants to take care of me and protect me, and in return I want to submit to his leadership and direction. Ethan is so much like Jim it's scary."

"I didn't realize..."

"Yes you did - weren't you the one who told me that he's always been the leader of whatever groups he gets into, even when there are older kids in it?"

"Well, yeah."

"And he always tries to solve problems in the group before they start?"

"He does that, but..."

"And he's been telling you what he's going to do since he could speak full sentences, and not the other way around?"

"I didn't know that meant he was a dom. He's really sweet. I thought that doms were supposed to be bullies."

"Most people who call themselves doms, aren't. They're just selfish assholes who want to take everything they can from people they can manipulate. They need a good asswhipping to put them in their place. A good dom, a real dom, wants to make sure their partner is getting as much or more from the relationship than they do. They're caretakers in one way or another. Jim is what we call a 'loving dom,' and Ethan saw that and realized that he was the same way inside."

"I am so confused."

"OK... OK, when Jim and I got into a relationship, I knew he was a dominant and I was a submissive. As we got closer, we had clear conversations about the rules and the power balance so we were always on the same page. He always listens to me and my feelings and ideas, and he always gives them real consideration, but in the end he's the one who makes the rules and I follow them; in return, he makes sure my emotional and physical needs are met."

"And you just do whatever he says no matter what you think?"

"He's in charge, but he's not a tyrant. We talk every single day about where we're at, about what I want and what I need. He recognizes my strengths and my weaknesses and he always asks for my perspective and my advice."

"So he's not in control?"

"Oh he is, but he knows that I sometimes see things in a different way, that I see things he misses just like he sees things I miss. He knows I'm smart and that my perspective and advice are valuable. For example, he lets me run the business side of things because he knows I'm better with finances than he is, but even there I discuss everything with him and get his agreement on every decision I make."

"It sounds like you two are very happy."

"So was Luisa. When things started between her and Ethan, she was the sexually experienced older woman who thought she'd be in charge, but I'm not lying - legit two weeks in and she was acting like a 1950s housewife for him. We didn't get much work out of her because she spent all her time cooking for Ethan, baking for Ethan, chasing Ethan, getting railed by Ethan - "

"I get the picture, I don't need a blow-by-blow description. I guess I'm glad he learned more about who he wants to be. I hope she taught him how to... treat a woman, anyway."

"She seemed very happy with him."

"And he was safe?"

"Jim had a couple of talks with him about it, and he went through rubbers so fast he was either using six a day with Luisa or eating them as snacks."

Brianna didn't quite buy the idea that her son had tamed this girl as thoroughly as Tina said, but at least he had learned how to make her happy and make her like him. That was good enough. "As long as I don't have a grandchild on the way, I'm glad he had a good time. I am way too young to be a grandmother."

Hell, half the women her age weren't even mothers yet.

"Did he cook for you? He said he would,"

"Yes! He made your secret chicken salad for lunch and then I collaborated with him on dinner, which was delicious."

"Good. See? He's taking care of the people he loves."

"I guess he is. I'm glad he had a good time with you guys."

"He certainly seemed to. Oh! Let me tell you about the time he chased down the goat when she escaped from the petting zoo!"

Half an hour of swapped anecdotes later, Brianna hung up the phone and sat thinking. She had no doubt that her son would find himself a girl or three here this coming school year, and that meant that they were going to have to find the money to keep prophylactics on hand for him to use. And right when Harley was losing another job.

*

Later, lying in bed next to her softly snoring husband, staring up at the darkened ceiling, she went over everything she'd learned today about her boy. In truth, her mind was in turmoil. Her little stringbean was a wise, caring 18-year-old. To listen to Tina tell it, he wielded some magic dom power over women. If that was so, there were undoubtedly be plenty of girls in his school who craved that sort of thing and would be drawn to him now that he was, well, gorgeous. He was going to have to be careful not to get derailed by any of them and end up walking the same path she and Harley did. No matter what else he was, he was still just 18 years old

Dom and sub... what did people see in that? Harley was absolutely not a dom, and while they always discussed problems or issues, she was usually the one making the decisions because most often he just wouldn't do it. She had to admit that that was very stressful sometimes, and more than once she had wished that her husband would just handle things. Her father had certainly been in charge, but then her father had been a capital-A Asshole too. She didn't want a husband like that. But one like Jim, who was strong and capable and wanted her to be protected and cared for...

The idea was not unattractive to Brianna. Though she was sure she wasn't a sub, she could definitely see the appeal of giving the reins to an emotionally strong man who wanted the best for her. She could only wonder what it would be like to discuss a problem with her man and then have him make the decision, to have him set the rules, to be able just to do as she was told and concentrate on making him happy. It did sound nice, but that wasn't the life she was living or the kind of partner she had.

The loving dom who slept in the bedroom across the hallway would have that kind of a relationship someday. She hoped that it was with a woman who was worthy of him.

Thursday, August 28

Brianna was leaning up against her car when Olinka came bounding out of the house... and froze in her tracks, eyes wide and jaw literally gaping. Brianna couldn't resist a laugh. "What's the matter?"

Olinka began to move toward the car, almost as confused as Licorice had been the day before. "Mrs. Mitchell?"

"That's me."

"OM fucking G, you look astonishing! You're gorgeous! You look so different."

Brianna did a little twirl with her arms out like a showgirl. "What do you think of the hair? It's too much, isn't it?"

"No! It's perfect, I love it. It's a whole new side of you I never knew existed, but it's great."

Brianna couldn't keep the smile off her face, as she had awoken this morning more inclined to keep her new look than to change it - after all, Ethan had said he liked it, and Harley had backed down from his initial hatred. "Thank you! I like it too."

"What made you change all... everything?"

"I'll tell you all about it, but it's way too hot to do it in the sun. I'll tell you in the car."

She went through the story once more on the way to the clothes store, and as they pulled into the strip mall parking lot, Olinka could only shake her head. "Have Vincent or Jesse seen you yet? Well they're gonna be yucky and inappropriate when they do, just so you know."

"They're good kids."

"You just think that because they're always on their best behavior around you. They're complete pervs."

"Aren't they two of your best friends?"

"I'm a perv too, you've just got the wrong assets for me to perv on."

Brianna chuckled. "Have you seen Ethan yet?"

"Yeah, I came over to your place the day after he got back. You and him, I don't know which one changed more."

"He's a man now."

"Yes he is."

Brianna detected more than a note of wistfulness in her reply; she was pretty sure that whatever crush Olinka had had on her son before was even stronger now. Poor kid. "Ethan told me you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, Nahum. My first real boyfriend... well, he's kind of a friend with benefits, but he's a good guy."

"Benefits, huh? I hope you're being careful."

"It's not like I can get pregnant, and we were both virgins when we got together. Still, we do use condoms... sometimes."

"Kids these days. Hey, can you grab that shopping cart? I have a whole walk-in closet worth of old clothes to get rid of."

When the bags were overtopping the sides of the cart and they were heading into the clothes shop, Olinka asked, "OK, so you know you can't dress like you did before - not with that bod you can't. You have to show it off a little. What kind of style are you thinking?"

"The kind I can afford."

"You need to have some idea of what you want so you can walk out of here with usable outfits and not just a bunch of random pieces." She sounded like Lauren, only less strident. "Come on, let's look around and see what catches your eye."

First they dropped the clothes off at the counter for the shopgirl to sort through and select what would be good for the store and what Brianna would pass along to Goodwill. While that was going on, the two of them wandered, sometimes together and sometimes apart. Every minute or two, Olinka would grab an article of clothing and show it to her, always something dramatically different from what Brianna used to wear when she was much heavier. Brianna was reluctant to try anything too "crazy," but Olinka kept insisting that there was no harm in trying things on.

Olinka brought up something Brianna had never considered: with Brianna's hair being such a vivid magenta, she needed to be careful about the colors she wore. Neutrals were good - blacks, grays, whites, and even navy blue would make her hair really stand out and not clash with it. On the other hand, vivid reds and yellows would compliment her hair and make a complete picture. Based on this, the two settled on bohemian style, with its wonderful colors and gorgeous patterns, and minimalist, with its neutral palette and clean lines that showed off her new figure without actually showing her new figure. Olinka also persuaded her to pick up accent pieces like scarves for both styles, as well as a couple of floppy boho hats.

As Brianna paid (not as much as she had feared, since the store bought most of what she'd brought in), she, Olinka, and salesgirl got into a lively discussion of other accessories Brianna would need: shoes, of course, but also things like sunglasses, watches, and jewelry to fit both styles. It all sounded very expensive, but the salesgirl and Brianna both assured her that these were all things she could pick up piece by piece, and smart shopping could get her a lot of great stuff for very little money. Brianna even spotted some cheap, colorful earrings and a couple of bracelets to go with her bohemian clothing.

From there they swung by Walmart for new underwear (obviously absolutely none of the underwear she had owned before her trip would fit now). She stocked up on necessaries, and even Olinka picked up a couple of cute bras; the girl had sprouted some perky, attractive boobs over the last 18 months, and Brianna was chagrined to note that the young trans woman had grown fulsome B-cups while she, a biological woman, was barely an A anymore. Good for Olinka, Brianna thought - the girl had begun transitioning before puberty and so looked like a bio-woman, but she'd always fretted over her flat chest; now, nobody would look at her and think for a moment that she hadn't been born biologically female.

While they were there, Brianna picked up a pair of sandals to complete her boho look, as well as some cheap jewelry for both styles. Man, a whole new wardrobe was expensive even if you shopped for bargains. It was going to be quite a while before she had enough clothes to not wear the same things every week. She also bought a nice bracelet for Olinka to thank her for blowing one of the last afternoons of summer on her.

"Time to go home and model all this stuff to a captive audience composed of my son," Brianna said as they climbed back into her car.

"Sure, there's nothing a teenage guy likes more than his mom forcing him to watch a fashion show," Olinka laughed. "Thanks for inviting me on this trip, it was fun. I can't wait to see how your style develops."

"I think I'm really going to like the clothes I got. This may sound crazy, but I feel like I'm a completely different person than I was, like I... what's the word..."

"Transitioned?" Olinka asked dryly. "We've both been through big changes, haven't we?"

Brianna agreed that they had, and they chatted like peers all the way back to Olinka's place. Twenty minutes after dropping her off, Brianna was wedging herself and all her bags through the door that led from their garage into the house. Harley wasn't home yet (he always went out with his friends for a few beers after work on Thursday, and Friday evenings were usually spent at the home of the guy with the biggest TV and best sports channel subscriptions) and Ethan was taking advantage of having the house to himself: his door was open and loud reggae, or reggaeton, or reggaesomething was issuing forth. She headed that way, and when she moved into his doorway he looked up, said something she couldn't hear, turned down the music, and said, "Hi. It looks like you had a successful shopping voyage."

"I did! Olinka was a huge help, I couldn't have done it without her. Are you busy?"

He looked at his code-covered computer screen and then back at her before saying, "Kind of. What's up?"

"I want a man's opinion on my outfits, and since your father won't be home until this evening and you decided to grow up over the summer, you're elected."

A blank look of resignation conquered his face. He didn't argue, he just sighed and said, "Alright. When and where?"

"You can stay there, I'll just be in and out of my bedroom." A moment later the "in" part of the equation was happening as she quickly stripped out of her tee shirt and shorts and into a black-and-red boho outfit consisting of a flowy skirt than came down to her knees and a top that was long-sleeved but showed cleavage (or would have done had there been cleavage to show) and left several inches of her midriff bare. This was, she reflected, the most daring outfit she had ever worn, because back when she had the body for it, her father made her dress like a Mennonite, and ever since then she had been too ashamed even to think of something like this. A quick check in the mirror and she was out and into the hallway where Ethan could see her.

Ethan did see her, and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. She couldn't have looked more different from her old self. "Damn, lookin' good, girl."

Girl. Her son had just called her girl. He didn't mean it that way... no matter how he looked at me at the airport yesterday. "You like this one?"

"That one's great! If they all make you look that good, then this was a successful day. Give a spin." Her blush deepened but she did as she was told, twirling 360 on the spot. Ethan did not fail to notice how her loose skirt caught air and lifted to mid-thigh. "Yeah, this one goes on the Win pile, and I expect to see you in that a lot."

She didn't realize how much his words and his tone and his expression were making her blush, just like she didn't realize quite how big her smile was. She almost skipped into her room, coming out a little later in a clingy black blouse and a pair of slate-gray slacks before stopping in his doorway and pirouetting.

It was a completely different effect than the previous outfit, but it had the same effect on Ethan. Like her, he wasn't conscious of how he was seeing her quite differently than he ever had before, but part of him, the animal part, loved seeing her this way. She had become a beautiful woman with long legs, great hips, a fine ass, a narrow waist, and a lovely face, and the man in him was loving what he was seeing, even as the son in him tried to focus on her clothes.

Outfit after outfit, change after change. She looked great in all of them and he told her as much, but always in his tone there was an emphasis he didn't know he was placing and she didn't realize she was hearing. Before the end, though, he had an unexpected erection that needed tending to, which he did as soon as she had gone to cook dinner for them; he did not associate it with his mother or what had just happened, but instead chalked it up to being an 18-year-old who had gotten used to getting laid several times a day but now hadn't gotten any for a week. He was, he decided, going to need a girlfriend.

Brianna, on the other hand, felt a strange urgency she had never felt before. She felt tense, eager for something but with no idea what she was eager for. There was a tingling in her stomach... well, not quite in her stomach, a bit lower down. Her skin felt warm and a little tingly. Had she ever truly been sexually aroused by anyone before, she would easily have recognized it as that, but as it was she could attribute it to nothing except perhaps the excitement of getting started on building a new wardrobe and the joy she had felt at Ethan's obvious delight in every outfit she'd tried for him. Whatever the cause, and even though it left her feeling oddly incomplete, she decided she liked it very much.

Both of them had themselves under control by the time dinner was ready - Ethan had whacked it to one of the videos he'd taken of Luisa and himself fucking like bunnies, and Brianna had simply focused on making the food and eventually the feeling had gone away on its own. They chatted while they ate, and it was roughly in the middle of dinner when she asked, "Do you have your slideshow ready for tonight?"

"Aw crap, I forgot all about it," he said. "I've been working so hard all day. I'll do it as soon as we're done eating. I took so many pictures and videos that it's going to be a problem finding the best ones."

"You'll probably be pretty bored during mine. Most of my pictures are to show your dad how far Lutton has declined since we left."

"The way you guys talk, I didn't think it was possible for it to go downhill from where it was."

"Degradation digs its own cellar."

"So there was really no bright spot? I mean aside from Grandma and you getting into shape?"

"You want to know the brightest spot? Valerie Froelich. She was this complete cun - um, bitch to me in high school, after I got pregnant you. She was a cheerleader, and every time she saw me she called me fatass slut. Every time. Not long after I got back there, I saw her in town - she probably weighed 250 pounds and she had five kids by three different men, and she still called me fatass slut again. In my last week there, after I'd lost all the weight, I saw her again at the gas station and she didn't say a damned thing. That was a bright spot."

"Sticking it to the haters always feels good."

"Yes it does."

*

After dinner, both adjourned to their respective bedrooms to put their selected media onto USB drives, so that when Harley came home a couple of hours later, they were ready. Harley changed clothes and they all settled down in the living room; he still maintained enough of a buzz from his drinking that he was in a good mood. Brianna went first, showing pictures and video cataloging her own weight loss journey as well as Grandma's recovery. From there she segued into photos of the few decent people they knew who still lived there, including their just-retired high school English teacher whom they'd both loved. After that came picture after picture of their old hometown and the people who inhabited it, settlement and humans alike all ruined and decaying where they stood. Homes of childhood friends stood boarded up and graffiti-covered; people were drug-ravaged scarecrows with scabs and missing teeth; the old middle school they'd both attended was now an empty lot after it was closed and then, shortly after that, burned down. She'd taken a video of her driving once each way through what had been downtown, with one side entirely boarded up and the other entirely vacant after its own fire.

"Jesus Christ," Harley said at some point. "It looks like a war passed through there. There's really nothing left."

"Not a thing worth remembering except my mom."

Harley was quiet and thoughtful for the rest of Brianna's pictures.

Ethan swapped his mom's drive for his own and took the remote control. He started out with pictures of his aunt and her family: Tina, barely taller than her sister but with a curvy build and vibrant auburn hair ("She got the good looks in the family," Brianna observed ruefully); Uncle Jim, tall and farm-strong, handsome, with a way of looking into the camera that conveyed his commanding nature; Emily, a pretty college girl who looked more like her dad than her mother; Ed, big as a barn with dull, piggish eyes and a permanent sneer; Dolf, whose smile was as big as the rest of him put together. Then came the house and the outbuildings, the tractor and other equipment, the silo where he'd been deluged in rotting silage. Only then did he show a picture of Luisa, gorgeous and built for wet dreams; he merely said that she was from Peru, one of Emily's college friends who spent the summer there too.

"She's really hot," his dad observed. "Don't tell me you spent the whole summer with her and didn't try anything."

Ethan shrugged and only admitting to spending time with her, the same as he spent time with everyone else there. Brianna almost choked, but she managed to keep it together and not reveal her son's secret; he obviously felt it was better than they didn't know what he and Luisa had really gotten up to so he didn't have to answer questions, and Lord knew she was content asking and learning nothing.

From there he moved on to the various activities he'd been involved in: selfies with Jim doing various types of farmwork, a couple shots of Tina teaching him cooking, trimming trees in the orchard, many in the petting zoo with the various animals (and Dolf, who loved having his picture taken above all else, photobombing more than half). There were pictures and video of the swimming hole, including one of Ethan swinging off the bluff and cannonballing with an enormous splash, as well as the same media from one of their trips into Fort Wayne - eating at McDonald's, pouring into a movie theater, a few of landmarks such as the old titular fort and the Railroad Historical Society (both of which he found fascinating).

Brianna watched with interest. She had seen her sister's farm only from social media updates, and she found it very pretty. She would never want to live there - she had found her home in the city - but she could see what Tina loved. She could also see in Jim's face the various things that Tina had said about him and, now that she knew what to look for, she saw those same things echoed in her son's face. It was still a foreign thought: her own son a dominant man, making that stunning Luisa beg, maybe soon making Olinka or some other lucky girl beg too.

She could feel that same sensation she had felt when making dinner rising up again, and she still didn't know what it meant.

There followed a succession of random videos and pictures - other kids he'd met, Ed's girlfriend (a frightened-looking little thing), random activities, funny things that had happened. It all looked like a clean, wholesome good time -

And then he advanced to the next video, which turned out to be of Luisa flat on her back, naked as the day she was born, huge tits bouncing as he fucked her clearly-visible pussy with his condom-covered cock. She heard his voice saying, "Are you my little fucktoy?", Luisa pausing in her moans of pre-orgasmic ecstasy to manage, "Si papi, your dirty little cumslut, please fuck me!"

Everyone in the room froze for a few instants that seemed like an eternity as sounds of a woman's passion, a sloppy-wet pussy getting hammered to oblivion and back, and Ethan's own grunts. Ethan called Luisa a dirty little whore, Luisa begged to be fucked harder with his big cock like the dirty little whore she was for him. Then, as though a lightning bolt shot up his ass, Ethan lurched forward and hammered the remote to turn it off; unfortunately, haste and adrenaline made him clumsy, and the remote leaped out of his hand, deflected off the coffee table, and bounded off in an unseen direction.

That was her son having sex with that girl, railing her viciously and making her love it. It was his cock going in and out of her, longer and much thicker than his father's. It was him controlling this girl, owning her, making her beg for more of what he was already giving her...

But none of that was what hit the hardest: it was the sounds Luisa was making: moans that sounded like they came from the basement of her soul, ranging from high-pitched to guttural, and all of them in a tone that Brianna had never heard a woman use. There was desperation in it, real and unfeigned, and so much pleasure that it couldn't be put into words, and they went on and on. In her wildest dreams, Brianna could never have conceived of anything so purely erotic.

And her son was the cause of it.

After almost a minute of frantic scrambling, Ethan recovered the remote from where it had landed under the sofa and turned off the television. He knelt where he was for a time, silently mortified, staring at the floor. Harley sat with a poorly-concealed smirk on his face, eyes flicking back and forth between son and wife. Brianna sat on the sofa with eyes wide and her face red and hot, not speaking, not moving a muscle, not even seeing what was in front of her because her mind was replaying the video she had just seen of her son making Luisia moan with pleasure.

After a few seconds, Ethan said, "I think I'm going to go to my bedroom now." Without another word he stood, recovered his USB drive, and hurried away without looking at either of his parents.

Harley waited until he heard his son's door close before covering his mouth and bursting into laughter. "Oh my god!" he finally managed to say. "It looks like Ethan learned an awful lot this summer."

Brianna didn't reply, and it was only after a few seconds that she realized Harley had even spoken. Slowly, mechanically, she turned her head to face him and asked, "What?"

He snorted. "You OK? You look like a cartoon cat who just got bonked in the head with a shovel."

"I... uh... yeah. Tina told me that he had gotten together with that girl over the summer, but I didn't..."

"It looked like Ethan was just as surprised as we were that the video came up. At least he was wearing a rubber."

"I... didn't notice," she lied; fortunately her face was already at maximum blush so nothing gave away her untruth. She absolutely had noticed her son's cock: its girth, the shining wetness of Luisa's juices on the condom, and especially the way he used it to make her emit those sounds.

"Should I go have a talk with him?"

"Yes... no. No. I think he was already embarrassed enough, and if he was being safe..."

"Yeah, you're right. He was just being a modern kid, videoing everything he does. Maybe in a few days we can caution him about not recording anything he doesn't want the whole world to see."

"Hmmm? Oh... yes. We can do that."

Harley practically giggled and repeated, "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. I just never thought I'd see a porn movie starring my son. It's going to take a while to get used to the idea."

"That's a bit of an overstatement. I'm sure he just made that video for his own use, not for public consumption."

She hoped that was true, but kids posted all kinds of things on the internet that they really should keep to themselves. They talked for a couple more minutes, but he was tired at the end of a stressful work week and he soon went back to their bedroom to take a shower and get some sleep. She stayed in the living room, idly stroking Licorice in her lap, her mind rolling so much that she had a hard time thinking of anything for more than a few minutes at a stretch. She ended up watching TV; there was nothing good on because they could afford no premium channels, so she ended up staring at almost three hours of cooking shows. It was well past her bedtime when she turned everything off, double-checked the locks on the doors, and headed back.

*

hey uncle Jim you around?

I was just headed to bed. What's up?

I did something so amazingly stupid

What?

We were having a show of pics and stuff from summer and I accidentally included a video of me and Luisa in bed

Three minutes passed, then:

I just told your aunt. When she stopped laughing, she said she told your mom all about it yesterday

Oh god

She says your mom took it well

How did they react?

They didn't

I ran back to my room

How do I handle this?

What does a man do when he does something wrong?

He faces the consequences of his actions without flinching

There you go then

Don't sweat it

It will be fine

Parents know their kids will have sex sooner or later

Yeah

OK, thanks

*

Brianna found Harley in bed with the lights on, tablet on his chest, sleeping soundly. Gently she moved his device to his nightstand, turned out his light, and went into the bathroom to change for bed. As she undressed, she realized something that had always been true, but had been true for so long that she had all but forgotten about it: she and Harley almost never saw each other naked. Before her weight loss she had been eager to hide her body from everyone, including him, and he had not been eager to see it, or to have her see his. They had been married and shared a bed for 14 years, lived in each other's space as closely as two people could, but she barely remembered if he had any distinguishing marks.

Now she stood naked in front of her full-length mirror, surveying her new body. She looked good, and compared to how she had looked since Ethan was born, she looked stunning. She was healthy, lean, strong without being muscly, and her hair really did make her look much younger than her real age, as Ethan and Olinka had told her. The image looking back at her could have been grad student.

If I go somewhere with Ethan now, people might think we're a couple.

The idea curled her lip in a smile. Ethan now looked older than his age, and very likely nobody would look twice if they saw her on his arm. Lord, how embarrassed he would be - but what a compliment for her! And in an instant she saw Luisa on her back, tits flying, screaming in bliss as Ethan pummeled her with his big dick -

"Gah!" she said, tearing herself away from her reflection and reaching for her pajama pants. Even in summer, she had always worn long pants to bed, she was used to it... but why should she? She usually ended up so hot she had to kick the blanket off her legs before she could sleep. She had nothing to be ashamed of, and even if she did, she should not be ashamed to show skin around her husband. She put her panties back on and then went into the walk-in closet that opened off the bathroom. In a moment she had found what she was looking for: one of Harley's old tee shirts, so soft and thin by use that he seldom wore it anymore. She pulled it over her head and let it fall (it came down almost to her knees), then pulled on a pair of booties. Shortly thereafter she was settling into her side of the bed.

Sleep didn't come. She was tired, but she still wound up tossing and turning before giving up and simply staring into the darkness.

The sounds were keeping her awake.

Of course she couldn't hear them anymore - they had gone silent when Ethan had frantically turned off the television - but they were preventing sleep just the same. Why had Luisa made noises like that? Was it a Peruvian thing? Something college girls did? Was it a performance to puff up Ethan's ego?

Even as she asked herself those things, she knew that none of her excuses were true. Luisa had made those incredibly erotic sounds because Ethan had fucked them out of her, pure and simple. She had made those sounds because what he was doing to her, how he was doing it, how well he was doing it, made it impossible not to make those sounds. Those sounds were honest and Brianna simply couldn't understand why.

Brianna herself had never made noises like that. In their 14 years of marriage, she and Harley had had sex barely a dozen times and not at all in the past five years or more, but she couldn't recall ever making any sounds when it had happened. Harley had simply climbed atop her, put it in, moved silently for a couple of minutes, and then rolled over and said good night. What was there to be noisy about?

Of course, Ethan was much more vigorous about it than Harley had ever been. He'd rolled his hips when he thrust in, making his penis enter at a sort of upward-thrusting angle; was that it? It had to be something, because every time be slid back inside her, Luisia had a passionate moan driven out of her mouth.

Was it his size? She couldn't tell how big he was down there, but then she had never seen Harley's hard either (the lights had been out every time they'd made love) so she couldn't make a proper comparison. Still, she was certain Ethan's was at least somewhat longer and a lot thicker. It was so thick, in fact, that she found it intimidating; surely something that size couldn't feel good being slammed in and out. Maybe it was so big that it didn't leave room inside the girl's lungs for air, so she had to moan it out?

No, that was nonsense. Lauren had taken many a dick in her life and she had always said that once a member got over about four inches, it was not size but skill that determined how good it felt. In fact, she'd described her ex-husband, whom she had only married because of how good he was in bed, as "average" in size. And anyway, Ethan couldn't be that much bigger than his father - if he had a baseball bat crammed down the front of his pants, there would have been no way she couldn't have noticed it before now.

And the words they'd said! Fucktoy, cumslut, others - they were so crude and insulting, the sorts of names nobody should ever call another person or themselves. But they hadn't sounded bad when those two said them, but rather extremely erotic and even loving. The very thought of those words brought the heat back and gave her a mysterious, empty ache between her legs, and once again she heard her son asking, Are you my little fucktoy? Are you my little fucktoy?

It was going to be a long night.

*

In the bedroom across the hallway, Ethan was just turning off his computer. He had stayed up far too late and he was going to have a hard time getting up for his run in the morning, but there was no way he could sleep after that fucking fiasco in the living room. How could he have been so careless?

Of course he knew exactly how - he had put off assembling his slide show until late, and then he'd had to hurry. He'd had to sort through hundreds of pictures and videos in the quickest way possible, and he'd made a mistake - a mortifying, shattering mistake, but a mistake all the same.

God, how utterly humiliating! When that vid had come on, he'd frozen like a popsicle for what felt like an hour and a half while his parents looked on. And then he'd compounded things by being a clumsy moron and spaz-throwing the remote under the fucking couch! He was never going to live this down.

Neither of his parents had moved an inch during the video, and neither of them had said a word as he fled back to his little sanctuary. Uncle Jim had assured him that it was no big, but Ethan was worried he was wrong. His mom hadn't even knocked on his door to wish him good night the way she always did. She - they - must be livid, not to mention humiliated, as though he didn't feel enough humiliation for all three of them.

He was going to get it, of that he had no doubt, whatever it turned out to be. Uncle Jim and Aunt Tina had always been cool about it, seeing as their room was the next one over and, within a few days of his arrival, they had resumed their normal sexual activities; they got feisty on the other side of that wall. He'd first screwed Luisa on his second day there, and they had been careful to do it in the hay barn, away from prying eyes and snooping ears. Uncle Jim had immediately realized the change in their relationship, however, and after a week of Ethan and Luisa sneaking around, he'd taken Ethan aside, handed him a box of condoms, and told him that a man should take his woman to bed at night. After that, it got feisty on both sides of the wall. He'd also given him lube, but they'd only used it for anal because Luisa got very wet, very easily.

It had been an amazing time. When he hadn't been working with Uncle Jim and absorbing his wisdom or learning how to cook with Aunt Tina, he was more than likely screwing around with Luisa. As a healthy 18-year-old boy he was never more than 5 seconds from an erection, and to his amazement Luisa was just as thirsty as he was. She was sex-hungry all the time, and at college she could get all the D she wanted with a snap of her fingers; on the farm, however, the only option had been the semi-scrawny kid from New Kent, and so she had told him that she intended to keep his dick busy all summer long.

It wasn't as though he'd had objections to it; before he went to the farm he could barely talk to a girl except as friends. Losing his virginity was revelatory, though he supposed it was that way for pretty much everyone. It wasn't as though he'd been any good at it to start, of course, but she'd given him tons of practice; three days in, when he'd fucked her to an orgasm for the first time, they'd both been stunned but delighted. He could remember how he'd felt like the biggest man in the world when her eyes had gone wide that first time and she gave him the sweet, shrieking moan that she made when she climaxed. After that, she was hornier for him than ever.

Of course, Uncle Jim gave advice then as always, telling him that if he actually wanted to be a dom and not just act like one, he needed to learn to please a woman; that way, she would trust him enough to focus her whole attention on pleasing him in return. A good dom always made sure his partner got what they needed, because a good dom took care of the people he cared about. He'd given him concrete advice, good advice; as the days went by and Ethan had put that advice into practice, Luisa at first became more comfortable and then more eager, gradually ceding control to him. He'd insisted she teach him how to please a woman in and out of bed, how to please her, and he absorbed the lessons with the avidity of a star pupil. Within a couple of weeks, she was calling him papi and eagerly doing things for him, sexually and otherwise.

There had been emotions there - how could there not have been? Luisa had started it just as a way to get her itch scratched for a few months, but the connection between them had been powerful. She'd told him that he was the first man to make her feel like a real woman in a way she hadn't even known was possible. For his part, she was his first, his teacher, and the first woman he'd molded to be what he'd wanted her to be and what she'd needed to be for her own happiness. It hadn't reached the level of Love with a capital L, because they both knew their relationship, like milk, came with a definite expiration date; trying to maintain it long-distance was both pointless and foolish, given their difference in age and experience. Still, he had barely fought back his tears on their last night together, and she hadn't tried to fight hers at all. In the end they told each other that they would remember; and then he had gone back to New Kent, and she to Terre Haute, and that was it.

It wasn't as though he was ashamed of his relationship with Luisa, but he had avoided telling his mom because he knew she would ask questions, the answers to which she would be unprepared to hear. And now here it was, out in the fucking open with all those questions demanding responses. Fuck.

When he'd gotten back to his room he'd wanted only to distract himself from his shame, so he'd thrown himself into the bug list and demolished much of it in a concentrated frenzy of effort. In spite of how it had begun, it had turned out to be a very productive evening. He'd worked later than he'd intended, but he'd been on a roll - and he hadn't wanted to cease activity, because if he did he'd be forced to think, and who wanted that? But time was the avenger and by the end he was so tired he was making more mistakes than he was fixing, so he'd packed things up.

He'd masturbated to thoughts of Luisa (he was an 18-year-old kid, he wasn't going to sleep without masturbating to something), flushed the evidence, brushed his teeth, and headed to bed. Now that he was here and trying to relax, of course, the scene in the living room was playing on repeat in his head and he was miserable. And if tonight was bad, facing his parents tomorrow was going to be hell.

Friday, August 29

As he approached his house at the end of his morning run, Ethan was pretty sure he was leaving a sweat trail so heavy a shark could follow him without getting dry. In a month or so this activity would be a lot more pleasant as the seasons changed, but for now it was something to be survived. Still, his time had been good and he felt alright, all things considered.

Most of the houses in the neighborhood were a little bigger than the one his family lived in, and almost all of them sat on bigger lots, but he had never cared about that. Home was home, and most of his neighbors didn't stick around long enough to get to know and thus get jealous of.

An exception to that rule was Sindee Norman, who lived in the tidy, well-maintained yellow house directly across the street. She had lived there with her husband when the Mitchells had moved in, and she and the son they later had were still there; the husband was long gone. Sindee was always a nice, pleasant, charming neighbor, and his mother hated her with a fiery passion. Most of the neighborhood women did, because Sindee had earned herself a reputation.

Sindee was a work-from-home freelance graphic designer, and apparently she was quite well-thought-of in her field. She was also tall, pretty, and bottle-blonde, and her fanaticism for personal health had given her a hard body that belied her 42 years of age. She had almost no fat on her at all, and rumor had it that she supplemented her income doing nude fitness modeling or even porn online. She was pretty enough for it.

But none of that was why she had her reputation. Her marriage had ended in divorce when her husband caught her in bed with two men at the same time; the ensuing scream-fight on their front lawn was still spoken of in hushed tones in the Mitchell household. Since then, his mother said, Sindee had "screwed half the husbands in the neighborhood and at least a quarter of the wives;" Ethan was reasonably sure that was an exaggeration, even if it wasn't exaggerated much. There was a constant parade of men (and sometimes women) in and out of the house, occasionally broken by a destructive act by a jilted lover (either that of Sindee or whomever Sindee was screwing) that left Sindee's lawn torn up, her windows broken, or, on one memorable occasion, all of the offending husband's clothes and personal items piled on her lawn, doused with gasoline, and lit on fire.

That information flashed through Ethan's mind as he approached his house, because Sindee Norman was in her yard across the street, watering her geraniums with a hose while wearing skin-tight black bike shorts and a minimal sports bra that was plainly designed to show off her breasts more than hold them in place during exercise. She looked up as he came to the sidewalk in front of his house, and her eyes got wide. "Ethan?" she called. "Is that you?"

"It's me," he answered, moving toward her so he wouldn't have to shout across the street when so many people were still asleep. "How are you, Ms. Norman?"

"I think you'd better call me Sindee, seeing as how you're obviously all grown up now. Come over here, let me get a look at you." Ethan did so, crossing the street to stand on her sidewalk. She approached him, standing a few feet away and taking him in from head to toe to head again, a smile curling her lip. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while."

"With my aunt and uncle on their farm in Indiana. I just got back a few days ago."

"I barely recognized you. All that fresh air and hard work clearly did you good."

"I guess so, thanks."

"You grew some mice muscles. You're looking great."

The way she said it made it impossible to mistake for an innocent compliment, and even if he somehow had, the way her eyes were eating him up would have made things clear enough by themselves. She wasn't his type, but she was a pretty woman expressing sexual interest in him, and he popped a boner with alacrity only achievable by a healthy young man; even though he instantly shifted his stance to conceal it as best he could, her sharp eyes missed nothing, and her smile became a knowing smirk. "Oh, thanks. That's, um, that's really nice of you to say, thanks."

Her eyes were positively smoldering, and she reached out and felt one of his shoulder without being invited. "Wow, you're really strong now. Do you work out, besides running?"

"I did before I left, and I didn't need to on the farm. I'd like to now, but I can't really afford a gym, and the one at school will be monopolized by the kids doing fall sports."

She pounced like a lioness on a gazelle. "I have a kickass home setup. I use it all the time, I never even go to the gym, and I think I look OK. What do you think?"

