by Matt Tims
She heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on before the bathroom door opened.
“All yours, sweetheart,” Kyle smirked at his friend before moseying out into the hallway.
She had her phone and was all set to go. She just needed to calm down and deal with the traffic and the lines. Stressing out would only make matters worse, but something caught her attention before she could make her way back out to the garage.
“And what about those fuckin’ pants she was wearing?” Kyle loudly asked his buddy through the now shut bathroom door. “That body is so ridiculous.”
He couldn’t possibly be talking about her, could he? These two hunks probably had the attention of all their classmates. What eighteen-year-old schoolgirl didn’t want a sexy jock in their life? But what if they weren’t gossiping about some cute coed? What if they were talking about her? A smile grew on her face as she leaned against the wall to listen in on their conversation.
“Do you have any idea what I would do to that ass?” Kyle continued to talk to his buddy.
The toilet flushed again and the door opened, resulting in Tom’s voice now coming through much more clearly than before. “You would probably nut in twenty seconds!” he loudly laughed.
Kyle leaned against the wall, waiting for Tom to finish washing his hands. “I’m not arguing that, but you’re crazy if you don’t think I’d be fucking her again immediately. I mean, give me like ten seconds and I’d be ready for round two. Can you honestly name a hotter chick than her? And I’m not just talking at school or whatever. She’s stupid good-looking.”
“You think Brett would like it if he heard you talking about his mom like this?” inquired Tom.
Jen’s heart skipped a beat. It was her! They were talking about her!
Kyle waved his hand to dismiss his friend’s comment. “Like he doesn’t know…”
“I think he thinks you’re fucking with him,” Tom told him as the two strolled down the hallway. “Not that you actually want to bang his mom.”
Panic set in as her son’s friends slowly approached the kitchen she was currently occupying. Her first instinct was to hide. She wanted to stay unnoticed, but she needed to continue listening to the conversation these guys were having. She quickly dashed inside the walk-in pantry, and closed the door behind her.
“He has to know that everyone wants to fuck his mom, dude,” Kyle stated as the two entered the kitchen.
“Yeah, but you’re his friend,” Tom replied, watching his buddy dig around in the fridge for something to drink. “It might hit a little too close to home.”
Kyle asked, “And you wouldn’t?”
“Wouldn’t what?” inquired Tom. “Fuck Mrs. K? I’m not saying I wouldn’t, but it’s kind of a messed up thing to say in his house.”
“Listen, moms are fair game as far as I’m concerned” Kyle declared, pulling a jug of lemonade out of the refrigerator and placing it on the kitchen table. “Hey, if any of you want to fuck my mom, knock yourselves out.”
“I’d rather run my dick through a meat grinder than fuck your mom,” Tom giggled, setting two glasses down on the table for his buddy to pour the drinks into.
Kyle rolled his eyes and flipped him the middle finger.
“And that’s easy to say when you don’t have a mom who looks like Mrs. K,” Tom told him. “I mean, I know she’s really hot, but it just doesn’t seem right.”
Kyle shot him a stunned look. “Really hot? Really hot!? She’s on a different level than really hot. She might be the sexiest chick I’ve ever seen.”
She wanted to run out of the pantry and hug this kid. No person in her life had ever made her feel more desired than this eighteen-year-old who was currently standing in her kitchen, and the craziest part was he didn’t even know it.
“That body is so tight and toned, but that ass is so fuckin’ fat,” Kyle continued while filling the two glasses on the table with the refreshing drink. “How’s that even possible? Dude, I almost bought her this hot as fuck workout outfit that Cindy wanted for Christmas last year.”
“I’m sure that would’ve went over well…” Tom sarcastically commented.
“No shit, right?” Kyle laughed. “I mean, she would’ve looked way better in it than Cindy, but I doubt Mr. K would’ve been too happy with my present.”
“That fuckin’ prick probably wouldn’t have even noticed,” Tom groaned with a disgusted tone to his voice. “And I’m totally with you when it comes to that asshole too. Mrs. K deserves better.”
Kyle threw his arms in the air. “Finally, dude! I’ve been saying that shit for years!”
“I know, but I’ve really noticed it the more we’ve started coming over here,” Tom explained himself. “The guy is always miserable. Like, what the fuck are you so pissed off about when your wife is a hot piece of ass?”
Kyle set his now empty glass down on the table to refill it. “I’m telling you, that guy is either gay, or he’s an awful fuck with a tiny dick, because no dude who is properly hittin’ a dime-piece like that would ever be upset about anything.”
She pondered Kyle’s last statement from her place hidden inside the kitchen pantry. Mike definitely wasn’t gay, and he didn’t have a tiny dick either. He didn’t exactly have a big dick, but it was adequate for the job. The awful fuck part had sadly become a reality, however. And that was during those rare occasions when he actually wanted to touch her.
“And you know she gives amazing head,” Kyle said.
Tom laughed as he picked up the lemonade jug to refill his now empty glass. “And you base that on what?”
“Her personality,” Kyle said. “Mrs. K is a giver, dude. All she does is go out of her way to do shit for other people. She’s one of those girls who loves to please. Just look at all the stuff she always buys for us when she goes grocery shopping.”
