Confessions Of A Guilty Mom Ch 01

Author's Note: This is a continuation of my One Last Cigarette story, and part of my Smoking Family Affairs universe. This "episode" can stand alone, but is better understood and appreciated after reading those three chapters.

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Judy Mason paced around her kitchen, drinking a martini and chain-smoking, trying to screw up the nerve to call her ex-husband. It was nearly 5:00 on a Saturday, and she was desperate. She and her 18-year-old son had masturbated together the previous day. In fact, the boy had gotten himself off three times, including once when he finished his chores after school, all while she watched him and pleasured herself. It had been fabulous, naughty fun. But now she was dealing with an epic case of "the guilts".

The pretty brunette drained the last of her cocktail, then splashed in the last of the bottle of Grey Goose in the freezer. She lit a fresh Marlboro Light 100 from the smoldering butt of her last one, then glanced at her cell phone for the eleventh time in the past hour, as if Jack would magically call her. Which was, of course, silly.

The couple had divorced three years earlier. Irreconcilable differences, it said on their divorce papers. The two had tried to work through their issues, marriage counseling and all. Ultimately, they had decided to split. It had been amicable enough. Surprisingly, after the papers were finalized, their relationship had begun to thrive again. Without the pressure of having to answer to each other for everything, they had reverted back to being friends, as they had started out.

Friends with occasional benefits, Judy smirked to herself as she sucked on her smoldering cylinder. Drawing the delicious smoke deep into her lungs, the woman remembered having paid her husband several "booty calls" in the months after the divorce, usually when she was lonely and horny, only when she was drinking. Like now.

She was fairly drunk, but the adrenaline and anxiety kept her on the edge and at least semi-coherent. So the thought of a sexual encounter with her ex was the last thing on her mind at the moment. Well, she had to admit, maybe it was second to last...

The two best things about their marriage had been their sex life and their ability to be completely open and honest with each other, about even the most sensitive or embarrassing topics. Jack was literally the only person she knew that she could confide in about her present dilemma. She certainly couldn't tell any of her girlfriends, and she would die before she confided in her own mother or father.

Another sip of her martini and a double pump on her cigarette steeled the 40-something, and she punched in her ex-husband's number. She closed her eyes and counted the rings as she blew out a slowly swirling cloud.

The man answered after the fourth ring. "Hey, Jude. What's up?" came his friendly baritone voice.

The woman sighed in relief. "Hi, Jack, it's me," she replied unnecessarily.

Her ex-husband chuckled, noting the slight slur in her greeting. "Yes, I'm aware. Caller ID, dontcha know. So. What's up?" he repeated.

"Well, I, uh... Am I interrupting anything?"

Jack shook his head no through the invisible cell phone transmission. "Not at the moment, no."

"Okay," Judy sighed again before taking another quick drag on her all-white Marlboro. She inhaled, then continued. "Well, Jack, I... I really need to talk to someone. And honestly, you're the only one I think I can talk to about this."

Her ex took a deep breath and blew it out loudly enough for her to hear. "Wow. Must be serious," he chided, although he heard the tension in her voice. And he felt a sense of pride at still being her go-to for delicate matters. "So...?"

Judy took another nervous hit on her quickly-dwindling cigarette. "Well, I, uh... I'd really rather talk in person. Can you come over?" she asked, smoke wafting out of her strained mouth.

"What, like now?" He ground his teeth together. He didn't have any serious plans for the evening, but he also wasn't in the mood for drama.

"Well, tonight, maybe? Or, yeah, now would be great, if you could, please?" she almost whined. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Or if you were sober, her ex thought to himself. But it was true. He knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn't bother him with a trivial matter. At least, not since their divorce.

Judy polished off the last of her vodka while waiting anxiously for his decision, then sucked down half of her remaining Marlboro.

Jack frowned, but then heard Judy exhale what was surely a chest-full of smoke. "Okay. Just... let me run through the shower and I'll head over, alright?"