Against his will, he looked her up and down, from her lean calves and powerful thighs to her strong shoulders and arms, and everything in between. He had to admit her body was a work of art, and being so close to her like this was making it hard to remember why he'd thought she wasn't exactly his type. "I think you look fantastic, yeah."

"You are absolutely adorable when you blush... and you're pretty damned good when you don't, too. I'll tell you what: I'm home almost all the time, and I'd be happy to have you use my setup whenever you want. We can work out together."

Oh god, his boner. "I wouldn't want to impose..."

She nibbled her lower lip. "Oh, you can impose on me whenever you want, I don't mind."

"But you work from home, I'd be interfering..."

"The nice thing about being freelance is I can set my own schedule. I can work around any... distractions."

Ethan was starting to think that the next step was Sindee inviting him in then and there and banging him on the living room floor; this was a prospect not without its attractions, but if his parents found out, they would lose their shit - especially his mom, who had never said a good thing about Sindee Norman that he could remember. "I'll, um, I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that, Ethan. It was good seeing you."

"Thanks, Ms. Norman - er, Sindee. You too." He turned away and headed back to his own side of the street before this could progress any further, and he was painfully aware that Sindee watched him go. He walked around back, did his cool down stretches in the tiny back yard while his erection slowly died, and entered the kitchen through the patio door.

His mom was there, fixing herself breakfast. She looked up as he came in, and the moment their eyes met, vivid memories of the previous evening flooded his brain and he blushed from his toes to his scalp. "Uhhhmmm... hi."

Brianna had braced herself for this moment since she'd awakened this morning from her fitful sleep. Even with all that preparation, it was still hard to meet her boy's eyes. She managed it though, and even included a "Good morning, how are you?"

"Fine," he muttered. "Good morning. Gonna take a shower."

"Scoot, you smell like a monkey house." That was what she'd said to him at bath time since he was a little boy. It was the most normal and comforting thing she could think of at the moment; she just hoped her own embarrassment didn't show in her voice.

Ethan, of course, was wallowing too deeply in his own shame to notice anyone else's discomfort, so he moved through the kitchen as fast as he could, grabbed some fresh clothes from his bedroom, and headed for the shower. He has just stripped the last of his clothes off when there was a rapping at the door and his mother called, "Ethan?"

"YES! I'm - don't come in!" he cried, hiding his recurrent stiffie behind his hand in spite of the fact that nobody could see him but himself.

"I didn't plan on it," his mother replied. "I just wanted to know what you wanted in your omelet."

"Oh." And now he felt even more like an idiot. "The usual I guess - maybe some extra chorizo?"

"Understood. Go get clean."

What the fuck. I have to settle down, I'm nervous as a chihuahua. He stood outside the tub, waiting for the shower to heat up, and then finally stepped inside, letting the water wash away his sweat.

Out in the kitchen, Brianna was chopping the contents of her son's morning meal: onions, bell peppers, jalapenos, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, and chorizo (they had always been a sausage family rather than a bacon one); that, combined with four large eggs and a handful of shredded cheese and added to by toast with strawberry jam, would make Ethan's favorite breakfast. She had made omelets countless times for herself and the two men in her life, and her hands moved without her mind needing to direct them. Normally that was a good thing, as it left her mind free to think about the rest of her day; now, though, it was a bad thing because it left her mind free to think about last night.

The video had been the last thing she'd thought of as she drifted into sleep the night before and the first thing she thought about when she woke up. It was burned into her mind like a brand into a cow's skin, and she couldn't stop it from playing and replaying in her brain. The way Luisa's ample breasts had wobbled and sloshed with each hard thrust, the way her boy's cock looked as it opened her wide, the way she had moaned and mewled and begged for more, harder, deeper...

It was during that reverie that her mind took the next unbidden and unwanted step: down the hall, behind a door and a curtain, her son was showering. She had no conscious desire to think about what her mind gave her next: crystal-clear images of water flowing down over the hard, tanned planes and angles of her son's torso, coursing lower to run off his hard butt or sheet from his thick cock like a waterfall -

With a sound of dismay, Brianna slammed the knife onto the counter and leaned over onto the heels of both hands, staring at the white and green and red of the vegetables and trying hard to rid her mind of the images. They were just so damned vivid, as vivid as the memories of the way her son split Luisa open with a penis too big to fit comfortably, but which must nevertheless have felt wonderful.

God, what is it like to feel so good that you make those noises?

She shook her head fiercely, picked up the knife, and resumed chopping, ignoring her hard nipples and the unexplained hungry vacancy she felt low down in her abdomen.

Only a few minutes later, Ethan was hungrily buzzsawing through his meal while she washed the pan and the cutting board that wouldn't fit into the dishwasher. He had said thanks for her efforts and told her it was good, same as always, but after that he looked down at his plate and did his best to not even look at his mom.

It was Brianna who broke the silence: "What are your plans for the day?"

"Hammering away on that bug list, that's all."

"School starts in four days. Don't you want to get out and enjoy the end of summer?"

"We want to get all the bugs squashed so we can get the game out the door on Monday. We can do it, but Vincent and I are going to have to spend every second on it to get it done. We plan to get the last of the list done today, shoot it out to playtesters tonight, spend the weekend fixing whatever else crops up, and bam, done on Labor Day. Then I'll really be able to relax."

"Just in time to start worrying about school." But Brianna knew that Ethan didn't really worry about school, not even the advanced placement classes he was in. He was even going to be taking college-level computer courses at Alcuin State this semester and next, but he didn't seem any more worried about them than his other classes. Indeed, worry seemed pointless, since her little stringbean had never brought home anything but A's on his report cards.

"Everybody's gotta worry about something," he replied. "Isn't that what life's about?"

"Are you forty-five years old?"

"When I was your age," he creaked, "we didn't have shoes. We had to wear raccoons on our feet. What do you have on the docket for today?"

"More shopping. I think I mentioned I want to start yoga, so I need clothes, a mat, maybe some books and instructional aids. As long as I spend less than I would spend at a studio, I'll be happy."

"I've always heard you should start yoga in a class, so you learn the basics right. You could hurt yourself otherwise."

"Well... I've read that too. We just can't afford it."

"When I was coding last night I took a little break and looked up beginner-level yoga classes. There are a bunch of 5-star studios in the city that offer multi-week noob courses for less than fifty bucks. You can barely get a decent pair of yoga pants for that. It's a good investment. I want you to do it."

There was something in his tone as he said that froze her on the spot. It reminded her of how he'd spoken to Luisa. After several seconds, she finally shook herself and said, "Well, if you want me to."

"I do. Not only did you lose all that weight to get healthy, you're doing what you need to in order to stay healthy." Finally he turned his head to look at her. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," she said, suddenly blushing for no reason that she could figure. She turned back to the dishes, and a moment later said, "I'm proud of you too. Getting your game to the finish line has been long time coming and a lot of work, but you stuck with it."

"Thanks. I cannot wait until it's done."

"I'll buy a copy."

"You'd better!" he laughed. The tension had been defused. "It would be pretty sad if I couldn't even get my mom to pick one up."

"Yesterday, Olinka said it was one of the best games she'd ever played, like the most addictive?"

"She's prejudiced."

"I guess she and Vincent think it has a chance to sell some real copies, like aside from just your circle."

He laughed. "Well, it's fun to hope. I know better."

"Don't be so negative. Wouldn't it be nice if it blew up?"

"Of course it would, same as it would be nice if I won the lottery or made a ton of viral content. But things are what they are, and you have to deal with them like they are."

"Hmmph." She had told him that a thousand times over the years, and here he was telling her the same thing. At least he'd been paying attention.

After breakfast, Ethan beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom and began burrowing into his code, while she began investigating yoga classes. Quickly she found what she was looking for: Harlech River Yoga and Meditation Center in Andrewsville, the perpetually beating heart of the bourgeoisie in New Kent, offering three weeks of unlimited beginner courses to novices for a total of $39.99. And it was barely 15 minutes from her front door!

She hit an exercise store for the needed yoga mat, but their clothes were more expensive than she could afford so she went to Target. It was only when she tried a pair of yoga pants on that she realized just how tight and form-fitting they were - they looked like they were painted on. Looking at herself in the dressing room mirror, she was suddenly struck by panic at the very thought of going out in public dressed like this. She looked nakeder wearing these than she would look if she was actually naked! It was scandalous. Women like her did not dress this way!

Wait... women like her? Women like what, exactly?

The answer, of course, was obvious: fat women women with zero self-esteem who wanted nothing more than to go unnoticed by the world didn't dress this way. That was what she'd been her whole life, and the mindset was still burned deep in her brain. But that's not what she was anymore - she was healthy, she was happy with her new shape, and she had literally nothing to be ashamed of. Twisting around to see her backside in the mirror, she had to admit that her butt looked good; it wasn't the cartoonishly bloated ass that was in fashion these days, but she'd always thought that looked absurd anyway. And beyond that, her legs looked good; her ankles looked good. Women who didn't look half as good as she did from the waist down wore yoga pants all the time, so what was she worried about? She could totally pull this off!

It turned out the pants were on clearance, so she wound up with four pair in different colors. Yoga bras came next; it wasn't as though she had anything to restrain, but she had to wear something above the waist and yoga bras seemed pretty standard from what she'd read online. The tops cost considerably more than the bottoms did, so she only bought two of them. Underwear was next, and the consensus among the posts she'd read was that thongs were best to wear under yoga pants, so she picked up a package of those - she'd never worn a thong in her life, but then she'd never done yoga or had purple hair either; it was a time of change.

She headed home and signed up for the introductory class package.

Saturday, August 30

"HANNAH! OH MY GOD!" Lauren's cry rang out across the restaurant as she bounded toward the table where Brianna sat. "YOU LOOK AMAZING!"

Brianna chuckled as she stood and spread her arms. "Wow, look at you. You got your left sleeve finished."

"Yeah, like four months ago," Lauren replied, speaking now that she was close enough to be heard without yelling. "What do you think?"

Lauren was Brianna's opposite in many ways: tall where Brianna was short, vibrantly redheaded where Brianna's natural hair color would best be described as neutral, always thin when Brianna had been fat, bold where Brianna had always been meek, sexually voracious where Brianna thought of herself as asexual. She was also extremely heavily tattooed, with bright, flashy designs on both arms from shoulder to mid-forearm, chest, stomach, back, butt, right leg from hip to mid-calf, and now crawling partially down her left leg; since Lauren worked at a conservative money-management company, all of her ink could be covered by a long-sleeved blouse and a maxi skirt.

"It looks fucking great. I love the roses."

"Thanks, me too. My artist is a genius."

"And now the left leg."

"I know, I'm almost where I want to be. It's gonna be great when I can finally see my vision on my skin, all complete. I'm gonna miss the needle, though."

Brianna had never understood it, but Lauren always insisted that getting tattooed - the process, not the results - was as addictive as heroin. "I guess. What are you going to do then?"

"Dunno. Join Human Canvases Anonymous, I guess. But enough about me, let me look at you!" Brianna did a twirl, struck a couple of playful poses, and Lauren gave a wolf-whistle as Brianna sat down. "God damn girl, imagine all the fun we could have had in college if you looked like this then."

"I was married with a young kid when we were in college. We would have had exactly as much fun as we actually did."

"Hot guys would have been hitting on you all the time. How long do you think you could have held out against that?"

"Don't be silly."

"Hot girls would have been hitting on you too. You telling me you wouldn't have dabbled in the vagina?"

"I was married. I still am married. And I'm straight."

"Nobody's straight." Brianna said that a lot. "And Jordan was married, it didn't even slow him down."

"And look how well that worked out for him." Jordan was Lauren's ex-husband; they'd been married for four years, produced two kids, and now divorced for almost one year.

"Just saying, if you'd have gone nuts in college and fucked all the guys and girls you could get, you could have been rid of Harley for more than a decade by now."

"Don't. How are the kids?"

Lauren beamed and spent the next ten minutes talking about four-year-old Ashley and two-year-old Grayson. This was Jordan's weekend with the kids, and all concerned were lucky that Jordan was a as good and loving a father as he was a bad husband; he and Lauren got along much better now that their only point of contact was their children.

Inevitably, though, that topic worked its way to a conclusion. They ordered and, as the waiter was walking away with their menus, Lauren asked with faux casualness, "Sooooo... got any more pictures of Ethan?"

"Oh for the love of - "

"Do you or don't you?"

Of course Brianna did, she'd taken a bunch since she got back; she just didn't want her best friend to drool on her phone. Lauren kept it up, and eventually Brianna's pride in her son won out and she pulled some up and handed her phone to the other woman. "And don't say anything dirty, you colossal stinky pervert. I'm his mother."

To her credit, nothing Lauren said as she thumbed through the photos was dirty; inappropriate, however, was on full display. Mostly she just made noises like, "Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm" or, "Ooooooohhh," but twice she said, "Yummy!" and once she said, "Hot damn!"

"That's it, give me that back. Weirdo." Brianna took her phone from her friend.

"Weirdo? Listen, you do understand that your son is objectively hot AF, right?"

"He's my son."

"Because he's your son, you can't admit he's hot?"

"A mother isn't supposed to think of her son that way."

"So you do think he's hot!"

"What?"

"If you hadn't thought about it, you would have just said so. Instead you said a mother's not supposed to think that way, which means you have thought that way."

"Ohh, fuck you," she sighed. "Fine, yes, I've noticed he's very handsome. When I got off the plane... look, you can't give me shit about this, OK?"

"OK."

"I know that look, Lauren. Promise me."

She held for a hand with her little finger extended and said, "I swear I will not give you shit about what you're about to tell me."

Brianna hooked pinkies and shook. "OK, when I got off the plane, Ethan was there to pick me up. Only he'd changed so much that I didn't recognize him, so... I had a little fantasy about the hot young man checking me out."

"He checked you out too?"

"I don't have the same experience you do with guys eyeing me up, but I'm pretty sure that's what it was. He told me he didn't recognize me either."

"Wow." Pause. "What did you fantasize about?"

"I fantasized about you minding your own business - I know, I imagined the impossible. The point is, yes, I am aware he's a very good-looking young man."

Lauren laughed merrily. "Look at you! You're always telling me how sex isn't even something you think about, and the first time you see a hot young guy since you lost all that weight, you imagine him putting your ankles in the air."

"I fantasize sometimes!" Brianna said, a little too sharply. "I can just separate my fantasies from reality. I've read a lot of books with sex scenes in them, of course I'm going to think about them occasionally."

"So you know those little high school ho's are going to lay siege to your house, right? You're gonna need, like, a moat and a security fence and a pack of attack dogs to keep them out of his bedroom."

"He does appear irresistible to young women," Brianna conceded, and an instant later she slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she'd just said.

Lauren arched her brow and said, "Spill it."

"Oh... um... his friend Olinka. She said he was... really attractive now."

"Brianna. Brianna. We've been best friends for fourteen years now. I know when you're lying."

"Well she really did say that but... there... was something else."

Lauren demanded to know what it was, but the discussion was interrupted by the arrival of their food. As they tucked in, Brianna reluctantly told the story about the disastrous slide show. Lauren, of course, thought it was hilarious. "How big is he?"

"You always said size doesn't matter."

"It doesn't during fucking, but aesthetically big ones are prettier. And don't tell me you didn't look, because you totally looked."

"It's... I don't know, it's big. I didn't see the whole thing"

"Bigger than Harley's?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean it's definitely thicker, anyway."

"How thick?"

"Lauren!"

"What? You can't drop that bomb on me and not give me the deets."

Brianna moaned in dismay, but finally made a circle with the fingers of one hand, or rather a part of a circle, since her hands were small and the fingers didn't meet. "Like that. I mean, I think. That's what it looked like."

"Ohhh wooooow," Lauren sighed. "He'll make a great husband, and I'm sure both I and my kids will get used to calling him daddy in no time."

"You lay one finger on my boy and I cut you."

"Now you're just being selfish."

"Can something that big really feel good going in and out of you?"

"O. M. G. You have no idea. I mean seriously, you have no idea. Length is fine as long as it's not too big, but girth is what stretches you and hits nerves you didn't even know you owned. A dick like that could make a girl sing arias."

Brianna was quiet for a moment, digesting that information. Finally she said, "My sister and her husband think that Ethan is dominant... like dom dominant, you know"

Lauren gave a snort and proclaimed, "You keep making him sound irresistible and then you tell me I can't have him! Is this some kind of sick game?"

"Yeah, I'm cruelty incarnate. Is it possible that they're right? I mean he's so young."

"He's been a dom his whole life. Now he's just old enough to add sex to it." She paused to laugh at Brianna's expression. "Don't look so shocked, he's been calling the shots with you since he was a kid."

"Well... yeah..."

"What did your sister say?"

Brianna described, in brief, Jim's rapid identification of Ethan's personality and his subsequent life-coaching. "Everything out of Ethan's mouth now is Uncle Jim this and Uncle Jim that. He's really different now."

"How?"

"He just... he's this calm, strong man. He wants to take care of me." Lauren answered with an arched eyebrow, so Brianna quickly added, "Not like that, sicko. He cooks for me, he makes sure I'm OK, asks if he can help around the house. This morning he vacuumed without even talking to me about it, and did a good job of it too. He just... acts like a man, not a boy. And he's got this way of talking now where he says to do something and I'm doing it before I even realize it."

"This Jim guy was a good influence, then. Ethan sounds dominant as hell. And it sounds like your son acts more like a man than his dad does."

"That's not fair. They're completely different people. Not everybody is the same."

"Would your life be better if Harley was the kind of man Ethan is?"

The whole of Ethan's sex video replayed in her mind in an instant, and she blushed like a tomato. "Shut up, cunt."

That was enough of an answer for Lauren, who declared victory and moved on to another topic. They discussed Lauren's job (same as always), Brianna's job (she was going to return to it on the day after Labor Day and she hadn't told her boss about her physical changes yet because she wanted to surprise her), Brianna's trip, the condition of Lutton (complete with pictures), and more. The main course dishes were taken away, the chocolate soufflé served and shared, and the dessert dishes were taken away. In a way, it was only now, sitting with her best friend, that she finally felt home.

Lauren was just digging her credit card out of her purse when Brianna finally asked the question that had been on her mind since before she sat down: "Hey... do you make noise when you have sex?"

"If the sex is any good at all, of course. If the kids are in the house, I usually muffle them by shoving my panties in my mouth; if the kids aren't around, I shake the windows screaming during really good sex. Why?"

Shoving her panties in her mouth? What? She had long since learned not to ask certain questions of her friend; as Lauren had repeatedly told her, some things that sound weird during lunch are as erotic as hell during sex. "Oh, nothing. It's just that Luisa was making noises during... you know. I wanted to know if he was hurting her or something."

"What kind of noises? Like screaming for him to stop?"

"No, nothing like that! Just... you know, moans and groans and stuff."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Well not here, obviously!"

Lauren thought for a moment, then picked up her phone and asked, "Do you have your earbuds?"

Brianna made a face. "I'm not going to watch porn in the middle of a restaurant."

"Not porn. Just get your earbuds in. Hey Google, When Harry Met Sally, restaurant scene." By the time Brianna had her buds in, she was handing over the phone. "Here, just watch this."

Brianna plugged her buds into the jack and looked at the screen, where a pretty blonde woman with aggressive hair was sitting at a diner table across from a schlubby-looking guy who was at least fifteen years her senior. The scene played out; Brianna blushed red again and then laughed at the punchline, then handed the phone back.

"Did it sound like that?" Lauren asked.

"I mean... kind of. It was... less faked-sounding."

"That means that your son was showing that little Peruvian girl a very, very good time. If you had ever in your life even approached an orgasm, you'd know that, but then you're married to Harley."

"Shut up."

"What did your sister say about Ethan and Luisa?"

"That it started with Luisa picking Ethan because she wanted to have sex - she's pretty experienced, I guess. Within two weeks, she was following Ethan around 'like a puppy,' she said. And those two made a lot of noise at night."

"So your hot, dominant son is a sex god and you somehow expect me not to try for him?"

"He's not a sex god!"

"Well no, he's only got one notch on his bedpost. Get him a few more and then he'll be everybody's favorite."

"Anyway, leave him alone or I'll orphanize your kids."

"You know I was kidding about that, but I mean it when I say that he might be a little too much for those high school bunnies. He's taking college courses, right? Maybe he'll meet someone there."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of him dating a college girl."

"Why not? He already tamed one, what makes you think he'd have a problem with another one?"

"I just don't want him to get into trouble. It's one thing messing around with one for a few months when there are no other options, but actually hanging around with one here is just asking for trouble."

"Eh, you might be right about that, but I still doubt there are many high school girls who could handle what he's got. And now that he's gotten a taste of what it's like, you know he's going to keep getting it either with or without you knowing."

"I know he's going to be... active. We left a box of condoms on his bed with a note telling him to let us know when he needs more. Fooling around is fine, babies and diseases are not."

"You'd better have a talk with him too, to reinforce that."

"His uncle already took care of that, thank god."

"Well, at least he has one father figure in his life."

They chatted more about this and that as they headed to their cars. They gave each other a long hug goodbye, both glad that Brianna was back where she belonged, and then they headed their separate ways, Lauren to the shops and Brianna to yoga.

Sunday, August 31

This is stupid.

It was a typical shitty New Kent August morning, with the sun high in the sky as the time edged toward noon. Ethan had done his run, showered, and eaten his breakfast. After that he had worked on his game, but he was too distracted to focus, and for a very specific reason. As the morning had worn on, the distraction simply got worse; by the time his mom left for her second yoga session, his resolve was crumbling. He sent a text, gotten a positive answer, and how here he was, on Sindee Norman's doorstep, finger poised on her doorbell.

If mom finds out I'm here, she'll set me on fire with her brain. But I want to be here. I want what she can give me.

He pressed the bell.

The door opened almost immediately, revealing Sindee in red tights and a black sports bra. "I was wondering how long you were going to stand on my front step. I'm glad you decided to ring before you burned red in this sun. Come on in. Can I get you anything?"

"Ummm... no, I drank my pre-workout and everything," Ethan said as he crossed the Norman threshold for the first time. "Is Brody around?"

"Nope, he has a regular Sunday playdate with some friends, so it's just us. We can make as much noise as we want and not disturb anybody."

"Sounds good to me. Want to show me around?" He was 95% sure he was here to fuck as well as work out, but that was because of her flirtiness and reputation, not because of any direct evidence. If she was open to his advances, she'd make it known; if she didn't, he could just have a nice workout.

As it turned out, she did want to show him around. The house was on a completely different floorplan than his home and it was bigger, on a bigger lot. It was all-around a nicer place than the house he lived in, but that was fine: his house was home, and that was what made him love it. She showed him every room except Brody's (she respected his privacy). She made a point to show him her bedroom and tell him how comfortable the bed was, and how even the wildest sex wouldn't break it; this removed all the doubt in his mind that he was here to bone.

She kept the home gym for last, and it was spectacular: a rubber floor, a multi-level mount drill-fastened directly to the beams of the house for maximum stability, an adjustable weight bench, a dual-axis cable machine, a squat rack, adjustable dumbbells, and a barbell with weights. No wonder she was ripped.

They started with some stretches and then got right into it. He was in very good shape, but she was a workout fiend and lifted impressive totals for someone of her size, benching 150 pounds without undue struggle and doing 80-pound dumbbell curls. Her shoulders were massive for her frame, and once she got going, he saw that she had more sleek muscle than he'd realized at first; it wasn't his preferred body type for women by any means, but Sindee pulled it off as well as anyone could.

Of course, she wasn't simply lifting - she was also advertising. She adopted a suspicious number of stances that pushed her ass out, or her breasts out, or saw her on her back with her legs spread wide. It was distracting to him from the start, and the distraction mounted through the session as she became more and more blatant about what she wanted. Barely twenty minutes in he was ready to tell her to get out of those clothes and onto all fours, but he was enjoying the workout too much to cut it short.

Besides, Uncle Jim had advised him that the first few encounters with a woman set the tone for everything that came after. Falling for her posturing too quickly would show her that he was only here for the sex, that he wasn't serious about his health, and that she could probably manipulate him easily with the promise of getting nasty. The longer he lasted and the more effort she had to put out to entice him, the more control he'd have; Sindee was not relationship material and they both obviously wanted nothing more than casual sex, but he still wanted to be in charge of how it went.

That was an important thing. He'd learned the ins and outs of power balance with Luisa, and learned that he could only be happy if he was in control; it was just how he was wired. Sindee was much more experienced and much more confident, and she'd need to see the tone he wanted to set right from the start; otherwise he might end up wrapped around her finger, and he knew instinctively that was a bad place to be with a woman like her.

And so he let her little game continue, even when she took her bra off to lie down on the bench to do some incline bicep curls. He looked, of course - he was 18 and there were bare tits on display only a few feet away. Now that he could see them, he thought they looked a little odd: she didn't have an ounce of fat on her, so she'd gotten B-cup implants of the sort that bulged at the top to give impressive cleavage, but looked like inflated pectorals when the clothes were off. Still, boobs!

She watched him watch her with a little smirk on her face, but as he moved from barbell lunges to back squats (of course he was working his legs, he was a runner) and made no move for her, her smirk seemed a little less certain. He kept his eyes on her as she transitioned to dumbbell pullovers, which really pushed her tits out, but he kept on working the squats - this was his favorite exercise, since it worked so many muscle groups and he imagined he could feel himself getting stronger as he did his reps.

She stood, turned her back to him, and slowly peeled down her tights, bending over at the waist to give him a good view of her strong ass. She was wearing a tiny thong so that she wasn't technically nude. She got down on her knees at the end of the bench, leaned over onto her chest so that her ass was pointed straight at him, and began repeatedly lifting her legs out straight, holding them there for a minute or so, and then lowering her knees again. It was quite an exhibition.

Ethan just kept lifting, although he was entirely aware that his erection was straining his shorts now.

When she was finished with her set, she sat up on the bench and watched him work, her eyes sparkling, her nipples hard, occasionally nibbling her lower lip. When he finished his squats and moved over to the resistance bands, she finally said, "You really think you're hot shit, don't you?"

He smirked. "So do you."

"Most guys would have jumped me by now."

"Oh, I'm sure. That's exactly what you want."

"Yeah, sweating makes me horny, and you're hot. What's wrong with wanting those two things to meet?"

"Not a thing. Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes! Fuck, I was pretty sure I've been making that clear since you saw me the other morning. What do you want?"

"I want you on your knees with my cock hitting the back of your throat. Right. Now." He looked into directly and unflinchingly into her eyes and saw the twinge of irritation there at him usurping control, but also lust - and the lust was winning.

"Fucking prick," she muttered, sliding onto her knees and crawling the five feet to him. She reached up for his shorts, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her wrist. She frowned and asked, "What?"

"You didn't ask permission to take my shorts down."

She didn't laugh, but amusement entered her eyes as she understood the game he was playing. "Please may I suck your cock, Sir?"

"Good girl."

*

Later, as they disentangled in her sweat-soaked sheets, she lay on her back and looked up as the ceiling. "Holy shit. That was damned good for a kid your age."

He chuckled; it had been work to learn her body and her preferences, but by the end he'd made her come twice in rapid succession. "Probably not as good as some guys you've had?"

"There's always somebody better in bed than you are." She reached for her nightstand, then pulled back her hand and sighed, "After sex is the only time I regret giving up smoking."

"You're the second woman I've been with."

"What? You're kidding. Were you born that good?"

"No, I spent all summer with a college girl. She taught me a lot."

"Lucky her. And lucky for me, she was a good teacher. Did she teach you to be all dommy?"

"No, I taught her to be all subby."

She laughed. "Son of a bitch, I even believe you. I've had plenty of guys your age, and as a rule there are two kinds: the ones with wide eyes and rapid heartbeats who can't believe they're finally getting their cherries popped, and the ones who walk in acting like they're King Shit Alpha Fuckstars. It's funny, but the second kind are always more scared than the first - scared their mask is going to slip and show the confused, intimidated little boy underneath. Their mask always does slip, sooner or later."

"And me?" he asked, rolling over onto his side to look at her.

"I kept waiting this whole time for your mask to slip, and then I realized you weren't wearing one. You're actually what you act like you are, or at least you're a version of that. You know enough to bring out my real submissive side, not the roleplay one almost everyone else sees, and you gave me a couple of solid orgasms. You don't have the experience or the expertise yet to be the real Boss Daddy that you want to be, but you'll get there. "

"I want you to help me get that experience and expertise."

"Oh yeah?" she smirked. "And what's in it for me?"

He slid a hand over her stomach and between her legs. "More of me inside you. A lot more."

She looked down and grinned. "Christ, you're hard again already? I fucking love eighteen-year-olds."

Monday, September 1 (Labor Day)

"So. This is it."

"Yeah, this is it," Vincent nodded solemnly.

"It's been a long time coming," Olinka said. "I hope you're proud of yourself, Ethan."

"No shit, bruh," Vincent put in.

"It seems like I've been working on this thing since before I could walk," Ethan said. "And here it is, done. I can finally forget about it and do something else."

"Yeah right," Olinka chuckled. "You may be done with Flying Monkey Express, but it's not done with you. Fans are going to want more."

"Fans," Ethan snorted derisively. "That'll be the day."

"Dude, I'm fuckin' telling you," Vincent said.

"Whatever. I'm pushing the button now." Ethan clicked his mouse and the file began uploading to the Google Store. A couple miles away, Vincent did the same with the Apple Store upload, and Olinka sent it live on Steam. It was finished.

"I think this calls for a drink," Olinka said. "Everyone ready?"

They were, and as one the three friends popped the tops on their energy drinks, held them up to their respective webcams in a remote toast, and drank. When that was done, Ethan said, "And so launches the first, and last, release of Monkeymakers Studio."

"Such a lame-ass name," Vincent said, shaking his head.

"I like it," Olinka replied. "He made monkeys. It's memorable so people won't forget the studio that made their favorite game."

"Aaaand I've just sent off the notification to the playtesters," Vincent said. "And here goes the message to our friends and families."

"I just hope we get to a hundred-fifty sales," Ethan said.

"I could upload a picture of my butt to the Google Store and get a hundred-fifty," Vincent scoffed. "Those are just the people we know. Even if only a few people here and there buy it, it's going to hit a couple thousand."

Two thousand sales would mean a little over $6,000 dollars for Ethan after store fees and the percentages of his two collaborators, and damn but that money would come in handy for him and for the family. Of course it was all fantasy - the game wouldn't sell anything like that number of copies. Still, it was pleasant to indulge in the fantasy.

"What about new levels, Ethan?" Olinka asked. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Over the years he'd sketched out and done preliminary development on over twenty levels that weren't used in the game for one reason or another, mostly because they weren't good enough or were too much like other levels he liked better. If through some freak of circumstance the sales warranted it, he could push those levels out as an expansion pack pretty quickly because the three of them had developed into a smoothly-functioning machine. They talked about that for a bit, as well as the baboon, the playable character Ethan had cut early on because he hadn't been a good enough coder then to make it work how he'd imagined.

"I bet you could code it now," Vincent told him.

"Yeah I know I could," Ethan replied. "In fact, I know exactly how I'd do it. I could code it in a flash and have Olinka do the finished art in no time, but it won't be worth the effort. You'll see."

"God you're such a fucking buzzkill," Olinka grumped. "Send me over what you have and give me an idea how it moves so I can work things up."

"What's the point?"

"The point is, maybe this game catches on," she explained patiently. "If it does, we can get that out as an expansion quicker than we can the levels."

"Fine," Ethan grumped, opening his file system and navigating toward the information in question. "But you're just wasting your time."

*

Later that afternoon, Ethan was sitting in the living room playing his antiquated Playstation. Between developing his own game and the fact that he didn't touch a controller all summer, he was almost painfully rusty, with slow reflexes and poor anticipation. He'd just died - again - but he was still soaring on the feeling of triumph from finally being done with the huge task he'd accidentally set himself years before. For the first time in a long time, he was able to just relax and enjoy what life had to offer.

Plus, he'd just gotten back from seeing Sindee, who'd taught him a few new tricks. After what she'd put him through - and the way she'd made him come - he should have been feeling sated. At his age, however, satiety lasted for less time than it took to say the word, and he was horny again.

Damn I wish Luisa was here.

The thought had barely left his mind when he heard the garage door rumble open. His dad was off at a baseball game with his friends - he was a huge fan of New Kent's major league team, the Maestros - and since he had taken the bus, that meant that this could only be his mom coming home from yoga. A few minutes later he heard the door to the house open and he called, "Hi mom."

"Hi sweetheart!" came her voice back. "Want to see the clothes I just bought?"

He didn't really, but he loved that she was now enthusiastic about dressing and about feeling and looking her best, and he wanted to encourage that. "Sure."

She bounced excitedly into the living room as he paused his game. She bore a paper bag, which she set down on the chair across from him, and as she did, he looked at her. This was the first time he'd seen her dressed for yoga, with tight clothes - skintight clothes, in fact, in medium gray. The top clung to her torso and revealed a two-inch band of hard tummy, but it was the pants that grabbed his attention and held it: they covered everything that needed to be covered but concealed nothing, and from behind he had the ideal angle on her shapely legs and one of the most perfect asses he had ever seen in his life. Instantly his game was forgotten as he watched her move.

"OK," she said, pulling out two items of Barbie pink clothing. "I really didn't need this stuff but I'm having an amazing time at yoga - it's even more fun than I'd hoped it would be. One of the instructors there, Lydia, told me about this place that sells used fitness clothing and gear, and I thought I'd go check it out. I didn't plan on buying anything, but there was so much great stuff there and I thought, well, I'll use it all. So here, what do you think?"

It was impossible to tell much from a pair of yoga pants hanging from her hands, but he made the right noises and she looked pleased as she pulled out the next one, a deep navy set. There followed a third, vivid green chartreuse, before he finally said, "You know, I can't really tell how these look this way. You'd have to actually try them on for that."

"Oh!" she said brightly, grabbing up her bag and the outfits she'd already taken out of it. "I'll be right back." A few minutes later Brianna returned in the pink outfit, plainly happy that her son wanted her to show off her purchases. She stood facing him and spread her arms. "Well?"

She was gorgeous. As good as she'd looked at the airport, this was so much better. As he watched her, a thought crossed hiss mind that he neither sought nor welcomed: God damn, that tight little body she's got is sweet. I bet she'd look amazing getting fucked -

Instantly he realized where his mind had gone and he pulled back, managing to give her a smile and a, "It looks great on you. I love how it works with your hair - go out like that and everyone will be looking at you."

"I don't know about that!" she blushed. "I mean... it does stand out..."

"It doesn't catch the eye, it grabs it whether people want it or not."

"I... I don't think I look good enough to be eye-catching."

"Oh, you have no idea. Turn around, let me see the back."

Still smiling, she did as he told her to do, and in a flash his dick went from hard to pulsating. Her ass was the Platonic ideal of asses, neither too big nor too small, muscular but natural-looking. Like his mother, he wasn't a fan of Goodyear blimp-sized butts, and hers checked every one of his boxes. And not only that, but the way the yoga pants adhered to each cheek and the crack in between -

Grabbing those hips doggy and sinking into her, watching her globes bounce as he went balls-deep...

Damn it, stop perving on your mom, it's sick.

"It's just as good from behind," he said after the few seconds it had taken to get control of himself. "The color and your hair really go together, and you've got the goods now to pull this look off. Just be prepared for guys to follow you like baby ducks."

Brianna almost told Ethan that it was improper for him to be complimenting her body quite so frankly, but she was smiling too much to bother. She had never in her whole life gotten a compliment like that from a man - in fact, she could probably count the sum total of compliments she'd ever gotten on her looks since she'd gotten pregnant without without running out of fingers. It made her feel good - no, it made her feel sexy, really sexy for maybe the first time ever. How could she not have felt that way, getting such praise from a high school kid as hot as Ethan? She suddenly realized that she had been standing still and smiling at him for a weird amount of time, and her blush was adorable as she scooted off to try on the next outfit.

