Slippery Love

Joseph Roswell was an ordinary boy. He wasn't a jock, the valedictorian, or the cool kid who had the best parties after the football game. He had wanted to be an astronaut or a millionaire or a famous singer when he was little, but he would never be those things.

Life wasn't cruel to him -- just mundane. He knew he wasn't going to be able to woo and screw a beautiful energetic and or better yet, a pathologically adventurous girl. Girls were a mystery he would never understand.

He wasn't a total idiot about the fairer sex. He had his mother as an opposite sex influence. She was both popular and socially acceptable with her peers. It was a shame he was more like his father, shy uninteresting and verging on the edge of social suicidal boredom.

Some of the things life hands out can never be said no too, and other things -- even dirty evil twisted things -- might be fate or destiny. Joseph wasn't looking for it so when fate found him and turned the mundane into Midas gold he didn't understand what was going on. Fate played her meanest trick and slammed her fist inside his unimaginative brain, like a female welding a shovel smashing her chosen mate over the head to claim her rites.

It's a challenge to find love in the endless monotony of living one's life, but Joseph never knew he had choices. His choices may have been skewed according to some people's sense or normalcy or the common lifestyle, but he knew his choices. His mother, and even his father couldn't be blamed. It was just a choice. A simple catalytic choice. One that had to be made. His own eagerness may have been that catalyst, but the choice was his alone - to bear or live with or be a part of his choice, so he took the opportunity when life gave it to him. He chose to be happy instead of mundane.

It may have started earlier it may have been innate, but the first vivid memory of unique hardening desire was set in stone inside Joseph's complex little mind the day he came home a week after his eighteenth birthday. His mother was the gentle one, a woman who could have fulfilled any boy's desperate little boyish needs. A mother who gave attention and affection. A woman who gave him unconditional love - love to a point. Before that day it wasn't a sexual love in form or deed, but rather emotional psychological mothering love, given from the great well that gentle souls possess but never allow others to fill for them.

He had decided to skip out of school early to get in a few more hours of World of Warcraft, or WOW as he and his online playing buddies dubbed the fantasy role playing game. It was the day he found out his mother's indiscretions. The day his mother changed his cognitive perception of life forever. It wasn't a nightmarish dream or an angry path to discord between mother and son, it was -- just a catalyst. A catalyst that transformed tempered and evolved his capacity to find love in the oddest of places, even if that love would conventionally be deemed - well gross may be the term some may use.

He was sitting on the couch mesmerized by the large flat television screen, his ear plug/mini mic turned all the way up so he didn't notice when her room door opened. He barely noticed when she walked across the room as nonchalant as a runway model changing backstage. But, when she crossed in front of his vision he couldn't help following the nude female form glistening from the sweat of sex, her damp hair clinging to her forehead her chest still heaving from exertion, her breathing shallow with pants of quick air trying to find its balance and give her brain and heart a chance to calm again. Even if she was his mother, he had to admit she was - well ... really fucking hot!

Her legs were unsteady and she exaggerated each step, a careful placement of toe which let foot settle as ankle holds the body up and legs steady the sway of hips. Her pussy was aquiver in her pubic bush, like a rabbit wiggling in the wheat. She looked -- satisfied -- would be the best word, and dripped with both post coitious white sperm and a clear feminine secretion that commingled and ran down her legs. The smell of spent lust filled the large room with its damp greedy scent.

Joseph had never seen his mother naked before and the sight caused happiness rather than despair. He was a normal hormonal teenager after all, but the beauty he found made him want, made him desire to seek answers, and would shape his mental streams of unconscious reality for the rest of his life. The dripping sex held him spellbound, and though his mother stopped and stared not believing her infidelity had been found out, Joseph didn't run. He stared ... mute, his mind a whirl of changing flashes, memorizing her look, her motion, her scent, until his mother's petrified moment passed and she looked away heading quickly into the kitchen.

