Lockdown – Chapter 3
My alarm went off too early. My hand feebly smacked at it, hitting the snooze. My body was tired, and I was sore between my legs.
Then it came back to me. The dream about Chase and the too-long masturbation session last night. Groaning, I pulled the covers back. My panties had dried, but they still had a funk in them I hadn’t had in a long while.
Shaking my head awake, I grabbed a change of clothes and hurried into the bathroom. If there was a silver lining in the quarantine, it’s that neither of us had to get up near as early as before. And I took a leisurely shower, washing thoroughly between my legs. I should have felt some shame. I hadn’t masturbated like that in years. What few times I had self pleasured myself since Jax came to live with me, I’d been careful, usually only seeking sexual release when he was out of the apartment.
After getting out of the shower, I sniffed the flannel sweats from the day before. They passed the smell test, so I put them on. Then I grabbed one of my tank tops and donned it.
Then, with those precious moments when neither of us needed to rush out of our apartment, I brewed a pot of coffee and enjoyed a cup before going over to Jax’s door. I had heard the alarm from his room when I was changing after my shower. But, as was too common with my son, he’d slept through it. Even going in and waking him, it sometimes took a couple of tries before he’d get moving.
I knocked and waited. After a few seconds, I opened his door and turned on the light, and got the shock of my life. Jax was asleep, turned on his side with one of his legs pulled up. And he was naked as the day I gave birth to him.
The last few mornings, when I had roused him out of bed, I’d noticed Jax wasn’t wearing his pajama top, but the covers hid the rest of him, and I’d assumed he was still wearing his pajama bottoms. I shook my head and paused before going further. Aside from a bit of us getting adjusted to each other when he moved in with me after my mom’s passing, I hadn’t bathed him since then, nor could I think of a time when I saw him naked. And yet, lying there peacefully asleep, he reminded me so much of Chase. The same dirty blond hair. The same lips. I hadn’t thought about Chase in several years and now, as I stared at my naked boy, I realized how similar in appearance he was to my first love.
On his side, with his knee pulled up, Jax’s most private part was hidden from view. Guilt from my dream hit me hard. Dreaming of Chase had turned me on more powerfully than I could recall, and Jax was so much like Chase it ached to see him lying naked in bed. Still, he had school and I, work. At twelve years of age, it was probably past time that I talk with him about his body. Obviously, he was growing up, and he needed to know what to expect.
As quietly as I could, I came over to his bed and pulled his sheets up past his waist. Then I said, “Jax, sweetie. It’s time to get up.”
He let out a soft snore and rolled onto his back. I would have thought he was faking, except for another soft snore and a very visible tent below his waist. I refused to let my eyes linger there. After all, he’s my son and mothers don’t do that. Well, they don’t if they’re not Norma Bates.
I put my hand on Jax’s shoulder and shook it, “Sweetie, it’s time to get up.”
After shaking him a few times, my son’s eyes slowly blinked open, “Wha?”
I turned, my eyes drawn to the tent below his waist, and hurried toward the door, where I turned, “I want you online for school by eight thirty, sweetie. You’ve got time for a shower. I’ll have breakfast ready for you after that.”
I closed the door on the way out, replaying the moment I saw Jax’s naked profile and the other when he rolled onto his back, revealing sheet-covered erection. I filled up another cup of coffee and grabbed some eggs. Jax’s favorite breakfast food was an omelet. I felt a heavy guilt. And what better way to assuage it than by fixing his favorite food?
The omelet was still steaming when Jax came into the kitchen, with a towel wrapped around his neck and a pair of blue briefs around his waist. His face was flushed, “Um, Mom, where’s my green bottoms? I couldn’t find them in my room.”
Without intending to, my eyes fell to his crotch. Jax’s morning erection was gone, replaced by a modest bulge. I blinked and nodded toward the small laundry room off from our kitchen, “Try in there. Some of your stuff is in the dryer.”