He watched her go, or more accurately watched her ass move in those clingy pants, and then he closed his eyes and sighed when she vanished into her bedroom. This was weird and getting weirder, but there was no harm in it. There was nothing wrong with encouraging his mom to take pride in her appearance, and if her butt was so hot you could fry a steak on it, well... that's was just aesthetic appreciation, that's all. He didn't mean anything. He just needed to keep his horny little imagination in check and not make it creepy.

As Brianna removed the pink outfit and began to pull on the navy one, her mind was in just as much turmoil. She was loving modeling these outfits for her son. The novelty of having a man around who was willing to do that for her was a thrill in itself, and something she had never experienced. More than that, though, it was the fact that it was Ethan, the person she loved most in the world, who was doing the looking. She had bought these clothes primarily because yoga had instantly become a passion for her and she wanted to indulge in it, but also because so many of the women in the classes looked so good wearing these outfits. She knew that she, a card-carrying member of the IBTC, couldn't fill out yoga tops as well as they did (there was one woman there whose boobs were each bigger than Brianna's head, and even an industrial-strength sports bra had difficulty keeping those bad girls in line), but the bottoms were a different question.

She had spent half an hour last night looking at herself in the mirror, both in clothes and naked, and replaying in her head the compliments she'd been getting from people since she worked her weight off. Even though her boobs were almost absent, everyone seemed to love her body from there on down. On the last day of her trip, which she'd spent in Kansas City, and on the airplane, she had thought she'd noticed people giving her admiring looks, but she hadn't been willing to believe it then; mentally, she was still in shy fat girl mode.

But the way Ethan had looked at her that first time at the airport was just the start, and since then she had noticed glances. Yesterday and today, when out in yoga pants, she had noticed stares - even some from women, which felt odd (though not unpleasant). As she'd been buying the clothes today, it had occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, she might wear some of these out on minor trips where she didn't expect to be out of the car much, like getting gas or even going somewhere to pick up takeout. That would be fun and kind of thrilling, even if almost nobody ever saw her in them. It would be a gift to herself, a reward for working herself skinny.

But this, now... the way Ethan had ordered her to turn around so he could see her from behind had been thrilling in a way she didn't comprehend. Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he locked eyes with her when he said it, but it had left her with that strange, fluttery sense of need in her lower abdomen that she liked but didn't understand - it just felt good. It was something she had never felt before but was experiencing more and more around her son. It must, she decided, just be pride in the fact that he was prouder of her than anyone had ever been before; yes, that must be it - what else could it be?

She checked herself in the mirror when she had the dark blue outfit snug, made a last adjustment to the crotch to eliminate a naughty cameltoe, and headed out. "What do you think of this one?" she asked as she trotted into the living room. "Is it as good as the pink one?"

Ethan paused his game again and looked her up and down, a smile on his face. "It's gorgeous. You're gorgeous."

Her cheeks instantly heated up. He had looked her in the eye when he said that, and suddenly there was too much of something for her to maintain the gaze, so she looked down at the floor; her smile, though, was almost giddy. "Thank you."

"Turn it around, girl. Let me see you from behind."

Girl. That was the second time he'd called her that, and there was a rumble in his voice as he had done so that made her heart feel fluttery. She was glad to turn around, because suddenly her nipples were making ruby points inside her top and she felt a little dizzy - now why why should that be? "Well?" she asked after a few moments.

"I love the back of this top."

"Oh, it's nice, isn't it? It's kind of daring though, those laces instead of just solid fabric. It shows a lot of skin."

"It doesn't show that much. What it does show is that you've got a great back, and it's going to get better as you do more yoga."

I have a great back? Never in her whole life had she thought she'd ever be complimented on her back, and she couldn't stop blushing. "Well thank you. I'm going to go try the next one."

The chartreuse one was next, and then a light yellow set, and then a set of red yoga pants with black chevrons and a black top with red chevrons, and then a mustard-color one that made both her hair and her clothes really pop, and Ethan told her how good she looked each one. It was as much praise in twenty minutes as she'd gotten in the last eighteen years put together.

It was while she had her back to him in the mustard outfit that she turned her head to ask him a question and saw that he was staring straight at her butt. There could be no doubt of where his eyes were directed, and the look on his face was... rapt. But not only that, there was something else in his expression too; she didn't know what it was, but that strange hungry feeling in her guts came back in a flash when she saw it.

"Looks great again," he finally said. "All these look fantastic. You've got great taste."

"Thank you. I... um... I picked up a couple others, but really they're just more of the same, so..."

"Model them for me."

"I've taken up too much of your last day of vacation with this as it is."

"Mom," he said softly, looking her directly in the eyes. "Model them for me."

The tone of his voice and the quality of his gaze made her shiver in a way she found very pleasant. She could barely make herself heard when she said, "OK."

There was a medium gray set and a burgundy set, and, if Ethan were to be believed, both looked very good on her. As she finished showing off the last outfit, she said, "I don't know why I bought all of these. I'm just going to be wearing them for yoga, and once my cheap sessions are finished I'll just be doing yoga around here. It seems like a frivolous expense we can't afford."

He leaned back in the sofa and asked, "Are they comfortable?"

"Oh absolutely, I love how they feel, they're great to move in."

"Then wear them around the house."

"Oh, I don't know. I doubt your father would like me wearing things like this all the time."

Ethan leaned forward and said, "I want you to wear them around the house."

"I... oh." She paused for a moment, the dizziness hitting her again and her pulse pounding. "Well... I guess if you want me to, I can. I mean, just around the house."

"Good," he nodded, leaning back and smiling. "I've got the hamburger out thawing. If dad's not back in time to do the grilling, I can do it."

"Yeah, OK," she nodded, still unsteady on her feet. "Did Uncle Jim teach you to be a grill expert too?"

"I mostly just watched. I picked up some tips though. In my last couple weeks there, I did do the grilling a couple of times and it turned out well."

"Honestly, I doubt your dad would mind if you do it. It was never his favorite activity. If you enjoy it, I'm sure he'll be happy to cede grilling duties to you."

"Good. I like cooking for you."

"Right, well... you know what, I need to go wash all these outfits. Remember, you should always wash clothes before you wear them for the first time, God knows what's on 'em."

"OK. Love you mom."

"Love you too."

*

As it turned out, Harley didn't make it back for dinner at all. In a series of texts he explained that, when they found out he was losing his job, his friends plied him with beer and stadium food, and then afterward took him out for more beer and a big steak, all on their dime. Brianna was glad for him: after getting kicked by life once again, it was good for her husband to know that he had people who cared about him.

Ethan made the hamburgers to a recipe that his Aunt Tina had showed him, which included things that Brianna had never put in the burgers she'd made for the family: red pepper flakes, diced onion, barbecue sauce, and shredded mozzarella right into the raw meat, in addition to lading them with cheddar once they were on the grill. She made potato salad and baked beans, as well as preparing thick slices of pickle, tomato, onion, and crisp Romaine lettuce to top the patties. They ate on their patio, shaded from the early evening sun by the big silver maple tree that took up the western third of their small back yard. The meal was delicious.

As they ate and talked, she felt something strange between her and her son, a kind of tension that she didn't understand. She couldn't figure it out, but she knew it was there, making things awkward. It was so strange, because since she'd gotten back they'd been having such a fun time together. Maybe, she thought, it was because she had insisted on trying on clothes for him; sure that was something that a woman should do in for her husband rather than her son, but Harley hadn't been here either time she'd come home with new clothes and he wouldn't have sat through it even if he had been. And Ethan had seemed... well, accepting at first, but both times he'd gained enthusiasm as it had gone along - and he'd actually seemed to like everything she'd bought.

Of course, she had caught him looking at her backside this last time, and he'd had that odd expression when he did. Appreciation, maybe? That must be it. And she'd really liked seeing that appreciation on the face of a man she'd cared about. She'd liked how it made her feel, in the same way that she'd liked it when he told her he wanted her to wear yoga clothes all the time. Maybe he thought he'd done something wrong in saying that, but she didn't think he had; he just thought she looked good and wanted her to enjoy her new body, that was all.

What else could it be?

Well, whatever it was, she should probably knock off the fashion shows for a while if they were going to cause problems. She was still going to be buying more clothes for months to fill out her wardrobe unless money got too tight, but now she had enough confidence to choose things on her own and trust that they'd at least look OK. She wanted her young man to be comfortable, after all.

*

Harley came home late and drunk - too drunk, apparently, to even notice that his wife was wearing a yoga outfit more revealing than she had ever before worn in front of him. He mumbled something about having had a fun day, gave her a beery kiss on the cheek, and them staggered back to take a shower and go to bed.

Ethan heard his heavy footfalls as he passed; his father did not knock on his door to wish him good night, but then there was nothing unusual about that. His dad didn't care about him much these days. Tonight especially, Ethan was fine with that. Ethan had a lot on his mind.

Lying naked on his bed with his phone, Ethan was staring at a video of himself and Luisa without really seeing it. Onscreen, Luisa was riding him ferociously, her breasts flying to and fro with every movement she made; in his mind, Luisa was slowly being edged out by images of his mom on top of him, driving herself down onto his cock.

"God damn it," he muttered, stopping the video and slamming his phone down on the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with me? I can't think like this, it's sick!"

The problem was, he couldn't stop. Ever since the airport, he'd had odd thoughts and feelings knocking around his head; he'd been aware of them and vaguely aware that they concerned his mom, but they'd been background static. There was nothing coherent and nothing intrusive, so he simply chalked it up to the realization that his mom was now hot. So much had changed since she'd left at Christmas that it was just another new thing in his world. He hadn't had real erotic thoughts about her since he'd recognized her, but now he couldn't stop. Until today.

That ass, though.

He'd needed to jerk off since before his mom got home. Her little modeling show had been revelatory, and the confusion it stirred him him had kept him quiet at dinner. Once he got back to his room and went to take care of his need, the memories of it became irresistible. He'd started off thinking about how he'd taken Sindee doggy style on the weight bench that day, but somehow that had changed to imaginings of his mom's perfect butt shining and red from him spanking it as he railed her; he tried to think of other women he'd had the hots for: Jesse's mom, that sweet cheerleader Becky, that mean cheerleader Jeanne, his 10th grade social studies teacher Miss Mwangata, his 11th grade English teacher Mrs. Clyde, favorite porn stars like Krissy Lynn, Dillion Harper, Kira Noir... and before he could come to any of them, they had each morphed into his own mother.

Of course he'd tried to stop, tried to think of someone else, but nothing worked. He even tried to forget the whole thing and sleep, but his balls were aching with the need for release. He needed to think of something else.

He needed to come up with some way to get this sick shit out of his mind, he needed to get his head right so he could get some sleep for school tomorrow, but in true Don't think of an elephant fashion, those vile images were running through his brain now even when he wasn't trying to jerk off. He was a complete pervert and he sickened himself. He was also stuck, and he knew himself well enough to know that he wasn't going to get his brain out of this particular sewer without finishing his masturbation session. With a defeated sigh, he wrapped his hand around his cock and gave in to the forbidden. His mind formed the image of his mom sitting up on the kitchen counter, legs spread wide, a gaping hole in her pink yoga pants where he had ripped them open to expose her glistening pussy. In this phantasm she said nothing, but her eyes pleaded for him to put his cock into her bareback and fill her with his cum. He rubbed his cock up and down her slit once, twice, thrice as she mewled for him -

And then he slid in. His cock sank into slick velvety heat as her eyes rolled back into her head and she gave the sexiest moan he had ever heard -

And just like that, he was coming everywhere, strings of pearly seed exploding and landing on his stomach, his chest, his thighs, his hand, his balls, his sheets, on and on, the intensity of it almost blinding. When it was done, he lay there, feeling the wetness of his own jizz on his skin, cooling in the air conditioning as his head spun. It took an act of will to make him move enough to turn on the lamp and grab for Kleenexes before this stuff ran everywhere.

Now, of course, in this time of clarity, he could think about things logically, it was obvious where his thoughts had gotten off-track. He loved his mother more than anyone else in the world, but he hadn't really permitted himself to deal with the implications of her suddenly becoming a very hot woman. It had been a turbulent summer for him, and all the erotic drive he had developed had just gotten temporarily focused on the wrong thing, that's all. Now that he'd gotten it out of his system it would be fine; he was sure that everything was fine.

It was fine.

He was, after all, only eighteen years old.

Tuesday, September 2

"I can't believe this thing is still holding together."

Vincent gave Ethan a severe look and said, "Don't talk about Jane like that. Jane is a sweetheart."

The Jane in question was Vincent's car, a Chrysler PT Cruiser exactly two years younger than the boys. Vincent's dad's friend's brother had needed to get rid of it two years ago, and because it had effectively no trade-in value, he had sold it to Vincent's dad for $300; Vincent's dad had given it to Vincent. The car had once been a deep purple, but the sun had faded it to a muddled kind of mauve; the driver's door was a washed-out red, having originally come from some other PT Cruiser presumably not named Jane. Everything was shot on the vehicle, from the engine to the tires to the transmission to the brakes, and it only moved at all due to whatever angels watched over those foolish enough to drive it. It squeaked, it mewled, it roared, it shook violently at any speed over 27 MPH, and the floor of the rear passenger-side seat was an unexplained hole that was covered only by carpet. Vincent's parents only let him drive it because the bus ride from their apartment to the school took fifty minutes, and Ethan only rode in it because his bus ride to school was an hour and twenty minutes if he actually made the two connections necessary to get there.

"Jane is a coffin with four bald tires."

"You're going to hurt her feelings and then she'll stop running."

"If she stops running it will be because she realized that she died ten years ago."

"If she's so bad, why do you ride in her every day?"

"Eh, I'm going to die someday. Why prolong it?"

"Keep talking like that and I won't pick you up anymore."

"Sure you will, you can't stand being alone."

"How cruelly accurate. You doing Spanish Club this year?"

"Yeah, why not? You doing Mandarin Club?"

"Yeah, why not?" Given that his parents usually still spoke Spanish at home and he had native fluency in the language, Vincent had elected to get his language credits in something else; Chinese seemed to be a wise choice for someone going into a computer-related field. "You're just doing Spanish Club because you have a crush on Ginny Wadlow."

"Not since 10th grade, bruh. I do it for the college application."

"Hey, when FME blows up, you'll be able to afford the class trip to Spain this year."

"Keep dreaming."

"Always and forever." They turned onto the drive to the parking lot of Schuyler Colfax High School. "Hey, is that Teondre Oneal?"

"Yeah, the mohawk is new. It's a good look."

They parked, climbed out without breaking the car, and headed for the school building, each calling out to people they liked. "Bruh, you are getting so many looks," Vincent laughed. "Collette Evens almost broke her neck with that double-take."

"How do you know she wasn't looking at you?"

"Because I'm a spherical bastard and the only thing new about me from last year is my kicks, and nobody's gonna give themselves whiplash looking at my K-Swisses."

"They're nice shoes."

"They're cheap white sneakers. You're gonna get a lot more attention this year, so you'd better get used to it."

For most people, the majority of the first day back at school is spent reconnecting with casual friends they haven't seen all summer; Vincent certainly had plenty of those, but Ethan's friendship circle was small and tight. Their gathering place was Rachel Lowenstein's locker, given its central location, and the other members of the group were already there when Ethan and Vincent arrived. There was Olivia, looking cute in a mid-length tartan skirt and a breezy blue blouse; Jesse, short and compact, whose hot mom and hunky dad each gave him features that didn't mix well together, leaving his face odd and unattractive; Cassie O'Dell, the tall, pretty, stunningly clumsy black girl who could barely walk down the hall without hurting herself but who was also the best coder in school; and of course Rachel, whose acerbic wit and unwillingness to take anybody's bullshit (especially teasing about her weight) made her a prickly but very amusing companion.

Since his return, Ethan had seen all of them save Cassie, who had been out of town until Saturday evening; therefore, it was Cassie whose eyes widened with shock. "What the fuck - they said you'd changed over the summer, but I didn't think you changed into this!"

Ethan chuckled. "Yes, I metamorphosed into a computer geek. I know, nobody saw it coming. How was your summer?"

"Not as good as yours, apparently," Cassie chuckled. "It was fine. I did a lot of volunteer work. Oh, and I downloaded your game last night!" The sentiment was echoed by the other two who hadn't worked on it.

"Well?" Olinka asked.

"Fuck, you guys are gonna be millionaires," Jesse said. "It's one of the best games I've ever played."

"I was up until two last night with it, I couldn't put it down," Rachel nodded.

"Seriously!" Cassie enthused. "This thing is gonna be huge! I can tell everyone I knew you three before you got rich and famous."

"Don't let Ethan start telling you why that won't happen," Vincent said dryly. "You'll miss your first two classes and be bored out of your minds the whole time."

Olinka snorted an undignified laugh.

They had about eight minutes before they had to run off to their homerooms, and they spent it chatting first about the game and then about everything else. Ethan was positioned such that he could see people approaching from one end of the hall, and he couldn't help but notice the looks of oncoming people who started out curious about the new guy and then looked shocked when they suddenly recognized him; more than one of those people was a cute girl, so that felt good.

He got looks in homeroom too - his teacher, Mrs. Pehars, gave him a baffled look before she recognized him, and a couple of cute girls who never noticed him before suddenly seemed interested. Better than that, though, was the fact that two burly assholes who'd bullied him since 7th Grade looked at him appraisingly, and he returned their look levelly and, after a moment, a nod of acknowledgment. He'd had several talks with Uncle Jim over the summer about bullies and how to defend against them, and while his uncle had given him a couple of cursory lessons on how to maintain balance and punch without breaking his hand, he had no doubt that these two bullies could still beat the crap out of him if they had a mind to. However, Uncle Jim had also told him that the best way to get a bully to leave you alone was to show you were more trouble than you were worth - that way the bully might pass you by and pick on someone smaller and less resistant to them. He hoped his calm, unconcerned look and nod had conveyed that message, but he supposed he'd find out soon enough.

Ah, the rhythms of high school life.

*

At 8:53 that morning, Brianna pulled up to the Lewiston Branch Library where she'd worked the past ten years, ever since she'd graduated college. The library opened at 10:00, but her shift was 9:00 - 5:30; the hour before opening was for reshelving, staff meetings, updates on policy, and, less officially, hobnobbing with coworkers. Today, she expected that the latter part would take an unusual amount of time.

She flashed her ID card to the locked employee entrance and stepped inside, tucking her lunch into the fridge in the breakroom before heading out to the main room. There, at a table by the checkout desk, sat her boss Maryjo Gulbenkian and her two regular coworkers, Ray Mindener and Charity Johnsen. It was Ray who spotted Brianna first, from the corner of his eye, and turned a startled look her way. "Who - can I help you?"

"Sure, by telling me what's new since December," Brianna replied with a saucy grin, giving her red bohemian skirt a little swirl for emphasis. The expected brouhaha resulted immediately, with the three of them surrounding her, expressing surprise, demanding explanations, etc., etc. It turned out that Maryjo (her closest friend at the library) had baked gooey caramel rolls to welcome her back, and all four fell upon them ravenously as Brianna explained her radical transformation. Maryjo, being in her late 40s and conservative by nature, kept looking at Brianna and saying it was going to take a while to get used to it, but Charity and Ray were both young hipsters and they adored Brianna's new look.

As expected, nothing had changed very much during Brianna's absence. There were a couple of minor policy changes handed down from central to read and sign off on, and the children's section had been expanded by removing a small private reading room, but before it was time to open, Brianna felt as though she'd never left. One of the duties Brianna had regularly taken was to read for the Children's Storytime at 11:00, 2:30, and 4:00; Charity had covered for her during her absence but was eager to cede the job back to Brianna, since Charity didn't love kids the way Brianna did.

The Lewiston neighborhood had been very poor for a long time, including when Brianna had started there, but for the past six years it had been gentrifying rapidly. The reason that Ray and Charity worked in that branch specifically was because they both lived within walking distance, just two of many hipsters who now lived here. Many of those hipsters brought their children in ironically to have people read stories to them, because wasn't it just so ironic; however, many of the regular patrons were older folks who had been in Lewiston for decades, or who had recently been forced out by rising property prices but who still thought of the library as a second home.

It was one of those regulars, an 84-year-old woman who was gleefully profane in the way of some old people, who laughed delightedly when she recognized Brianna. "Good for you!" the woman told her. "If I had it to do all over again I'd dye my hair neon green, wear tiny skirts with no underwear, and screw everybody who felt like screwing me."

"I don't think my husband would like that," Brianna said with a smile.

"Fuck him," the woman said with a dismissive wave. "You can always get another husband, but you're only young once. Believe me, when you get to be my age, you regret what you didn't do a lot more than what you did."

For some reason, that sentiment rattled around Brianna's head for the rest of the day.

It had been eight months since Brianna had cracked a book to read to an assembled group of children sitting cross-legged in a semi-circle on the floor, which meant that all the faces in the 11:00 group were new to her. Still, they sat in rapt attention as she read Where the Sidewalk Ends, doing voices and even a little acting for the different poems; the book had been a favorite of both herself and her sister Tina, and even though it was old, it still captured children's thoughts. When she was done, a solemn, big-eyed five-year-old boy called Harry came up to her and shyly told her that her hair was "real pretty;" the compliment had her flying for hours.

The day proceeded as a day at the library usually did: helping people find things, checking things out for people who had problems with the checkout machines, stopping people from viewing porn on the computers, all of that.

As she was eating her lunch alone in the breakroom, she pulled out her phone and texted her husband:

Hey how's you're day?

stressful

word leaked from somewhere and even tho they havent told us officially everybody knows

all ppl are talking about is getting job aps out

I'm sorry. Still no comment from higher-ups?

no, just radio silence. but we can all feel it in the air, its time to bug out

I'm so sorry. You're high enough up, can you ask for clarification?

they'd just tell me to mind my own business, and if they didn't do that they'd lie

they want the machine to work perfectly until the instant they yank the plug

but they aren't issuing any denials, that says a lot

Harley had been through this often enough to have developed a sixth sense about it, and he seemed certain. Well, time to start pinching every penny. If only she hadn't bought all those damned clothes.

You know I'm thinking about you and pulling for you

Can I make you something special for dinner?

i don't think i'll be very hungry, so nothing fancy

OK. Love you, hon

love you too

She put down her phone, then picked it up and texted Ethan.

Hi sweetie. How's school?

A moment later came the reply:

gr8, hows work?

I'm loving every second of it. It's a great day.

Talking to any girls?

a few, yeah. some are talking to me out of the blue

like a few whove always been bitches to me

all of a sudden i get taller and they all 'hey how u doin?'

Just don't let them talk you into anything you don't want to do

2 hell with them

they werent nice 2 me when i was short and goofy looking, i don't want anything from them now

well you are more conventionally attractive now, and a lot more confident.

girls are just humans, they like that.

i get that

but these girls got off on making me miserable b4

and now they want 2 flirt?

do not want

I'm so proud of you, sweetie. You've got such a good head on your shoulders.

im proud of u 2

u have held this family together the whole time

im proud 2 b ur son

It was through tears in her eyes that Brianna managed to reply over a minute later:

Thank you, sweetie

I love you so much

i luv u back

Just for that you earned yourself a special dinner. What do you want?

taco salad

Oh I love taco salad

i know. thats y im making it 4 u

More tears, then:

You're amazing. I don't know what I did to deserve a son as good as you.

figure it out and have a report on my desk tomorrow morning

Smartass!

lots of parts of me are smart

g2g

luv u

I love you too!

As she put her phone back into her pocket, she couldn't help but think that, in the past five days, Ethan had cooked more meals and volunteered to do more housework than Harley had in the entire time they'd been married. Maybe some of her son would rub off on her husband.

*

When Brianna got home, Ethan was just starting to fry the meat for the taco salad. The veggies were chopped, the cheese shredded, the tortilla chips ready to be plated; now that his mom was back, the only thing they were waiting for was Harley. "Hey mom," he said cheerfully as she came around the corner. "Did your day keep being good?"

"It was wonderful," she sighed happily, dropping her purse on the back of the sofa and crossing the hall into the kitchen. "Did they give you homework today?"

"They give homework every day. I think vacations are traumatic for them because they can't give us four hours of homework every day. Get over here so I can hug you."

Even when Harley was home when she got back from work, he never hugged her. Ethan didn't used to either, or at least not often, but since she'd returned from Kansas, he hugged her all the time. It was nice; he gave great hugs. She wrapped her arms around him and he corralled her in a firm embrace, kissing the top of her head. Why couldn't her husband do this?

"It smells good," she finally said, breaking away in time to catch Licorice, who had leaped at her from the kitchen counter. "It's different, though - did you use the seasoning packets from ALDI?"

"No, I mixed up the seasonings myself. Aunt Tina showed me how, I really like her recipe."

She could only shake her head and smile. "Maybe I ought to go stay with my sister for a few months. It sounds like I'd come back a better cook. And I could work 'your Uncle Jim says' into every conversation."

Ethan laughed, though he was pretty sure that if she did spend time on their farm, she would probably come back with a very different view of her marriage. "I love your cooking. I wouldn't change a thing. I just wanted to try something different this time."

"Good answer. You're pretty slick, kiddo. I'm going to go change and then I'll be out to help."

Despite his best efforts at behaving himself, Ethan turned his head to watch her ass sway under her skirt as she walked away. Damn him, but he had to control his thoughts better; he gave up on that idea when she strolled back into the kitchen wearing her burgundy yoga togs.

The two laughed and joked in the kitchen until Harley got back, looking subdued and sad; she took him into the bedroom for a private talk, leaving Ethan to finish things up. Dinner was downbeat, as Harley's understandable gloom lowered the mood. They did talk, though, and Brianna was surprised to learn that Ethan hadn't even started his homework yet, which was very much contrary to his established pattern; Ethan simply said he wanted to relax a little after school - after all, he couldn't admit that he'd gone straight to Sindee's house when he got home and piledriven her pussy until she came twice, could he?

After dinner he retreated to his bedroom to do the delayed homework, while Brianna made her trip to the studio. The way Ethan had looked at her after she changed out of her work clothes had been very gratifying. It made her tingle in that pleasant way.

Wednesday, September 3 - Friday, September 5

The pattern for the new school year was established: Ethan ran in the early morning, cleaned up, went to school, got a ride back with Vincent, went to a different kind of school with Sindee Norman before his mom got home, was back home by the time his mom returned, housework to help mom out, dinner, homework, His mom would tell him goodbye when she headed to yoga, he would get a shameful hardon from the unbidden carnal images of his mom that flooded his mind when he saw her ass and legs and tummy in her yoga outfit, he would jerk off to something unrelated to his mom, and then he would finish his homework and go to bed. It all worked pretty well, except for the erotic dreams he had now were more and more about the one woman in the world he absolutely should not have erotic dreams about. But what could he do? You couldn't control who you made beg for your cum deep inside her fertile, forbidden cunt or all over her pretty, motherly face in your dreams, could you?

His teachers this year were a mixed bag, as they always were. His favorites were the two teachers he'd had before. First was AP American Lit taught by Mrs. Clyde, whose wit, playfulness, caring natures, passion for the subject, and fun classes were beloved by students; he'd always had a crush on her, even though her jutting chin, slightly-too-prominent nose, and much-too-prominent canine teeth reminded other students of a werewolf or, if they were less charitably inclined, a man. Ms. Orozco, his Spanish teacher, had been a favorite since the first day of 9th grade, and he looked forward to her class as much more than any other on his schedule. His other two teachers there weren't great, but afternoons were spent with Olinka, Jesse, and Cassie in Professor Vogt's Data Structures course at Alcuin State University, which was rigorous and enthralling.

The women in his life - Luisa, mom, Aunt Tina, Sindee Norman - had all told him that he would be very popular with the girls this year, and they were not wrong. He was getting looks from girls who had been wildly out of his league before, and now he was confident enough to talk to them without panicking. As he'd told his mother, he ignored the ones who'd been mean to him before, but ones who had been nice or who had just ignored him before were fair game. He didn't make any moves on any of them because he wanted to get settled into the new school year before adding distractions, but he was making a mental list of girls who might be worth going after.

And not just girls. He'd always been a little bi-curious, like many boys, but had never explored it. Now, though, he'd noticed several openly gay students of the twinkier sort giving him appraising or even longing looks, and he didn't discourage it. There was even one, an Indian kid named Shashi Goswami, who stared openly at Ethan's crotch when he was at his locker and then gave him a bold and inviting smile. Who knew? If the opportunity came up, he might mess around with one or more of them a little. It might be fun.

Brianna slipped into her new routine without difficulty as well. Work was work, same as it ever was, and the kids she read to seemed enthralled by her hair as well as her personality and voices. By the end of the first week, a couple of the kids had brought her little presents, like flowers from their mom's gardens or a pretty rock. She didn't think she could have adored them more.

One big difference between this year and previous years was that she had always used to read in the evenings after dinner, when Harley retreated back to the bedroom. Books weren't just her job, they were her passion, and she devoured books like a starving woman devours food - fiction, nonfiction, it didn't matter, they were her lifeblood. This week, though, she had been playing Ethan's game in that time slot; except for Words With Friends, she was absolutely not a gamer, but Flying Monkey Express was like crack cocaine. She played it at work during lunch (she'd let both Charity and Ray play it, and they'd both bought it too), she raved about it at yoga, and when she got home and settled in, she annoyed Licorice by her sudden movements and occasional quiet yelps of triumph and groans of defeat. She knew nothing from nothing about what made one game sell and another not, but if addictive fun had any part in it, Ethan would make more money than he expected to from this.

More people seemed to be noticing her than ever before. Never in her life had she been the one guys paid attention to, and now that she was, she wasn't sure how to handle it. The library was a common hangout for high school kids who'd finished their school days but whose parents weren't home from work yet, and for the most part they were well-behaved and pleasant; now, though, many of the boys watched her as she moved around the library, and especially when she bent over. There were also a couple of horny old men who hung around, and they often got playfully naughty in their banter. In yoga classes, she'd been propositioned by men three separate times, all for drinks or coffee after class; she'd turned each of them down gently by stating she was married.

What really surprised her, though, was that there were a couple of high school girls who were always checking her out at the library, and there was one work-from-home mom who brought her little daughter in for the afternoon reading session who always blushed and looked away every time Brianna caught her staring. She'd caught a woman about ten years her senior giving her some looks at yoga too. It was so strange - in the books she'd read, there had been some very steamy lesbian scenes along with a larger number of hetero scenes, and she'd found both of them equally... well, she didn't really connect the word erotic to herself in any way, so perhaps interesting would be a better term; still, given that she had always held herself to be asexual, she had never thought about being bi. They were just exciting scenes, like well-written action sequences or snappy exchanges of dialogue or beautifully constructed sentences and paragraphs. Now, though, those looks were giving her that lovely fluttery feeling - she knew it couldn't be sexual because got the same feeling at an even greater intensity from Ethan, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

Ethan surprised her greatly when she got home from yoga on Thursday night, because he had one of the kitchen drawers emptied out and disassembled and was working on it with a pair of pliers. When she asked what he was doing, he said that he had noticed a leak under the sink so had gotten the tools out to fix it (fortunately pipes just needed tightening and not replacing). Since he had the tools out, he decided to fix the drawer that had started sticking recently, explaining that one of the sliders had gotten bent so he was taking it off to fix it. If he were Harley, she would have harangued him for weeks to get it done and then finally broken down and done it herself, but Ethan had simply seen a thing that needed doing and done it under his own initiative. Again, that fluttery tummy and empty abdomen!

For Harley's part, evidence just kept piling up that he was about to lose another job, and that made him miserable. He did take his search seriously and came up with something - a minimum-wage, 15-hour-per-week gig slinging boxes in a nearby liquor store. It was hardly the first time he'd had to get a side hustle to help pay when things got rough, but Brianna thought he was taking this one a little rougher than he had before. It was understandable - when you do everything right but keep getting punched in the face the same way over and over, it took a toll.

Brianna, having had a steady, decently-paying full-time gig since almost the day she graduated college, as well as having all the cooking and housekeeping duties and being the one who helped Ethan with his homework, at least until the middle of last year when his learning in his AP classes outstripped what she recalled from her own coursework, had always been immune from getting a second job. Now that she didn't have to help her son with his work and Ethan was taking some of the household load off of her, she was thinking she might need to find something to bring in additional cash. Harley had always opposed her getting a second job, so hopefully he would find a full-time position before the need got critical.

Of course there was another option that could ease things, and when Brianna turned off the lights and went back to the bedroom on Friday night to find a semi-drunk Harley still awake with his tablet, she decided it was time to cross that particular Rubicon. "Hey, um.. can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, not looking up from ESPN. com.

She sat down on the bed and put her feet up. She thought it was odd that he hadn't seemed to notice that she was now wearing yoga pants and a bra around the house. It was strange how completely two people could avoid each other in a place this small. She cleared her throat and asked, "How's the new job going?"

"Oh. Fine. It's grunt labor, nothing more. My bosses are OK. Not much to say about it."

"If worse comes to worst, I could get a second job."

He looked up at her, then back down at his tablet. "You've never had to do that before."

"No, but Ethan's going off to college next year and - "

"He's getting a full scholarship, right?"

"Oh I'm sure he'll get a lot of offers, yes. But still, he's going to need more money than just the scholarship. And I thought since I have more free time these days..."

"I'd really rather you didn't," he sighed. "But I guess if you have to then you have to. Let's wait until you have to, though, OK?"

"Alright." She paused, then, in the most casual tone she could manage, said, "If things start to get tight, I'm sure he'll want to help out too."

That made Harley set his tablet down and focus completely on Brianna. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there's the money from his game - he says it won't be much, but it could add up because the game is really good. I've played it."

"Whatever he earns from that goes straight to his college fund. That's the best thing he can do with it."

"OK, but now that he's done with his game and has more time, he might want to get a part-time job - you know, to chip in around here."

Harley's expression suddenly got very stern. "Next summer he can get a part-time job. Until he graduates, his job is getting the best scholarship he can for the best school he can get into."

"No, I know, but he changed a lot over the summer. He's a lot more assertive now."

"Because of that girl?"

Once more Brianna's mind played a highlight reel of sexual moans and pleas, and she blushed bright red. "Partially, I guess. But look at what he's been doing around the house, the cooking and cleaning to take a load off my shoulders. He wants to take care of people he loves, and that means us. If he sees us in financial straits, he's going to fight for the right to pitch in."

"No, absolutely not. You and I have always been on the same page about that - he doesn't get a job until graduation, period."

He was right in that the two of them had always agreed on the topic, but if things got tough, Ethan would almost certainly dissent from that. "He is an adult now. I don't think we can tell him not to get a job if he wants to get a job."

"Has he talked to you about this?"

"No, not a word. I'm just thinking about what might happen."

"Well if it does happen, then you and I are going to have to have a very serious discussion with him to make him understand where his priorities need to be. We haven't busted our butts this long to see him squander away his chance at a top-notch college by working in a damned convenience store."

"You're right," she nodded. And he was right, Ethan needed to focus on his studies and his extracurriculars and get shining applications out the door. The only thing was, would Ethan see it the same way?

Saturday, September 6 - Sunday, September 7

College applications were on Ethan's mind that weekend. Under Uncle Jim's guidance he had worked on some essays over the summer, and time spent researching colleges hadn't counted against his one-hour-per-day screentime limit. Some schools he'd ruled out because he didn't believe he had the high-powered resume to get in - colleges like Stanford, MIT, and Cal - Berkeley. Other's he'd crossed off the list for reasons of fit, including such schools as Harvard, UT Austin, and UCLA. His top targets were Princeton, Columbia, Cornell, Brown, Michigan, California Institute of Technology, Wisconsin - Madison, University of Chicago, and Penn State. Although he was quite confident he could get good scholarships into one or more of those schools, he also had a dozen safety net schools in mind, all of which were in the top fifty computer science schools in the country.