His more-than-tipsy ex-wife replied mischievously, "Don't worry about that. You know I love your smell. But could you please pick up some..."

"Grey Goose?"

Judy laughed. "You know me too well, Jack. And maybe--"

"Cigarettes? Fine. Anything else? Eggs, milk, bread?" he teased.

"No, no, nothing else." She took a final puff. She DID need eggs. And milk. And... No, let's not push our luck, she chastised herself. "Just my vices, please. And you. Thank you so much, hun. See you soon. Bye."

She hung up before he could respond and immediately lit a fresh cigarette, slumping down into a kitchen chair. The pretty, busty brunette looked at her into martini glass and ground her teeth together. Please hurry up, Jack, she thought. I NEED you.

On his end, Jack put his phone down, shook his head, and silently his ex-wife. He hated that she could still have this effect on him, that he was still, at least somewhat, wrapped around her little finger.

And he REALLY hated the fact that he was out the door two minutes later...

Jack knocked on the front door of his former home twenty minutes after hanging up with his ex-wife, a large brown bag at his feet. She opened the door a mere moment later, having been watching through the front window, anxious for his arrival.

"Hey, Jack," she smiled crookedly before giving him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, her standard greeting ever since their divorce. "Thank you for coming over on such short notice. Come on in."

He picked up the bag and followed her through the doorway, through the front hallway, pass to the living room and into the kitchen. The handsome 44-year-old shook his head on the short journey. Virtually everything looked the same as when he had lived here. The only noticeable difference was that he wasn't in any of the family photos hung on the walls.

He placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter next to the stove and to begin unloading it. He handed her one of the two packs of Marlboro Light 100s that he had bought for her. Judy smiled as she took it from him, her hand lingering on his for just a moment before tapping the packet on the counter and quickly opening it.

"So. It's serious, isn't it?" Jack asked as he pulled out one of the two bottles of Grey Goose vodka.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," his ex frowned. She extracted a long, all-white cylinder from the box and placed it between her pouty lips, looking at him expectantly.

Her ex rolled his eyes dramatically, then pulled his Bic out and flicked it on for her. She held his hand in both of hers and kept her eyes on his as she puffed it to life. She proceeded to take a cheek-hollowing drag and breathe the smoke deep into her ample chest.

"Thanks, hun. For everything." She blew an elegant plume up towards the ceiling.

The man nodded, the irony of the act striking him again. Judy had never had a cigarette in her life before they met. Disliked smoking, even. But after one drunken argument, she had swiped his Marlboro Light shorts as he stalked off to the bedroom. The woman had gone downstairs and tried her first one, primarily out of spite. When they made up the following morning, she admitted to her smoking experiment and said that she had enjoyed the buzz that he gave her. After that, she would enjoy one or two when they were drinking. Having surmised her husband's smoking fetish from his stares at her pretty smoking girlfriends, Judy learned to enjoy the extra attention he paid to her when she was enjoying a cigarette. And she had to admit that she just plain liked smoking, although it never became an addiction for her.

Jack, feeling his cock stirring in his khaki shorts, glanced down from her face at her "outfit". He chuckled. "You still wear that old thing?"

His ex-wife looked down at the worn and fraying chambray shirt that used to belong to him. "Oh! Yeah. It's still the most comfortable thing I have," she shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, as if she hadn't intentionally thrown on his once-favorite shirt over just a pair of white panties. It's the only thing I have left of YOU, she thought sadly. Then she pulled open the freezer and grabbed the cocktail shaker, handing it to him, along with the ice tray.

Five minutes later, the former couple sat down at the oak kitchen table they had found together at an estate sale early in their marriage. They each took swigs of their dirty martinis and lit fresh cigarettes. "So. You ever gonna tell me what I'm doing over here?" Jack jabbed lightheartedly.