From the back, seeing Jax in just his colored briefs, he reminded me so much of Chase. Until this morning, I hadn’t realized my little boy wasn’t so little anymore. When he came out, the shower towel was still wrapped around his neck, but he found his green pajama bottoms and had them on. He sat down at the table, “Yum, an omelet. My favorite.”
As he dug into his food, I said, “No shirt? Aren’t you cold?”
His cheeks turned crimson as he chewed. After swallowing, he looked down at his plate, “I guess I’m still hot from my shower, Mom.”
Seeing him half naked was a distraction. One I didn’t need. Those memories of Chase were still bubbling below the surface of my consciousness. I didn’t need Jax adding to that. “Before you log onto the school computer, you might wan to find a shirt, sweetie. You don’t want your teacher to see you shirtless, do you?”
Still red in the face, Jax shook his head, “Camera on the school laptop isn’t working. If I get cold, I’ll put one on, okay?”
I found myself nodding, “Okay, sweetie.”
When he finished his breakfast, Jax took his plate to the sink before heading into the living room, where a few minutes later, the Windows greeting filled the room. A few minutes later, the kitchen table was cleared off, and I was logged onto my work laptop, gloomily cycling through the incident reports from last night.
I’m a heavy sleeper. More often than not, I’ll sleep through an alarm. This morning was one such morning. The first thing I felt was Mom’s warm hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. When my eyes finally opened up, she was leaning over me. She was wearing another tank top. This one, one she used to wear when she did yoga, was lower cut than yesterday’s. This one, I could see the gentle swell of her flesh above the shirt’s very low collar-line.
By the time Mom retreated to the door, it mortified me to realize I had passed out during my jack off session. Worse, the image in my mind when I had cum was how I imagined mom looked without her top on. When she closed the door, I threw back the sheets and looked at my dick. It was still hard as ever, begging for relief. But I needed a shower and didn’t have the time to take care of it.
At least not until I got in the shower. Once the hot water poured down my body, I soaped up my hand and attacked the erection. Unlike last night, when there was no rush, I had stuff to do, and I badly needed a bit of relief. The tingling crept up fast, brought on by the slick lack of friction between my hand and dick.
As the first wave of my dry cum hit, I leaned against the poured marble wall and watched my dick dance and twitch in my fingers. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open. The intense tingling felt so good that I just wanted to close my eyes and enjoy the cums.
After a dozen times of dry firing, I let my eyes close. And saw a visage of my mom leaning over me. Only this fevered image wasn’t wearing a yoga shirt. The intensity seemed to increase until I let go. “What the fuck?” I murmured. I’d been fantasizing to Kim since before the pandemic hit. And now, for reasons I couldn’t understand, my mom invaded my thoughts and overwrote my existing fantasy.
As I dried off, I thought about why Mom was invading my jack-off sessions. Jason had told me more than once that my mom was hot. I’d even hit him hard enough on his arm to raise a bruise when he said, “I’d tap that ass, dude. You’re so fucking lucky to have a hot mom.”
I had to admit, Mom was hot, in a willowy way. In a way, she was a lot like Kim, except more grown and mature, with a little more curve to her figure. Still, she was Mom, and it felt really weird to even consider how Jason was right. I pushed the thoughts away as I scrounged around for something to wear. My pajamas from yesterday smelled funky and my sweatshirts were just as bad.
Swallowing my pride, and also a fair amount of shame, given the image of what I’d just cum to, I wrapped a towel around my neck and went to ask Mom about clean clothes.
Later, after I put on a pair of green PJ bottoms, I sat at the table and ate an omelet. I love eggs and there’s no better way to fix them than to turn a few of them into an omelet. Most mornings, it was oatmeal or cold cereal. I kept glancing over at Mom while I ate, but I couldn’t figure out why she had prepared my favorite food. Then, as I finished eating, I replayed the morning. Had she seen me and realized I’d slept in the buff? Or did she see my stiffy when she came in? Was the omelet some subtle Mom way of saying she saw more of me than she intended? I didn’t know, and as I set my plate in the sink, it bothered me.