He got to work organizing his materials for his applications, and on Saturday he and Brianna busied themselves with intensity on figuring out everything he needed for his preferred schools. It was mentally exhausting, but they worked well together. Still, he had a hard time focusing at points. Sitting at the table next to his mom, smelling her shampoo, trying to ignore that her nipples were often poking little tents in her yoga bra, trying not to stare at her perfect lower half when she got up and moved around, trying to conceal from her the fact that her presence was giving him a painful erection - it was all just added stress and distraction that he didn't need as he prepared the most important paperwork of his young life. The distraction remained nevertheless. He was not proud of himself.

Brianna felt it too, even though she had no idea what she was feeling. It was that singular sensation that she was coming to love, the feeling she assumed must just be happiness from spending time so close to the son she adored and admired. She kept being distracted by how hard and sensitive her nipples were, by how her breasts felt fuller at times, by that addictive lightness in her stomach and the empty feeling below it. More than once she'd caught herself staring at his face when he wasn't paying attention to her and marveling at how handsome and strong he had become in such a short time, and what a lucky mom she was that such a handsome and strong and caring young man wanted to spend time with her.

Late that afternoon, Brianna went off to yoga classes, which she worked with a vigor that left her sore in muscles she was surprised even existed. Ethan, meanwhile, nipped across the street to pound Sindee's throat and then Sindee's asshole before blasting an enormous load across Sindee's face and forbidding her to wipe it off before he left, because a woman walking you to the door while wearing your cum was hot as fuck.

That evening, when Brianna was absorbed in trying to beat the Squirrel Gauntlet level of FME using Opal the Orangutan, Ethan was beating off not once but twice to hateful but unstoppable thoughts of making his mother beg on her knees for his nut. Once more, he was not proud of himself.

*

The next morning, Harley sat in the living room watching NFL pregame shows. Sundays in football season were his Holy Time, the time when the rest of the world dwindled to nothing as he watched armored combatants clash on the field. These were the days he looked forward to for the rest of the year, the days he thought about, the days he talked about with his friends. Usually he spent Sundays with his friends, in fact, reveling in the ups and downs of whatever game happened to be on at the moment. The New Kent Admirals, the city's NFL team, were his lifeblood even more than the MLB Maestros, the NBA Marauders, or the NHL Piranhas.

Today, however, he would miss almost everything except the evening game, because his shift at the liquor store started at noon and lasted until 8:00 PM. He sat on the sofa with a morose expression on his face, as though a cherished friend were on his deathbed, watching the clock for the moment it was time to leave.

Only a few feet away, in the dining room section of the space, Ethan and Brianna were working again on his application materials - most of the schools wanted everything done online, but almost a third of them still asked for physical application packets. She was giddy because that peculiar feeling was back again; she loved the way it made her skin sweetly prickly and the warm feeling she got in her chest when she so much as looked at Ethan's face or heard his voice. Working this closely with him was just so much fun! She supposed every mother must feel the same when they did something with their own children, even though she'd never really felt this way before when working with Ethan. Excitement because her son was on the edge of fulfilling his potential - that must be it.

For his part, Ethan was wishing he was wearing tighter underwear to better control his raging erection. As a teenage boy, he was a past master at pretending he didn't have a throbbing boner, but he couldn't pretend to himself - he knew he was hard and he knew why, and every time she brushed against him or he caught a whisper of her scent, he throbbed all the harder. He needed her help, though, and there was no other way to do it, so here he was.

Brianna made an early lunch the two men, although she herself abstained because she didn't want to eat too close to her impending workout. Harley left for work. Ethan and Brianna got back to work on organizing the application material, but at 1:00 she said, "Hey honey, do you mind if we take a break? I want to go spend some time at the yoga center, if that's OK with you."

In the moment, it didn't strike either of them as odd that she had just asked her son for permission to do something she wanted to do.

"Sure, we can pick this up later. You should wear your pink outfit, I like that one."

In the moment, it didn't strike either of them as odd that he had just told his mother to wear a specific outfit

A few minutes later she sauntered out of her room wearing the skintight pink ensemble that her son loved. She paused in front of the table and laughed as she did a little pirouette, loving that her son cared enough that he told what she ought to wear. Ethan marveled at her butt as she made her way out the door, and only afterward realized that he had told her to wear what was most sexually alluring to him.

God, I'm an asshole.

*

First Brianna did a series of asanas poses more strenuous than she normally did on a weeknight. She finished sore but exhilarated because she was finally sure that the initial poses she'd learned were getting easier for her. Just like running had been over the summer, this was becoming an addiction. It was also sad, though, because there was no way she could afford to continue the lessons after the introductory package she'd paid for expired. She could and would continue it as home, but it wasn't going to be the same. Maybe if Harley managed to find something quickly, the interruption in her lessons wouldn't last too long; after all, the lessons weren't expensive in an absolute sense, just relative to someone's whose income had just been slashed by nearly half and who had a mortgage to pay and a son to send to college.

After yoga came meditation. She loved the way meditation calmed and centered her, but today it was a challenge to get into the right headspace. She kept finding herself distracted and even preoccupied by how spending time with Ethan was making her feel - she'd try to focus on bodily sensations and eliminate them one by one from her consciousness, but then she'd become aware of her boobs rising and falling with each breath and just how good her bra felt on her sensitive skin, or how her heart got fluttery when she thought of her boy, or that inexplicable empty feeling in her abdomen. She did her best to achieve flow state, but it wasn't something you could force. She finished the session a little more frustrated than when she started, but eager to get home to see Ethan again.

On the way home she stopped off at the grocery for a quick shopping trip (she ran into a sale on whitefish fillets, so she knew what she was making tonight), and then stop at the drug store to pick up some Band-Aids and other necessities they'd run out of over the summer when she wasn't around to restock. One last stop was made at the gas station to top off her tank, and then it was homeward bound. She pulled into the garage, turned off the car, and climbed out, and it was only then, with the music off, that she heard the lawnmower going in the back yard. Ethan was taking care of things around the house.

She brought all her purchases into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter, keeping the fish out to thaw but putting most everything else away. As the last of the produce went into the fridge, she glanced out the back door into the yard and saw Ethan -

And froze. Ethan was there, standing by the lawnmower, wearing nothing but shoes and a pair of small running shorts. His torso was bare, and the sun made sharply-defined shadows on his muscles. He didn't have a weightlifter's body, but what he did have was her ideal masculine form: lithe, strong, bronzed, the ring of oblique muscles around the top of his shorts bulging. His body glistened with his sweat in the sunshine, and as she watched he tilted his head back and sprayed a stream of water onto his face, letting it run down onto his chest, and as she watched she was drawn numbly to the back door, looking out at the most perfect male she had ever seen in her life.

Brianna was stunned, just as surely as she would have been stunned had she been hit on the head. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks were flushed, her heart was hammering, and she stood rooted to the spot at the sight. Her mind was a wild jumble of half-thoughts, nothing connecting to anything else, but she was lightheaded and flushed and that empty feeling in her abdomen had turned into a vacant ache that she felt keenly. As he put a big hand up to wipe his face, she saw her reflection in the glass door and realized that she was nibbling her lower lip - and that her right hand had come up without her noticing and was squeezing her aching, sensitive breast through her yoga top.

At long last, the penny dropped. With a gasp that was half startled and half horrified, she lurched back, stumbling several steps until the refrigerator was between her and the back door and her view was cut off. She pressed her back to the pantry door, an appalled hand over her mouth. It all made sense now - horrifying sense, but sense nonetheless. The sensation that she'd been feeling more and more in the week and a half since she'd returned was sexual attraction toward her own son. And this wasn't the tame, weak sexual arousal she'd gotten from books or from others eyeing her up recently - compared to those pallid flames, what she felt for Ethan blazed like the detonation of a nuke. She wasn't just horny for her own flesh and blood, she was painfully horny for him.

She was the worst mother in the history of the world.

Moments later she was in her shower, the water as cold as she could stand it without her muscles locking up. She didn't think water could wash away this stain, but she had to try.

*

There was something wrong. When Ethan had come back inside from mowing and trimming the yard and cleaning up the grass clippings, he saw that his mom had come home from yoga and had bought groceries; what was odd, though, was that the empty bags were strewn around the kitchen. His mother abhorred a mess - especially a messy kitchen - and there was no way she'd have left things in this state without a good reason. His suspicions redoubled when he found the bag from the drug store, still full of bandages and hand sanitizer; those things he put away, then put the bags back onto their hook in the pantry. After that, still sweaty and stinking, he headed down the hall and rapped on his parents' door.

"Yes?" came a reply that sounded nervous, even startled.

"Are you OK?"

"Oh, yes, fine, just fine." Pause. "Why?"

"It just seemed like you were in a big hurry in the kitchen."

"Oh. Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you just left the bags out and - "

"I'm sorry. I'll take care of that. I'll come out and do that."

"It's OK, I took care of it. I was just worried."

"No need to worry, I'm fine. Everything's fine. I mean - I'm sick. Just a little. I wasn't feeling right, I mean I wasn't feeling well, so I laid down for a bit. But it's fine. I'm fine now."

Ethan's brow furrowed deeper than it ever had before. "Mom, are you alright? Can I come in?"

"NO! I mean - I mean, yes I'm alright and no you can't come in. It's... I'm... I'm not decent. I was changing clothes. You caught me changing clothes."

"OK..." His mom hadn't acted this weird the few times when he'd walked in on her stark naked when he was a little kid; back then she'd just grabbed something to cover herself, gently reminded him to knock, and asked him to wait outside. Why would she be this freaked out about changing clothes with a closed door between them? "Are you sure everything's OK?"

"Yes, it's fine, it's all fine. I'll be out to make dinner in a little while."

"Why don't you just rest," he suggested. "I'll whip something up."

"There's fish on the counter."

"I saw that. I'll make rice and some veggies with it. How does that sound?"

"Great!" came the too-emphatic answer. Nobody in the history of the world had ever gotten that excited about rice and vegetables.

"Alright... well... I'm gonna go clean up."

"Scoot, you smell like a monkey house."

A few minutes later, lying on her bed, Brianna heard the shower turn on. Her son was naked in the next room, water cascading down the most glorious body she had ever seen in her life and running in sheets off the cock she had seen pummeling Luisa and forcing those gorgeous sounds from her lips. Her nipples were so hard at the thought that they could etch brass, her heart felt like a hummingbird inside her ribcage, and that empty ache that she had been thinking of as being in her lower abdomen was now very obviously in her vagina. She had never felt anything like this in her life.

It turned out she wasn't asexual after all. Who the fuck knew?

"Why, God?" she moaned softly, even though she was an atheist. "Why him?" If she had felt this way about someone else, anyone else, male or female or something else, it would have been fine. Well, no, not fine fine, but it wouldn't have made her feel this kind of self-loathing. In fact, she would probably have been happy to discover that a side of herself that she had always felt not to exist was alive and well and hungry to be fed. There was no way she could feel that sanguine about her attraction to Ethan.

"Why?" she whispered again, but even as she did, she understood why, at least somewhat. Ethan was the person she loved most in the world, by a very large margin. She loved Harley too, but it was more a love of respect and shared hardship; there had never been anything romantic about it, much less sexual. Harley was not a sexual person... but Ethan was, and she'd felt the pull from the moment she spotted him in the airport. She hadn't recognized it then (how could she have?) but there was no denying it now.

Ethan was gorgeous, confident, and sure of who he was, and all that was bound to be compelling. She already loved him to death before all this, and the erotic desire had built while she was ignorant of what it really was and what it meant. Spending time with him, laughing, having fun - he even did things for her that her own husband of fourteen years would never dream of doing.

She thought about Harley, about the relationship she had with him. He was the father of her child and he'd stuck around to help raise him when he'd had no obligation to do so, and for that she would forever be grateful. In practical terms, though, they had never been more than roommates. He wasn't a bad man, he was just...

Barely a man at all.

Brianna shook her head in disgust, because that was Lauren talking. At the beginning, Harley had been a supportive husband to her. Over the years, though, he'd closed himself off or shut himself down and now she didn't even bother to talk to him about her day. He only shared information about his day with her when there was something unavoidable, like being laid off. If not separate lives, they at least moved in separate spheres, only casually and briefly touching each other's worlds.

And Ethan was so present, so in the moment, in every moment. When Ethan listened, he seemed to listen with everything inside of him and make sure she felt heard and understood. No man had ever really been that with her and damn it but that was sexy as hell. Having a man cook for her and take some housework off of her shoulders was sexy as hell. Having a man willing to fix things was sexy as hell.

Having a man around the house who cared deeply about her and loved her was sexy. As. Hell.

She punched her pillow. If it had been anyone but Ethan, she... what? What if it had been anyone but Ethan? What if it had been a handsome patron at the library, or that overly-forward woman at yoga who had stirred these feelings in her? What then? It wasn't an easy question. At their wedding she and Harley had promised to forsake all others and, except a brief stumble Harley had at the beginning when he'd had a romantic but non-sexual dalliance with a woman from his first job, they had done just that. She had never had feelings of any kind for anyone else, and she had done her best to make herself invisible for most of the past two decades so she doubted anyone had noticed she was alive, much less had wanted her.

But if she had felt this way about someone and someone had returned the feelings? Prior to being in it, she would have said she could have resisted the temptation, but this was the most alive she had ever felt in her entire life. Nothing with Harley could match this or even hold a candle to it - it just wasn't that kind of a relationship. If she'd have felt like this in the last eight or so years when Harley had really shut down... yeah, she'd have acted on it and had an affair, but that was out of the question with her son. Obviously.

And she had to spend the next year cheek-by-jowl with him.

She had to get her shit together. She had to control herself, to stop thinking erotic thoughts about her son, to figure out some way to shut all of this down, and above all, to make sure that Ethan never, ever figured out what she was feeling; if he knew or even suspected, he would be disgusted and repulsed and she'd lose forever the wonderful relationship she had with her beloved son. Nothing in her life meant more than that relationship. She needed to make all this nonsense go away.

And she had no idea how even to start making that happen.

*

Mom's recipe for easy rice pilaf was cooking away on the stovetop and the fish had just gone into the oven, so it was time for Ethan to start steaming the broccoli. The meal was so easy that he could have made it even before his sojourn into Aunt Tina's kitchen, if he had had the confidence - and it was a good thing too, because his mind was absolutely not on food prep. Ethan was a worried man.

He knew his mother lied to him when she said she was sick. She was deliberately avoiding him, and he could think of only one reason for that: somehow she had found out about him and Sindee.

Of course he was an adult now and was free to stick his dick into any willing adult hole he fancied. The thing was, his mom's loathing for Sindee was intense and fierce, and if she did know... well, the shit would hit the fan around here. His mom would be angry with him, which was bad enough, but worse than that she would be disappointed in him. She was the most important person in his world, and he would rather see her furious than look into her eyes and see that he had let her down - his heart hurt just at the thought.

The funny thing was, Sindee liked Brianna, or at least she respected her. Brianna had kept a husband for fourteen years, and since Sindee was an expert in the many reasons husbands had to cheat, she figured Brianna must be doing something very right. Ethan didn't talk about the lack of fire or romantic love in his house because that was none of Sindee's business, but Sindee seemed to know about it anyway and accepted that people could be happy in different ways. At any rate, she never spoke of Brianna in anything other than positive terms.

That was Sindee's way, though: she never had anything bad to say about anyone, not even the significant others of her many lovers. She liked to screw people who were in committed relationships because it meant less emotional entanglements for her, and she found amusing the frequent blowups with cheated-upon amors - in her view, happy people didn't cheat, so if someone cheated on you, you had to blame yourself. She hoped the women and men who sometimes raged at her for "stealing" their men or women would take it as a learning experience and do better, either in their current relationship or the next. There was never anything personal, either in the sex or in the fact that she was throwing a bomb into other people's love lives.

His mom, of course, could never understand that (hell, Ethan sometimes didn't understand it). To her, Sindee represented everything that was wrong in how people behaved: Sindee was selfish, taking what she wanted without regard to who it hurt... and Brianna wasn't wrong about that. Sindee would counter that anyone who would cheat with her would cheat with someone else sooner or later, so what difference did it make if she was the one having fun? Brianna would counter that with a string of invective.

So knowing that Sindee was giving him sex lessons would make her think much less of him. If she did know, then he would have to stop seeing Sindee. That would suck too too, though - Luisa had quickly taught him everything that a 21-year-old girl knew about sex and then they'd gone on to learn together, but Sindee was on a whole different level. Where Luisa had been a talented amateur, Sindee could make a killing if she turned pro. She was teaching him things he never would have dreamed of, and she was eager to see him develop his dominant side ("You'll have all the little high school bitches fighting for this big fat dick if you know how to treat them"). She didn't want anything from him but a good time.

But he'd give that up in a second if doing it hurt his mom; he'd do anything - anything at all - to make Brianna really happy.

Dinner was served a few minutes later, and it was a tense affair. Brianna perched on the edge of her chair, picked nervously at her food, and refused to make eye contact with him - she barely even spoke, and then only in short, jerky sentences muttered at her plate. Three times he asked her if something was wrong, and then four times he asked her what was wrong, and she didn't give a decent answer to anything. He was just about to flat-out order her to say something already, but then she abruptly finished eating, said she'd come back out later to do the dishes, and bolted to her room like something was after her.

Before bed he checked the sales of Flying Monkey Express, as he did every evening. The total stood at 347, a whopping 16 more than on Saturday. It meant over a thousand dollars in his pocket, and he would never complain about that. The lion's share of the sales had been made in the first three days to coding board members, family, and close friends, and since then it had been a slow trickle of ten to twenty sales per day. The game was carrying a five-star rating on all the platforms and getting rave reviews, but nobody was reading them. Soon enough the game would be down to five sales a day, then five a week. So it went. He'd told them all it would go this way.

Monday, September 8 - Sunday, September 15

Monday dawned on three Mitchells, each miserable for their own reasons.

Ethan hoped for a chance to talk to his mom before school, but again she wouldn't meet his eyes, and only stayed in the room with him long enough to serve him breakfast and wish him a good day. He tried to draw her out via text during the day, thinking that it might be an easier medium for her to say what she needed to say, but again her replies were terse and not to the point. He ended up pushing it to the back of his mind to focus on school, which was also how he handled his own highly inappropriate thoughts about his mom. He just needed to keep the boat steady while he figured this shit out.

Brianna barely slept, because every time she closed her eyes she saw Ethan in the back yard, nearly naked and perfect, his bronze skin shining in the sun, and every time that happened she was reminded how how upsettingly horny she was. She was exhausted at breakfast and couldn't bear to look at her son, and she was distracted at work because of fatigue. Every man younger than fifty whom she saw made her think of Ethan and get aroused again, and every time her nipples got hard and her pussy clenched in hunger for her own flesh and blood she wanted to fold herself up into two dimensions, slide through the molecules of the floor, and keep right on going until she hit Hell.

Harley, of course, faced the real possibility that a crap part-time grunt labor job would be the whole of his immediate future. He took it about as well as a man who thought of himself as a provider ought to.

The biggest thing that happened to Ethan that day was when he was walking the short distance from Mr. Unser's first-period physics class to Mr. Valentinov's second-period calc class. He was minding his own business, lost in thought and only noticing other people enough that he didn't run into them, when he heard a girl's voice call his name. Turning, he saw Becky Hauptman standing by her locker, looking at him. "Oh, hi Becky. What's up?"

"You had AP chem last year, right?"

Becky was one of the nicest girls in school and had always been pleasant to him, but she was also insanely popular, a cheerleader, and very pretty, so he was amazed she knew that about his classes. "Uh... yeah?"

"I'm in chemistry this year - the regular kind, which means you've probably already covered everything I'm doing now."

"Probably, I guess."

"Well I am not getting it at all, and my parents want to hire a tutor. I was wondering if you're available?"

"Umm... yeah, sure, why not? What were you thinking?"

"I'll hit you up with the details later and we can work something out. I gotta run, my next class is on the other side of the school. Talk to you later!"

As much as he had on his mind, Ethan couldn't help but smile. Becky was a sweetheart and he was happy to help her - and she'd said hire, which meant there was money involved, which was more than welcome. Of course the fact that she was the gorgeous all-American blonde girl-next-door type didn't hurt anything either; it wasn't that he thought that this would every be anything more than what it seemed on the surface, but she would certainly be nice to look at while he taught her chemistry.

Since he might not have many more times to visit Sindee, Ethan went straight there after Olinka dropped him off from his Data Structures class, and this time he wasted no time working out. It was straight to the sex, first with a hard throat-fuck, then with her riding him on the weight bench while she clung to the barbell for support, and last to her bed where she taught him a technique to fuck an ass that even an anal virgin would swoon over. He didn't tell her this might be the last time; he wasn't sure how much she'd have cared if he had.

Once home, Brianna made a fast, easy meal of Parmesan garlic pork chops with roasted potatoes and asparagus. Once again she barely spoke to her son at the table, and since Harley wasn't in the mood to chatter, it was only Ethan trying to make conversation; when nobody took him up on it, he fell into a silence.

Even though she couldn't look into his eyes, Brianna couldn't keep her eyes off of Ethan. He wasn't doing anything unusual, he wasn't dressed particularly well, and he groomed neatly but not to impress, but just being this close to him and seeing him move and breathe and exist was doing things to her that she could neither tolerate nor stop. From beneath lidded eyes she watched him, acutely aware of her own growing need. Is this kind of agonizing longing what everyone goes through when they're aroused? How does anyone stand it?

The answer, of course, was that people tended to stand it by doing something about it, either with the person in question or by themselves. She understood that. Obviously she could never do anything with him (not that he'd ever even imagine her that way!) but she absolutely would not damn herself by masturbating to images of her own son. Besides, she didn't even know how to masturbate because she'd never even thought of doing it before - her parents would have had her hide tacked to the wall if she'd have done it before she got pregnant with Ethan, and afterwards her libido was dead (or more accurately, dormant).

When everyone was done eating, she sent the men off to do their own things while she slowly did dishes and stewed in her own moral degradation. After that she sat down on the easy chair to play Flying Monkey Express. Harley took up the sofa, from which he stared sullenly at ESPN. Licorice contented himself with making repeated stealthy approaches and sudden attacks on Brianna's foot as it bobbed in house slippers. FME was riveting, so at least that was one thing she could do that would distract her from imagining how her son's lips would feel on hers.

That evening, Becky arranged with Ethan to pay him $25 a session for twice-weekly tutoring on Monday and Thursday evenings. They had their first session that evening, and it didn't go as well as Ethan expected it to. He wasn't sure why, because Becky was more than smart enough to grasp the material, she was just having a hard time getting it. She was far too sweet to get frustrated with him, but that was OK because he was frustrated enough with himself for the both of them. He was getting paid to help her, and he was damned well going to earn his money - he just had to figure out her learning style. Plus, dwelling on that kept him from thinking how his mom's pussy lips would spread open to engulf him as he sank his cock into her.

*

The next day, as Brianna was heading out the door for work, her phone rang with a call from Harley. "Hello?"

"Yeah, it happened. The company's gone."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. What did they say?"

"Damned near nothing. They just said the company had been sold and would cease operations immediately."

"Well, shit. Was there severance?"

"Not a penny. We had seventy-one employees, and the state-mandated sixty-day mass layoff package kicks in at seventy-five."

Brianna wobbled a bit. Every job Harley had been forced to leave before had provided funds to soften the blow, even if it was just a token severance package. She had counted on that this time too. Suddenly the family was in a financial crisis. "Crap. I'm sorry."

"Me too. I'm headed home."

"Did you want me to call in to work today?"

"No, you need to be there. I'll be fine. See you when you get home."

"Love you."

"Yeah, love you."

Brianna wasn't horny at all that day, and neither was Ethan after she shot him a text explaining the situation. That, at least, was a relief of a sorts.

When Ethan got home after his college course, he did his level best to draw his father out into a conversation so he could offer him support, man to man. Harley communicated in disinterested monosyllables, so Ethan launched himself into cleaning; he had rendered the kitchen and the living/dining room spotless by the time his mom walked in the door.

Brianna had little better luck getting her husband to talk than did Ethan, at least out where Ethan could hear. Finally she dragged him to the bedroom, where he went through things in some detail, including his job search strategy. Honestly there weren't many facts to report, and if Harley had ever been the kind to share his emotions with her, he wasn't that anymore; years of depression had closed him off tightly.

She made a garden salad with chopped chicken for dinner and then spent the evening looking at their finances from six different angles. The news was bad. Harley was going to have to find a good job fast, or else several more part-time jobs if they were going to stay above water on the mortgage; otherwise, she was going to have to get a side gig very quickly no matter how much Harley objected - and more than that, they might need every nickle Ethan could give them. God forbid that there should be car trouble or something in the house needed repair - even if they could do the work themselves, that kind of thing got expensive, fast.

*

Once again Brianna had poor sleep, and her morning began mired in the same worries that had plagued her since Harley had contacted her yesterday morning. She'd already served Harley his breakfast and eaten her own, and now her husband was working on the desktop computer in their bedroom, looking for a job, as she busied herself in the kitchen cleaning up their dishes and preparing to make Ethan's omelet when he got back.

The money situation was critical. Her being in Kansas for eight months had ravaged their savings - Tina has covered Brianna's half of the mortgage payments but none of the other expenses and she certainly hadn't added money to savings like Brianna would have been able to do if she were here - and money was needed immediately. What a mess.

*

As he approached the house through a morning so humid and miserable that it made a normal, shitty New Kent late summer day look lovely in comparison, Ethan's mind was on something else entirely. He'd been giving his attraction to his mother a lot of thought, but nothing could seem to slow it down, much less stop it. It was weird, unnatural, and wrong, but he seemed to be stuck with it. He had come to realize, however, that that was a him problem, and therefore it was on him to deal with it. He was getting sex almost every day so it wasn't lack of action that was causing it, and it wasn't some long-repressed psychological complex because it had sprung from nothing when he'd laid eyes on her at the airport.

He'd been doing some reading online about this kind of thing, and he'd stumbled across the phenomenon of genetic sexual attraction, that odd thing that sometimes happened when siblings who were raised apart or parents and children separated at birth often had strong and even uncontrollable attraction to each when they finally met. Maybe, he thought, they had both changed so completely over the eight months apart that when they saw each other, something like that had happened to him. It was like he'd fallen in love at first sight with someone he'd known his whole life, and the feelings were damned hard to repress.

Whatever the cause, though, he had to repress them for obvious reasons. He could do it - he was a strong-willed man, and his libido wasn't going to lead him by the nose into ruining his relationship with his mother. He just had an infatuation, that was all, and infatuations came and went all the time; his Uncle Jim had told him that. He just needed to not act like an asshole until this stupid shit went away. He didn't need to be ashamed of it because it was nothing he sought and nothing he intended to act on, and anyway it was a common enough thing if internet porn stats were anything to go by, but he did need to control himself. Uncle Jim would control himself in this situation.

His shirt was saturated with sweat as he walked into the grass alongside the house to stretch and cool down. After a couple of minutes he pulled it off and used it to wipe himself down so he wouldn't drip all over the floor, and then headed into the house through the garage.

He heard his mother in the kitchen. He hoped she would act normally to him and not that weird standoffish thing she had been doing lately, if only because she had too much else on her mind to remember to be mad at him. He called out that he was home and then walked into the kitchen, stripped to the waist with his tee shirt over his shoulder. "Good morning mom. How are you?"

She looked up from cutting the tomatoes for his omelet and smiled at him automatically - and then froze like she'd been dipped in liquid nitrogen. She gasped, her eyes got big, and she stared at him for a long moment, holding her breath as her nipples blatantly hardened and her cheeks flushed crimson...

And suddenly he got it: she hadn't been mad at him because she knew about him and and the floozy across the street. She hadn't been mad at him at all. She was looking at him with pure, undisguised lust, just as thirsty a look as he'd ever gotten from Luisa or Sindee or anyone else, simply staring at him for a long moment, as completely horny as anyone he had ever seen - and then her blush went from red to purple, she pointed her eyes back at the cutting board, and said something unintelligible that might conceivably have been a good morning.

He headed for the shower, feeling the world around him getting tilty and unsteady. His own unrequited attraction he could handle, but this? There was always a monkey in the wrench.

*

Brianna sat in the break room, looking at her phone. She knew she ought to be looking for moneymaking opportunities or second jobs, but instead she had searched, "How to stop being attracted to someone."

God, the encounter in the kitchen still had her as randy as a bitch in heat. Seeing Ethan there, so close, so close to nude, skin shining and looking like a young god - she hadn't been mentally prepared for it, and for a seconds all she could think of was Ethan taking her into his strong arms, crushing her to him, and doing all the things she'd only read about... or all the things he'd done to Luisa. She was certain she had looked like a lunatic, and right now he must be thinking there was something very wrong with her; after all, he could never guess that his mother was a pervert who couldn't stop thinking about him in ways she shouldn't.

The advice on her phone screen was honestly less than helpful. It was all pitched toward someone attracted to a coworkers or acquaintance and little of it was applicable to a mom trying to turn off her rampant lust for her own son.

For example, people said to avoid unnecessary interactions, but she and Ethan they lived together in a small space, and almost all their interactions were necessary either for his present or future wellbeing. It was advised that she change her schedule to avoid him, but that was impossible too: her schedule was what it was and she couldn't stay up into the middle of the night just to duck her beloved little stringbean. Some people said it was good to spend time with friends and family, but Ethan was her family; other than him, she was down to Harley, who was a moody and depressed, and Lauren and Maryjo, who had their own lives; besides, Maryjo wasn't the kind of friend she could confide this to, and it would cause trouble with Harley if she saw Lauren more than she already did. Many people seemed to think seeing a therapist was a good idea and she agreed, but with her insurance the copays were unworkable in the current circumstances, and anyway she would be mortified to admit this perversion to a stranger, who would then be obligated to report it to the authorities because her son was 18 and living with her. The be-all, end-all option was cutting off all contact, but obviously she couldn't do that.

As for what she could try, there was some useful advice. One - using cognitive reframing and refocusing to think about other things - she'd been trying constantly since she realized what her feelings were. Every time she thought of something else, it lasted about thirty seconds before she was back thinking about how Ethan would look naked and what he'd be doing to her if she were naked too (even if she was fuzzy on a lot of those details).

Another piece of advice was to focus on other areas of her life, such as work and hobbies. That was going to be a challenge, because her job didn't offer overtime except in the most unusual of situations and it gave her no tasks that she could take home. As for hobbies, one was yoga, which always seemed to heat up her body and make her think of Ethan, and the other was reading, or rather these days, playing Flying Monkey Express. Both of those made her think of her son too, so she would really need that cognitive redirection. She needed to keep at it, though. Just because she'd met with no success so far didn't mean that she wouldn't master it in the future.

The Internet suggested confiding in, and getting advice from, someone she trusted. Obviously the only one she could trust with this was Lauren, and she was positive she could trust Lauren (Lauren had confessed actual crimes to her - not particularly serious crimes, but still felonies - and Brianna had kept the faith, so she knew Lauren would do the same for her). Having someone she could unload these feelings on did sound fantastic... but Lauren was going to lose her mind.

An important suggestion she saw in several places was to analyze her current relationship to see where it was lacking. That was easy - her romantic relationship didn't exist, for all practical purposes, and it never had. Harley on his best day didn't make her feel the way Ethan did all the time. She wasn't even sure she was capable of changing her feelings toward her husband at this point, she was even less sure that Harley would be interested, and she strongly doubted that whatever small success she achieved there would be worth the effort. Up until now she hadn't missed having sex and romance in her life, but these days... well, no point in dwelling on that. Once Harley got a job, he would meet expenses with her; maybe that was the best she could expect out of him these days.

A major point absolutely everyone made was to analyze why the object of her affection was arousing these needs and feelings in her. That, she understood all too well: she had lived her life hating herself, but getting into shape and doing everything else she'd done in Kansas had given her self-respect and made her feel proud of herself for the first time since the beginning of high school; it was only natural that her long-suppressed libido would awaken in the face of that. And right as that was happening, Ethan was there, as changed as she was or even more, and every change was good. Not only that, every change seemed calculated to draw the attention of her specifically - logically she knew that wasn't the case, but these days everything movement he made and every word he said punched her buttons and got her revved up. He was handsome, sexy, smart, funny, driven, capable, compassionate, caring, helpful, and strong, both physically and in willpower. That new exactly-what-she-craved version of him had dropped into her life like a thunderbolt, so how was she not supposed to fall head-over-heels for him?

The last piece of advice was well-intentioned but damned difficult in this situation: to acknowledge and accept that she had these feelings, and to be kind to herself about it. On the one hand she knew she had to do something like that, because sinking into endless self-recrimination and self-loathing over her attraction would poison her, undoing all her progress since Christmas and doing nothing to address the problem. On the other hand, there were about a million reasons why what she was feeling was wholly unacceptable, far more than if she had fallen for some random person other than Harley. It was like a Moebius strip, where every direction she went landed her back at the beginning.

She wasn't figuring out how to get out of this on her own. She switched to text and sent the following:

Hey girl, got a minute?

Lauren replied almost immediately.

4 u, always

Sup?

I've got something big on my mind. Are you around for dinner tonight?

Only if u dont mind a 2yo & 4yo tearin shit up

Normally Brianna loved seeing Lauren's kids, but for this she didn't want kids around.

NM, it's an adult topic

ooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooh, now im intrigued

Give me a bit to see if Jordan's available to take the evening with themselves

OK

A few minutes later, Lauren came back.

Jordan came thru

Where u wanna go?

Anyplace free. Finances are critical.

Yea u sed last night

Is that what u want 2 talk abt?

No, it's something else

BITCH R U GETTIN A DIVORCE???

No! Jeez

Shit. Way 2 build up false expectations

Come 2 my place after work

Ill order that Thai place u like

You're the best. See you then

Love you

Well, this was going to be... fun. She quickly texted Harley to say that she was going to dinner with Lauren, and then texted Ethan to see if he could cook a quick dinner for himself and his father when he got home. He said he would.

In spite of everything else going on, Brianna thought of nothing but Ethan for the rest of the afternoon. Even when she was reading to the kids and doing funny voices and acting things out, her mind was inventing things that Ethan might do to her to make her moan like Luisa (again the details were fuzzy because of the total lack of firsthand experience, but she had her reading to fall back on). The only time when her wicked train of thought was interrupted was when that adorable little boy who thought she had pretty hair gave her a bouquet of dandelions he had picked for her; the moment was too pure for her to think about lust, but as soon as she had them in a water-filled cup, her brain was back at it.

That was why she was hornier than she knew a person could be by the time she pulled up to Lauren's place. Lauren lived in a condo in Ravenhead, a well-to-do neighborhood that was a mecca for tourists and school field trips. From her front door she could see Fort Ravenhead, a hulking stone edifice originally built by the British back when the state was just a colony and later captured and much embiggened by the patriots during the Revolution. There had even been a battle fought there during the War of 1812, after which the fort had needed to be rebuilt from burned-out ruins.

Lauren answered the door wearing a pair of skinnies and tee shirt emblazoned with the words Smells Like Slut In Here; that wasn't surprising, as Lauren had a collection of clothes she couldn't wear when her kids were around, and she never missed a chance to air them out. Throwing her arms wide, she said, "Hey Saint Brianna, bring it in here."

Saint Brianna was a teasing nickname Lauren had given her in college, when Brianna had resisted all Lauren's efforts to drag her out to bars and parties (and, twice, orgies). "You might want to hold off on the 'saint' business until you hear what I have to say."

Lauren arched an eyebrow. "Have you killed again?"

"Only a few people," Brianna answered in perfect deadpan. "But they were all annoying. Oh my god, do I smell roast duck?"

"I got you, princess. I know what you like." She didn't lie: in addition to the duck, there was goong hom pha, pork pha ram long song, a fish curry that was so hot it made you see other dimensions, and mango sticky rice for dessert.

Brianna ate mightily, so much so that she groaned as she leaned back from her plate for the last time. "That really hit the spot. Thank you."

"You're taking all these leftovers home."

"Oh no no I couldn't possibly OK thanks," Brianna said. Lauren had grown up as a latchkey kid, eating leftovers for two-thirds of her meals; she had vowed never to eat leftovers again.

"So, ready to tell me what's going on?"