That's when Joseph heard another noise - a grunt of shock, the deep utterance of a satisfied male. He wanted to believe it was his father, but knew that wasn't happening, and when he turned to see who had made the noise, he was indeed shocked. His mouth dropped open with unbelief and the starting tremors of real fear crept into his heart.

The large tall muscular black man that stepped through his parent's bedroom door wasn't intimidating with the gruff disdain his father always showed, but his presence was a complete and utter difference, a new dimension of marital fidelity now twisted its thoughts and ideas into Joseph's view of the world. The big black man huffed again expelling a heady masculine air, a satisfied air commanding his presence, making the world shape its weaves around him rather than gathering him in its folds to make him do its bidding.

"You must be, Joe," the large black man said after a moment. "It's nice to meet you. Your mother speaks highly of you, if you must know."

Joseph could only nod. He closed his mouth with a snap, teeth finding teeth his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his cock hard for some unknown reason. He bobbed his head looking from the black man's face to his massive long cock, swollen and slick with his mother's orgasm. "Yeah, same here," he finally mumbled.

The large black man laughed knowing this wasn't the truth, and finding Joseph unimportant followed his mother into the kitchen. They chatted for a few minutes their voices audible their conversation indiscernible, and then he walked past a silent young man who could hardly belief what he was witnessing.

The black man sauntered back into his parent's bedroom, came out a few minutes latter dressed, and was out the front door in minutes. Joseph waited for his mother to explain.

When she finally came back into the living room she just gave him a serious calculating look. "I've talked it over with your father, honey. There isn't anything else to be said."

"Okay," the young man mumbled. He couldn't take his eyes off the come filled dripping hairy pussy of his mother.

"What are you staring at, Joe?" his mother asked.

"Nothing," he blushed quickly tearing his eyes from her pussy to look her in the face.

She sighed and gave him a sad smile. "Love can be found in many ways, Joe. You must have known that your father and I haven't been very happy these past few years."

"Sure. I know, but I never expected to find out you were cheating on him."

"It's not cheating if you both agree to let the other seek love in other places. I needed this Joe, like a dry cracked stream bed needs the rain."

Joseph felt his eyes travel down her body to lock on the unbelievably sexy sight of her pussy. The post sex liquid was evident and smeared in the tangled brier of her pubic hair, and instinctively his licked his lips.

She never told him why she did it. Maybe she wanted for him to understand better. Maybe she knew him better than he knew himself, but all the same she did place two fingers in her come filled sex, and coating them with her creampie offered the creamy delight for him to sample.

He hesitated before he took them in his mouth, and after he cleaned them was finally able to look her in the face again. "I'm sorry, mom."

"Don't be honey. I love you, and I want you to be happy. It tastes good doesn't it?"

He nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I'll try and be more modest from now on. Okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled, and reddening into a deep embarrassment turned back to play his game.

With one final sad look his mother shook her head and went into her room. Joseph heard her shower turn on and finding his legs still worked sought his own room, a cave to figure out the reality he was now faced with. Not finding reason or answers, he opened his jeans pulled down his underwear and masturbated until he came in a sweaty post pubescent ball of guilt, daydreaming about the large black man's massive cock furiously fucking his mother, her long slender white legs with curled pink painted toenails clinching, her mouth open uttering begging gasps as she received her black lover's masculine domination of her sex.

His mother didn't talk to him about what he'd witnessed, and he didn't see the black man again. When his parents sought a divorce several months later, he chose to go live with his mother rather than stay with the brooding unforgiving and emotionally brutal father he'd been living with since birth.

The fresh start was great, and though they never discussed the scene Joseph had seen, his mother was as before, the gentle loving and emotionally available confidant he had always know. She was equally able to find her son's faults dismissive, as well as sing his triumphs laudable, as any true loving adoring mother must.

He never saw his mother naked again, but his masturbation fantasies always included her with large black men fucking her furiously, the joy of post coital union he'd first scene when she exited her room was a memory he seared into his impressionable mind. The taste of sperm filled pussy was burned into his subconscious forever.