"What, you don't normally want to spend Saturday night with your ex-wife?" she quipped before sucking on her long, all-white Marlboro. "But seriously," she began before exhaling her smoke, "I... well, I did something that I shouldn't have done yesterday. Something bad. And I guess I just need to... get it off my chest."

Her ex smirked as he looked pointedly down at her bosom. "Must be something REALLY big, then," he joked.

"Ha ha. Pervert."

"That's why you married me," he countered playfully.

"Only partly. I also needed you to fix the toilet and mow the lawn. No, come on, Jack, this is SERIOUS."

He nodded solemnly, dropping the stand-up act. "Okay. Where is Cal, anyway?"

"Out with his girlfriend. Said he might be late." Noticing the look of concern on Jack's face, Judy added, "Don't worry, she's driving."

She gulped at her cocktail, then took another pull from her half-spent cigarette. Jack followed suite, trying to remain patient.

"Well, I... it's... it's BAD, Jack." Creamy white vapor trailed from her mouth with every word before she sighed the remainder out.

He noticed her eyes start to well up with tears as she turned her head to take another swig of her drink. The gravity of the situation suddenly hit him, and the humor drained out of him, along with the blood in his face. He reached over and took her free hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, hun. You know you can tell me anything."

She smiled at him gratefully, squeezing back, but holding on to his hand. "I know, Jack. That's why I called you." That's why I still love you, she thought, melancholy.

She cleared her throat and shook her head. "I... I hope you won't hate me, but... I did something yesterday. With Cal."

Jack's head rocked back as if he'd taken a sucker punch. "Oh. Okay." His stomach suddenly knotted up, and he took a pull on his own cigarette. "I'm here now," he managed, indicating his full attention. "Go ahead. Tell me."

"Well, it all started normally yesterday morning. Cal was running late for school as usual..."

The anxious, but drunk-enough, mother spent the next fifteen minutes, a refill, and two more cigarettes, relating the story of her illicit masturbation encounter with their 18-year-old son. Jack, for his part, remained silent, both stunned and weirdly aroused at the revelation. He had slogged through puberty with the help of fantasies about his own mother.

After she had reached the explosive climax of her confession, the pair sat silently for a moment as Jack tried to process the information. He simply didn't know how. On the one hand, he was shocked and mortified. Not at his son's actions, but his ex-wife's REACTIONS. On the other hand, he was having trouble reconciling his feelings of arousal, and even jealousy. Lucky little bastard, he thought, then mentally lashed himself for such a crude and and appropriate thought.

"Okay. Well," he managed. "That's, uh... that's... quite a story."

He stood up, grabbed their empty martini glasses, and stepped over to the kitchen counter to prep refills for both of them. He was now convinced they both needed to be hammered.

"I know, I know," Judy whimpered, on the verge of melting down again. "Do you hate me, Jack?"

The father kept his voice as calm and steady as possible as he finished making their drinks. "No. No, I don't hate you, Judy. I just... I just can't wrap my HEAD around that. I mean, I can't believe that Cal had the balls-- no pun intended-- to pull something like that. But I'm even MORE shocked that you would encourage him like that."

"Me too! Believe me. I have no idea what came over me. I just... I guess I was just flattered that he thought about me that way. And, well, to be honest, men haven't exactly been lining up around the block to date me."

Her ex placed their drinks onto the kitchen table before taking his seat again. Well, you just told me that your SON came all over you, he thought, conflicted. Judy took a swig, then stuck another Marlboro Light 100 between her lips, and he solemnly lit it for her.

Then he regarded her with a mix of disdain and amusement. "So you're saying you were horny enough to masturbate with your own son?" he stabbed, immediately regretting it.

"I know, I KNOW! I'm a horrible mother, a monster! Don't you think I know that already? I hardly slept a wink last night and have been barely functional all day."

They each gulped at their drinks, studying the slender-stemmed glasses rather than each other.

"So?" Judy ventured finally, bracing for an onslaught of judgment and acrimony.