"Ugh. Let's... move this to the living room. I think I need to be sitting comfortably for this." They stowed the large amount of remaining food in the refrigerator and adjourned to the next room, where they sat on opposite ends of Lauren's sofa. As she nestled in, Brianna said, "I've really stepped in it this time. I don't know what to do and I need your advice."

"And now I'm worried. What's going on?"

A deep breath, and then, "I'm attracted to someone, like really nuts about them."

Lauren had obviously been braced for the worst, but at this news she broke out into a smile so big it barely fit on her face. "Sweet fuck, it's about time! I knew you weren't frigid. This is awesome!"

"It's not awesome, it's terrible."

"Is it a guy, a girl, nonbinary, what are we dealing with here?"

"A guy. An amazing guy. And it's terrible because I'm married and because this person is a hundred percent off limits."

"Jesus, he's not underage, is he?"

"What? No, of course not! He's an adult... I mean barely, but he's an adult."

"Oooh-hoo-hoo! A high school boy? One of Ethan's friends?"

"I... yeah, one of Ethan's friends."

"So what's the problem? Hey wait, didn't you say Ethan only has two guy friends? Is it the fat one or the goofy-looking one?"

"It's not. I mean it's neither. It's a new friend."

"What's his name?"

"Frederick," Brianna said without thinking, and then blanched when she realized she'd just given her Ethan's middle name. "Anyway, he's off limits so it doesn't matter what his name is."

"Why is he off limits?"

"He's... uhhh... he's Ethan's friend, that's why. Ethan would be angry if he knew."

"Are you sure? I think he'd understand your need to get some."

"No, I don't think he'd understand this."

"Do you think Ethan is smart enough to know that there's nothing sexual in your marriage?"

"I... well... probably. I mean... yeah, of course he is. You'd have to be a lot more clueless than he is to grow up in that house and not notice the, um, lack of heat between Harley and I."

"So is this guy an asshole? Or a bully? Someone who's making Ethan miserable?"

"No, he's Ethan's friend."

"Ethan might surprise you. I think he's a lot more worldly than you are."

"Probably. But anyway, I've got it bad for this kid and I can't stop thinking about him - obsessing about him, really."

"Do you think he returns the feelings?"

"No! Shit no, of course not! Jeez. Why would he?"

Lauren arched an eyebrow. "Because you're hot as fuck now?"

"Well no, I'm sure he doesn't. There's no way he does."

"Would you even recognize it if he did?"

"I... I think so. I'm pretty sure I would."

"Even if he doesn't return your feelings in full force, there aren't many 18-year-old kids who'd pass up a chance to fuck a hot MILF."

"Ugh, don't call me a MILF, it's gross."

"Take it as a compliment."

"No."

"Listen, what's the problem here? How often do you even see this kid?"

"Ummm... I see him all the time. I can't really avoid him."

"Why not? Does Ethan bring him around every day or something? Just tell him you don't like the kid and don't want him there."

"No, it's not that. I see him... I see him at work. Every day at work. He comes by the library after school and we talk."

"You don't have to talk to him. Just tell him you're busy and go off doing something else. I thought you spent your whole day reading to kids anyway."

"Not the whole day. And... and I don't think I can avoid him like that."

"Why not?"

"I... um... I... don't want him to complain to Maryjo about me."

"Just tell her that he skeeves you and you want to avoid him."

"I... um... that won't work. It just won't."

"Well I'm happy your yoga is working and your Svadhisthana finally woke up. Maybe take some kundalini classes. And I absolutely think you should have aaaaallll the affairs. I'm just not sure what you want from me here."

"I want to know... how to stop being attracted to him."

"To know that, you need to know why you're attracted to him in the first place. Do you?"

"Oh, yes. He's perfect."

"Wow, you got all swoony there, for real. I half expected you to go into a flashback sequence."

"Shut up."

"How is he perfect?"

"He's just... he's caring and sweet and strong and smart and incisive and funny and handy and forceful and powerful and - "

"Yeah, I get it. Is he hot?"

"Oh my god, you have no fucking idea. My skin tingles when I see him."

"You've obviously got it bad for this guy."

"So what do I do?"

"I might be able to tell you that if you answer one question: why are you lying?"

"Wha-a-a-a-at?"

"Don't play me, Brianna. We both know I've been able to see through you since the day we met. I don't know what you're not telling me, but you're not telling me something, and it's important."

Brianna got a panicked look. It was true, she had never been able to sneak even a little white lie past Lauren. This conversation was a terrible idea. "I think I ought to be going..."

"Oh sit down. You know you can tell me absolutely anything and I won't judge you. You knew I'd encourage you to go for the guy. So why would you lie..." Lauren paused just for a moment, lips pursed and brow furrowed - and then her eyes got enormous. "OMfuckingG, it's Ethan, isn't it?"

Brianna threw herself back into the corner of the couch, covered her face with her hands, and mumbled, "Oh fuck you. I can't believe it."

"Is it?"

"Yes," Brianna said disgustedly. "You know it is. I should have known better than to try to use a smoke screen to begin with."

"Wow. Give me a second to process."

"I'm disgusting and crazy, right?"

"No, you're human. Humans think all kinds of things. Maybe you'd better start at the beginning."

"You already know some of it."

"Tell it all again, nothing omitted. Let me get some perspective."

Brianna did, starting with the night she saw the video and working through the growth of what she now recognized was sexual attraction. Lauren was obviously amused that Brianna had been so closed-off to sex that she didn't even know what horniness felt like, but she restricted herself to a single laugh on the topic. Brianna tried to get past seeing Ethan mowing the lawn with a brief description, but Lauren insisted that she describe it in some detail - Brianna's reaction and thoughts, rather than what she saw; that moment just seemed to emphasize that Brianna was having a harder and harder time keeping these new, thrilling emotions in check. When she was done, Lauren circled back to a few points to ask questions before finally leaning back with a thoughtful expression.

Brianna tried to wait for Lauren to speak, but after having so thoroughly laid herself bare, she needed some kind of feedback. After only a few seconds, she asked, "Well?"

Lauren lifted her hand to suggest that she needed a few more moments, but finally she said, "I understand why this has you tied in knots. This isn't something that every mother feels."

"It's not something any mother feels!"

"OK, that's my next point: you're wrong. Incest is a lot more common than you think it is, and a lot more common than people admit. Incest fantasies are way, way more common than that even. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Oh come on, you can't believe that."

"Brianna, listen to me. This is important. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"You can't help who you fall in love with, or who you get a crush on, or who you find attractive. We're each, like... like half a jigsaw puzzle, right? We're each half the picture we ought to be. And when we find someone who makes up the other half of the picture and all their curves and weird shapes fit in the gaps left by our curves and weird shapes, you suddenly see your whole picture and you want that person. It's not something you think about or decide, it's just your mind and your body and your spirit all saying, 'Yes, that person is what we need' and bam, you're in it."

Brianna, as reluctant and filled with self-loathing as she was, couldn't help but admit the truth of what Lauren was saying. She nodded sullenly, then asked, "But why Ethan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do I have these feelings for him?"

"If you mean, why Ethan and not someone else, then who knows? The heart is a fickle little bitch, it does what it wants. But if you mean why are you attracted to Ethan at all, then it's because he's perfect for you."

"Aagh! That is not what I want to hear!"

"The only way you can deal with this and not tear yourself into shreds is to be honest with yourself. You need to be really clear-eyed and assess what pulled you to him if you eventually want to pull yourself away. Otherwise you'll be feeling this same way when you're old and gray in a nursing home somewhere."

Once more, Brianna heard the sound of truth. "OK. Fine. He's... fuuuuuuuuuck, this is gonna be hard."

"I know, babe."

Brianna jerked her head sharply as if to shake off the effects of a punch to the face. "OK. OK. What do you mean when you say he's perfect?"

"He's not perfect, he's just perfect for you. It's different. But what I meant was that he's everything you've always needed in a man, you just never knew it because you've never even acknowledged your sexual side and you've been saddled with Harley this whole time, and he's almost exactly the opposite of what you need. As much as I shit on Harley, it's not like he can help it - he's who he is, and it's not his fault that he was born with almost none of the personality features you crave in a partner."

"He's a good provider."

"He wants to be a good provider but he can't keep a job."

"Which isn't his fault."

"Granted, but shit is what it is no matter of intentions. Anyway, we aren't talking about his money, we're talking about what Ethan offers that Harley doesn't. It's not just that he's vastly hotter, we know that. What else does he bring?"

"For one thing, he's so present. Even when he's home, Harley is off by himself, doing his own thing. When Ethan is there for me, he is there one-hundred-percent. He listens, he pays attention, he helps without being asked, he fixes things - "

"Nothing in the world is sexier than a man who knows how to fix things. You said he fixed some plumbing and a drawer?"

"Yeah, and he didn't even need to be told. He probably wouldn't even have mentioned it if I hadn't caught him in the act."

"That's just hot. If he were over here fixing my pipes, I'd be bouncing on his for sure."

"Lauren!"

"Sorry, sorry, it was a joke. I'm not going to steal your man."

"LAUREN!"

"Fine, I know, too soon. What else does he bring?"

"He's so... fucking... masculine. I guess he's always been masculine, just not in the typical sports way most guys are. He's very much a guy, but his energy..."

"I know what you mean. It's always been there, but with his activities over summer, it's turned up to eleven, right?"

"Yeah, that's it. It's the kind of energy I just want to be close to."

"Do you know how other women see him?"

"His friend Olinka has a huge crush on him, but then she always has. I've seen that skank who lives across the street look at him like he's a caramel fudge brownie when he comes back from his morning run - thank God he's too smart to get mixed up with her. I'd have to burn her house down. And he's talked about girls at school who are way more interested in him now."

"Do you have pictures of him?"

"Yeah, tons."

"Show me." Brianna brought up her phone and handed it to Lauren, who flipped through the photos with a little grin that became a rather thirsty smile by the end. "You can see that energy. The way he looks at the camera..." She moved her hand rest above her crotch and spread her fingers out. "Sploosh."

"Gross."

"Bitch, he does the same to you. Don't be 'grossing' me."

"Give me my camera back, you hoe."

Lauren laughed and handed it back. "What else?"

"He's so smart it's scary."

"Hot."

"He's funny. He makes me laugh all the time."

"Hot."

"And... he knows what he wants, not just day-to-day but from life. He has such a good head on his shoulders and he's going after it hard."

"And when he sees something he wants?"

"He works hard until he gets it. He doesn't let things get in his way. And he's got this attitude, this way of talking and looking at me - when he tells me to do something..."

"Your natural submissive nature comes out?"

"I'm not submissive!"

Lauren threw her head back and laughed. "Bitch, please. You're as submissive as hell."

"I am not."

Suddenly Lauren looked boldly into her eyes and barked, "Brianna! Shut up and listen to me!" Brianna instantly went silent, eyes wide, waiting for what came next. After a pregnant pause, Lauren giggled. "See? Someone with a strong will tells you what to do and you do it."

Brianna blushed. "Not fair."

"But accurate."

"Hmmph. Maybe."

"You've spent your adult life with a beta male, when what you've always needed was an alpha stud to take control of you and make you do things his way. Ethan is exactly the kind of man who could do that, and some part of you realizes it. That's what you're responding to as much as anything else, I bet."

Brianna groaned, leaned back, and shut her eyes. "Ugh, Fuck. Maybe you're right."

"If you went out and found that kind of guy and got with him, maybe your feelings about Ethan would fade away."

"Maybe, but I'm married to Harley."

"Divorce is tremendously liberating."

"I'm not getting a divorce."

"Why not? Does Harley make you happy or satisfied in any way at all?"

Brianna was quiet for so long that she made herself uncomfortable. She desperately wanted to find something Harley gave her emotionally, anything that she could list in her husband's favor, but... "No. When he was younger he was a fantastic father to Ethan, and that made me very happy and very satisfied. But for the past ten years... no, nothing."

"Then why are you worried about being faithful to him?"

Brianna held up her left hand and wiggled her wedding band with her thumb. "It means something. It has to mean something. Because if it doesn't then... then it means I've wasted the last fourteen years of my life."

Lauren reached across to take that hand in hers and quietly said, "Better the last fourteen than the next fourteen."

Brianna opened her mouth to reply but shut it again. She could think of no counterargument.

"Listen, you didn't waste those years," Lauren said. "You had a young child to feed and clothe and take care of and you needed two incomes to do it, and besides you wanted Ethan to grow up with both parents. But Ethan is a grown man now. In a year he'll be leaving for college. He's old enough to handle his parents splitting up, and I think he'd blame Harley a lot more than he'd blame you."

"I don't want him to have to blame either of us."

"Listen. Really listen. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Ethan is long past believing that Harley is a good husband or a good father, and if he wasn't before he spent a whole summer learning from Uncle Farmer Yoda Daddy, he sure is now. Whatever Harley had to impart to him has been imparted for... what, the last eight or nine years? He doesn't need Harley anymore. And neither do you."

Brianna exhaled heavily. "Look, just lay off Harley, will you? He's not even the problem right now."

"If he were giving you what you needed, you never would have developed these feelings for Ethan. If he wasn't there and preventing you from going out and finding another guy who will really give your Svadhisthana a workout, you wouldn't have developed these feelings for Ethan. I'd say he's part of the problem right now."

"None of this is helping me stop feeling sick and disgusting things about my son!"

"OK, you're right, sorry. I just get mad because I know you deserve so much better."

"Thank you, I appreciate your concern. Now can we concentrate on how I can stop being the worst mom in the world?"

"Will you stop with that? You haven't done anything."

"But I want to. I have to be the only mother in the world who thinks of disgusting things like this."

"God you are clueless sometimes. Incest porn is the most popular category of porn on the Net."

"No way!"

"Do you want me to pull up a few sites and show you?"

"Ick, no, I don't want to see that. But anyway, it has to just be guys who watch that stuff. Mothers don't think that way about their kids, ever."

Lauren narrowed her eyes, then said, "Wait a sec," and pulled out her phone. She typed rapidly, and in about two minutes said, "OK, here's a random search result: a private study of 500 women with sons. Of those, 268 admitted to sexual fantasies about their sons. Of that 268, 152 admitted to peeking on their sons when the sons were naked, 97 admitted to some sexual contact with their sons, and 63 admitted to full-blown sexual intercourse. That's... let me open my calculator...53.6% of mothers fantasized about their sons...30.4% peeked...19.4% have had some sexual contact, aaaand...12.6% have had sex with their sons."

"There's no way that's right!"

"I agree, I'm guessing their methodology or sample selection was borked, or maybe the survey was done in Japan - mother-son incest is almost expected over there, the way I hear it. On the other hand, the interviews were not anonymous, and people more readily admit to embarrassing or illegal things under anonymity. So even if we cut it in half, that still leaves tens of millions of mothers in the world who've had sexual fantasies just like yours. You aren't a freak. You aren't even unusual."

"So just because other women are doing it, I should too?"

"No! These thoughts are making you miserable so you need to get rid of them. But that has to start by recognizing that these thoughts are part of the normal continuum of human experience, so it's OK to accept that you have them and not condemn yourself for having them."

"OK, fine, it's just... that might take some time."

"I get it. Just know that you aren't in this alone. I'm here for you every step of the way, day or night. I'm only a text or call away."

That led to a long hug. Lauren tried to return to the topic but Brianna had too much new information to digest. They spent another half an hour chatting about less stressful topics. As they said goodbye, Lauren told her to be strong. Moments later she was on her way home to drop off the leftovers, pick up a yoga outfit, say hello to her men, then off to her class.

*

After his daily visit to Sindee (she taught him few moves with his mouth that would have the ladies whimpering), Ethan came home and cooked pork chops for himself and Harley. It was a simple meal, but they both liked chops well enough to have them a couple of times a week. He really dug into his homework to give himself more time for the morning's revelation to sink in. His train of thought was interrupted by his mom saying hi while wearing that red and black yoga outfit that made her legs look a mile long, and after that it was kind of hard to concentrate. After he finally finished his homework, he worked on his college admissions stuff; he was still at it when his mom knocked top say goodnight through the door with Licorice perched on her shoulder like a parrot on a pirate. He worked a little longer, but bed was calling and he needed to be in it.

Lying in the dark, he quickly found he had no way to keep avoiding the subject he'd been avoiding all day long. He could deal with his own desire for his mom, lock it down and keep it under control so he wouldn't do anything foolish. Dealing with his mom's desire at the same time? That was going to make everything an order of magnitude harder. He wasn't even sure how to start.

That morning she hadn't given him an Oh he's cute look, or even a Damn, he's hot. The look she'd given him was the one he'd made Luisa give him constantly, the look that Sindee sometimes gave him when she'd spent all day horny and thinking about him: it was a look that said I need that dick in me now. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone give him a look that desperate. His mom had to be insanely aroused for him.

So... what about dad? Was he satisfying her at all? He'd bet every cent he had that they hadn't touched each other in years, but he knew he could be wrong about that. Maybe they screwed all the time, really quietly, and so his mom's hunger for him hadn't come from simple desperation but something deeper and more profound. He thought that would be worse, but he wasn't any more sure of that than he was about anything else in this screwy situation.

All he really knew was what he felt: a primal sexual attraction to his mother that was getting stronger all the time. At times it was difficult to think of anything else; he even thought of his mom when he was with Sindee sometimes. But it was just physical attraction to her new body, that was all -

Unbidden, his mind conjured an image of he and his mom waking up together in his bed, the morning sun coming through the window to fall on their naked bodies, each one awakening to the memory of the passionate sex they'd had the night before and smiling as the other was the first thing they saw that day. It was a powerfully erotic picture, but there was something else there, emotions not just lust.

He was definitely catching feelings for his mother.

He loved her very deeply. He wasn't in love with her, but there was almost nothing in the world he wouldn't do for her. However, he also knew it wasn't that simple. He was not a mature, experienced man, but even he knew that two strong, positive emotions held in the same brain are bound to get twisted together. He had a crush, a mad crush, and the things that he loved about her personality and her spirit were going to start informing that, assuming they hadn't already. If he didn't get a handle on this quickly, in love was going to follow soon - and if it did, he might do something intensely foolish and ruin everything.

The thing was, the intensity of that look she'd given him had him suspecting that if he did do something intensely foolish, she might very well welcome it, or at least let him do what he wanted. She would probably only allow it once and feel crippling guilt about it for the rest of her life, but if he wanted to put her yoga flexibility to use and pin her ankles to her ears, he doubted that she would stop him. And that was a weird thing to know about the woman who gave birth to you and raised you.

He did his best to think of something else - college, getting a car, the backpacking summer in Europe that he'd wanted to do since he was six years old - but there was no point. The situation with his mom was too big and too important for him to not dwell on it, and the more he dwelled on it, the more it became apparent that the situation was not merely more complicated now. Either one of them having unrequited feelings was dangerous, but in that situation an incautious look or word or action would be gently rebuffed by the other; now though, there was a real possibility that those looks or words or actions would be welcomed and would spiral and become something that couldn't be walked back from. And that wasn't even mentioning his dad - the man wasn't interested in what happened with his wife or his son but he was observant when he wanted to be, and with how small the house was and the fact that now he was in it almost all the time, it wasn't like he could miss his wife and his son panting after each other. Christ knew what would happen if he found out.

Rationally, he knew that what he and his mother were feeling had to be mostly infatuation. But infatuation could make you do insane things - and the longer they lasted, the more likely they were to get tied up with the love they felt for each other and become something much, much more. Therefore, he had to keep his shit strapped down... and he had to get a better read on where his mom was in this whole process. And that was going to be exquisitely uncomfortable for both of them... but a man didn't shrink away from uncomfortably necessary things.

*

Thursday had passed uneventfully, except that Ethan's second online mentoring session with Becky again didn't go all that well.. She just wasn't picking it up the way she should have been able to. He'd have to figure out some way to reach her. She was still nice to him at school on Friday, even briefly lassoing him into a conversation with a couple of her popular friends, both of whom turned out to be surprisingly nice (albeit confused about why a computer geek was talking to them).

*

Both Ethan and his mother spent Friday in a state of increasingly tense anticipation. Harley was going over to his friend's place again to watch sportsball, which was going to leave the two of them in the house. Alone. Working side-by-side for hours on Ethan's admissions packets. Brianna worried that she might make a fool out of herself swooning over her son, while Ethan worried about that plus himself swooning over his mom plus how he would sound her out about where her emotions were, which he absolutely had to do sooner rather than later.

He tried to take the edge off at Sindee's, taking her rock-hard ass in reverse cowgirl her in her living room before the workout and dogging her in her bedroom after it, but as a healthy eighteen-year-old, his refractory period was measured in negative increments of time. He made dinner (just a salad with imitation crab strips) so that he and his mom wouldn't need the added stress of cooking together. And then, after Brianna had done the dishes, they wound up sitting across from each other at the dining room table to work on admission stuff, with Brianna in the navy blue yoga outfit that made her hair look so sexy and her ass look so delicious.

Brianna tried to behave herself, but it was next to impossible. As often as not, when she ought to have been looking down at the college admission papers, she was looking at Ethan while trying to have him not see her looking at him; within half an hour she was rubbing her thighs together under the table, trying to get her hungry pussy to calm down (and failing, because the friction just made her hornier). More than once, Ethan had to say something two or three times for her to notice and respond.

Of course he knew exactly what was happening. It was happening to him too, because he was rock-hard in his shorts and he was finding concentration to be extremely difficult. But but the big, bad conversation needed to be had, and putting it off didn't make it any easier. About an hour in, he said, "Mom, can I ask you something?"

Brianna, who had been thinking lewd thoughts about him, sounded a little startled as she said, "Sure, of course. What is it?"

"How are things between you and dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how are things between you and dad."

"They're... fine, I mean same as they've always been. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just noticing some things between you and him - well, I noticed them a long time ago, but I decided to ask about them now."

"Oh. Well... our marriage is fine. There aren't any problems you need to worry about."

"Nothing at all?"

"No, nothing. Things are a little strained right now because of his not having a job, but that's just due to pressure and stress. You know how that goes with him. Once he finds work, he'll be back to normal."

"What do you think about that normal?"

"It is what it is. I've had a long time to get used to it."

"Does he make you happy?"

"I'm happy. Why are you asking?"

"Because I'm your son who loves you and I've had questions for a long time. I think we could understand each other better than we do, and I know that for my part, I'd like to learn more about you. I think you'd like to learn about me too. Right?"

She blushed and felt a little dizzy. "I guess so. I'd like that."

"So, does dad make you happy?"

"Like I said, I'm happy."

"But does dad make you happy?"

"I... I suppose so."

"In all ways?"

Her blush was so deep that it felt like her face was on fire. "What do you mean?"

"How's your love life?"

Her eyes got enormous and she blushed ferociously. "What? That's none of your business."

And now came the test that would tell him so much, whether she chose to answer it or not. Part of him didn't want to know, but he had to ask. Looking into her eyes, he kept his voice low and level and commanding as he said, "Mom. How is your love life?"

So much blood rushed to her head and her erogenous zones that she felt like she might swoon, and a thousand and one erotic scenes between herself and Ethan played on fast forward through her mind. She shouldn't answer. She couldn't answer. But the way he was looking at her and the way he spoke... not answering was never an option. "It doesn't exist."

"When was the last time?"

"It's been so long I don't remember. It wasn't notable enough to be worth remembering."

"Dad's bad in bed?"

"I... don't think that's any of your business, sweetie."

The way she said that told him everything. "You've never been with anyone else?"

"Where are all these inappropriate questions coming from?"

"Have you ever been with anyone else?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I never wanted to be."

"Why not?"

"We've never told you much about how we met, but I'm guessing your aunt filled in some gaps?" He nodded. "Then you can understand how sex has never been a major issue for me. It doesn't seem important to your father at all. Maybe he's ace."

"Are you?"

God, those eyes were boring holes right through her soul, and his voice was making it impossible to avoid answering whatever he askedc. "No. No, I'm not."

"Why haven't you been with other people if dad isn't fulfilling his responsibilities?"

"Because for a long time I thought I was ace too."

"What changed your mind?"

Oh god, she couldn't tell him the whole truth! He's never speak to her again. A huge part of her wanted to though, wanted just to blurt it out and see how he'd react to the knowledge that his mother couldn't stop thinking about doing things with him. No, she couldn't, not on pain of death; part of the truth would have to suffice. "It's... hard to explain. When I was in Kansas I learned a lot about myself and I changed myself a lot. The physical stuff, the weight loss and all, that's a minor part of it - the biggest thing I learned about myself was that I was worthy of love and respect, and the biggest change was that I came to love and respect myself. When you do that, everything changes."

"Was there someone in Kansas? Even just flirting?"

"Oh Christ no! You saw those zombies in my pictures, and they're even worse in person because you can smell their rotten teeth and bad hygiene. Toward the end, when I was looking good, a couple of guys came on to me - they even offered me money! I still throw up in my mouth a little when I think of it."

"Has there been anyone since you got back?"

"Ethan..."

"Has there been anyone since you got back?"

She sighed. "People at work and at yoga have eyed me up and flirted."

"Have you flirted back?"

"I guess so, maybe. To be honest I don't really know how to flirt, but I might have done it by accident."

"Anyone catch your eye?"

"Ethan, please."

"Yes or no. You don't need to tell me who. Is there anyone who caught your eye?"

She swallowed and her eyes dropped to the papers on the table. "Yes, Ethan. There is."

He nodded. "OK. How are we doing on the Cornell packet?"

"Oh. Oh... uhhh... we're missing the letter of recommendation from Mr. Filmore..."

*

That night, lying bed, Ethan grappled with the fact that his mother was, for all intents and purposes, a virgin. Yes, she'd suffered a horrible sexual violation at the hands of dad's brothers to make him; yes, she'd given birth to him; yes, she'd had sex with her husband, his dad, a handful of times since they married. Emotionally, though, she was untouched, and physically she had never been touched pleasantly and well. This whole situation was hard enough for him, and he had at least some experience - how much worse would it be if he had no experience, no mileposts, no frame of reference? How would she tell an infatuation from true love, a crush from a soulmate?

He had no idea how he was going to handle this without a big mess blowing up.

At the same moment, across the hall, his mother was lying on her back staring at the darkened ceiling, hearing her husband snoring next to her, and trying to understand what had happened that evening. Ethan had interrogated her with questions sons shouldn't ask their mothers, questions she absolutely knew were inappropriate ones for a parent with normal feelings for their children, never mind one who wanted to feel her son back inside of her. They were, all of them, questions she shouldn't have answered, but she did as she was told and responded to every one - and since then she had been hornier than she had ever been before. She'd taken a cold shower and, when that didn't work, a hot shower, and, when that didn't work, she went to bed. Now her hard nipples were sending sinful sensations through her body as they brushed against the cloth of her nightshirt, her pussy lips were puffy and demanding something, and her panties were clinging wetly to her crotch.

She had to stop thinking of Ethan and stop thinking sexy thoughts - the problem with focusing on not thinking about something meant you were thinking about it. She did her best, but she kept wondering how good a woman would have to feel to make the noises Luisa had made. She had no idea because she had no data, but her body was starting to demand an answer.

More than that, though, she wondered what it meant that Ethan had spoken to her so directly about such taboo topics. Almost certainly he was worried about whether she and his father were going to divorce, but a small part of her couldn't help fantasizing about what it might mean if he'd wanted the information for more... personal reasons. Now that would be dangerous.

And why the hell couldn't she tell him to stop asking inappropriate questions, or at least not answer the ones he asked? It was so strange! It had been a long time since she'd felt like she was in control of her son, but this was the first time she had really felt like her son was in control of her. Her pussy was moaning almost audibly at the thought.

She was still doing this at 3:12 AM, when she gave up on the idea of sleep and went out to the living room to play Flying Monkey Express until the sun came up.

*

Saturday was a strange day.

Harley slept late and spent most of the day at work, both at the liquor store and at another job he had accepted: custodian at a department store at a nearby mall that was had been on the verge of going out of business for years; that meant he was working evening and nights six days a week, six hours a shift. He was not happy.

Ethan and his mother started to work on his packets, but the tension and the distraction meant little was getting done. Brianna spent the whole time wondering if Ethan would have more questions she would have to answer in spite of herself, but he didn't seem to. As they were about to break for lunch, Ethan said, "Mom, how about you head to yoga for the afternoon? I'll stay here and work on this, I've got a pretty good handle on it."

Brianna felt an unsettling mix of gratitude and disappointment at the idea of being separated from her boy. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, go. Have fun."

"Thank you, Ethan." She got up and started toward her bedroom, but stopped when she reached the hallway and turned back to him. "Which outfit should I wear?"

Ethan of course recognized this as submissive behavior, but it didn't really ring any alarm bells. After all, he had always been the dominant one in their relationship, though never as blatantly as this. And he knew he ought not to say the one that made her ass and legs looked the best... but on the other hand, what would it hurt? "The pink one."

Her smile was huge. "OK!" she said, then turned and darted to her bedroom. A few minutes later he was watching those pink yoga pants sashay out the door. There. With her out of the house, he could concentrate a little better.

A little.

He was finishing up the packet for California Institute of Technology when she came back, and by then he was the one who needed a break. She made dinner while he vacuumed and then cleaned the guest bathroom. He congratulated himself on a surprisingly stress-free meal, as he thought to ask her about work and encouraged her to keep talking about it for as long as they ate - it seemed to him to be a neutral topic that would not incite feelings. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that his willingness to listen to her talk about her day-to-day life was a huge turn-on for a woman whose husband had never done any such thing, and she found herself thinking the most taboo thought yet about her son: I wish I was waking up next to him every day instead of Harley.

She passed the rest of the meal silently but viciously chastising her brain for going there.

She spent two hours playing Ethan's game in the living room, but she had missed all her sleep the night before and gone hard at yoga, so she was dog-tired. She still had thoughts, but she was tired enough to put them aside and let sleep take her early.

Ethan had gone to his room for the evening, texting his friends and playing a mindless HTML porn game that he had downloaded from a pirate website. Calling the game rock-stupid would be an insult to geology, but it allowed him to focus his erotic energies in a more appropriate direction than toward his mother - and in the event, that kind of clarity turned out to be exactly what he needed to clear his head and think straight.

He had been all turned inside-out at the prospect of fighting both his mom's emotions and his own, but he was making things harder on himself than they needed to be. The simple fact was that the prevalence of incest porn on the net had made such feelings a lot more common - common enough, in fact, that kids his age talked more-or-less openly about them in private with their friends. Jesse talked about lusting after his mom (nobody was shocked, since she was hot and he was a notorious pervert), and a surprisingly ruthless game of truth-or-dare at lunch had forced Cassie to admit that she had some very dirty fantasies about her 25-year-old brother, including one about him knocking her up. They weren't the sort of thoughts one shouted from the mountaintop, and he didn't know anyone who really wanted to make fantasy into reality, but they were common enough that there was no reason to beat himself up for having them. The main thing was to keep himself from acting on them, which he had no doubt he could do.

By not wasting energy battling his own desires, he could focus better on his mom. He'd have to do what he could to guide her through all this, which he knew would be difficult. Maybe if she had an affair she could blow off some of this energy? It wasn't like his dad had any claim on her fidelity. At the same time, though, he knew she would never go for that... not unless the one she was having an affair with was him. And that was absurd.

*

Brianna was in the kitchen bright and early, preparing breakfast for herself and Ethan on Sunday morning (Harley was sleeping late because of his night shift, and in preparation for working the same shift tonight). The heat wave had broken and they had the windows open in the house, both because it saved money on air conditioning and because it was wonderful to actually get fresh air blowing through after months of breathing through filters. A storm had rolled through in the early morning hours and everything smelled sweet and clean. She was horny, but she was happy.

Ethan came in from his run, this time fully clothed, with his shirt clinging wetly to him. They greeted each other, inquired how the other slept, and then he headed back to take a shower. "Scoot, you smell like a monkey house" was what she told him, but suddenly all she could think about was how he would look under that water, naked, lean, muscular, perfect...

Suddenly she was snapped out of her reverie by something cold and wet splashing on her front, and she looked down to realize that her inattention had caused her to slosh the orange juice she was getting out of the fridge all down her front. Muttering imprecations, she wiped up the spatters that had gone onto the floor and headed down the hall to change clothes.

And then she saw it: Ethan had left the bathroom door open a crack (it was a bad habit stretching back to early childhood that he had never broken). She could hear the sound of water from inside. The images of him hammered back into her skull with irresistible force, and suddenly her horniness had jumped off the gauge and this time it had taken her curiosity with it. A small part of her brain told her that this was wrong and wicked and a major breach of trust and crossed a line that she really, really needed to not cross, but lust makes you stupid, and she was very stupid at that moment. She went to the door, pushed it open a fraction wider, and waited almost breathlessly.

Ethan was in the shower when she arrived - the guest bath had a tub with an opaque shower curtain, so she could see nothing; she could hear the shower though, hear it hitting her son's bare flesh and spattering on the porcelain tub. She was again so aroused that she rubbed her thighs together, pressing them against the pussy that was throwing off as much steam as the shower was. She didn't know how long she watched; it must not have been more than a couple of minutes, but with her heart hammering and her whole body vibrating, it felt much longer. Finally she heard the shower turn off, and a few seconds later Ethan pulled back the curtain.

And there he was, body shining, every muscle perfect. Between his legs came the first adult penis she had ever seen, longer than she thought one should be when it was soft, thick, hanging above a pair of balls large and heavy with potent seed. They were clean of hair - did he shave? Would he like it if she did? She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp; she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Ethan was naked not five feet away, and every fiber of her body quivered to go inside and touch him...

But she didn't. Instead she stood stock-still and watched as he grabbed a towel and started vigorously drying his hair; his cock bobbled and bobbed as he moved, and she stared at it like it was a hypnotist's swinging watch. How would it look hard? How big would it get? And how would it feel in her hands, in her mouth, splitting her pussy wide open to make her his woman?

She watched as he dried the rest of his body, almost moaning as he got to his genitals. Did the towel on them feel good? Could he make himself hard that way? God, she might see him erect -

But she didn't. He kept drying himself and she kept staring. Finally, when he was done, he hung up his towel and she withdrew. She knew he would shave now and she would have loved to have seen him naked from behind, but the sink was so close to the door that if she pushed it open enough to get a clear view, it would smack him in the ass as he stood with his razor. Instead she hurried silently to her bedroom and changed clothes.

If there was validity to the dubious study that Lauren had cited, she had just joined the 30.4%.

After a breakfast where she covered the awkwardness she felt by chattering constantly like a ninny, she sat down at the patio table and texted Lauren.

I'm in trouble

I just peeped on Ethan when he stepped out of the shower and dried himself

Did he notice?

No

Good

I mean I don't think he did

He didn't look up and he didn't act like he saw anything

So lets assume he didnt

How do u feel now?

Sick

Dirty

Ashamed

So horny I want to go in there and beg him to fuck me until I can't walk

Dont do that unless ur willing 2 take the consequences

No chance of that

So what are u going 2 do instead?

I don't know

I'm lost

Remember what I said about not hating urself 4 this?

That was when it was just thoughts

Now I've actually done something

Yeah & the world is still spinning

U prolly arent even the only mom who peeked on her son in this city today, much less the world

So quit with the self recriminations & make up ur mind 2 do better

I know you're right but I think I need to let myself sit with the guilt today

Fine but 2morrow shake it off & forgive urself

You're right. Thanks

But that's not all

Something weird happened last night

Ethan quizzed me about my sex life

WTF

I know

He was very nosy and insistent

What did he ask exactly

If I was satisfied, if I was fooling around

I said I wasn't but

Look, I need your promise not to give me shit about this

He asked if I had my eye on someone and I said yes

Did he ask who?

No, he dropped it

What's ur gut feeling: does he know how u feel?

I don't know. I hope not but

But?

But I don't know how to be subtle so probably

Has he acted weird around u

HE QUIZZED ME ABOUT MY SEX LIFE

I concede the point

Does he seem uncomfortable around u?

Not really

So either he doesn't know or he knows and doesn't mind

What would it mean if he didn't mind?