The only thing good about school was it was Friday. Once I powered down the laptop at the end of the day, I had two glorious days. Scratch that. If there wasn’t a quarantine, there’d be two glorious days. Instead, we were locked inside the apartment, just the two of us. Given what my sick mind seemed to focus on when I got horny, I really wanted to get away, give Mom some space. But that wasn’t going to happen. I sighed as I got up and went into the kitchen.
Mom’s fingers were flying across her keyboard as she muttered, “The problem with people, is that half of them are below average. And my company specializes in hiring them.”
When she saw me, she flashed an embarrassed grin, “Just ignore my grousing, sweetie.”
Then, I felt weird when her eyes tracked across my chest, “I guess you didn’t get cold?”
Involuntarily, I crossed my arms, “No. The heater kept things comfortable.”
Even though it felt weird for Mom to be checking my body out, it also felt good, albeit weirdly. As I went back into the living room while Mom finished her workday, I wondered if Kim had ever looked at me like that.
Mom had put a stew in the slow cooker earlier in the day and when it was ready, she ladled it into a couple of bowls and we sat down on the couch beside each other and ate it while starting over on the first season of Stranger Things. When I finished my bowl, I hit the pause button and started to get up. Mom said, “Here, sweetie, let me have your bowl. You want a refill?”
Mom was usually all about me doing for myself. But since the quarantine, she had taken to doing more things for me. I shrugged as I handed over my bowl, “Yes, please. It’s fantastic.”
When Mom brought the second bowl in, she handed it to me and then settled herself next to me. By the time I finished the bowl, I was full. She whisked it away and when she came back, she leaned against me as we finished watching the first episode.
Before I could start the second episode, Mom said, “Being stuck at home sucks in a lot of ways, Jax. But if there’s one good thing about it, it’s that we’re getting to spend more time together. I’m grateful for that. In fact, it’s only sneaked up on me that you’re growing up. This summer, you’ll be a teenager.”
I’ve heard other boys in class talk about “The Talk.” That embarrassing moment when your ‘rents decide to sit down and tell you about sex. As if school didn’t already explain the mechanics. Even if Jason and I hadn’t discovered the joys of mutual masturbation, I didn’t want to hear Mom stumble through how birds and bees pollinate flowers.
I grumbled, “I know, Mom.”
Mom didn’t pick up on my tone, “You’re probably already aware of some changes. After all, this year you’ve almost caught up with me. Just a few more inches and you’ll be taller than me.”
Wishing I was anywhere else, I set the remote down. The surest way to get this over was to just let her say what she wanted. Then we could get back to the show.
“I want you to know, you can ask me anything. Anything at all about these changes and I’ll do my best to answer them. My mom didn’t want to talk with me about puberty and all that stuff and because of it, I really didn’t think about the consequences of sex.”
Oh, God. She wasn’t going to talk about how she conceived me. Please, God, no. Even when I was little, Nana had made sure I knew my mom had just been a teenager when she became pregnant with me. Since Nana’s passing, Mom and I hadn’t talked about it. It didn’t matter, not to her and not to me. Why now?
I said, “You mean how girls get pregnant? Mom, we covered that in health class.”
Sitting so close to me that our sides were touching, I felt as much as saw her blush. “I know, sweetie. Still, I want you to feel comfortable enough to ask me anything about the changes you’re going through, because, believe it or not, I’ve gone through them, just as a girl.”
Throughout dinner and the first episode of Stranger Things, I hadn’t really been aware how my bare shoulder was touching mom’s bare shoulder. Sure, she wore her tank top, but I was shirtless. Now, talking about bodies, when I glanced over at her, I could see the soft rises of her breasts on her low-cut shirt. Seeing the swells reminded me of the fantasy I’d had last night. And worse yet, my body reacted to her touch.
