Taking the Edge Off

It startled Michael to hear his mother refer to any woman as a fuck toy. Losing himself in a figgy daze, he wondered from the back of his mind if she knew she was jerking him so slowly to full hardness, or that she was giving her own son the most casual and erotic hand job. Her own son…

‘Is this right? I’m sure this is wrong,’ Michael interrupted the growing silence.

‘Well people will tell you that it’s wrong, but if a mother can’t teach her son about the birds and the bees, and how to respect women, then who can?’

‘But I already know-

‘Oh but would you dare treat your mother like some throwaway slut?’

‘Mom,’ he scolded again.

‘Well, would you?’ Karen asked.

‘Of course not, but you’re my mother. I’m not…’

‘What?’

‘Seeing you.’

‘Don’t you mean fucking me?’ she suggested.

‘Well duh!’

‘Why duh?’

‘I mean duh why would I be fucking my own mother?’

‘But you and other women are different,’ Michael stammered. His knees jerked underneath him. God that felt too good. The fact that it felt good at all scared him. It was wrong on so many levels.