I dunno

That he thinks it's no big deal, or that he thinks it is a big deal but doesn't want 2 embarrass u, or that he doesn't know what to do, or that he feels the same

Only he knows for sure

I thought you were supposed to have all the answers

Bitch, I'm not a mind reader

Then why do you act like you have all the answers?

Its part of my undefinable charm

Anyway g2g, the kids are screaming

Love you

Monday, September 16 - Sunday, September 22

Monday passed easily. Harley had an interview for a management position at a retail store; he'd never worked retail in his adult life but he thought it went well. Ethan went to Vincent's house for dinner and stayed to battle him on the PlayStation before being driven home to work on his homework, so he barely saw either of his parents. Brianna took the opportunity to go home and do uninterrupted yoga in the living room, as her three-week trial period at the studio had run out. She put a free internet lesson on her laptop and followed along, and if she didn't get as much out of it as she would have with an actual teacher in the room, she decided that it would be an acceptable substitute.

*

Tuesday, Brianna did her yoga while Ethan was out for his run. She didn't notice the avidity with which his eyes devoured her when he got home and saw her working on breakfast in her yoga pants. At lunch she had another text exchange with Lauren, who continued to tell her to be honest and accepting of herself so as to avoid future mistakes. There was nothing groundbreaking there, but she needed the reinforcement. She and Ethan made dinner together - chicken breasts with a sauce of onion and parsley, chickpeas, and wild rice.

Ethan had visited Sindee again; she thought his anal game needed work, so after the workout she patiently gave him lessons on how to forcefully take an ass without hurting the recipient (more than they wanted to be hurt, anyway, since pain was often a part of the enjoyment of getting buttfucked). After his homework he did another tutoring session with Becky, and again he was dissatisfied with her progress. There was some kind of mental block there, something preventing her from picking things up like she should have; he'd have to talk to her at school tomorrow to see how she was feeling.

*

Wednesday dawned with a raging thunderstorm that threatened to last all morning. Ethan, of course, knew better than to run in that kind of weather, so he did some exercises that his small room would allow - crunches, squats, and pushups, basically. He took his shower - very early for him, as normally he wouldn't even be back from his run by now - and went out to see how mom was coming with breakfast. Except that when he got there, his mom wasn't in the kitchen. He was about to go there himself when he saw movement in the living room, just a few feet away. He turned his head.

Of course Brianna knew that Ethan didn't go out running when there was thunder because it wasn't safe. If things had been normal, she wouldn't have forgotten the fact; however, things were pretty far from normal, and all she could think about when she woke from a restless night of erotic dreams about her own son was to clear her mind with yoga. She dressed, grabbed her mat and her laptop, and left her bedroom. Not wanting direct light in the living room, she flipped on a light in the kitchen so she'd have something to see by. Once she had everything laid out and was ready with her laptop on the floor next to her, she flipped it open and went to start it up, but then reconsidered. She just wanted to do something basic today, poses she already knew how to do and how long to hold. She started with Mountain Pose and went from there. Doing yoga while thunder rumbled and rain spattered on the windows was quite pleasant, and it really helped her focus.

Ethan didn't remember that his mom's three weeks at the studio were up, and he certainly didn't know she had started doing her yoga in the living room. His eyes fell on her as she stood on her toes and palms, her body making two planes that intersected with her ass poked high in the air. He simply froze where he was, his cock instantly tenting the front of his pants, his jaw just a little bit slack. That ass, that perfect ass wrapped up in skintight yellow cloth, was right on the other side of the sofa from him, less than six feet distant. He couldn't tear his eyes away, and even as he watched, she fluidly bent her knees and lowered her chest and face to the mat in the same position that both Luisa and Sindee took when they wanted to be controlled and dominated and fucked helplessly from behind.

Her transition from Downward Dog to Melting Heart had been fluid and comfortable, and as she lay with her face turned to the right and her chest on the ground, she felt her back settle pleasantly into place. She loved this pose - she always seemed to breathe better and deeper after she did it, and more than any other pose, it cleared her mind. She didn't buy into the woo around yoga, all the nonsense about chakras and energy flow, but she loved how she felt when she did it - that was enough. For almost a minute she simply stayed that way, butt proudly elevated, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of breath moving in and out of her body. She wasn't sure what made her open her eyes - perhaps the heard a noise - but when she did she saw her darkened laptop screen; in the screen, backlit by the kitchen light, she could see the reflection of her son staring at her... no, not at her. Directly at her ass.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. Why was he doing that? Did she rip a seam? Had she sat in something that left a stain? Uncertain of what to do, she stayed motionless... and then she saw him move his arm to his front and his body change position slightly. After a moment he pulled his hand away, and she realized what he had done: looking at her butt had given him an uncomfortable erection, and he had adjusted it in his pants.

Like the proverbial thunderclap, it hit her: he found her sexy too - he wanted her! Her heart almost came out of her mouth at the realization, and the surge of excitement through her body was matched only by the surge of dismay that fought it. The inner conflict made her dizzy, and she was very lucky she couldn't wobble, stumble, or fall right on the butt that was turning her son on. She just stayed in her pose and watched his reflection.

Ethan was transfixed. Her delectable ass was there, so close, and her pants were pulled tight enough that her pussy was prominently displayed, complete with cameltoe. All he could imagine was being on his knees behind her, hands on those meaty hips, pulling her back into him as he fucked her hard enough to make her howl in pleasure -

And then he shook his head, stepped silently back into the hallway, and emerged on the other side of it so that she would be out of his sight. "Hey mom, you around?" There was no immediate answer. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie, I'm... in the living room..."

"Oh. What are you doing?

"Just doing yoga. I thought you were out."

"Nope, not this morning. Want me to start breakfast?"

"Can you? Thanks."

Ethan made French toast (one of the handful of dishes he could make even before he went to his Uncle and Aunt's place) and tried to stop thinking about his mom in the breed-me position; he failed. Meanwhile Brianna simply sat, her mind slipping like car wheels on ice, until Ethan called her over to eat. Even when he asked if Vincent could come to dinner that evening, she just gave a mumbled assent and immediately forgot about it. From the scattered, absent-minded way she conversed, Ethan assumed that she was trying not to think about her attraction to him.

*

After second period, Ethan saw Becky coming the other way as he was heading to his next class. "Hey, can I talk to you for a couple of minutes?"

"Sure!" She seemed happy with the prospect. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering how you thought our sessions were going?"

"Oh, um, fine? I mean, they're useful."

"I'm asking because I feel like I'm doing a bad job and I want to help you more. Is there anything I can do different?"

"No, you're great, it's just..."

"Yes?"

"I just have a hard time learning remotely. I need to be in the same room as someone to really feel like I'm getting it."

"Isolation must have sucked for you."

"God, you have no idea. My grades tanked so hard, I had to spend vacations and summers taking makeup classes just to keep my transcript from being ruined."

"Maybe it would be better if we did it face-to-face then? We can go to the library."

"Why don't you come over to my place? My mom and stepdad won't get home until after six."

"I don't have a car."

She waved the objection away. "Don't worry about it, I don't mind driving."

"In that case, sure. I'll meet you at your locker after class tomorrow."

"Great, sounds good!"

As he headed for Mr. Valentinov's Calculus class, he couldn't help but grin. A year ago, he would not have picked up on the nonverbals, but now there was no doubt: Becky Hauptman, the most attractive girl in school (in his opinion) was interested in him, and not just as a tutor. It was enough to put a bounce in a guy's step.

*

"We need to talk."

"About what? Ethan?"

"YES! God, about Ethan! I don't know what to do!"

"Did something happen?"

"YES!"

"OK, calm down. Seriously, breathe slowly and count to twenty before you say anything more."

Brianna did as she was told, sitting in the driver's seat of her car in the library parking lot. Her mind had been a whirl all morning and she had been unable to focus her thoughts until she was in the middle of her 11:00 reading to the children; when that was done, she darted out to her vehicle so she could have a conversation without being heard. Lauren was kind enough to stop what she was doing and listen.

When twenty breaths had been breathed, Brianna said, "Ethan saw me doing my yoga this morning. I didn't know he was there until I saw his reflection. He was watching my butt and he... got an erection."

"OK, well, he's eighteen and you were wearing yoga pants. That would have an effect on most guys. What position were you in. Wow, really? And he was behind you? Well no wonder he got a boner, I would have too."

"This is serious, Lauren!"

"I know it's serious. Has he given you any other signs he was attracted to you?"

"No. Well... not that I noticed at the time."

"What does that mean?"

"When I started buying new clothes, I made him watch while I modeled them for him."

"And did he say or do anything that makes you think he was being anything more than a polite son?"

"I didn't think anything of it, but when I modeled my yoga outfits, he told me I should wear them all the time around the house."

"How did you not think anything of that? No, nevermind. Do you wear them?"

"Yes. Nobody ever cared what I wore before, it was nice to have a man's approval."

"Did he look at you before today when you were there wearing pants that leave you more naked than if you were naked?"

"No. Well... maybe a couple of times, but I..."

"Has he ever commented on it since?"

"He sometimes tells me to wear the pink outfit because he thinks that looks best on me."

"And when he tells you to wear the specific sexy outfit that he thinks is the sexiest, do you put it on?"

"Yes! God, I should have seen this weeks ago."

"I mean... yes, you should have, but you didn't. So let's deal with it now. What are you going to do about this?"

"I don't know! Should I do anything? Maybe it's just a phase he'll grow out of."

"Maybe, but the Oedipal phase is usually a lot earlier in a boy's development."

"I don't think he had one. He was always so independent, he never got clingy like that."

"I should have gotten a degree in psychology, not this useless Bachelor's in Business. I'm going to ask you a question and you have to give an honest answer. How does all this make you feel?"

"I don't know! Panicked!"

"Panicked-good or panicked-bad?"

"Panicked-bad! Or... fuck, I don't know. Panicked-good too."

"Normally eighteen-year-old boys are emotional basket cases, but he's not a normal eighteen-year-old boy. If what you say is true, he has a lot more emotional awareness and self-control than most boy do, right? Right now he's probably got his shit locked down tighter than you do, so just worry about yourself. Control what you do. Don't give him signals that you know he's into you, don't flirt, for God sake stop wearing yoga outfits around the house. Don't stare at him lustfully."

"I don't know how I'm going to do all that. The outfits yes, fine, but the rest... half the time I don't even realize I'm staring at him. And how do I not flirt? I don't even know when I am flirting, much less how to stop it. Is this... God, what if something happens?"

"I didn't know how to say this, but... well, I'll just say it. Something might happen in spite of best intentions. You're massively horny for each other, you live in a small space, and there's no way to avoid each other. Harley's never there. The longer you hold this shit in, the smaller the spark that it will take to set it off, and the bigger boom it'll make when it goes."

"So what I am I supposed to do? Help me!"

"I don't know. I'm just fumbling in the dark here like you are. Maybe you need to have an honest conversation with him about it."

"I could never," Brianna moaned. "I feel like my chest is caving in from shame just from thinking about it."

"Which would you rather have: an uncomfortable discussion, or a physical relationship with your son?"

"What if the first leads to the second? I mean, if we both want it and start talking about it when it's just us with nobody to stop us, who knows where it will wind up!"

"So have the discussion in a public place. Take him to a park where there's lots of people around, find a bench, and let it drop."

"I'm panicking more at the thought. I mean... what if he did something? What if he kissed me?"

"I don't know. What if he kissed you?"

Brianna didn't answer for several seconds, and when she did it was only to say, "I've never been kissed. Not really. Harley's kissed me a few times but those were like... like handshakes with lips. I don't even know what a real kiss feels like."

"It's awesome and I recommend you find out, but not with Ethan... unless that's what you want."

"WHAT? Lauren! How can you even say that?"

"Because you're giving me really weird signals here, like you really don't want it but you really want it. Is any part of you curious?"

"Lauren..."

"Don't 'Lauren' me. This is important. Is any part of you curious about what a romantic relationship with your son would be like?"

"Ugghh! Damn you. Of course I am! I can't stop thinking about, can't stop wondering. Last night I was up for two hours thinking about some scenes from books I've read and how they would feel if Ethan and I were in them. I've been thinking about what it would be like if he were the man I was coming home to instead of Harley. I think about it all day long."

Lauren was quiet for a moment, then said, "I think before you move to confront this issue, you had been take some time and think long and hard about where you want this to end up. I'm not a person who automatically thinks incest is wrong - "

"Don't say that word! I almost threw up from nerves when you said it just now."

"OK, I don't automatically think the I-word is wrong. If everyone involved is a consenting adult then it's just another kind of relationship that's none of my business."

"NOT. HELPING."

"Anyway, if you want it more than you don't want it, you probably won't be able to stop yourself from doing things to make it happen. If you both want it more than you don't want it, then it's going to happen. I'm not telling you this to scare you or encourage you or anything. I'm just telling you facts that you need to face."

"It sounds like you're telling me to give in and do it."

"I'm not telling you that at all, but the way you jumped to that conclusion makes me think that's what you want to do."

"I don't... except I do. Fuck! I'm so mixed up. I can't even think straight."

"I'd say love does that but you don't want to hear it."

"No I don't. No I fucking don't. Why would you even say that?"

"I don't know! I'm not an expert in this shit. I'm just trying to be the best friend I can be when you're going through a hard and very weird time."

Big sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself."

"I did advise you to be kind to yourself about this. It's not your fault you got hit by the lightning bolt, just like it's not Ethan's fault he threw it. It sounds like you threw one that nailed him pretty good too. Getting mad or disgusted or whatever at yourself will just cloud your mind and make it harder to think."

"OK. OK. I... OK, you're right. I need to be calm and ease off on the self-reproach."

"Good. Yoga and meditation are supposed to help with that, you know."

"They've both been making me think of him, and that was before he stared at my butt for ten minutes this morning. "

"So try different things. Baths, or aromatherapy, or... or something. Just try to get your head straight before you make any big decisions."

"Yeah. I guess I just need to figure some shit out. Hey, listen, I need to get back to work. Thanks for the talk."

"I'm always here for you, Saint Brianna."

*

When Olinka dropped him off from their college class, Ethan headed straight over to Sindee's place. His mind had dwelled all day on his mom doing yoga, so he was very horny and, therefore a little disappointed when Sindee elected to spend their time together teaching him foreplay techniques. "Don't pout," she told him. "When you can bring a girl to the brink of orgasm by running your fingertips along the underside of her forearm, you can pull all the pussy you want. Trust me, I've gotten straight, married girls into my bed this way."

Afterward he rushed home to start dinner - grilled burgers, grilled asparagus, grilled potatoes - and he was just putting the potatoes on to cook when Vincent showed up. Vincent had kindly brought dessert - a key lime pie made by his mother - and watched Ethan as he bustled about the kitchen. "You're gonna make some lucky guy a good wife someday."

"Someday my prince will come," Ethan nodded. "I've been telling you I love to cook."

"Is grilling really cooking?"

"It's technically cooking - the best kind of cooking."

"So when does your mom get home?"

"Twenty minutes or so." There was a warning tone in his voice, as this was the first time Vincent had seen his mom since her transformation.

"Hey, I'll be on my best behavior. I won't cop a feel or anything."

Ethan rolled his eyes. He knew Vincent's "best behavior" would not exclude enough staring to make things uncomfortable. Still, who knew - his mom had always liked Vincent, so maybe she'd just think it was funny.

"Hey, what do you think about rolling out that new character we talked about?" Vincent asked. "Game sales could use a boost."

"Bruh, we haven't even sold 500 copies," Ethan chided. "The game has already done what it's going to do. I'm not wasting more time on it."

"That kind of attitude is why we haven't sold more. You need to be pushing it, developing it. That's why we haven't even gotten a nibble on those review copies we sent out."

"What? When did that happen?"

"Olinka and I sent out like forty of them when the game launched. It only takes one big reviewer to try it and like it to get the ball rolling."

"But they didn't try it, or if they did, they didn't like it?"

"That's why we need you front and center, leading the charge. If we can generate some momentum, we can seriously all get rich off this."

"No, we can't. The game is fine, it's unexceptional, it's unpretentious. If we had a big ad budget, maybe - maybe - we could make something of it. But I don't have any money to buy ads, do you?"

"You have all that money from what we've sold already."

"All that money is less than fifteen hundred dollars, we couldn't ad-blitz a kindergarten with that. Besides, my dad is out of work. I might need to buy food for the family with that money."

"Look at you, so responsible."

"Somebody's got to take care of my mom if my dad doesn't."

"I would loooooooooove to take care of your mom."

"I'd love you to shut up about my mom."

"I guess neither of us are getting what we want. Anyway, did you do your paper on verb choice in The Cask of Amontillado?"

Half an hour later the two young men were sitting out on the deck, enjoying the lovely evening and watching the potatoes slowly cook, when Brianna stepped out the patio door. "Hi sweetie. And Vincent! It's about time you came over here. I was starting to think you didn't like us anymore."

Vincent beamed his best ass-kissing smile and said, "I could never get tired of you, Mrs. M. You're like my favorite person in the world. And wow, I have to say you look amazing. Congratulations on all the weight loss!"

Brianna was wearing one of her minimalist outfits today - a tight black blouse and a slate-gray knee-length skirt - and she'd pulled eyes all day, so she was not surprised to see Vincent trying and failing to keep his delight off of his face. Better him than Ethan. "Thank you, Vincent. How was your summer?"

"Good! Relaxing. I mean, except for all the time squashing bugs on FME and volunteering at the clothing bank and everything. It looks like you had a good summer. I love your hair!"

"Thanks!" she laughed. "I had my doubts at first but I've decided I really like it."

"Got any weight-loss secrets for me?"

"Eat less and move more?"

Vincent made a face. "I meant secrets! You know, eat an oak leaf every day and lose fifty pounds, not something that requires discipline and effort."

She laughed again. "Oh, nothing like that! I just ran a lot."

"You two," Vincent mock-frowned. "What's with all the running? Are you guys always being chased by lions or something?"

"Wolves, more like," she said dryly. "Anyway, I'm going to go change into some comfortable clothes, be right back."

Vincent had his eyes stapled to her backside as she went, and as soon as she was inside and out of earshot, he said, "Bruh."

"I know."

"That ass, bruh."

"Don't talk about my mom that way, bruh."

"Whatever. You can't tell me you're living with a woman like that and not spanking it to her,"

"This is a conversation we aren't having."

"That butt's just there like a fuckin' apple. You wanna take a bite right out of it."

"Let's just enjoy the silence."

A few minutes later Brianna had rejoined them in a flowing red paisley dress that covered pretty much everything, which still didn't stop Vincent from staring at her like she was a goddess and hitting her with compliments every few minutes. It also didn't stop him from taking more than a dozen selfies with her, much to Ethan's irritation. She didn't mind - she'd known Vincent since he was a kid and watched him grow, so his obvious crush on her was cute. And besides, it kept things from getting awkward between her and Ethan.

When all the food was ready they ate outside, with Vincent saying that these were some of the best burgers he'd ever had. They chatted for a little while, but homework beckoned and soon enough Vincent was leaving. No sooner had he walked out the door than Brianna turned to her son and said, "Sweetie, you know I love Vincent and he's welcome here any time, but I would appreciate it if you checked with me before giving him an invitation."

"But... I did. This morning at breakfast, I asked and you OK'd it."

She had no memory of this - her mind had been scrambled that morning and still was - but Ethan was never one to lie. "Oh... I forgot, sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

"Don't worry about it, you had a lot on your mind."

"I... did. Anyway, I'll clean up. You go do your schoolwork."

Ethan went back to his room to do his homework and contemplate his mom doing yoga. Brianna stayed in the kitchen to wonder what the hell she was going to do with this insane situation.

*

Thursday afternoon, Olinka dropped Ethan off at Becky's place, which turned out to be a pretty nice house in one of the upper-middle class pockets of the neighborhood. She met him at the door wearing a white tee shirt that left her toned arms almost completely bare and a pair of red running shorts; she looked like a high school boy's sex fantasy brought to life. "Hi!" she said with an enormous smile. "Come on in. I hope you like dogs."

He barely had time to answer that he did before there came a thunder from the hallway and a golden retriever flounced into the room, immediately went to Ethan, and shoved its head in his hand for pats. He gave the expected attention, saying, "Well aren't you a pretty puppy? What's your name, huh?"

"That's Flower, and now that you've petted her she won't leave you alone."

"Oh yeah, I know how goldens work. She's great. How old is she?"

"Five in a couple months. She's so spoiled. She's a good kid though."

"I bet she is! I bet she is!" he enthused, rubbing the sides of the dog's head energetically and making her ears flop. "Who's a good girl, huh? Who's a good girl?"

Flower looked at him adoringly.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah, an energy drink, if you have them."

"Is classic Red Bull OK?"

It was, and in a couple of minutes they were at the dining room table, where she had set up for today's study session. She had some kind of scent about her that was really distracting - a perfume probably, that was a combination of vanilla and... sandalwood, maybe? Anyway, it made her smell really sexy. They sat next to each other, with Becky turned slightly toward him in an open posture that his Aunt had told him indicated she was interested in him. That was fine, because he was interested in her too.

Flower spent the time either with her head on Ethan's leg being petted, or else poking his leg with her nose to alert him to the disturbing fact that she was not being petted at that exact second. Goldens were attention whores of the first order.

Right from the start it was apparent that the in-person teaching method did work better than remote for Becky. She picked up more readily on his explanations and the correlations he pointed out, and she became more enthusiastic about the subject as the session went on. She even seemed to be enjoying herself... though probably not because of the schoolwork. As the minutes passed she subtly leaned closer and closer until her arm was brushing his, then her shoulder. When she thought he wasn't watching her, she sometimes looked at his face rather than at the work.

Their time went quickly and soon their time was over. "Wow," she said as she closed her laptop. "That was a great session!"

"You really seemed to be picking it up quickly."

"I guess having you here really made it easier."

"I knew you had it in you all along," he said, giving her his best smile. "I'm just glad we figured out a way to tap into your passion."

"You're just a good teacher," she assured him, blushing prettily. "But there is one more thing I'd love your help with."

Ethan suppressed a smirk. "Oh? What's that?"

She picked up her phone, unlocked it, and handed it to him with the character selection panel of Flying Money Express on the screen. "I'm trying to beat Level 17 - Raccoon Railway - with Candy the Capuchin. The raccoons knock me out every time I come out of a tunnel. I've been stuck on it for two days and it's driving me crazy."

That was not what he's been expecting, and he laughed aloud. "Is this whole tutoring thing a scam to get me to help you with my game!"

She giggled. "No! I really do need your help, in the class and in the game, and... well, anyway, what do I do?"

"That's a hard level for Candy but you need to focus on dodging the garbage bags the big raccoons throw, and when you get to the tunnels, wait for a music cue to try to go through them."

"There's a music cue?" she asked. "Can you show me?"

"Sure, play up to the first tunnel."

That didn't take long, but he used the time to get behind her like he was looking over her shoulder; when she felt him against her, she leaned back almost imperceptibly. She sounded a little breathy when she said, "OK, here it comes."

"The music goes bum-bum-bum-BA-bum-bum. Go max speed on the BA."

She waited for the cue to come around again, and when it did she darted through the tunnel, exiting before the raccoons on the other side could aim their trash bag missiles. "I did it!"

"You sure did," he said warmly, putting his hands on her shoulders.

This broke her concentration and caused her to fly into a barrage of fish heads thrown by smaller raccoons, which cost her a life on the level. She didn't seem to mind too much, because for a moment she just sat there basking in her accomplishment and his touch. At last she said, "Well, my mom's going to be back soon, so I should probably get you back."

"Probably. I still have a paper on verb use in The Cask of Amontillado to do."

"Oh, for Mrs. Clyde's class? She assigned my hour to write on adjective and adverb use in The Telltale Heart. She sure does love her some Edgar Allan."

A few moments later, they were in the three-car garage, sliding into Becky's bright red Mazda 3. Ethan noted a Unikitty bumper sticker and grinned. "Oh, this is your whip. I've been wondering who drove this."

"Yeah, my stepdad gave it to me for my birthday in July."

"Nice! What does he do?"

"He's the owner of Whimbrel Press, they mostly publish self-help books and diet books, stuff like that."

"How about your mom?"

"She just got a promotion to Nurse Manager at Olney General."

"Good for her! I hope they won't mind you driving me into a dangerous area to get me home."

"'Dangerous area?'" she snorted. "What, do you live in the Collier?"

"Nah, it's just not nice like your area." He gave her the address.

"That's not dangerous!" she laughed. "One of my besties lives over there, like a block from you."

"Who?"

"Ursula Zimmer. Do you know her?"

He did. Ursula was another popular girl and a member of the basketball dance line, but she wasn't as nice as Becky was - she'd joined with other kids in mocking him a few times over the past few years, but he'd always had the impression that she just did it to fit in rather than from any actual malice. She'd certainly never been mean to him out of the blue, which put her ahead of most of the popular girls. "Oh yeah, I know her. I don't think I've ever had her in a class though."

"Of course not! You're in all AP classes. Ursula... well, she's a sweetheart, but she's not one for advanced placement. Actually if you wanted to do more tutoring, she could use help with just about everything."

"I don't know, maybe. You're the first person I've ever tutored."

"Really? Wow. And I suppose you must be busy with your game."

"Not anymore! That's done. I can have my life back."

She looked at him, slightly aghast. "But you have to keep working on it, it's amazing! I spend soooo much time on it! Can you at least make more levels or something?"

"Nobody's buying what's there, why should I make more?"

"I bought it," she reminded him. "It's so fun! It ought to be a huge hit."

"Let me check." He pulled out his phone, and a few minutes later said, "It's sold 492 copies in the whole world. It's just another indie game that nobody's paying any attention to."

"Huh. Well I'm paying attention and I think it's my favorite game ever."

Ethan thanked her for that, and conversation moved on to friends - it turned out that she was friends with a couple of the people he was friends with, although they weren't in his tight friend group - schoolwork, favorite color, favorite thing in the cafeteria, and more. He had never been on a proper first date, but the chit-chat felt an awful lot like how those were depicted in popular entertainment. More than that, she really seemed to like him and enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers; she laughed at his jokes, she told him several times how smart he was, and she professed astonishment (and poorly-concealed delight) that he wasn't with anyone yet.

"What about you, though?" he asked. "Are you still together with Rico Young?"

She snorted in derision. "Yeah, right." Pause. "You're not kidding. Didn't you hear?"

"All I know is that he left school late last year, and there was a rumor that he was expelled."

"I thought everyone knew! Yes, expelled, nearly arrested - should have been arrested - and definitely kicked to the curb by me."

"What the hell happened?"

"Rico always planned to get a football scholarship, but he started having problems maintaining academic eligibility. Rather than, you know, study, he decided to beat up Tucker Beck and make him do his work."

"What the - I never heard that!" Tucker was probably the smartest kid in school, but he was hindered by extreme shyness and awkwardness - he never initiated a conversation, never spoke at all unless necessary and then with a carefully-selected minimum of words, never had a friend, and was almost invisible. "That's messed up."

"What he didn't know was that Tucker started recording all the intimidation, all the beatings, documenting every bruise and every punch. The football coach knew it was going on but did nothing to stop it - he even joined in a couple of times. When Tucker had enough evidence, he told his lawyer mother, who told the police, who took it to the school. Some of what Rico did was just disgusting, I mean really vile. Tucker's mom threatened to blow it up into a huge scandal. The school talked her down, but Rico got expelled and had it all entered into his record, and the football coach got fired."

"Oh damn, the rumor was that Coach Monroe got fired for molesting a freshman girl."

"Nope. Well for all I knew the guy might have done that too, he was filth. But I never heard about it if he did."

"So you dropped Rico?"

"Like he was on fire. He was soooooooooooo offended that I wouldn't stand by him after I found out what a piece of garbage he was."

"Where is he now?"

"At the only place that would take him: William H. Hunt."

Ethan winced. William H. Hunt High School was the school of last resort for the city, the school that had to accept all the rejects no other school would touch. It was dangerous and run-down, and the only teachers who worked there were the kind who had proven themselves unworthy of a better gig. Every week there was a news story about someone getting stabbed or shot or beaten half to death there. Good luck getting a football scholarship at a big-name college coming out of there.

"That is messed up. I'm sorry he pulled you into that." Pause. "I guess it means you're single, though?"

"I guess it does." Pause. "Oh, that's where Ursula lives, the one with the green trim."

"Oh, cool. That's me up there on the next block, third from the end on the left."

Becky pulled into the empty driveway and put the car in park. "Well... thanks for the tutoring. Want to come over again on Tuesday?"

"Yeah. Definitely." He undid his safety belt, opened the door, paused, the turned to her and closed the door. "I'm going to kiss you. OK?"

Becky's eyes got big - clearly she hadn't expected that kind of boldness from the kid who was such a little squirt last year - but after a moment she gave a single jerky nod. They turned toward each other and he moved his hand until it was resting on the back of her neck. She shuddered as their lips met, and he could feel her practically melt against him. She was hesitant; he was not. He moved his lips on hers and soon she was responding, kissing back without touching him. Her breath tasted like Cinnamon Tic-Tacs. After some moments his lips parted and his tongue flicked across her closed mouth, but instantly she opened her lips and met his tongue with hers. It was a long first kiss, lingering and inquisitive, and when he finally leaned back away from her, she leaned forward to chase his lips for just a moment before leaning back and opening her eyes to whisper, "Wow."

"You're a good kisser," he told her, pulling his hand away from her neck and running his fingers over her cheek.

"You are too. I've never... wow."

"I'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Yeah. OK, right, yeah. School tomorrow."

He got out, and she watched him as he walked to the front door, opened it, and turned to wave. She waved back. He went inside. It was almost a minute before she put her car in reverse and pulled back onto the street.

He couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He had just kissed the best girl in school and she'd loved it. He'd loved it too, and not just because she was who she was. In the back of his mind was the thought that he wasn't going to get over his mom by obsessing about her, or by fucking Sindee. He needed a relationship, someone to focus on, and he had spent years crushing on Becky Hauptman.

At dinner, his mind kept going over one very particular track. As good as his kiss with Becky had been, every moment he and his mother were together he had to fight the realization that kissing her would be so very much better than kissing anyone else. Yes he wanted Becky, but she wasn't who he wanted the most. The woman he wanted the most was sharing spaghetti carbonara with him; the woman he wanted most slept across the hall.

Later, as Ethan tried to focus on his homework, Brianna sat curled on the sofa with Licorice asleep on her shoulder and her phone lying almost forgotten in her hand. She had tried to distract herself with Flying Monkey Express, but she couldn't concentrate. It seemed the harder she tried not to think of her son in a sexual way, the more sexual her thoughts about him crept into her mind and the more tenacious those thoughts became. It had been that way all day: she'd be doing something and then suddenly she'd realize that she'd been doing nothing because she'd been daydreaming of Ethan. Twice, Maryjo had found her gazing off into space and asked her what she was smiling about. It was almost impossible to close her eyes and not see Ethan stepping out of the shower or imagine him crushing her helplessly to him and doing... something wonderful, she didn't know what: kiss, yes, but more that she wasn't experienced enough to know she needed.

She had to knock this shit off. She knew she had to knock this shit off. But never in her entire life had she felt so completely alive as she had in the past couple of weeks, and especially since she'd looked at her son in the bathroom. The feeling was thrilling, it was delightful, it was addictive, and that was why she couldn't get herself to stop.

It was why she didn't want to stop.

She moved Licorice from her shoulder down to her lap. The cat opened its eyes and might have protested, but she began rubbing the side of her finger against his cheek and he immediately shut his eyes again. The lazy bastard had it easy - cats weren't smart enough to get caught on the horns of a dilemma.

Her mind drifted to what Ethan was doing in his bedroom down the hall - homework, sure, but was he thinking of her? He knew enough to understand what he wanted to do to her, so was he imagining doing those things? Touching her, using his mouth on her, making her use his mouth on him... now why was it so exciting to imagine him pushing her to her knees, forcing his big cock into her mouth, and making her service him? What would she even get out of that?

Damn it but she wanted to find out.

She'd never had sperm in her mouth, and the fact that she'd never wanted it there before didn't mean she didn't want it now. Lauren had told her about the texture, the flavor, how different guys tasted different; what would Ethan taste like? Lauren loved giving head (to men and to women), but it was so alien to Brianna's experience that she couldn't even make a reasonable comparison. Her friend had told her that making a lover come with her mouth was a thrill, that the act was submissive but powerful, that it was a gift to give someone you cared about that they would always appreciate. And here she was, 32 years old and never once had she had her mouth near a penis, much less around it. She'd missed so much, living with Harley. She knew it wasn't fair to blame him because he'd never pretended to be anything other than what he was and she'd always been content with that; she just wasn't content anymore.

Maybe Lauren was right. Maybe she did need to hook up with someone, some meaningless fling that could let her see what she'd been missing this whole time. It was still possible that once she tried it, it would be out of her system and she could go back to her life with her husband without disappointment. After all, she'd never been sexual before, why should she be sexual now?

But she could still hear Luisa's plaintive Si papi, your dirty little cumslut, please fuck me...

She was going crazy, and sitting here wasn't helping. She got up to make some valerian tea; Licorice followed and got a Meaty Bite for his trouble.

*

The next day was Friday. Brianna had awakened at 4:37 from erotic but incoherent dreams about Ethan. Rather than lie in bed feeling aroused and frustrated, she dressed, grabbed her yoga mat, and went out to the living room to get an early start on the day. She had just transitioned to Triangle when, at 5:15, Ethan emerged from his bedroom dressed for his run. He was plainly surprised to see her already into her session and he stopped to say hello. They chatted, and the way his eyes moved along her body gave her a thrill; Triangle Pose wasn't a really a sexy position, though, and she was more than a little tempted to transition into the Melting Heart Pose that had stopped him dead in his tracks before. She might even have given in but he left for his run before she could convince herself to give him a show.

It was good that he had left before she had give in to temptation... but she hadn't seen his face when he'd looked at her the other day, only a reflection that lacked detail. She wanted to see his eyes as she put her ass in the air so invitingly. She wanted to watch his lust. She wanted to see him get hard for her. The first lust of her life also lusted after her, and knowing that made her feel more like a woman, a real woman, than she had ever felt before. She didn't need him to touch her or say anything inappropriate, though she wanted those things very badly as well; she was starting to suspect that she needed him to want her though, to ache for her like she ached for him. If he didn't, how would this amazing feeling continue?

For the first time in her whole life, a man wanted to take her, possess her, make her his. It was like a drug, and she thought she might be on the edge of real addiction. And really, what would be so bad about that? Lauren was right - he was what she needed. She could never have him - she accepted that - but the need felt thrilling and dizzying. The pain of not having him was delicious because she had never experienced it before. Maybe he felt the same? Maybe he loved wanting her as much as she loved being wanted.

Temptation, that pull to cross the line that they must never cross - that was there for her; she knew it was there for him as well. It was dangerous to feed temptation. But they were both adults, both disciplined and logical (him beyond his age). They could enjoy looking without touching; they could enjoy being tempted without tasting what tempted them. Maybe this whole thing was a good situation after all.

And even if it wasn't - upon reflection, it almost certainly wasn't - she really didn't want it to stop.

She only realized after she had dressed for work that she had put on Ethan's favorite non-yoga-pants outfit: a tight slate gray midi-skirt with a tight black blouse, matched with black stockings. Her reflection looked happy.

By the time she into the kitchen, Ethan was already home and in the shower. She whipped up some French toast and bacon and had it on the plate when he came out to eat; she loved the way his eyes involuntarily devoured her and looked hungry for more. Much to her surprise, she was finding that it was fun to be naughty for once in her whole life.

*

There was a surprise waiting for Ethan at school that day. He'd barely gotten twenty feet inside the door when he was approached by a couple of guys he'd known for a few years but had never spoken more than a few words to. They were both members of the basketball team, and therefore very tall and strong and very much jocks to the core; he'd never had a problem with either of them, they just ran in different circles. "Hey, Mitchell!" one of them called. "Got a second?"

"Sure."