Mom continued, “Your body is getting urges now that are new. Maybe you’ve noticed your, um…”
Her voice faded out. She was looking down past my bare chest, at my pajama covered crotch. I felt the heat rise in my face as I hoped she couldn’t see my erection. Thankfully, sitting down, the pajamas bunched at the waist and probably did a decent job hiding me. Then it came to me. Talking about sex and body changes, Mom had to have seen me this morning. At the very least, the tent in my sheets.
My face had to be red, and I was hot for reasons not related to the thermostat. Flustered with my mom, I knew it was wrong, but if she could make me uncomfortable, I could do the same, “My what? My dick?”
Mom swallowed nervously, “Yeah. Your, um, your dick. Maybe you’ve noticed it getting erect more than it used to. That’s a sign you’re getting close to puberty. And once you enter puberty, well, you’ll be able to get a girl pregnant.”
Still embarrassed and more than just a little irate, I drew some pleasure at making Mom uncomfortable, “I know about that, Mom. But what if I’m gay? I wouldn’t really have to worry about that. Right?”
Her eyes grew round, “Your father…”
Her voice failed her. My Nana never talked about my dad. I was pretty sure Mom had never told her who my father was. Until this moment, Mom had never mentioned him. When she found her voice again, she continued, “There’s nothing wrong that that, sweetie. Sometimes nature just takes a different path. Do you think you might be gay?”
I shrugged. I really enjoyed looking at Kim in homeroom. But fooling around with Jason was a lot of fun too. Just before the virus hit, he and I had been talking about another sleep over. He had dropped some hints about wanting to do more than just jack each other off. And I had been looking forward to it, too. And then there was last night. When mom had hugged me and her boobs pressed against my chest, I’m pretty sure that’s what caused me to fantasize about her. All that left me confused.
I sighed, “I don’t know, Mom. There’s this girl I really like. But there’s also a boy, and we like…”
I stopped. The last thing I wanted to admit to Mom was jacking Jason off.
Mom reached an arm around me, pulling me into a half hug, “Jason? I wondered about that. Just because the two of you might explore stuff with each other doesn’t make you gay, Jax. It also doesn’t not make you gay. Kids your age experiment with one another. That’s actually how you were made.”
Stunned at her admission, I leaned against her, “What? How?”
Mom’s chuckle was low, not rising higher than her throat, “Well, you know a bee pollinates- “
I dug my elbow into her ribs, “Don’t. Please. I know how stuff works. You know, school. The internet.”
The grin she gave me was embarrassed, “Chase was my best friend in high school. The only reason our parents trusted us so much was because he was gay. Well, one thing led to another, and we were left alone one night. We were so naïve and innocent. And horny. We were playing a game. Like I said, one thing led to another, and we had sex. It didn’t stop him from being gay. He was simply experimenting with me.”
If I had been standing up, she could have knocked me over with a feather. Chase. That was my dad’s name. Still processing the revelation, I said, “I didn’t think a girl could get pregnant the first time?”
My mom squeezed my shoulder and laughed, “God, no. That’s bullshit boys tell girls to get them to spread their legs. Still, I didn’t get pregnant that time. That game we played that night, we kept playing for a while. It was probably a month or two after our first time when we created you.”
Shaking my head, “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
Mom let out a deep, unsettling sigh, “I wish I had a good answer for you, Jax. At first, when I discovered I was pregnant, I told my parents a boy who had just moved away had been the father. Of course, I refused to give a name. I told Chase the same lie. I don’t think he believed me. But he was just fourteen. I think he went along with it. He had just started dating this other boy and the complication of having to acknowledge he might have knocked up his best friend would have been more than he could have handled.”
I leaned my head back, resting against Mom’s arm. “Wow.”
Mom pulled me into a hug, wrapping her other arm around my stomach, “So, you see, Jax, the consequences of sex can be pretty serious. That’s why it’s important, if it’s a boy and a girl for one or the other to take precautions, unless you’re ready for the responsibility of parenthood.”