Tom nodded his head to consider what his friend was telling him.
“Do you think she’d be any different in bed?” Kyle went on. “She would do every little thing you ask. She would just want to make you happy. She’s dream wife material. I’m telling you, if any of the chicks at school were like her, I’d put a ring on ‘em right now.”
Jen felt a flutter inside her stomach. She just wanted to scream. She wanted to burst out of the pantry she was hiding in, leap into Kyle’s arms, and plant a big kiss right on his lips.
“Let me ask you an honest question,” Kyle said to his friend.
“Go ahead, shoot,” said Tom.
“How much trouble do you honestly think I would get in if the next time I saw Mrs. K here in the kitchen, I walked up behind her, and gave that big ass a squeeze?” Kyle asked with a smirk.
“I’m gonna say probably just a tad…” Tom laughed.
“Okay, so instead of that, how about I slide those yoga pants down, and bury my cock in her?” Kyle proposed.
Jen’s hand made its way down inside her spandex pants and began rubbing herself through her thong. For the second time today, she found herself masturbating in her kitchen.
Kyle had become lost in his own fantasy. “And after I pound the shit out of her for a while, she drops to her knees and sucks my dick.”
Tom raised his finger to his temple and pretended to ponder that unlikely scenario. “You know, part of me thinks that either Brett or Mr. K might have a little bit of a problem with that one…”
Jen bit down on her thumb, trying to stay quiet as she continued to rub her clit through the black nylon.
Kyle wasn’t holding back now. “And after I get done fucking that throat of hers, I blow my load all over that pretty face.”
“I know you’re a fan of those blue eyes,” Tom chucked as he grabbed both of the empty drinking glasses and walked them over to the dishwasher.
“I would glue those baby blues shut,” Kyle stated. There wasn’t much of a joking tone in his voice on that line. It’d been a fantasy of his for years at this point.
Tom strolled over to his Kyle and gave him a slap on the bac
k. “Well, you can continue jerking off to that fantasy because that’s exactly what it is, and what it will always be: a fantasy.”
“I know, dude…” Kyle sighed, his voice audibly dejected.
Tom threw his arm around his friend’s shoulder and walked him toward the backdoor. “How about I cheer you up by kicking your ass in a little game of pool basketball?”
“You’re on,” Kyle smiled.
The two friends opened the sliding glass door and made their way back outside.
She needed another few minutes of Kyle describing his fantasy to take her over-the-top; but just like everything else today, she didn’t get what she wanted. In a span of eight hours she’d masturbated in front of her son who luckily hadn’t noticed, and five or so feet away from two of his best friends while they discussed the dirty things they wanted to do to her. If she didn’t get some action tonight, then she didn’t know what she might do next.
Chapter 3 – A Good Guy
It was close to six o’clock when Jen pulled the lasagna out of the oven. Of course, traffic was backed up and it took extra long to get to the store. And who would’ve guessed that the cashier would have problems with the register, and he’d have to wait for the manager to come over and fix the issue? Everything went pretty much like she’d expected. They almost always ate dinner right at five-thirty, so she was curious as to why her husband still wasn’t home.
It took close to ten minutes to get a response, but Mike finally texted her back.
“Going to be at the office for a few more hours. Don’t wait on me.”
She shook her head before setting her phone down on the kitchen table. Had she really expected anything different on a day like today? But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. It assured that she would at least be able to make it through a meal without having to listen to insults being hurled her way.
She sauntered over to the stairs and shouted up to Brett’s room, “Dinner’s ready!”
Her son’s loud footsteps thundered throughout the ceiling as she heard him make his way across his bedroom floor before running down the steps in a hurried pace. As least someone was happy to see her today. Or maybe he was excited about her cooking? Either way, her favorite person in the world was about to join her.
He entered the kitchen and took a seat at his usual spot at the table. “No Dad?”
“Not tonight,” she responded, carrying a pan of lasagna over to the table with a pair of oven mitts.
He didn’t seem disappointed by the news of his father’s absence. In fact, he didn’t really appear to care at all; but then again, why would he? Brett loved sports, movies, and talking about pop culture and history. Mike only seemed interested in work related matters. Computer programming and the stock market aren’t high on the list of things most people want to discuss. Hell, she found herself having an extremely hard time listening to him ramble over the past few years. She loved talking to her son, but it was a different story when it came to conversing with her husband.
The teen plopped a big piece of lasagna on his plate before watching his mother cut a significantly smaller piece for herself. “So, Genghis Khan.”
“Ah!” she pointed at him. She quickly reached for her phone with a grin. She had done a little Mongolian research during the forty-five minute wait for dinner to cook in the oven.
Brett took a bite of his meal with a laugh. “Oh boy, someone came prepared…”
She scrolled to her notes app, and found the facts she’d prepared for this impending discussion. “You better believe it.”
“Let’s hear it,” he told his mother.
“So, first off, and this should really be the only thing necessary,” she said as she read off her first bullet point. “He was responsible for the deaths of as many as forty million people.”