They moved to the small town of Willows, California. The weather helped his mother come to terms with her divorce. It was beautiful and lovely all year round. Their first night at their new home was enjoyable if quiet. His mother took him out for dinner and plied him with sweat talk explaining in giddy detail how wonderful life would be without an overbearing husband and father in the picture.

He loved his mother for her kind words and generosity. She showered him with gifts of new clothes, a computer that worked, and a room filled with the essential necessities a teenage boy gravely needed, but had been denied to him by his father. Life felt right. Life was full of hope, life would be alright in this new town, this new reality, this new chance to grow and be a real person.

Joseph took the move in stride, but was apprehensive about going to a new school as a senior. High school had been a mess for him in the large robotic schools Texas had built in the growing towns west of Houston, and though anonymity didn't exist in a smaller school, he felt ready to deal with his young life. He found an untapped resource, a vengeance for independence, and rather than giving in to the inevitable fated loneliness as he'd previously displayed in Texas, he felt he could use this change in venue to his advantage and reinvent his high school persona. The fresh start for him and his mother was a new lease on life, a chance to make his name and find his place in the torrential world which is high school.

But, a geek or a nerd was always a geek or a nerd. When he found his every day life at school the dull indifferent place it had always been, he wanted to despair, until he found a mutually unhappy friend in Max Dixon.

They bonded as male teenagers will do; us against them, maybe we can survive and live through it, maybe we will finish college make a lot of money and marry the cheerleader we lust after. It was the rampant neglect way high school always inflicts on those who aren't "in the clique".

Twelfth grade began and the hormones and private masturbation fantasies Joseph secretly had shifted from his mother to the pretty girls he desperately wanted to fuck. One day he chose to give into his sexual need. He decided to give it a go, throw caution to the wind, and fix the unpopular stigma of virginity no matter what it took.

Again fate made her distant and mysterious existence known to him, she appeared as a beautiful petite nymphet - a goddess in the guise of the tragically infamous high school slut, Cynthia Whitaker. She was the girl the class voted 'most likely to become a prostitute'.

Joseph told Max one day on the quad, while they were eating lunch and looking about to make sure the insolent stupid football jocks didn't seek up and humiliate them again, that he had decided to lose his virginity. Max was silent for a moment taking his offhand comment at face value. Being a true friend he suggested he should help Joseph formulate a plan to solve his dilemma.

It took several lunch conversations, a few weeks of unsuccessful internet searching, and after what seemed an eternity but was really a matter of sifting through no way's, are you fucking crazy's, and Oh my God I fucking wish, Max suggested that Joseph ask Cynthia Whitaker out on a date and take care of the monumental "problem" a geek or nerd almost never conquered in high school, losing his virginity.

At first he didn't like the idea of asking the class slut out on a date. After several heated and convoluted text messages his courage won over his thoughts of certain embarrassment, and Joesph conceded letting the rational steadfast belief Max used to convince him that if he wanted to get laid, Cynthia Whitaker would be his best bet, his only chance, the time was now or never, and if he didn't get laid before homecoming he'd never have a chance after Christmas when prom was all any girl could think about. It was now with Cynthia or wait to find a willing drunk freshman in college. Max's reasoning seemed sound, so Joseph took a deep breath found a solid nerve to stand on and went in search of his fate.

It took him another two days and the feeble hours during first second and third periods, throwing up and fending off questions with the school nurse, before he snapped out of his fear and found enough nerve to call her. He was very relieved when she said she would go out with him that Friday night. She told him she had something else she had to do earlier that night, but that Joseph should pick her up at her house at ten.

"So Max tells me you want to lose your virginity, is that right?" she asked.

"Max told you?"

"He's not the coward I always pegged him as," she laughed, "and I must admit once I took notice of you, I think you're cute. We should have fun."

"Yes, we should," Joseph stammered, disbelieving his luck but trying hard not to fuck up the chance she was offering him, despite his cowardly behavior.

"See at ten on Friday, my sweet little virgin," she said, and hung up.

