Seth Bean came from school the same time he always did. His mother noted that as she called out a welcome to him and listened to his heavy footfalls as he jogged up the stairs. She smiled. Seth was such a good boy; a godsend after the contentious divorce she'd had to endure. He would graduate this year, was a straight A student and loved to play basketball with his friends. Best of all, he cleaned up his room without asking and helped her whenever she needed it.
In fact, she needed to ask him to do a favor. Their neighbor, Mr. Greenwalt, needed a trunk brought down from his attic and Myrna had volunteered Sean for the job. She wiped her hands on her apron, turned her chicken rigatoni down and went to the bottom of the stairs.
"Sean! Can you come down here, please?"
Myrna waited but she didn't receive the normal response from him. Maybe he had his door closed or was listening to music. Since she'd bought him that MP3 player, she'd sometimes had to go all the way up the stairs to his room to get his attention. She sighed, mounting the stairs. She'd have to do it again and her bunion was complaining.
"Goddammit! Sean!"
She climbed the stairs, favoring the injured foot and rested on the landing, wincing at the pain. She heard music. She knew the band well; lately, he'd been obsessed with Franz Ferdinand and played their new album over and over again. Under the beat of drums and screech of guitars, she heard something else. Something without a rhythm; something that didn't match the music. It sounded like ... creaking bedsprings.
"Sean?" She didn't call as loudly now. Sean was eighteen and well on his way to becoming a man and she knew that he masturbated occasionally in the shower. She didn't want to disturb him if that was the case but her special mother's sense told her that something wasn't right. "Sean, I need you to do me a favor."
She stepped closer and closer, the music growing in volume and the sounds increasing in rapidity and pitch. Her shaking hand reached the doorknob and she grasped it, giving it an easy turn. "Sean?"
The sight that met her eyes was one that Myrna Bean would never forget. Her son's room was in its usual state of disarray. Posters of Jennifer Garner and Jessica Alba were taped on the walls along with half-naked anime women. And her son was on the bed, naked. His strong legs straddled something, his hips flexing and his back muscles rippling. Myrna took one small step sideways, her eyes widening. Underneath her son's body were a pair of perfect breasts and he was holding them together as he thrust his cock between them.