“That’s bullshit,” he instantly rebuffed, waving his fork in disgust. “You can’t honestly believe that’s an accurate number. Look at how much shit the news gets wrong with current events, yet we’re supposed to believe that forty million is an accurate number? That was almost eight hundred years ago!”
“Twenty million, thirty million, forty million…is there really a difference at that point?” she asked.
He finished chewing his food before responding, “Listen, I’m not saying that he was a great guy. What I’m saying is that you need to look at what he did with a thirteenth century perspective. That’s the same argument people make about World War Two. Sure, almost all of it looks pretty fucked up through a twenty-first century mindset, but if you take yourself back to the early forties, it suddenly doesn’t seem all that crazy.”
“So, who else was killing millions of people back in the thirteenth century?”
He immediately shook his head after hearing that. It couldn’t have be any more obvious that he didn’t agree. “Who else was uniting tribes that were in a constant state of fighting? Who else brought women out of slavery and gave them rights? Who else made the silk road safe to bring trade throughout Asia and Europe? Who else during that time allowed people to peacefully surrender without being harmed?”
Jen still wasn’t buying any of that. “Okay, let’s say I go and do something which society deems wrong; however, personally, it’s something I don’t deem wrong. You’re saying who’s to decide whether it’s right or wrong?”
“Bingo!” he loudly verified. “The laws we use to govern society judge our actions, but what do we use to feel about things that don’t fall under legal jurisdiction?”
“Morals,” she answered.
“But morals are constantly changing,” he went on. “Twenty years ago almost everyone looked at gay marriage as something that was wrong and basically crazy. But now? It’s become a hugely accepted thing in society.”
“But it’s always been morally wrong to kill people regardless of what century it is,” she said while watching him lean over the table to scoop up another big piece of lasagna .
“Agreed, but life wasn’t as valued back then,” he responded, sitting back down in his seat. “Maybe forty million lives in the thirteenth century would be looked at as forty thousand now. And are those deaths really wrong if Khan believed what he was doing was for the greater good of his people?”
“I don’t know…” she muttered, poking at her dinner. “Morals are important to me.”
“I know they are, but what I’m saying is you could feel completely different morally about something twenty years from now; so, would you judge your actions today based on your moral values right now, or based on your morals twenty years down the road?”
She paused to consider his question. Her hesitation wasn’t helping her to think any clearer. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Exactly!” the high school senior exclaimed. “And that’s why history is so messed up. How can we judge people’s decisions and actions hundreds or even thousands of years ago, when we don’t even feel the same about things on a week-to-week basis?”
“So, what about—” she started before abruptly cutting herself off.
“No, go ahead,” he encouraged his mother to continue.
She took a deep breath before proceeding. “What about marriage? What if cheating isn’t deemed immoral twenty years from now? Would someone that does it now be wrong?”
Her son looked up from his plate, taking a moment to swallow the food in his mouth. “I think that’s similar to the gay marriage thing. I don’t think people look at cheating nearly as harshly as they did even back when I was a kid, so who’s to say it isn’t something that’s widely accepted in twenty years?”
“It all comes down to how you feel about it morally,” said Jen.
“You got it,” Brett nodded. “Just like Khan. He felt like what he was doing at the time was right, so he went ahead and did it. You only live once, you know? I wouldn’t want to not do something now because of societal pressure, and then look back when I’m an old man and regret it.”
He’d scarfed down his second piece of lasagna during their con
versation, and was already going back for number three. “Plus, in my opinion, marriage is a pretty archaic thing anyway,” he nonchalantly added.
“Excuse me?” she asked, eager to hear his eighteen-year-old logic on something he had zero experience with.
He pointed at her hand and questioned, “What does that really mean?”
“My ring?” she asked.
“Yeah, your ring.”
“It symbolizes my love and commitment to your father,” she explained.
“But why?” he asked.
“Why what?” she inquired, confused by his question.
“Why do you need a ring to show that you love someone?” he asked. “Shouldn’t two married people who truly love each other both already know it? Why does it matter that society can see you two are in love?”
“Um…I mean, I guess it’s part of tradition to show it,” she told him, not entirely sure if she was making any kind of point.
“It’s just like all that Valentine’s Day bullshit,” he said with a huff. “Last year, Tom started dating this chick at school. Come Valentine’s Day, he’s telling us how he spent hundreds of dollars on chocolate, and flowers, and earrings, and all kinds of dumb shit.”
All she’d received for Valentine’s Day was a tiny box of chocolates from the local drug store. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Mike had put zero thought into her gift. “That’s so sweet.”
“How’s that sweet?” Brett asked. “Because he bought a bunch of stuff on a day society tells him he’s supposed to? How could any girl possibly find that sweet? I straight up told Jessica that I don’t do any of those dumb holidays when we started dating last month. The fact that Valentine’s Day even exists is pretty demeaning toward women.”
Her eyebrows perked up at the sound of that. “Demeaning?”
“I would find it demeaning if I was a girl,” he continued. “Listen, if I do something for you today, or if I do the same exact thing for you on Mother’s Day, why would you look at it as more special on Mother’s Day? On Mother’s Day I’m doing it because I think I have to. If I do it today, it would be because I really want to.”