Joseph called Max and told him the good news. His friend congratulated him for no longer being a sissy coward, and told him to do the deed in the backseat of his car like everyone else did.

"Just drive out to the old parking lot behind the baseball field and get her in the backseat and you'll get laid."

Joseph couldn't believe what Max was telling him, but stomped on his inhibitions and strove to find a spine, after all Cynthia Whitaker had said yes. "You mean all I have to do is take her parking and I'll get laid?"

"Yep, she knows what you want, so there's no point wasting time going to the movies or taking her to dinner or anything boringly romantic like that. She's meeting you at ten, must have a family commitment or something like that. Just take her out and fuck her."

Joseph wasn't sure about the idea of just taking her parking, but he was dumb and desperate like any virgin nerdy teenager. He didn't want to complicate things too much. He decided to ask her what she wanted to do when she was in his car.

The week seemed to never end. Joseph let his fantasies roam free. He even dreamed about fucking her in the principle's office with Mrs. Brown watching them greedily, the older woman's sexy body sitting with her legs spread over her stuffed office chair, her ridged matronly skirt pulled up, panties pulled aside with her fingers furiously finger fucking her hairy old cunt. He came so hard he hit himself in the face after that one.

Friday finally arrived. Joseph was so excited he had to force his hands away from his cock every few minutes throughout the long laborious day. He kept telling his libido the shut the fuck up and not fuck up his first chance to have sex with a girl. But, a limp dick is hard to achieve when your eighteen, a noticeable hard-on followed him every where he want that day, and though he heard snickers behind his back and his face felt like it was on fire with embarrassment the whole agonizingly-second-counting day; he prevailed, stayed focused and even felt he'd done well on his chemistry exam, placing the test on Mr. Howitzer's desk right before the bell rang for dismissal.

He drove home without crashing into anyone, took a shower, gulped down an early dinner, and searched through his closet for the best "first big date" look he could come up with. He paced, staying in his room and avoided his mother, counting the long drawn out minutes until his clock said nine-forty-five. He had just retied his shoes and was about to leave when his mother opened his door and gave him a look.

"What's going on, honey?" she asked. "I've never seen you act like this."

"I have a date," he blurted, flushing red with his eagerness and having to confide in his mother about something so personal, but she smiled gave him a shrug and let him be, closing the door behind her. "It's about time," he heard her say under her breath.

Joseph's nervous hands felt sweaty, the cold clammed feeling of uncertainty, when his Corolla found the curb in front of Cynthia Whitaker's house one minute to ten. The lights were all out, and when he rang the doorbell no one answered. She wasn't home. Fuck, I'm such a stupid idiot, he thought, racking his brain for an explanation.

Finding nothing better to do he sat in his car, miserable pathetic and close to tears, wondering why Cynthia Whitaker would stand him up. Hope wormed its serpentine head back into his heart when five minutes later a car pulled up behind him, and Cynthia's smooth pale short nimble legs slipped out of the passenger seat. She drug her body out trailed by a boy who wouldn't stop kissing her until she slammed his car door in his face. The car pulled away and Joseph stepped out of his car, as nervous as a new born calf. He walked around his car to meet her on the sidewalk.

She finally saw him standing there and said, "Great - you're here. Well, I'm ready so let's go." Her irritation was present in waves, but Joseph took a deep breath, plunged into deep water, and opened the door for her to slip into his car. As he closed the door he looked to heaven, said a silent thank you, and ran around the car to get in before she could change her mind.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked once he'd slammed his door with too much eager force. His nervousness continued and he turned the ignition twice making the engine grind and the window wipers sweep none existence rain drops from the dry windshield before he got the car started. It made her laugh, and Joseph turned to look at her hoping the laugh was genuine rather than a slanted look of pathetic disdain, like most the girls at school gave him.

"Don't you want to know who that was that just dropped me off?" Cynthia asked, looking at him with appraising eyes. She touched his hand making him jump. She really laughed then, but calmed quickly, her smile and the question still waiting for his answer.