I could read through the lines of what she wasn’t saying. Mom and Nana hadn’t gotten along very well after I was born, and Mom left when she was eighteen. Okay, she was actually kicked out. And that’s why I stayed with my grandparents until Nana died. Still, that was about half a life-time ago for me. Since then, my mom has been everything I needed.
The heat unrelated to the room temperature rose inside me as I returned Mom’s hug. Despite the tank-top she wore, I could feel her breasts against my chest through the flimsy fabric. I was thankful for the bunched-up material at my crotch masking my stiffy.
“Maybe you weren’t ready when I was born, but you’re a pretty good Mom now,” I said.
Another little squeeze, “Thanks, sweetie. I’m trying.”
When the hug ended, she kissed me on the cheek and added, “Enough about my misspent youth, Jax. I told you that because I want us to be open and honest with each other. I want you to be able to ask me anything you want.”
My head swam with all the new information. I had more questions about my dad, but sensed Mom might not want to talk more about him yet. I was also curious about what she’d seen when she came in and woke me up. I wasn’t sure if it was the kind of question she meant, but her touch made me hard. “This morning, Mom, when you came in and woke me up, did you see me?
“See you? Of course, you were lying in bed. You were right there.”
Flustered that she might be trying to avoid answering me, especially after telling me I could ask her anything, I clarified, “I mean, did you see me naked?”
Mom’s cheeks colored again, “Oh, yeah. You were lying on your side. I guess you’re not sleeping in your pajamas anymore?”
I shook my head. “Not for a while. They’re too constricting. Usually, I just sleep in my underwear. Is that okay?”
Mom smiled, “Sure, sweetie. If you’re comfortable sleeping in your underwear or in nothing at all, you’re welcome to.”
I felt something lift off me. For months now, I’d worried about what Mom would think if she caught me sleeping in anything less than my pajamas. Not enough to wear them, but enough to give me a little anxiety.
Seeing the relief on my face, Mom added, “You might want to figure out how to wake up to your alarm if you’re going to sleep naked, sweetie. Unless you’re okay with me seeing your, um, what’d you call it? Your dick.”
I could see she was playing with me, making light of me sleeping however I wanted. And teasing me, calling my penis by its other, dirtier name. I’m sure it would mortify most boys if their moms caught them naked in bed, even more than having their mom refer to their package as a dick. But as I thought about that morning and the fantasy from last night, I discovered it didn’t bother me as much as I had expected.
This playfulness was something new to me. Before the quarantine, me and Mom pretty much did our own things. She bustling me off to school before she caught the bus to where she worked. At night, she would watch TV in her room and I’d play on the PS4 in the living room. Then, she’d run me off to my bedroom or make me get a shower. Then it was the same thing the next day, and the next. Now, though, she was making a joke about something incredibly personal. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I liked this change.
I did not know if I was overstepping, but I felt both bold and terribly naughty as I said, “I don’t think you can handle seeing my big dick.”
My skin radiated heat as soon as the words escaped my mouth. Mom’s eyes arched. Still, I had surprised myself just as much as her. Like a cobra lashing out, her left hand struck my ribs, her fingers digging in, tickling me. I squirmed as giggled erupted from me. She hadn’t tickled me like that in years.
Holding me with one arm around my shoulders and the other attacking my ribs, she said, “Oh, is that right, my little munchkin? You forget I’m the one who changed your diapers, made sure your little pee-pee was all clean.”
Her fingers raced along my ribs, circling around to my sensitive stomach, “Or have you forgotten, I’m the one who bathed you and made sure your little willy was clean? If you happen to sleep naked, I think I can handle seeing your willy.”
We were both laughing, me from Mom’s tickles and her from being silly. Gasping for air, I squeaked out, “I’ve been eating my Wheaties. It’s all gone to my, hahaha, cock!”