They both produced their phones, and the first one asked, "We're both stuck at the same place on this level. Can you tell us how to get past it?"

Ethan blinked in surprise. "You guys bought my game?"

"The whole team bought it," the second one nodded. "This thing is fire. It's what we talk about in group chats now."

"I... wow. Thanks for buying. Anyway, show me where you're stuck."

As he walked away a couple minutes later, Ethan pulled out his own phone and checked the sales numbers. They had finally edged up over 500 - 507, to be exact - but that was nothing to write home about. It was nice that people in his school were playing it, anyway; it gave him something to think about besides his mom riding his dick.

After first period, he got something else to think about: as usual, he passed Becky when she was at her locker. "Hey there. How are you?"

She looked up from her conversation with Ursula, and as soon as she saw him, she smiled and blushed adorably. "Hi, Ethan! How you doing?"

"Great, now," he said. "I had fun yesterday afternoon."

"Me too." her blush deepened.

"I like that shirt, it's cute."

"Thank you! I... um... thanks..."

Next to her, Ursula was eyeing them both suspiciously.

"I gotta run to class. Talk over the weekend?"

"Yeah!" Her enthusiasm was obvious. "Have fun!"

"You too."

As he turned away and headed for calc, he heard Ursula ask Becky, "OK, what the hell was that?"

As he walked to lunch a couple of hours later, a second-rank friend of his asked him if it was true that he was banging Becky Hauptman. The only thing faster than the speed of light was gossip.

*

Lunchtime at the library, and Brianna was in the break room with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the new romance novel about an older woman/younger man relationship that Maryjo and Charity said had some scorchingly hot sex scenes. While Brianna normally preferred literature, she enjoyed trashy novels as much as anyone else; so far this one was pretty well written, at least for housewife porn. The plot bore no resemblance to her situation: Lindsay, a wealthy and gorgeous female English writer (a wealthy writer - there was high fantasy for you) six months out from a nasty divorce meets Caden, a poor and gorgeous American astronomy student, who was described as tall and lithely muscular (like Ethan), brown-haired and brown-eyed (like Ethan), extremely intelligent (like Ethan), incisively funny (like Ethan), capable of giving a grown woman a look that weakens her knees and loosens her morals (like Ethan), and with an automatic dominance that makes women want to obey him (OMG Ethan). Brianna's son was this writer's sex fantasy, but that was OK - he was Brianna's sex fantasy too.

She had just reached the first steamy scene: Lindsay, fascinated by Caden and the romantic way he talked about stars, brings him a homecooked dinner as he works at the observatory in the night (obviously). They engage in light banter about food that becomes increasingly sexualized, he puts a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her heroically, and she winds up with her back against the wall and her panties around her ankles as he fingers her to a shattering orgasm. The fingering was described in exquisite detail, as were the effects on Lindsay. Brianna could barely take her eyes off the page; she had never been fingered before (the OB-GYN absolutely did not count). It was true that she had never masturbated, but now she couldn't stop wondering how it would feel.

Maybe tonight? Why not? Harley was working until two in the morning. She could, take a hot bath, drink some wine (they had a bottle at the back of the pantry that nobody would miss) and then...

And then orgasm. Those mythical things she'd always heard about. She could experience one for herself to see what all the fuss was about. It might not be as overwhelming as it would be if she were getting it at the hands of her son, but it was still something she couldn't imagine.

For the moment, she kept reading about Lindsay and Caden.

*

Ethan railed Sindee from behind. She was on her hands and knees on her bed, and he held her head back by a fistful of her long, blonde hair. She was coming for the third time that afternoon. They had begun by Ethan giving her head; she said she wanted to give him practice, but he figured she just liked how he went down on her. Now he had taken control and she was moaning his name as he rammed her hard enough to make the tight muscles of her ass bounce and wobble like jelly.

"Face, slut," he said, pulling out and ripping the condom off his cock. She whirled and took him into her mouth to bring him to the edge (he had trained her to know that he would rather be brought to a finish by a mouth than a hand). She sucked like a maelstrom for a little over thirty seconds before he pulled his dick back out. She leaned her face back, pretty eyes locked on his, a look of eager expectation as he began to shoot ropes of cum onto her, coating her before he finally leaned back onto his legs and chuckled. "Good girl."

Sindee beamed. As time had gone on he had learned to tap more and more into her submissive side. She was still his teacher - that was how he wanted the relationship - and he still listened when she told him that he could use practice on one or another aspect of foreplay or sex. At the same time, her yielding to him had become automatic when he decided he wanted to be in control.

She couldn't stop smiling as she drew her finger through the semen on her face, held it up to inspect and play with it a little, and then sucked her finger clean before going back for more. "I hate to say it," she told him when she had cleaned her face off reasonably well, "but I don't know if there's much more I can teach you. You were really good when we started, and you've, um, studied hard. You're already one of the best fucks I've ever had."

That was high praise coming someone who'd been fucked more often than she'd had hot dinners, but he still quirked an eyebrow and demanded, "'One of?' Excuse me?"

"Sorry, sir," she teased as she leaned in to suck a last droplet out of him. "There's always someone out there better than you at anything. It's the law of the universe."

"Maybe I just need more practice."

"I'll give you all that you want, but maybe it's time you broaden your horizons. You can only learn so much from one teacher, after all."

"I've got my eye on a couple. There's this amazing girl at high school who likes me as much as I like her - I kissed her yesterday."

"Just kissed?"

"Yeah, she's really sweet. I don't want to rush her faster than she's ready to go. But I don't think it will be too long."

"Good for you! It sounds like you'll be the one teaching there, though."

"Probably, but you never know."

"You don't have your eye on someone older? Someone more mature?"

"Well... there is one woman, in her early thirties. Nothing will ever happen there though."

"Why not? Is she happily married?"

"I don't think so, she's just someone my mom sees all the time." Technically true. "I don't want to mess anything up or make it hard for anyone."

"Feel free to tell me to shut up, but I feel bad for your mom. Did you know I tried to seduce your dad right after you guys moved here?"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I gotta be me. Anyway, he turned me down cold. I thought for a bit that he might like men instead, but I'm pretty sure he just doesn't like sex. A woman your mom's age should be catching dick from her man every time she bends over, especially with how hot she is now. But no, she's getting nothing."

"Yeah, I think that's true."

"Does she have a side guy?"

"Nope."

"Side girl?"

"You think my mom swings that way?"

"Hell yeah, I can always tell. She may not know it yet, but I'm sure she'd love it if she tried it. I'd make a play for her myself except that she hates my guts because I tried to fuck her husband. It's a shame though - get her a few good orgasms and she'd be a lot happier."

"You think so?"

"Not to be crude about it - "

"You, crude? Perish the thought."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "As I was saying, she's a field that needs to be plowed. Every woman is happier when she's getting it good and regular. Not getting it at all - yeah, of course she needs it. Anyone would."

"Huh."

"I bet you have some friends who'd be happy to do the job. She'd be a lot easier to live with if she had hot young guy feeding her the D."

He chuckled and stroked the side of her face. "You know, sometimes you talk like you're a high school boy yourself."

"I've got the libido of one. Speaking of which, you're hard again and my son won't be home for half an hour."

*

That evening, as Harley sat on the sofa watching SportCenter, Ethan stood at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables for the salad while Brianna worked at the stove on pork chops with a delicious low-fat gravy, a recipe that she learned from her mother over the summer. The kitchen was definitely too small for two adult humans to work side-by side, but Ethan insisted on helping her, so they were making it work.

It wasn't as though either would complain. They had worked together on so many meals now that it was becoming a ritual. It was enjoyable, working so closely with someone they loved, and they frequently bantered and teased and generally had a good time. More than that, though, there was a domesticity that Brianna adored - working side-by-side on daily tasks with a man she loved (more than she ought to) was nice. It was how she imagined her married life would be before she got married, only instead of her husband she was with her strong, smart, sexy, effortlessly erotic son.

"It smells good," Harley called from the living room during a commercial break.

"Thanks, hon," Brianna said. "Should be about fifteen minutes."

"So," Ethan said, "how was your day?"

I spent my afternoon daydreaming about getting fingerbanged by you in an observatory and imagining how it will feel to touch myself. "Oh fine. This wonderful little boy keeps bringing me flowers. I think he had a crush."

"He has good taste."

She blushed red as hell. "You shouldn't talk to your mother that way."

"Should I use an accent then?" In a Cockney bray he said, "Oi guv, the tin lid's got 'im some good taste, innit?"

"Tin lid?" she asked with a giggle.

"Ian taught me that. It means 'kid.'" Ian Dawson was a kid from London whose family moved to New Kent when he was 15. He went to Colfax High for a year, became friendly with Ethan's group, and taught them some Cockney rhyming slang; once his family got settled, they transferred him to a private school. "Anyway, is this the same kid who calls you The lady with the pretty hair?"

"That's him, always front and center at the 2:30 reading."

"I can certainly understand having a crush on you."

"I, uh... thanks..." She very carefully did not look at him in that moment for fear of what her face might reveal - the last thing she wanted him to know what that she felt the same as he did.

"So what else is going on at work?"

"Well, Maryjo's husband sent her this gorgeous bouquet of pink carnations and baby's breath, and the card just said, 'I love you.' No other reason. Charity and I were so jealous..."

She was still talking four minutes later when Ethan realized he had forgotten the cheese for the salad. He turned in the small space - and ran straight into his mother's back. Reflexively his hands went to steady her, landing on her hips... and staying there.

"Oh," she gasped softly, feeling his body against hers. Instantly every thought except how good it felt to be held by a strong, sexy man vanished right out of her mind.

"Sorry," he whispered, not moving.

"It's... fine..." Why wasn't he moving? Why did he still have his hands on her hips, below the waist, holding her firmly?

Ethan knew he should let her go, but he'd had the thought of touching her stuck in his head for weeks, and now that it had accidentally happened, he didn't want it to stop. She was so small against him, so warm...

When she first felt it, she didn't know what it was. Something was moving against her back, something hard, poking at her kidneys and - oh. Oh god. She needed to pull away, to end this... and instead she sighed involuntarily and leaned back against him so that she could feel his erection rise to full length against her body.

Of course Ethan knew that he absolutely should not be doing this - not at all, ever, and absolutely not when he dad was a dozen feet away and all he had to do was turn his head to see what was happening. But instead of letting his mother loose, he pulled her against his body a little more firmly and inhaled. After a moment, he whispered, "I love how your hair smells."

That was the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. She knew as well as he did that this had to stop, but she didn't pull away. His stiff cock against her was like a magnet - she had never felt the sensation of an erect penis pressing her close, and she was discovering that maybe, just maybe, it was the greatest thing she had ever felt. That urgent, fluttery sensation that she now knew was sexual arousal had her logical mind on hiatus, and she found that she was swaying in his grip, feeling his hardness move across her back.

With an effort of will, Ethan stepped back, and then an instant later took his hands away. Without another word, he moved to the fridge and grabbed the cheese. A few minutes later, when the salad was done, he excused himself to the bathroom; there, he sent a group text to his close friends seeing if anyone wanted to get out of the house tonight. Before he could get back to help bring the food back to the table, his phone dinged with a group text from Jesse:

4 2?

Yeah, he probably ought to vacate the premises this evening; his dad was going to be gone, and given what had just happened in the kitchen, he and his mother should not be together alone until they'd both cooled off. He texted back an affirmative, as did the other four in the group. When he came to the kitchen to take the bowl of green beans out of the microwave, he said, "Looks like I'm going to a movie with the gang tonight."

Brianna's relief was palpable. "OK, have fun."

"I don't think there's money in our budget for a trip to the theater," Harley said as he came to the table.

"I've got the cash," Ethan replied. "I've got money from the game and from tutoring, I can afford it."

"You should be saving that for your college," he dad frowned.

"Honey, it's just a movie," Brianna pointed out gently.

"Do you know how much movies cost now, and concessions? Between the ticket and popcorn and a soda, he won't get out for less than thirty bucks."

"I have fifteen hundred in the bank from the game and a few nights' tutoring money in my wallet, with more on the way. I can afford an occasional night out."

"You need to think about your future. Your mother and I might not be able to help support you at all."

"I need to think about the present too," Ethan replied, keeping the annoyance out of his voice. "I'm not going to sit around here like a monk all the time. I need to relax and be with my friends too."

"What you need is to be more mindful," his father scolded him. "You've had it easy up until now, but you're an adult. You need to understand the value of money and know how hard it is to come by sometimes."

"I get that," Ethan told him, his voice carrying a slight edge. "I haven't spent a dime of the game money up until now. I'm not going crazy with this, I just want a night away from the house."

"So go over to Vincent's and play games, you always like to do that."

"You're right when you say I'm an adult now, and that means I can go to a movie once in a while. I'm not asking you for money and I'm not asking you for a ride. I'm not asking you for anything."

"You're living under this roof, and - "

"Honey, can you please pass the beans?" Brianna interjected quietly.

Harley picked up the bowl and handed it to Ethan to pass. "You're living under this roof, and - "

"And the salt, please."

He handed the salt to Ethan. "And as long as you are, you need to - "

"And the pepper, if you don't mind."

Harley gave his wife an irritated look and saw her giving him the Honey, you're being an asshole stare. He picked up the pepper, put it into Ethan's hand, and turned to his meal.

"Thank you, honey," Brianna said cheerfully as she shook the pepper onto the rice on her plate. "Did you want me to pack you something for your shift?"

"I'll just take an apple," Harley said. The rest of the dinner was strained but quiet.

"Ethan," she asked, turning to her son, "are you going to be riding with Vincent?"

"No, Jesse's going to come pick me up. His dad is letting him use his Audi."

"Good. Vincent's car makes me nervous."

"Imagine I how I feel. I have to ride in it every day."

*

Brianna had been so horny as she did dishes and waited for the two men to leave that the gusset of her panties had clung to her vagina in the sexiest way. Before Ethan left, she asked him to text her to let her know that he had arrived at the theater; it wasn't that she was worried that he wouldn't get there OK, - she just wanted to make sure he wasn't turning around and coming back home to catch her masturbating to thoughts of him.

As soon as Harley left the house for his night shift, she found the bottle of white wine that they had bought three years ago as a gift to a dinner party that had been canceled at the last minute. It had been stuck on the top shelf of the pantry ever since, gathering dust and occasionally irritating her with its presence; now, she wanted it to help her relax. She looked at the bottle for a bit - St. Michael-Eppan Pinot Grigio, all the way from Italy; if she remembered rightly, it had cost about eighteen dollars. She didn't know a damned thing about wine except that it had alcohol in it, and as the only thing with alcohol in the whole house, it would have to do. She unwrapped the binding at the top, hoping they still had their corkscrew, but was confronted by a screw-top; she was vaguely disappointed, but she opened it and poured herself a generous measure in a wine glass that she had cleaned the dust off of especially for this occasion.

Her first taste of it was fruity, kind of lemony-limey, like flat 7-Up with a very slight burn. It was nice.

A few minutes later she was sliding into a luxurious bubble bath, the steam heat opening her pores as she drank more wine. This was wonderful - she rarely treated herself to a bubble bath, so being able to relax in the water felt like a mini-vacation. She also basically never drank, so the wine was going straight to her head. This was going to be a good evening.

God, Ethan hard against her back! She hadn't even known she could feel that horny! She'd spent the whole dinner with a red face and nipples so hard they ached. If Ethan hadn't stopped when he did... well, she wasn't sure what would have happened, but it wouldn't have been good (or it might have been very good indeed). Not that what did happen was good, of course, because it crossed all sorts of lines that they needed not to cross if they were going to keep things proper between them.

But the way he'd grabbed her, the way he hadn't pulled away when he started to get hard - and more importantly the way she hadn't pulled away, but had pressed back into him. The yearning in her reactions had been obvious; Ethan would have to be a fool to miss their import, and her son was no fool. So right now sitting in the theater he was probably confused and wondering what had gotten into her, wondering if what she had done meant that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Of course he would never believe such a thing, but how could he not wonder when she ground against him like a bitch in heat? He would think she was awful if he knew!

OK, so, she'd just have to act normal from now on. Be asexual. No hints of attraction, no grinding against him. She'd have to bottle it all up inside. She could do that, right? Right?

Of course she could.

She stayed in the bath for almost half an hour, refreshing with hot water when it started to cool down, drinking her glass dry and refilling it, and reveling in how good it felt to think about Ethan without guilt and how alive being horny made her feel. She got out, dried herself off, lovingly and lingeringly moisturized, and strolled into her bedroom, ready to find out what masturbation was like.

She laid down on her bed, pulled the covers over herself, and snuggled down, waiting for the sheets to match her body temperature. It didn't take long, and once she felt comfortable, she placed her hands on her stomach, caressing it in widening circles, feeling her skin and the sensations her own touch made. It felt good, this sensual touch, and it was something she had never experienced before from anyone or herself.

She moved her hand lower, up over her mons, feeling her coarse pubic hair against her fingers. She was completely natural there; she'd always shaved her legs and armpits, even when she knew she would never wear clothes that revealed them because her mother had drilled it into her that that's what ladies did, but she'd never taken a razor or a trimmer to her bush. She wondered if Ethan would like it this way? Over the past few years, Lauren had spoken to her of her relief that public hair was making a comeback so she didn't have to wax all the time, but she'd made it sound like hers was contained and short, trimmed down to a patch or something. Brianna's was wild as it grew, and Ethan probably wouldn't care for that. It wasn't like he'd ever see it, of course, but maybe she'd trim it anyway for her own self-esteem.

Lower then, to where her skin began to have folds, looking for her clit. She knew where her clit was, of course... well, in a general way, because she'd never gotten any use out of it. Was this it, this perky little patch of skin... wait, no, that was the clitoral hood. The clit itself was just a bundle of raw nerves poking out below, so it must be this thing here -

"WHOA!" She'd found her button and poked it and nearly jumped out of her skin. It wasn't a good feeling at all! It was way too intense and not really all that pleasurable, feeling more like someone had hooked a car battery up to her twat. She poked it again a little harder, had the same reaction, and backed off. It was supposed to feel great when touched, which meant that she was going about it all wrong. She decided to leave it alone for now; maybe afterward, when she was basking in the afterglow of her very first orgasm, she could look up on the internet how to touch a clit and give herself an even better second climax.

But that was for later. She could feel the wet heat pouring off of her vulva and the aching need to be filled, so she ran her fingers down a bit more until they came to her opening. God, she was dripping! She had no idea that a pussy could get this wet!

In her books she had read about cunnilingus, about how amazing it felt to get and about how gratifying it was to give. Would she like it if Ethan were there now, licking her, tasting her cyprine, using his tongue and his lips on her? Would he like how she tasted? Would she like it if she licked and tasted that hot young mom who brought her child to the library readings?

Carefully she dipped her forefinger inside, which felt nice. She was hot, tight, slippery, and she drew her hand away and raised it to her face. The fluid on it was almost clear with a whitish tinge. She brought it to her nose a smelled it. The scent was difficult to describe: musky, light and heavy at the same time, organic, a human smell - a feminine smell. It wasn't bad in any way, and she thought about tasting it before rejecting the idea outright; this was her first time masturbating, she didn't want to get too freaky. Maybe next time.

Back to her vulva, stroking the folds of flesh on the sides of her opening, which felt... good, she supposed, but not wonderful. Should it be feeling better? Was there something wrong with her? No... no, the stories she'd read had never talked about how good it feels to play with the labia minora. Inside was where the pleasure was found. Carefully, experimentally, she extended the middle finger of her right hand and dipped it inside of her body.

OK, that was something. It wasn't as though it was transcendent or anything, but then one finger inside of her wouldn't be. Would it? It was strange to feel it though, so warm and wet. She could feel her own tightness, which was something that guys were supposed to like, even though her hands were small and she only hand one slim finger inside her - it wouldn't even have been enough to stretch her much before she got pregnant with Ethan.

Was stretching supposed to feel good, like being stretched from the inside? She thought it was. If one finger couldn't do it, maybe two would feel better. Moving gingerly, she slipped her ring finger inside along with the other one and... oh yes, she could feel a bit of a stretch now. That was pleasant. She laid still for a long moment, waiting for the good feelings to start, but... "Oh, shit, I have to move them. Right."

So, a new adventure. She wiggled her fingers inside of her, which again seemed pleasant enough but no more. What was she doing wrong? Oh! Right, in-out was the motion. As much as she had looked forward to this moment, her nervousness was still making her forgetful and a little clumsy.

Slowly she started to pump herself, pulling back the covers and looking down the length of her body with amazement at the sight of her pussy slowly swallowing her fingers and then re-emerging wet and shining. And that did feel better! The sensations were very pleasant - no, more than pleasant: it felt really good. Was this was sex was supposed to feel like?

Both Lauren and her books said that slow was nice for working you up, but fast got the job done. She had been worked up all day, so now it was time to seal the deal. She started moving her hand more rapidly, and it did feel better. The most erotic thing, though, was the wet suction sound her cunt made when she frigged it, a deliciously sloppy noise that seemed to put the exclamation point on the whole thing. Her pussy had been silent since she'd given birth eighteen years ago but now it was talking, just like it should have been the whole time. She was one step closer to becoming a real woman.

So she laid there and fingered herself, fascinated by the sensations and the sight and the sound, for what felt like a good amount of time. The heat in her vagina built and built and she felt warm and tingly all over, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was that there was a sense of urgency that she had never felt before; it started small, deep inside, but it grew with every fierce pump of her fingers until it suffused her entire body. It was bright and demanding and marvelous, as though it was the physical manifestation of all her longing and lust and all the orgasms that had been deferred until now. It kept building and building until she was sure her body couldn't contain it all, until she was sure it would finally burst in that climax that she had always needed -

But it didn't. It stopped building short of where she needed it to be. It still felt wonderful, but there was no summit, no release. She went harder and that felt good for a time, but her wrist started to get sore and her pussy began feeling uncomfortable and the amazing sensations started to abate. She wasn't going to come. With a moan of pure frustration, she stopped what she was doing and, after ten minutes or so of feeling sorry for herself, went to take a shower.

Later, as she was sitting in the living room battling a deep sense of dissatisfaction and a libido that had only increased due to her failure to achieve orgasm, Brianna received a text from Ethan explaining that he and his friends would be out late tonight (he was over 18 and didn't need to ask permission anymore). She was glad to hear it, because feeling like she did now, she was afraid of what might happen if she saw him before her urgent horniness subsided.

*

Saturday return of summer's heat and humidity, and the air conditioning went on for the day. It was an expense they could ill afford, but they weren't yet in such desperate straits that they couldn't manage it. Both son and mother were content to avoid each other to prevent a repetition of events, so Ethan stayed in his room working on college admissions and Brianna went shopping - window shopping, but it still counted.

Ethan noticed that she was not wearing a yoga outfit around the house as he was accustomed to seeing. It was disappointing, but he understood trying to limit temptation. Besides, no clothes she owned could effectively conceal that amazing ass of hers.

He had a simple dinner ready when she got back, and they ate together in near-silence. Afterward, Ethan scuttled off to his computer to finish his homework, chat with his friends and with Becky, and play some games, while Brianna washed up the dishes and went to the living room to read a book with absolutely no sex in it; soon enough, though, she had set it aside and was playing Flying Monkey Express and reveling in its addictiveness as Licorice slept in a little ball on the top of her head.

*

The summer weather continued on Sunday, and Ethan came back into the house dripping with sweat after his run. He didn't take his shirt off in front of his mother (he needed to be careful about that now) but instead hurried back to clean up. He got clean clothes from his room, went to the bathroom, turned on the shower to let it warm up -

And it didn't warm up. At all. With a sigh, he pulled his dirty clothes back on and went out to check the pilot light in the water heater. When he got there, though, he found a rapidly-spreading puddle of water threatening to consume the laundry room. He turned off the flow at the valve and started to inspect it as best he could, quickly discovering that a hole had rusted in the inflow pipe; furthermore, there were several other spots on the inflow and the outflow pipes that looked to be ready to give way as well.

Half an hour later, after a very cold shower and after Harley had joined Ethan and Brianna at the table, Ethan made the pronouncement: "Our water heater is absolutely shot. We need a new one."

"It's cheaper to fix it," Harley said.

"The whole thing is a pile of rust," Ethan said. "Go look at it yourself. If we fix this leak there will be another in a day or a week or a month."

"It was one of the first things we put in when we started fixing this place up," Brianna observed. "That was fourteen years ago. How long do water heaters last?"

Ethan had already investigated that. "Eight to twelve years for a gas heater."

"We got good use out of it," Brianna said. "How much for a new one?"

Ethan had already looked at that too. "For our needs, we're looking at around a thousand dollars."

Brianna winced, and Harley shook his head sharply. "We can't afford that now. There have to be cheaper options."

"We can get an electric heater for a lot less, but they're more expensive to operate so we'd end up paying more every month. Plus one that would let us run a couple showers at the same time would be even more expensive. And we'd lose hot water every time we lost power." Ethan didn't need to finish that thought - New Kent was subject to powerful storms almost the whole year 'round, and power outages were commonplace and could last for days at a time.

"What about a used one?" Harley suggested.

"They're a lot cheaper," Ethan said, "but you get what you pay for. According to what I've been reading, nobody replaces a water heater as long as it works. If you buy used, you're buying someone else's problem."

"We don't have a thousand dollars, so we can't go the new gas route," Harley said. "We can maybe afford a new electric one."

"I have the money," Ethan said immediately. "I can buy it."

"No way," his father replied firmly. "Keeping this house running is our responsibility, not yours. I'm not having you spend your college money on that."

"I appreciate the thought," Ethan said, "but I'm not sticking you guys with a monthly bill you can't afford when I can just get us what we ought to have."

"That money is for your college," Harley repeated. "You don't get to spend it on frivolities."

"Hot water is a necessity, not a frivolity," Ethan told him. "And I'm an adult, I can spend my money however I want. If I want to spend it making the place I live better and my family happier, I can do that."

Brianna opened her mouth to interject, but Harley cut her off. "This is your home, but it's our house - your mother's and mine. You don't get to buy things for it without our permission, and we are not giving you permission to spend your money on it."

"I'm going to be living here for almost another whole year," Ethan pointed out. "I'm not a kid, I'm a grown man, and I have a responsibility to you and to mom and to this place to help keep things running as well as I can. I'm not going to duck on that responsibility just so I can have a little more pocket money next year. I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror."

"You're my child!" Harley thundered as he pounded his fist on the table. "You will do as I say and you will not argue!"

Brianna gaped. Harley had gone in an instant from talking rationally if forcefully, to shouting with a red face and punching furniture. She had to step in. "Honey, can I -"

"I'm eighteen!" Ethan said, not quite shouting but definitely loudly. "I get to decide where my money goes and why. You guys aren't putting me through college, I'll be getting a full scholarship. If I want to buy something - "

"NO!" Harley yelled, half-rising from his chair and jabbing a finger in Ethan's direction. "I forbid you to talk about this anymore, understand? This conversation is over!"

"HONEY," Brianna said before Ethan could reply.

"WHAT?" Harley shouted, turning to look at her with blazing eyes.

"Can I speak to you in private?"

"What for?"

"Honey, now."

Harley looked for a moment like he might scream at her, but after a moment he simply whirled - sending his chair clattering to the floor on its side - and stomped down the hall to their bedroom. Brianna gave Ethan an apologetic look and hurried after.

Ethan waited until their door was closed, and then texted Jesse, who had access to a big fucking SUV.

In the bedroom, no sooner had Brianna closed the door behind her than Harley rounded on her. "You need to talk to your son!"

"My son?" Brianna said calmly. "You mean our son."

"You need to tell him that this kind of shit will not fly around here. We take care of him, not the other way around."

"I understand what you're saying," she said carefully, "but I think you're too worked up about it."

"Worked up? You fucking bet I'm worked up! Who does he think he is, anyway?"

What the hell? "I... think he thinks he's our son and he wants to help his parents, whom he loves."

"Just because he has a couple thousand bucks in his pocket and I don't, he thinks he's the man of the house! That shit will not fly around here!"

"Honey, he's a grown man. He wants to help because he can. That's all."

"I've worked hard to support this family. I may be out of work at the moment, but I'm still the man of this house!"

It occurred to Brianna that Ethan had been doing all the yard work for years, and was now doing housework, cooking, generally supporting her, and even offering to pay for household appliances, while Harley was working minimum-wage jobs and holding down the sofa, so it sure sounded like Ethan was the man of the house. She didn't say that, though, and indeed she was ashamed of the thought; instead, she calmly said, "Ethan knows that and so do I. You don't need to shout it."

"I think I need to shout it loud enough for him to hear it! I'm a thirty-five-year-old man! I am in my prime! I am not going to have my teenage son take care of me like I'm some eighty-year-old who can't control his bowels! I'm a man, damn it!"

"I know, honey, So does he. He just doesn't want to take cold showers and he doesn't want us to have an electrical bill we can't afford to pay. He's just trying to help."

"We help him, he doesn't help us."

She understood where her husband was coming from. She also understood that he was being a stubborn fool. "How about this: we know you're going to get a good job soon, so when we have the money we'll pay him back for the water heater. That way he gets to help but he gets to keep his money. Everyone's happy."

Harley didn't like that, and they went around the circle a few more times because of it, but in the end she managed to talk him down and she went out to tell Ethan about the agreement. By that time Ethan had already bought the water heater from a local appliance store and arranged for Jesse's help in bringing it home and getting rid of the old one, but he elected to maintain the peace by not telling his mom that. By mid-afternoon, the old water heater was in the dump and the new water heater was busily heating water.

Monday, September 23 - Tuesday, September 24

Brianna had planned to start the day running through Sun Salutation, but when she got up the rain was hammering the windows, thunder was shaking the house, and it was dark as night outside. Well, if the sun wasn't around you couldn't very well offer it salutations, so she decided to just do asanas instead. Fuck you, sun - you snooze you lose, miasma of incandescent plasma. Turning on lights in the living room and laying out her mat, she began simply: Mountain Pose - after what she'd been obsessively thinking over the past while, she needed something that would let her clear her mind.

Ethan was doing crunches in his bedroom when he heard his mom come out of her room to start her morning yoga. He tried to focus on what he was doing, but his mind wouldn't behave, not when the woman he lusted after was in the next room doing stretches in extremely revealing clothing. Don't think about her, he told himself over and over, but a few minutes later he realized he was thinking of nothing else. He lay on his back on the floor, fighting his desires, his compulsions. He knew he shouldn't, but only a few minutes later he was standing and heading out of his room.

She heard him behind her just as she entered Standing Forward Bend. She didn't stop: feet close together, legs straight, she bent at the waist and went as far down as she could manage. She couldn't jackknife herself double like the more experienced practitioners could, but she got a lot closer than she did the first day she tried it. And here she was, pointing her ass straight at her son while wearing a form-fitting outfit that acted more like body paint than clothes. She felt his stare, and she felt her pulse quicken and her stomach flutter.

He didn't say a word, not at first. He simply looked, and when she glanced at him from her inverted position, he smiled and nodded. She smiled back, holding the position for as long as she could (which honestly wasn't all that long) and then leaned forward, her hands going to the mat, her feet going back, and her body making the inverted V of Downward Dog. Once she was settled in, she said, "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied. "I hope you don't mind if I watch."

He didn't make it sound like a question, and his tone thrilled her more than it should have. He wasn't asking if he could watch her put her ass up in the air for his viewing pleasure, he was telling her that that's what he was going to do. If going from Standing Forward Bend to Downward Dog wasn't already making the blood rush to her head, knowing that her son's eyes were devouring her while he thought of filthy things to do to her would have done the trick. This asana was a bitch - although some people at the studio had been able to hold it for minutes on end, her own personal best was maybe forty seconds. It was hard to maintain even when she was focused on it; she was not focused now, and soon she transitioned into Ethan's favorite, Melting Heart: knees to the mat, legs spread, chest down, ass up. I wish I knew what he was thinking of doing to me right now.

Ethan's mind was treading some strange pathways, to be sure - her display of flexibility had him picturing all kinds of things. He knew that what she was doing was a legit yoga pose, but it was also a legit sex position. Hell, he'd taken Sindee in that exact pose on Saturday. It was submissive and eager and ready-to-be-bred all at the same time, and it was impossible for him to see it and not want to fuck the one doing it. But still he said nothing, simply looked, and after almost two minutes he noticed that a thin maroon line of arousal was forming on the red crotch of her yoga pants, right over the puffy spot that was her pussy. Jesus.

Finally he shook himself away and said, "I'm going to get the omelets going. Want anything special on yours?"

"Ummm... heavy on the green peppers, please."

When she went to shower and took off her yoga pants, the smell of her own arousal was thick and potent, and she watched with a combination of thrilled amazement and sickened dismay to see long, viscous strands of her juices cling to her panties as she pulled them off.

*

Lunchtime. Ethan wasn't hungry. He had apologized to his friends, saying that he had a lot on his mind and needed to think, and then he sat over in the one corner where nobody ever sat for some reason. He did indeed have a lot on his mind.

With Luisa, he had always been in control. With Sindee, he had always been in control (except for the times when she had wanted to teach him something specific, but even then it was always his decision to learn what she wanted him to learn or just to fuck her stupid). With Becky, he was in control and, he was sure, his control would deepen and strengthen as the relationship continued.

With his mom, though, he was not in control. She wasn't either, and her naturally submissive ways would mean she never would be no matter what happened. But with the other three girls he'd had or likely would have soon, he had always been in control of what happened because he had always been in control of himself. Whatever was going on between him and his mom, it was running the show and not him. He had scolded himself to behave, and he'd wound up grinding his dick against her; he'd had a long talk with himself about keeping the feelings leashed, and he'd wound up staring at her ass and pussy in yoga pants for ten minutes while she preened for him. For as far back as he could remember, he had always been in control of himself, even if he was in control of nothing else; for the first time in his life something other than his will was driving, and the feeling frightened him.

One thing was certain: he couldn't count on his mother to be a brake. She wouldn't initiate anything with him, but she would eagerly welcome whatever he started and ask for more, without thinking of the consequences until it was too late. If it were just the two of them in the family and she had a job that paid all the bills, then maybe - maybe - he'd make a move and see where it took him. But his dad was in the picture, a man he respected for being his father if for little else these days, and his mother depended on his father's income (when there was any) to keep the house and keep it running. Doing things with her was throwing a grenade in the middle of that (even without the risks it posed to the parent-child relationship) which was terrible and irresponsible and destructive for all three of them.

So was looking at her the way he'd done that morning tempting fate? He wasn't sure about that; after all, he'd thought about fucking her in every position under the sun and he hadn't actually done anything - he hadn't even had to fight himself to keep himself from touching her. She loved him looking at her (he thought she was probably still dripping wet about it) and the way she'd put herself on display for him meant that she didn't have a problem doing it. So, she would probably do it again, and he would look again.

One thing they had to avoid was the kind of contact they'd had in the kitchen. Feeling her against him that way had brought him right up to the edge of losing control, and it was only his father being one turned head from seeing them that had stopped him from full-on groping his mom. If his dad hadn't been there, who knew what they would have wound up doing? So, no more of that. Look, don't touch; it was still fucked up, but it was doable until they both grew out of this infatuation.

On an impulse, he sent her a Snap of himself staring boldly into the camera with the text, How's my favorite mom doing? She didn't send anything back immediately, but just as he was climbing into Olinka's car for the trip to the college, his alert went off. She had sent him back a snap of her looking looking far more aroused than she probably realized with the text, Doin' great! I hope the best son I ever had can say the same.

*

The next day, Tuesday, was a weird day for Brianna. She was so obsessed with thinking about Ethan that she kept making mistakes on routine things at work, and she finally had to go to the bathroom for fifteen minutes to get herself together - it didn't actually help, and not being distracted by work or patrons just meant she could focus harder on the filthy fantasies of her son fucking her in the living room that had been rampaging through her mind since the morning before.

