I guess I was normal in high school. I had a bunch of buddies that I hung out with. There were the standard social events, but there was one event that really changed my life during this period. My dad died in a car crash. My mom and I were devastated. Fortunately for us, my dad had a ton of insurance, so mom could pay off the house and she didn't have to get a job for us to get by. It was a nice house actually. It had several bedrooms and even had an in-ground pool in the back yard. Compared to other families, we were pretty well off. Even with the comfort that he left for mom and me, there was that gap in the household with dad's passing.
I buried myself in school friends and activities. I was pretty good on the baseball field and I owned first base. All of those activities and the pleasures they offered were wiped out when I returned home each afternoon. My mom was depressed at loosing dad and she just couldn't seem to break out of it. Each night I'd go to bed in the room next to her bedroom -- the room she'd shared with my dad -- and I'd hear her sobbing. It was at least six months before the crying stopped and she seemed to be feeling better.
I didn't know how to support her in this period of our lives. I did the obvious and told her to get out of the house and do stuff. She finally took that advice and started to socialize with three women she'd met at a grief support group. Soon, the women left the group and started their own social activities. They'd go drinking. Not like getting shit-faced drinking, but social drinking.
She was dressed ready to go out with the ladies when she came into the kitchen where I was fixing some dinner for myself.
"So, I was wondering," she hesitated and then continued, "I was wondering if you thought it would be okay if I started seeing other people - men. I miss your dad, but I'm still lonely. If you think it's too soon or think people will talk, just say so. I just want to," she said and stopped mid thought.
"Mom, it's okay. I think it's great that you're ready to go on with your life. You're a young woman and you need a man in your life. I get it. And, if you are happy, I don't care what other people say."
She gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek and left for her outing. It was just a couple of weeks later when she said that she'd met a nice man named David. I figured that she'd met David before she asked for permission to date, but I let that pass. Lynda, that's my mom, started going on-and-on about David. He was good, and kind and funny and handsome and so much more. I didn't know if she were trying to convince me or herself.
"I've invited him to dinner on Friday and I'd like for you to meet him."
"Sounds good. Yep, Friday is good."
Friday came and so did David. He seemed nice enough. My late dad was the only yardstick against which I could measure a man dating my mom. David was a little younger than dad by a couple of years. He was taller, maybe six-two with brown hair with a bit of gray creeping in. He was very athletic looking. He had a big smile and seemed very comfortable meeting me.
We all talked over dinner, he was interested in me and my background -- I guess to win me over -- and my mom kept pointing out his good points every chance she got. Bottom line was that he seemed okay to me. If my mom liked him, then great.
Dinner ended and I put the dishes into the dishwasher and begged off for a school event. Leaving, I gave my mom a wink to show my approval of David. Her smile was one of delight and relief. I took my exit.
I got home a little after eleven from school and took a shower and got into bed. It wasn't long before I head sounds from my mom's room. Our bedrooms shared a wall. I couldn't make it all out, but I could make out my mom's voice. The other voice I determined was David's voice. Damn, that was quick. They were already in the fucking part of the relationship.
It wasn't long before I could hear the sounds of some serious fucking. It was odd, as I'd never heard this amount of noise when my father was alive. Back then I may hear a little noise from the bed, but this was different. This David guy was breathing hard as he made the entire bed shake and mom was voicing moans and little passion grunts. I even caught her telling David to "fuck her harder" and from the sound of it he did just that.
The thought of my mom in the next room fucking this David guy and apparently in a much more exciting way that had my father, was kind of exciting
Their fucking ending shortly afterwards with my mom actually screaming her passion and David shouting that he was going to "cum like a motherfucker". Everything went quiet -- for an hour or so. Then they started up again. I could not remember my parents fucking more than once in a night.
The next morning was Saturday and when I got up, mom was dressed in her bathrobe in the kitchen making breakfast. I entered and she looked uncomfortable.
"I guess you heard."
"Sure did," I said and smiled at her.
"We really hadn't planned for him to stay the night, it just happened and I'm glad that it did. I just hope it didn't upset you."
I decided to tease her to let her know I was okay. "So," I said, "did he cum like a motherfucker?"
She blushed. "So, you heard that, did you."
I laughed out loud and the tension was broken.
"Actually," she continued, "he does cum like a motherfucker and so did I."
"So, I guess we'll be seeing more of David, the cumming motherfucker."
"Damn, I hope so," mom said.