Mom let go of my shoulder and attacked my stomach and ribs with both hands, “Oh, you evil little boy. Going on about your dick and cock.”
There was only mirth as she critiqued my filthy mouth. With her hand no longer holding me in place, I toppled onto my side as I struggled to slide away from her unrelenting fingers. But when I fell, all of my torso was even more exposed, giving her unrestricted access to where I was most ticklish.
With Mom’s hands on my stomach and ribs, her body leaned over me. The tickling was tiring my muscles and my body responded by my legs pulling up against my chest. Mom used one hand to push my left leg down and then shifted her weight, pinning that leg down with her leg. Then she did the same thing to my other leg, leaving me open again to her tickling.
I was gasping between my giggles, “St-, stop. G-gotta breathe.”
Mom’s fingers stopped their attack, yet remained poised to resume, resting on my belly. Her face was flushed red from the laughter, “Now what was that you said about your willy?”
When Mom mentioned it, I became aware that my stiffy had never gone away. And now that she was lying on top of me, I glanced down and saw her straddling my midsection. Surely she must have felt it.
Tired from this game of tickles, and hoping she hadn’t felt me under her bottom, I raised my hands over my head, “I surrender, Mom. You win.”
Mom smiled down at me, “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve played like this, Jax?”
The last time I’d played the tickle game with mom I had been eight or nine. “As I recall, you made me pee my pants.”
She giggled, “God, I had forgotten that. You were so embarrassed, especially when I gave you a bath afterwards.”
I tucked my arms behind my head, “I was big enough to bathe myself.”
Mom shook her head, “I miss those days, sweetie. You were my little boy. When you moved in with me following your Nana’s passing, we were practically inseparable. The last couple of years, as you’ve gotten older, we’ve grown apart as you’ve become more independent.”
I knew it was all part of growing up. I enjoyed having my own friends. I liked discovering the world was bigger than just the four walls of our apartment or the school. But with Mom so close right then, I felt it too. I missed how close we once were. I missed our games. And even though I wasn’t about to admit it, I missed how she had used to bathe me.
I said, “We’re close now, Mom. I hate this stupid quarantine, but I like how it lets us hang out, watch movies and play games together.”
Mom smiled as her fingers caressed my stomach and chest, “Me too, Jax.”
I pulled my arms back until they were on my stomach and then feeling a boldness I didn’t know where it came from, I reached out, finding her ribs beneath the yoga shirt and gently tickled her. Mom smiled as her fingers responded in kind. It wasn’t like before, when they were digging in, trying to find my most ticklish spot. It didn’t matter too much because I was terribly ticklish. I giggled, “See, we’re playing together.”
Mom giggled as I found one of her ticklish spots, “Yeah. We are, sweetie.”
Mom’s fingers kept tracing over my ribs. Emboldened by her actions, my fingers traced along her ribs, digging just deep enough to elicit more giggles from her. She kept up the same gentle pressure on my ribs for a moment, then one of her hands drifted to my stomach and played with my belly button. I burst out laughing because it felt ticklish and marvelously weird.
Not to be outdone, I slid one hand under Mom’s shirt and found her belly button. The softness of her flesh sent tingles throughout my body. How she managed to not feel my stiffy while sitting on my midsection was a mystery, but one I had decided earlier to ignore. Then it hit me. I was touching my mom’s belly.
As she let out a deep laugh, Mom’s hands jerked back against her sides. She went from leaning over me to falling against my chest with an “Oof.” She stopped her fall a fraction of an inch before her face would have smacked into mine. In a voice so quiet I almost had to strain to hear it, she said, “Well, hi there, my little man.”
Then, she shocked me by giving me a quick peck on the lips, like something from my childhood when she used to tuck me into bed. Using her arms, she sat back up. Even though my fingers still played with her belly button, the surprise leading to her toppling onto me was gone and her hands returned to my stomach and ribs.