Last evening after she had gotten home, she'd thought about putting on a floppy bohemian dress; instead, though fully cognizant of the dangers, she put on the pink yoga outfit that Ethan liked so much and went to prepare dinner. He'd done half the work, as he always did now, and he'd looked at her appreciatively as she posed for him. He hadn't touched her again, though, no matter how much she wanted to feel his arms around her and how dramatically she pushed her ass out like she was in heat; yes, Harley had been in the living room watching SportCenter, but that hadn't stopped Ethan the last time. Her frustration had only grown when he didn't take the bait.

This morning there had been no repeat of him staring at her as she did her yoga, because it was sunny and cool and he'd out running. There had been no misbehavior at breakfast either, because Harley had an interview that morning and was up and drinking coffee at the table while the food was prepared. None of that had decreased her horniness, however, and she had done some dumb things at work today because of that: forgotten to shelve the new arrivals, read the same page over again (two separate times) to the kids, and forgotten to check out one of a patron's stack of DVDs so the alarm went off when she tried to exit. She needed to settle down, she was acting like a lovesick teenager.

The thing was, it was only going to get worse. Harley was not going to be home this afternoon when they made dinner and temptation would run rife - and then after that, she and Ethan had to drive to his school for parent-student-teacher conferences. She was going to be with her sexy son, the man she wanted to pin her down and make her into a real woman - his woman - and they would be that way for hours. In the car to and from it wouldn't be so critical because what could happen in a moving car, but she was going to spend an hour-and-a-half or more walking around his school with him only a foot or two away, meeting with teachers and other parents; she couldn't be there with rock-hard nipples, rubbing her thighs together, staring at her boy like a smitten kitten. She had to behave herself.

She just didn't know whether she could do that. She was horny for him every second of every day now, and she had no idea how to just turn that off. Most people experience their first sexual infatuation in high school, but the arousal, the excitement, the thrill - it was all new to her, and she had no experience in dealing with it. Instead, it was dealing with her.

"OK bitch, get your shit together," she muttered at her reflection. "You are a grown woman. You are in command of your libido and your focus. You shouldn't even be thinking about this stuff anyway, it's insane. So exert a measure of self-control and stop being a horny kid."

That pep talk behind her, she went out, misread three lines in her next story reading, found that she had been standing still in an aisle for five minutes just daydreaming, and somehow lost her bagged lunch.

*

Ethan and Becky had sailed through the chem homework and were now sitting on the sofa chatting; Flower had joined them and was sitting with her head on Ethan's thigh, gazing worshipfully up at him as he petted her. They had talked a lot over the weekend in the meandering, oblique way that many teenagers have, but they did establish their mutual attraction. Both felt that they could be spending this time more constructively if they were making out with each other, but her parents were due home any minute to pick her up for dinner at her aunt's, and they would drop him off at his house on the way. Therefore, instead of having his tongue in her mouth and his hand up her shirt, they maintained a very proper distance.

"So," he said as they settled in, "level with me. You didn't really need help with chem, did you?"

She grinned conspiratorially but managed to look shocked. "Of course I did, you've helped me a ton."

"So you weren't just saying all that to get me over here?"

"No, I really do need help with it. Buuuut I may not have needed to end the online tutoring and have you come over here in person."

"You wanted to get me alone to... what, see if we had chemistry?" She laughed, and he added, "The relationship kind, not the kind you learn about in a lab."

"Yes, and to see if you'd make a move. I'm really glad you did, but I didn't expect it to be the first time we were alone in a car together!"

"I could see you needed kissing."

"Well... I did. And I still do."

"Too bad your folks will be walking through the door at any second."

"Yeah, too bad. And don't worry about meeting them, they're chill."

"Do they know that I'm not just your friend?"

She blushed. "Well... I've been talking about you a lot. Like a lot a lot, especially this last weekend. Last night my mom asked me if I liked you, and..."

He nodded. The Ethan of six months ago would have been nervous, but the Ethan of today felt no qualms. "I can handle them. Do they know about the kiss?"

"My mom does, yes. And about that... I hope you don't mind - I really hope you don't mind - but want to take things kind of slow for a bit until we know we really click together. I've rushed into things in the past and it hasn't worked out, and I, well..."

"You want this to work out."

Her blush deepened and she gave a nervous little smile. "Yeah. You're a good guy. I need a good guy in my life."

"That's fine," he said. "I can wait. But I have a condition of my own to add. I'm not ready for anything exclusive."

She arched an eyebrow but didn't immediately object. "OK, tell me more."

"I don't mean I'm going to be slutting around with everyone. I will never get with your friends or your enemies, and I'm going to try to keep it out of school. I'm not looking for other relationships. But if there's a good opportunity for a hookup, I won't swerve to get out of its way - and I don't expect you to, either. Eighteen is a time to rack up experiences - I want that for me, and I want that for you too. Go out and have fun when we're not together, I won't be jealous."

"That's fair. I mean I'm not ready for a commitment either, so close-casual makes sense. It just might be really hard seeing you with someone else."

"Like I said, I'm going to try to keep it out of school completely, out of your eyesight. I'd appreciate it if you kept things discreet too."

"I can do that. It's not like I want to get married before Prom or anything. I've got college and getting myself set up and living a little before I even think about that. And I can't say I'd object to being able to get freaky with someone else in the right situation. And... well, there's someone else I'm kind of crushing on too. I guess that makes me a slut."

"No, it makes you a normal high school senior. Is it anyone I know? You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

She blushed again and looked down. "You do know her."

"Her? Good for you!"

"Yes, her. God, you just want to watch me with another girl."

"Untrue. I also want to join in." She rolled her eyes so hard he heard cracking sounds. "But seriously, I'm curious about guys too. It's something I want to try before we graduate."

Her eyes got enormous. "Are you shitting me? That's so hot!"

"God, you just want to watch me with another guy."

"Damn right I do!" she laughed. "I've always wanted to see that in real life. And honestly, I don't think I could be jealous if you got with another guy."

"And I won't be jealous if you get with another girl, or another guy. I want you to put notches on your headboard."

"I don't want to ruin my reputation, though. Everybody thinks I'm such a good girl."

"And you aren't?" He already knew the answer. Uncle Jim had explained to him that everyone who wasn't asexual had a horny slut inside them. Some people knew it and some people were surprised when a partner brought it out of them, but there were no such things as good girls or good boys when it came to sex. Becky seemed already to have realized that on her own.

"Nooo... well, not all the time. I can get pretty wild, just so you know."

He looked her straight in the eyes and said, "I can handle you."

She shivered and blushed, but didn't look away. "I hope so. I love it when my partner takes control."

"I love it when I take control too."

She giggled, but she didn't have time to answer before the door to the garage opened and they heard a woman's voice calling, "Becky? We're home."

Moments later the four of them were standing in the living room talking. Becky's mom was a well-put-together, pretty woman in her mid-40s (and named Jenny, as approximately 87% of women in her age cohort were), while her stepdad, Bart, was ten years older and starting to slide a bit, even though he was still in pretty good shape. Ethan displayed no nervousness, maintained eye contact, and conversed like an adult.

"It's good to meet you," Jenny said; she seemed the more ebullient of the pair. "All Becky's been talking about since school began is 'Ethan this' and 'Ethan that'!"

"Moooooom!"

"And she's been playing Flying Monkey Express nonstop," Jenny went on as though her daughter had not just complained. "She's been telling me how good it is, so finally this weekend I tried it and I am hooked! Even Bart liked it!"

"I'm not usually one for games," Bart nodded, "but yours is great fun. It must be very successful."

"I wish!" Ethan laughed. He didn't want to bore these nice people with an explanation of the financial landscape for casual indie games, so he just said, "It's a crowded field out there and nobody's even paying attention to it. Although there was a cluster of twenty-two sales today in Croatia, of all places. That took our total sales up over five-fifty."

"That's all?" Jenny gasped, half amazed and half appalled. "You should be making Angry Birds money! I like your game better than that one!"

He shrugged. "It was just a little passion project of mine, with some assistance from a couple of friends. We didn't have money for marketing or merch or anything like that, so it started obscure and stayed obscure. That's fine though, I just did it for the experience."

"You must have had higher hopes?" Jenny asked.

"Well sure, but if you could spend hope then we'd all live in gold houses. I wanted it to be big but I wasn't surprised or disappointed when it didn't blow up."

"That's admirable," Bart told him with an approving look on his face. "For a young person like you to do something so good and not be crushed when it doesn't get the attention it deserves, it speaks well of you as a person. Level-headed."

Ethan smiled modestly. "Thank you, sir."

"'Sir?' What am I, your drill sergeant? Even my employees don't call me that."

"Alright, Mr. Hauptman it is, then."

"Better." Ethan was pretty sure he'd be calling him Bart in a couple of weeks.

The Hauptmans asked a lot of "parents of the girlfriend" style questions: how were his grades, what his family was like, what he did in his spare time, what he wanted to do after high school, where he saw himself in ten years, all that noise. Ethan ducked nothing and answered calmly and levelly, and for every question they asked him, he asked one of them in return: how long Jenny had been in her job, what it was like for Bart to run a publishing house, what they liked to do for fun. The question that really caught their attention was when Ethan inquired about what Jenny liked to cook, which led to him saying that he had taken up cooking too and was getting fairly good at it; this caused Jenny to shoot her daughter a Significant Look and tell Ethan, "There's nothing more attractive than a man who's good in the kitchen."

"Unless that man is me," Bart said dryly. "I wouldn't inflict my cooking on my worst enemy."

Jenny laughed and kissed her husband playfully on the cheek. "You have so many other fine qualities that you more than make up for it."

After a little more chit-chat, they all piled into Bart's Mercedes sedan and headed out. Conversation was dominated by school topics, given that conferences were tonight. Ethan and Becky maintained their end of the talk even after Ethan took her hand in his and began to rub his thumb on the back of her hand; he watched the flush crawl up out of her neckline and onto her cheeks, and he noticed that her nipples were pitching tents. Son of a bitch, thanks Sindee, that really does work.

Soon Ethan was getting out of the car in front of his place. "Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you tonight at school. And Becky, I will definitely see you tomorrow."

"You definitely will." She couldn't have smiled any broader.

*

Harley thought his interview had gone well and he had high hopes to be called back for a second. He worked a shift that night and ate dinner with his wife and his son, which wasn't always the case these days. Ethan found his presence a relief, since it meant that nothing could happen between his mother and him; Brianna was disappointed and dismayed to discover that she resented her husband's presence for just the same reason. It just increased the tension between her and Ethan more, and it was already so tense that she dreaded seeing her son almost as much as she longed for it.

After dinner, Harley kissed Brianna on the cheek and left for his job. Ethan took care of what little clean-up there was while his mother excused herself to get ready for the school conferences that evening. Parent-teacher-student conferences were something of an event for them, as they had been since Ethan had entered kindergarten; everyone attending cleaned themselves up and put on nice clothes, trying to show their best face to teachers who had already formed an opinion about Ethan. Neither mother nor son were upset about Harley not being there, since he had stopped attending these things eight years before, when Ethan was in fourth grade. And really these things were a formality for them anyway, since Ethan had never been a conduct problem and his entire school career had been one A grade after another; still, they made the effort.

Brianna dressed in perhaps the nicest outfit she had bought for herself on her spree with Olinka: A dressy black button-down shirt, a medium-gray skirt that came to her knee with a matching jacket, black stockings, and black three-inch heels (seeing as how she almost never wore heels, even that height was a challenge). Ethan wore a nice burgundy button-down shirt and the only real pair of dress pants he owned, with black wing-tip Oxfords that his aunt had bought him and that he had shined earlier that day.

When Brianna saw him dressed that way, the thought We make a hell of a nice couple stole unbidden through her mind, and it was a mark of her weakness that she let her mind dwell on the image for a few seconds before she pushed it away. He looked a few years older than he was, and she looked a few years younger, so it wouldn't even seem that strange.

And the tension between them increased.

As they were walking to the garage, Ethan said, "I'll drive." Brianna handed him the keys automatically, without a second thought, and he climbed into the driver's seat. It wasn't until later that night, when she was trying without success to fall asleep, that it struck her how odd and singular that moment was. He had asked to drive before when it was just the two of them, and she had never refused him, but this time he had not asked, he had ordered and she had obeyed as though it was the most natural thing in the world. In the moment, her only thought was about how good it felt to have a big, strong, capable man around who wanted to drive her places.

On the way to the school, Ethan gave her a rundown of his teachers and what they were like. She knew Yve Clyde and Raquel Orozco, since Ethan had had classes from them both in previous years, but the other two were new. She always liked it when he had new teachers, since it gave her the chance to listen to another person rave about her son - what mother wouldn't love that?

The briefing took only a few minutes, and had been completed by halfway through the drive. There was no conversation after that - the pressure between them had gotten so thick neither could think of anything that wouldn't sound either sexually charged or trite. They pulled up to the high school; the student lot, which was where they would park, was filled to overflowing, so Ethan ended up parking almost a block away, with a bunch of other students and parents. It was a nice evening for a walk.

Once in school, it was the same routine that happened every semester: hurrying from one classroom to the next to make their appointed time, barely a chance to nod hello to friends or their parents. They did manage to pass a few minutes with Olinka and her mom and stepdad; neither of her parents had seen Brianna since the weight loss, so Brianna was showered with praise. At one point, Ethan had spotted the Hauptmans going into a room some distance down the hall, but the Becky didn't notice him.

The news, of course, was universally good. Mrs. Clyde was shocked by Brianna's new appearance and asked for weight loss tips (In the past few years she had reached the age where any lapse in exercise meant fat on the thighs), and her report on Ethan was absolutely glowing - especially his Poe paper, which Mrs. Clyde said was one of the best she had ever read. His AP Physics teacher, Mr, Unser, made neither a positive nor a negative impression on Brianna, but he did say that Ethan was one of the best students in the school. Ms. Orozco was also thrilled with the new Brianna, just as she had been stunned by the new Ethan when school had begun, and much of the conference was held in Spanish (both Ethan and Brianna were quite fluent). Mr. Valentinov, the AP Calculus teacher, seemed to Brianna to have bathed in Eau de Two Years From Retirement And I'm So Over This Shit, but he did report that Ethan had yet to score less than perfect on an assignment, quiz, or test, and that his hand was always the first to go up when a question was asked.

"I am so proud of you," Brianna said as they walked back to the car. "I know I say it every time, but you are the best son I could ever have asked for. Only now you're a man, a real man, and I hope you know that."

He did. "Thank you. You're the best mom I could ever have asked for. And you're a real woman."

He said it as a little joke, a play on what she had said to him. She knew his sense of humor well enough to get it. But when he said those words, she couldn't help thinking about what what real men did with real women. Thankfully the darkness hid her blush. She tried to think about something to say, but again the tension was overwhelming, more that it had been at any time in the past. It was both thrilling and acutely uncomfortable.

Ethan didn't say a word on the way home. Whatever was between him and his mom was hurtling toward a breaking point. He shouldn't have watched her do yoga the day before - he knew he was making a mistake even when he was doing it - and it had pushed them over a line. Their little collision in the kitchen had been an accident, but him staring at her and her doing provocative poses for him was deliberately sexual and completely reciprocal. They were no longer at the stage where they could avoid talking about it and just hope that the other one would control themselves, because neither one could.

It was his own fault, of course. He should have been able to control himself better - Uncle Jim always said that self-control was the mark of a real man. And he'd tried his best, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't give up - Uncle Jim also told him that it's not a sin for a man to fail, only for a man to stop trying; and anyway, the stakes here were life-altering, not just for himself but for the woman he loved more than anyone else in the world. He had to get this right.

They would talk tonight, when his dad wasn't around. They needed to get on the same page, and that page needed to be about keeping tight rein on themselves and not provoking the other, no matter how good it felt in the moment. His mom might not have the will to restrain herself, but that made it all the more important that he rein himself in. This conversation was going to be even more uncomfortable that when he asked her about her sex life.

He pulled the car off the street and into their driveway, hitting the button to raise the garage door. The light came on in the garage, and he pulled into the lefthand spot where her car was always parked. Now. He had to start that conversation now, while the moment was ripe, while they were in a confined space together to keep them in it even if the talk became unbearable. He turned to her as she was reaching for the door and said, "Mom." She stopped, hand on the handle, and turned to look at her with her big, gorgeous eyes and her lips slightly parted -

And suddenly there was no distance at all between them. He reached his hand behind her head and pulled her close as he leaned in to meet her. His kiss was powerful and certain. She stiffened as she felt him press his mouth against hers, but only for an instant. This was the kiss she had always read about; this was the kiss her friends had described; this was the kiss she hadn't even known how much she'd needed until she felt it here, now, for the first time. She simply melted into her son and let him take command.

For all his amazement at what he was doing, especially given how contrary it ran to what he'd been thinking a few seconds before, he made no effort to stop; indeed, very quickly there was nothing in his mind at all except for the woman in his arms and what he wanted to do with her. He could tell how much she loved it, but she seemed a bit surprised when, after a few seconds, he let his tongue out and flicked at her lips: she stiffened again but relaxed almost instantly and, with a sigh, opened her mouth for him. He made no effort to cram his tongue down her throat (over the summer he had been schooled on kissing and given lots of practice); rather, he found her tongue, clenched and inert, and began flicking and caressing it with his in the most coaxing way.

Brianna was suffused in it. This is it, my first tongue-kiss ever, and it feels so strange. She didn't know what she should do; she had read about this, imagined it, but now it was here and it was different than she ever expected it to be. At the moment there was no thought in her mind of them being mother and son, no thought of her being married, no thought of right or wrong. It was just the two of them in the car alone and there was nothing else. The women in the books she'd read moved their tongues too. She tried it, hesitantly at first, and then sliding it along Ethan's and curling it to caress him as he moved. And suddenly it didn't feel strange - it felt amazing, and the sound she gave his mouth was not a sigh anymore, but a soft, needy moan.

He was not thinking of her being his mom or the trouble this might cause either; the moment, the kiss, was all there was. He turned his body toward her as much as the steering wheel in his lap would permit - enough anyway to trace the backs of his fingernails gently down the curve of her neck and make her moan into a little cry that his mouth swallowed. It made her kiss him harder, which made him kiss her harder, and soon their were going at each other so fiercely it might well bruise their lips. They stayed that way for some indeterminate time, with him touching her neck and her contorting herself to give him as much access to her bare skin as she could without interfering with the kiss. This was the fourth woman he'd ever kissed this way, and none of them had reacted with such eagerness and enthusiasm as she was showing.

The fingertips on her neck... no books had ever described how transcendent that felt. It was just a simple touch, of the sort he could give her at any time, even in public - but it aroused her more than she knew she could be aroused. Her moans were becoming whimpers as his actions overpowered her senses, but from somewhere in her oxytocin-addled brain came a memory of a scene from a book where the woman sucked her man's tongue like she was fellating it; she had literally no idea what fellatio was like or how to do it, but she seemed instinctively to know how to suck his tongue. The happy little sound he made when she began thrilled her down to the soles of her feet and made her want to do more for him, just so she could hear that sound again.

One of his hands stayed stroking her neck, but the other moved down and undid the top button on her shirt, then the next, then the next. His other women had insisted that he learn to do it one-handed - clumsiness in undressing a woman was endearing in a certain kind of guy, but that wasn't the kind of guy he was. He needed to be smooth and proficient in everything to back up his swagger, and Luisa and Sindee both gave him enough practice to make sure of it. In moments her shirt was wide open and his hand was inside, squeezing her little breasts through her bra.

And oh! Someone was touching her there for the first time in her life! That wasn't quite true - her husband had fondled her a few times back when they were still occasionally having sex, but he hadn't known what he was doing and probably hadn't cared. It felt nothing like this, where her hard nipple tried to rip through the thin fabric of her bra and he seemed to know exactly how to make it thrilling. It was dizzying, and somehow it got much better a moment later when he pinched her nipple through her bra and gave it a little tug; she gave a throaty moan at that, and she wasn't even aware that she was pressing her chest forward into his hand. How could such a small movement have felt so good?

He knew how to do other things one-handed too: he reached around her and, with a flick of his fingers, undid her bra. He pushed it up and her breasts finally came free. He saw this all in an instant as he pulled his mouth away against an inarticulate sound of protest from her lips - a protest that turned into a moan of amazement and delight when he moved his mouth down to her neck. Then both hands were moving down to her breasts and her nipples, cupping, squeezing, tugging, making her moan; those moans got louder as he nibbled her earlobe.

The pleasure was beyond anything she had ever dreamed. His lips, his hands, everywhere they touched they left a trail of fire as her skin blazed from the inside. She was squirming now, overcome by sensations too powerful to sit still for. And this was only foreplay! What would real sex with him feel like? She was beginning to understand why his summer girl was making those erotic noises she made - she wasn't there yet, but if these feelings were magnified, Lord, she would be screaming. God how I want to scream like that!

Her cute little tits felt amazing in his hand, so firm and responsive - every time he gave a slightly different caress or tweak or squeeze to her nipples, she gave a different moan, like they were a keyboard and he was playing them. But he didn't just want them in his hands. He wanted to see how she'd react to something more intense. He wanted more. He kissed down onto her collar bone, then further down onto her chest.

She knew what was coming - it could only be one thing - so why was he taking so long? Why was he lingering on every spot, kissing, licking, making that burning trail on her skin as he took his time on her? Her breasts felt fuller than at any time since she'd lost all her weight, her nipples were harder than they had been in her whole life. Her breasts hurt for his mouth. Without even realizing, she had begun to mewl a single word again and again: "Please... please..."

He could only grin against her skin. She sounded so sweet and genuine when she begged him like that. His other girls had done the same, begged him for more, but none of them had sounded like this - or perhaps they had, but he had simply felt different when he'd heard them. The others he had been with sounded like women who wanted sex. The woman he was touching now sounded like a woman who was pleading desperately for him to change her life. That difference was the hottest thing he had ever heard in his life.

He was face-to-face with her breasts now in the garage light - not even a handful but very perky, with pink areolas such perfect circles that they could have been drawn in by a stencil, and in the middle of each an erect little bud. His mouth watered even as she pushed them toward him. He didn't hesitate - he simply leaned in and put his mouth around her left nipple, sucking it into his mouth with gentle but increasing pressure until he engulfed it and the flesh around it. Her moan was guttural, almost more of a groan, but there could be no doubt about how it felt for her. When the garage light turned off and he began to use his tongue on it, she shuddered; when he scraped it with his teeth and gave it a little bite, she cried aloud.

This was almost too much for her to comprehend, too much to get her mind around. The sensations were so intense! How could such simple things like fingertips playing with her earlobe or a tongue on her nipple feel this way? It didn't make sense! Her whole body was alive, tingling, her skin dancing with spasmodic microconvulsions as this amazing thing she had never felt before swept through her body. This man... this beautiful, perfect man...

And her pussy! She had thought she was horny before, but her vagina was screaming to be touched. No, not touched, filled. Filled by nobody but him, by his big cock, by his thick shaft that would stretch her and teach her what it meant to be fucked. She could feel that her panties were soaked through, and the idea that her body had produced such lubrication in such amounts was shockingly erotic in and of itself. If she had been bolder, or perhaps more accurately if she had been someone else, she would have begged him for more, begged him to fuck her, to pound her, to mate her; alas, she was herself, and all she could do was whimper and moan and try to communicate in inarticulate sounds what her body needed.

Of course he knew what her body was telling him and knew from the sounds she made that she was losing her mind from arousal she didn't know how to deal with. She would do whatever he wanted and be grateful for the guidance so long as it gave her the release she craved - and she wasn't the only one craving release, because his cock was straining and his balls were aching, and the thought of being inside this wonderful woman made him want to take her right here. He wanted to see how her face contorted when he pushed inside her for the first time; he wanted to see her come for him; he wanted to see the gratitude and adoration in her eyes when he gave her what nobody had ever given her before.

He moved his hand from her neck to her stomach, just below his face, and rested it there, palm flat. Her skin jumped against his touch. He was certain nobody had ever touched here there in that way - sometimes a soft touch shocked more than a forceful one. Still sucking her nipples, he slowly moved his hand down, over her navel, until it reached the top of her skirt, and then lower, down onto her thigh, tugging the garment higher so he could reach beneath -

This is my MOM.

The thought struck Ethan like a punch in the damned face. Somehow, from the moment he had leaned in to kiss her, who she was (and who he was to her) had completely flown his mind. Now, though, it came roaring back, along with all the implications of what he had just done and what he had been about to do. He had been mere minutes from fucking his mother, and the enormity of it pulled him away from her.

"What?" she gasped in bewilderment when her brain finally told her that she wasn't being sexed up anymore. "What... why..."

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to contain his own confusion and emotion as he pulled her shirt closed over her chest. "I shouldn't have done that. That was... wrong."

She blinked and shook her head, trying to comprehend being yanked from the edge of bliss and sunk back into her mundane self. "I... I..."

He put both his hands on the wheel and stared ahead at the wall, only a few feet away but barely visible in the faint illumination of the street lamps outside. "I was out of control. I was reckless and irresponsible and way, way, way out of line. I'm sorry."

Things started falling into place for Brianna as she reconstructed what had happened over the fifteen or so minutes. Ethan had kissed her, had groped her, had sucked her boobs, had come within inches of touching her pussy - the pussy that still howled for him to keep going. Nothing had prepared her to feel what she had felt, and now that it was done... what? Now that it's done I want more. No. Now that it's done, I need more.

"Please don't stop," she said softly, amazed at her own temerity.

"Huh?"

"Can we go again? Please?"

This wasn't something he expected her to say, and it took him a moment to digest it. "Mom, I don't think you know what you're saying."

"I do, Ethan. Please!"

"You're my mom. I'm your son. You're married to my father, and he and... and everybody else would lose their fucking minds if they knew what we just did."

"How would they know?"

"This isn't a secret we can keep," he insisted. "Well I mean we can keep it now, but if we went further, someone would figure it out. Dad would figure it out."

At the moment, Brianna couldn't have given a smaller particle of a fuck what Harley or anyone else thought. She had been so close to the great revelation, to understanding what was in all those stories, to really being a whole woman for the first time, and all at the hands (and tongue, and cock) of the most wonderful man she knew, the man she loved more than she could ever love anyone else. It had almost been perfect, and now she was suddenly on the other side, unfulfilled, aching, empty. It wasn't fair! She tried to say something, anything, but the frustration boiled up and suddenly she was sobbing.

He wasn't shocked at her reaction. He had majorly fucked up, so of course she was miserable because of him. He put a hand on her shoulder to pull her close; she resisted for a moment, but finally fell toward him, buried her face in his chest, and let the tears flow. He didn't say anything because he couldn't think of anything to say that would help more than hurt, so he just kept his hands chastely on her back and let her emotions work themselves out.

She couldn't have told him exactly what her emotions were if she had tried. She had never been more confused in her life. She clenched his shirt with both hands and pressed her face into him; somehow smelling him like this made it better and worse at the same time, and that didn't make any goddamned sense either. They stayed that way for almost fifteen minutes while her tempest blew itself out. Her tears stopped, and sometime later her sniffling did the same. Now she was just wrapped in his arms against a tear-soaked shirt, and it occurred to her that she was going to have to work to get the stains of her makeup out of the fabric. The life of a mother.

Finally Ethan whispered, "We're going to go inside. We're each going to take a shower and change into some comfortable clothes. You're going to make yourself some tea or something to help you relax. Then we're sitting down on the sofa and we're going to talk about this. Right?"

She said nothing because she thought she might start crying again if she did, but she did manage a nod. Reluctantly she opened her door and stepped out, the September air hitting her bare skin and making her remember her boobs were hanging out. She pulled her shirt closed and walked behind her son into the house.

Ethan fought to get his thoughts and emotions in some kind of logical order as he showered. He wanted to chastise himself and call himself ten kinds of idiot, but that wouldn't be helpful. He knew he had to be in command here, to lay the ground rules and call the shots. His mom was confused by what had happened and would shortly start feeling guilt, if she wasn't feeling it already. He had put her in that position, so he had to give her a foundation and help her work her way through it. He had to be calm and rational. He could do it.

For her part, Brianna was having a hard time thinking or feeling anything distinct and recognizable; it was all sort of a blur. No feeling or concept had edges - everything was blending into everything else to such an extent that she was almost numb. Her body wasn't numb, though, not after what Ethan did to it. She was hypersensitized, almost to the point where she felt the separate impact of each drop of water in her shower. Her body was still aroused, but the horniness in her brain had died. She needed something to ground her. She needed her son.

Ethan dressed in a red tee and jeans, and he was sitting on the sofa when his mom came out of her bedroom. She wore her bedtime tee shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts that she had bought for herself when she was in Kansas. She quickly made herself a cup of magnolia tea as her son had instructed, and then came and joined him on the couch; Licorice made biscuits on her thigh and finally curled up in a ball. Ethan sat on one end and expected her to sit on the other, but instead she sat about halfway along, within easy reach. She took a sip of tea from her World's Best Librarian mug and simply looked at him passively, waiting for him to start.

With a deep breath, he did. "First, I want to say I'm sorry for what happened."

"Why?" She wasn't challenging him. She just needed to understand.

"Because I crossed a line I shouldn't have crossed. Because you're my mother and I shouldn't kiss you the way I did. I shouldn't have done any of the things I did." He paused for a reply, but she simply looked at him as though he hadn't yet gotten to the point. "We've been crossing a lot of lines lately. That's my fault. We have to stop." Another pause, then, "Well?"

Another sip of tea. "I loved what we just did. I've never felt anything like that in my life, and it made me feel better than I ever have. I've loved everything we've done. I love it when you look at me and I know you want me. I love looking at you and wanting you. I don't want to stop."

"You understand it's going in a very dangerous direction. We've done things parents and children shouldn't do. If we keep going, we'll do more. We can't take any of it back, but we can keep from doing things that will blow up our lives."

She looked down into her mug, and didn't look up when she said, "There's something I need to know. Do you like what we've been doing?"

It would have been so much easier for Ethan if he could have lied, but a man told the truth to the people he loved, always, no matter how inconvenient. "Yeah. I do."

"Do you like what we just did?"

"Yes."

"Am I... did I kiss you OK?"

Her kiss had started out stiff, but when she got the hang of it, she got the hang of it. "Yes. It was one of the best kisses I've ever had."

"Do you... do you like my breasts? I know they aren't big, but..."

"Mom, come on."

"Please, Ethan. I need to know. Please."

He sighed. No lies. "Yes, they're gorgeous and sensitive. There's no reason I wouldn't love them."

Unspectacular as they are, he still loves them. She felt herself getting warm again."Do you want to stop?"

"We have to stop, for the good of all of us."

"But do you want to?"

"Damn it. No, I don't want to stop. I love looking at you. I love it when you dress in sexy clothes and pose for me. I love making out with you. If you weren't my mom I'd have you in my bed right now - but you are my mom, and I'm your son, and that's all there is to that."

"I trust you, Ethan. If you say we need to stop, then we'll stop. But first can you tell me why? With real reasons, not just 'we have to?'"

It was a fair request. He paused for a moment to order his thoughts, then said, "Everything we do, sexually, changes our relationship. Us being attracted to each other has changed our relationship, constantly checking each other out has changed our relationship, what we did out in the garage changed our relationship, and all those changes are forever. We can stop doing those things, but we can't go back to how things were before. We can't undo it."

"Neither of us want to undo it."

"Yeah, true, but that means that if we keep doing it, then we'll probably do more. If we keep going this way, we're going to end up having sex. There's no way around it. And if we do that, we can't walk it back from there, we'll always be lovers or ex-lovers. We won't be mother and son anymore."

Brianna had never had an ex-lover. Realistically, she had never even had a lover. She didn't know what that meant or how she would handle it. She said nothing.

"What we've done up to now, even this evening, is one thing," he went on. "This is something that nobody's going to know about. But dad's uninterested, not unobservant or unintelligent. If we take this further then we won't be able to keep our hands off each other, and he will notice that pretty damned quickly."

She felt herself getting aroused again. The idea of having Ethan always lusting after her, always taking her to satisfy his lust and hers, was the most perfectly erotic thing she had ever imagined. Harley being aware of that seemed unimportant to her at the moment.

Ethan wasn't aware of what she was thinking, of course, so he kept on. "If dad figures out what's up with us, figures out we're fu - we're having sex, then that's it. Divorce, scandal, probably legal charges against both of us. It will blow both of our lives apart. Prison - imagine that, both of us in prison!"

She winced but said nothing.

"Even if we manage to avoid that, everyone will find out" he went on. "The library will fire you. I won't be able to get into a good school. Everywhere you go, people will say, 'There goes the slut who has sex with her son.' You'll be jobless and still have your half of this mortgage to pay off."

That one landed: she had spent her whole adult life scraping along paycheck to paycheck, just barely getting by, and if there was one thing that could frighten her, it was the prospect of financial ruin. And that wasn't even mentioning the ruination of Ethan's prospects. Her beautiful, wonderful, amazing son deserved a fantastic life and she couldn't do anything to jeopardize that, no matter how much her body was screaming for it. It was with great reluctance that she finally nodded. "Alright, those are good reasons. But I can't stop baby, not on my own, I don't know how. You're going to need to tell me what to do."

Of course would have to, he had just assumed it. "The first thing we need to do is get a good night's sleep. Always sleep on big decisions."

"More wisdom from your uncle?"

"That one I figured out on my own. I love you, mom."

"I love you, baby, more than anything."

"Get some sleep. Good night."

"Good night." She watched as Ethan stood, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed by on the way to his room.

*

That night was nearly sleepless for both of them.

Brianna was kept awake by reminiscence of how Ethan had made her feel, how he had given her something much more intense than her failed effort at masturbation building inside her. Ethan was right that they couldn't be together - he was always right, she suspected - but she had no idea how she could go back to a sexual sleepwalk when he had opened her eyes that way. Ever since she had gotten back from Kansas, he had given her the itch that had just grown and grown - she wasn't sure she could go on if he didn't scratch it.

And he and his hands and tongue and mouth and gorgeous body and hard cock were right across the hall. Every. Single. Night.

Ethan's mind was kept busy in a different direction. What had to be done was obvious: no more teasing, no more ogling, no more inappropriate behavior of any kind, anyone could see that. But seeing it wasn't the problem. Doing it was.

For as far back as he could remember, he had been in charge. Not of things - there are few things a four-year-old was in charge of, for example - but of himself. He didn't let his emotions take charge, he didn't do stupid things to impress people, he didn't procrastinate or dawdle or waste time. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted, and he got results.

The only exception to that was with girls. Before this last summer, he had been achingly awkward with them. Not with girls as friends, he was always fine about that, but the second sex or romance had entered the picture, he had been lost. Luisa had changed that (with a major assist from Uncle Jim) but now he was facing a different problem: his virginity gone, his libido was now running rampant. Sindee, Becky - whatever he had wanted, he'd simply gotten, almost without effort. And now he wanted his mother.

If that had been all it was - just wanting in the same way he wanted Sindee - it wouldn't have been a problem. That was under control and didn't compel him to do anything. But with his mom it was was different. That was controlling him. He never would have kissed her if he had been in control of himself, never would have opened her shirt and bra, never would have sucked her nipples. He never would have crossed those lines.

And he wasn't at all sure he could keep from crossing them again.

It was his own fault, even if he wasn't precisely to blame. He was an eighteen-year-old boy who had been a virgin five months before. His hormones were a constant tornado and his impulse control was still developing in his brain. He was wise enough to understand that and too young to do anything about it.

Maybe he should text Uncle Jim about this. He'd know what to do, how to handle it. But it wasn't like he could tell his uncle that he was on the verge of having sex with his own mother, and he couldn't bring himself even to attempt to lie to Jim (and Jim would sense a lie in an instant). Maybe he could obfuscate, say it was about a random older woman - but no, that wouldn't work either: the reason this problem was so difficult was because he spent so much time around his mom. If she was someone else - a friend's mom, a random married woman, even a teacher - it would be a simple thing to control his actions around her and he wouldn't even need his uncle's advice on how to do it.

No, he was on his own on this. His mother would follow his lead whatever he did. He just had to behave in an appropriate way, that's all. As though that were some easy thing.

Sleep did not come.

To be continued