Cal took a final draw on his butt and crushed it out. "So what?" he began, huffing the smoke out. "The guillotine? Public hanging? Burned at the stake? What are you expecting?"

Judy regarded him, puzzled at his response. She gulped at her cocktail, then took a thoughtful drag from her cigarette and inhaled. "Well, at the moment, any or all of those feel appropriate." She looked at her ex stone-faced while exhaling the remainder of her smoke.

The handsome, slightly rugged-looking man took a deep breath, then wooshed it out. He reached out and held her free hand again. Judy looked at him like a remorseful puppy who had just chewed up the sofa.

"Honey, I..." he began tentatively. Then he shrugged. "I appreciate you confiding in me. I know that was terribly hard for you. But I... I don't think it's THAT bad, to be honest with you."

His pretty (and pretty inebriated) ex blinked at him a couple times, as if there had been a short circuit in her brain. "What?"

He chuckled, hoping to dispel at least some of the tension. "I don't think it's that BAD. Seriously."

The confused woman took another puff on her cigarette. "You're kidding me, right? Just being polite because I used to be your wife and I had your kids? Seriously, Jack, lay it on me. I deserve it."

He pursed his lips and grinned lightly, amused. "Honey, I don't know what came over you, either. Obviously a combination of things. But it's not like you raped him. I... think it was a bit of pretty harmless fun myself. And knowing that little horndog, it might have been the best thing ever to happen to HIM. And frankly, if you enjoyed it as well, then so what? You and I used to masturbate together once in awhile..."

"That's not the same thing at all and you know it!" Judy's body slowly unwound itself from the pretzel it had become, sensing an undeserved reprieve.

The man nodded in confirmation. "You're right. It's not. I'm sorry I made that comparison. But again... I mean, what harm did it cause?"

The busty mom glared at him for a moment. Then she sighed and studied her nearly-spent Marlboro. "It made a hell of a mess on the floor for one thing."

Jack laughed wholeheartedly. "Well, yeah, but didn't you say he mopped it up later?"

"That's not the point," she growled, her fear and shame evolving into shared amusement. "But... it was a REALLY BIG PUDDLE!"

"Which time?" he countered wryly.

Judy grabbed her half empty pack of cigarettes and tossed it at his face, where he knocked it aside. "Asshole," she half-grinned, half-scowled.

"That's why you divorced me."

Picking up the joke from earlier, she snidely commented, "Not entirely. You'd already taught me how to fix the toilet, and Cal could mow the lawn, so I didn't need you anymore, did I?"

Her ex did not find that funny. The wounded look on his face as he turned away and drained the rest of his martini hurt Judy, as well. He pulled his hand away from her, but she grabbed it again. "I'm sorry, Jack. That was really cruel, and I didn't mean it. The truth is, I... I STILL need you. I still... WANT you. Sometimes."

Jack glowered at her, his anger and heating up. "Don't. Don't you dare do that to me," he said, fighting himself. "You know how unfair that is. YOU were the one who filed for divorce, not me."

Judy looked at him, heartbroken. "I know. You're right, I'm sorry."

She lit yet another cigarette and left it in her mouth. Then she swallowed hard and looked down to begin unbuttoning his old fraying, chambray shirt. She knew how to make amends. How to make it better.

"But it's the truth, Jack," she continued as she reached the third button, the long Marlboro bobbing up and down between her lips. "I'm not saying we-- that *I* made a mistake. Maybe I did. Or maybe it just needed to be done. I don't know. But I do know I still love you. I still need you sometimes. And I know that I WANT you so badly right now."

Cal just stared at her slack-jawed as she finished undoing her nightshirt. When she was done, she looked back up at him and took a long, purposefully seductive drag, then performed a flawless French inhale that she knew always drove him wild. The pretty brunette pulled the shirt wide open to fully reveal her fabulous DD breasts and blew her smoke directly in his face. He blinked it out, but remains silent.

"Make love to me, Jack. I want you to. I NEED you to. And I think you need it, too..."