Mother's Boys

"Are we there yet?" yelled a boisterous 18-year-old as he tugged on the seatbelt that was starting to leave marks on his neck.

"Soon," replied a boy, merely a year older, as his impatient fingers rattled along the steering wheel. His entire body was clammy as he fidgeted around in his seat, trying to brush off his mild frustration. "Any minute now, honestly."

The younger boy let out the biggest sigh. If only he could leave the stuffy car. "Brenden - why are we going all the way to Sadlunt County, to Mom's?"

"Well, Cody, our asshole father left us with no home and our family back in Pentzille doesn't seem to care, so this is what's got to happen. It's best, especially for you."

Months ago, their father had let his alcoholism twirl out hand more intensely than ever before. Upon getting laid off at his job after he and his sister were witnessed destroying property during an eventful bar fight, their father had later become sober to find himself in a ten foot hole without a rope. Cody and Brenden found him desperately sucking money through any source - which would clearly never be repaid, the sources even being a thing known as "saved rent money." They couldn't help but notice the shameless, eventual disappearance of appliances, which were never of good quality to begin with, and just days before now the couch had been moved into a stranger's truck to be replaced by small bills. The food transformed into alcoholic beverages, the amount increasing with the more money their father became insensitive enough to leech. It was about nothing but affording the alcohol. And just the prior day, the eviction notice stamped onto the door had thrown their father into an abusive, furious rage, and it led to the end of the needle for their tolerance.

Brenden then told his brother, "I know we haven't seen her in quite a long time. But Mom and I talked yesterday; her house seems really nice, she has the next few months off, and she immediately accepted that we needed a place."

Cody was grinning a bit. He wasn't too proud of this car ride that seemed to last hours and the sharp changes of scenery that came with it; however, something in him blew a bubble of anticipation that couldn't be burst. That had been the consideration of being united with his mother. There was something about his mother that excited him, and he was unsure what - and it was quite strange, considering the fact that he hadn't been good around those he didn't know so well. It'd been a unique surge of energy and pleasure.

Within moments their feet reached the porch, and, abruptly after Brenden had knocked, the large door had been opened to reveal a boy who stood between their heights, with hands covered in beautifully scented body oil and a blemish that appeared to be a minor burn from the flicker of a candle. He politely nodded his head to compensate for him gasping for breath, presumably from sprinting across the large home to open the door. His voice was slow and calmed when he inquired, "You're here for Mother, right?" He anxiously swept feathered ash brown bangs from his eyes. "She's spoken about you. Please, come in."

The 5'5, tender boy carefully led them through the shiny, nearly perfect, warm interior, while a firm woman's voice rang from the upstairs along with the clack of heels on the smooth floor. As the woman approached them from the staircase, the boy secured his hands behind his back and stood straight.

You could tell she'd just now gotten dressed, in an outfit meant to impress although it was only to leave the bedroom, long legs defined by elegant boots and perky breasts just barely peering from the low collar of her blouse. She'd been cleaner than an angel, her hair glossier than her lips and her skin softer, shinier than gold with a trailing scent of lavender and coconut. The sound of her stamping heels hitting the floor was mesmerizing, alike her tone which demanded, "Brady?"

"Right here, Mother. The knock on the door was Brenden and Cody."

"Good boy." His mother smiled, nuzzling closely to him and leaning down to whisper warmly into his neck as she drifted a hand down to palm the stiffening erection through his pants. "Go wash the massage oil off your hands, then mop up their sneaker trail in the entrance way and change Mother's bedding and put the candles out while I settle your brothers in. If you do a favorable job, little pervert, the massage will continue at midnight, and I may just let you sink your oily hands into the ass you've been craving so patiently."