I resumed my giggles as her fingers danced across my ribs and belly. She giggled too as I played with her stomach. With one hand, I moved it across her satiny smooth skin, upward until I found one of her ribs on the right side and did to it what she was doing to mine. I moved my fingers to the next rib, enjoying the giggling we shared. Then the third rib, and I froze when my finger brushed against something even softer than the skin over her ribs. I had inadvertently brushed against her boob.
At that point, Mom said, “Um, sweetie, don’t go too high on my ribs, please.”
My fingers retreated to the bottom rib, “S-, sorry about that, Mom.”
“It’s okay. It was an accident.”
A couple of minutes later, she pulled her hands away from my chest, leaned forward again and gave me that quick peck on the lips, “That was fun, sweetie. You want to watch the next episode now?”
I was sad to retract my hands from beneath her shirt as she climbed off my lap and we resumed sitting next to each other. It’s a good thing I’d already seen Stranger Things, otherwise, I would have missed most of the second episode. I was thinking about the game we’d played. Sure, in a lot of ways, it was very similar to the tickling game mom had played with me when I was younger. But I don’t think I had enjoyed it as much when I was younger.
And that pleasure is where my mind stayed. Touching Mom’s stomach and her ribs had been so fun, even if I felt naughty for doing it. I didn’t understand why I felt naughty until I realized it was because I’d been stiff the entire time, and my enjoyment wasn’t really childlike anymore. It was… different. How, I wasn’t sure. But it was.
I leaned against Mom as the third episode started up, and her arm snaked around my shoulder. Maybe I shouldn’t let myself get so close to my mom during this quarantine. But that thought was cast aside almost as soon I as I thought it. I liked this newfound closeness, and I wanted it to continue, especially considering it was just to two of us and I didn’t want to go back to the way it had been before, when we barely interacted with one another.
I wanted to play more games with her, to be closer to her, even if it made me feel wonderfully weird inside. By the time the third episode was over, I gave Mom a hug, “I love you, Mom. Thanks for getting all silly and playing with me.”
She hugged me back, and once again, I enjoyed the soft pressure of her breast against me, “I enjoyed it too, sweetie. I’d love to play more games with you.”
Something Mom had said earlier came back to me, “When you and my dad were younger, you said the two of you played games together. What games?”
Mom rubbed her hand over my back, enjoying our hug, “Oh, just silly games.”
“Come on, Mom, what’d you play?”
Mom pulled back from the hug, the flush of heat on her cheeks again, “It was just a silly game. We called it the Master and the Slave.”
“Master and slave? How do you play it?”
She cut the TV off and said, “The one who played the slave had to do whatever the master commanded. There was no getting out of it.”
It didn’t sound like much fun to me, “Why? How’d you know my, um, father wouldn’t make you do something painful or really embarrassing?”
Mom cocked her head to one side, like replaying some memory, “We were best friends. And we trusted each other completely.”
Still not convinced, I said, “Which part did you like the best?”
She still wore that reminiscent expression, “I liked being Chase’s slave.”
“Why? Wouldn’t the master be more fun?”
Mom shrugged, “Chase was more than just my best friend. I loved him so much. Even thinking about it now, all the feelings come back. I trusted and loved him. I knew he felt the same way about me. Well, except for the gay part. Being his servant, doing everything he commanded, I felt such a connection.”
I still didn’t really understand it. “But if he asked you to do something you didn’t want to do, did you do it?”
She nodded. “Yeah. That was part of the attraction of the game. Pushing each other’s boundaries. The thing was, I was in love with him, and being dominated by him, unable to refuse any command was fun because I also trusted him. God, we had fun.”
Even though I didn’t really understand the game or mom’s attraction for it, I said, “Maybe we can play it tomorrow. I mean, if you want to.”
Mom smiled at me and gave me a gentle peck on my cheek, “We’ll see, Jax. Just spending time with you is enough for me.” I watched her as she disappeared into her room. A moment later, I turned out the light and went to bed.
Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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