Those Autofellatio Blues Ch 10

When I saw Bridget at school the day after she and Elaine got, um, acquainted, there was a palpable tension between us. We'd reached an understanding-she agreed to stop demanding that I pleasure her with my outsized equipment, and I admitted that the reason I was resisting her charms so resolutely was that I wanted to win her respect more than her body. So you have two young people, hormones a-raging, trying very hard not to have sex with each other. Hence, the tension.

I'll never forget going to lunch that afternoon, since I can point to that particular hour as the moment when it all started to come undone. I sat with my buddies and once again endured the collective cold shoulder. "For God's sake, talk to me!" I said.

"About what?" Vince asked, eyes on his burger.

"Anything! You don't have to treat me like I'm radioactive. I'm going to the prom with Bridget, it's no big deal."

For the first time in a week, Vince met my eyes. "You think this is about Bridget?" he asked

"Well, yeah, I thought you guys were jealous and..."

"The fuck do I care if you're dating some bitch?"

"Don't call her a bitch," I said quietly.

"Why not? She is, no matter how gorgeous she is." He leaned forward. "I don't know what's going on between you and her, and I don't care. You've changed, Dan. You're never around, you don't hang out with us anymore. You've got better things to do?"

"No, I..."

I was interrupted by a soft touch on my shoulder. "Busy?" Bridget asked, as though my friends weren't there. Once upon a time they would have shrunk back. Actually they did-except for Vince. He looked at her and said, "Dan and I are talking."

"So what?"

"It's important."

Bridget rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. Danny, now?"

I think back to that moment and I scream, "Don't go with her!" to the tall, skinny boy sitting with his friends, the friends he lost for good that day. But I was still a boy, still too young and stupid to see that I was making a terrible mistake. "We'll talk later," I promised, and those were the last words I ever spoke to Vincent Lorenzo, my very good friend since the sixth grade.

I followed Bridget to an empty booth. "I understand why you prefer spending time with Elaine instead of those losers," she said.

"They're not losers. They're my friends."

She waved a hand. "Whatever. Elaine said I should ask how your mom reacted when you told her we were going to the prom together."

"What happened? She went nuts. 'Over my dead body' is an exact quote."

Worry clouded that beautiful face. "My mommy got down on her hands and knees and begged me to change my mind. She's afraid of what your mother might do to her."

"I'll talk to her, I'll keep her away from Julia."

"No, don't bother. Elaine said that you've honestly tried to help my mommy." She touched my hand and I was instantly lightheaded. "I appreciate that, really. But there might be another way to fix things between them."

"How?"

She withdrew her hand. "Don't worry about it, something that Elaine suggested. But that isn't our only problem."

"No?"

"No." She leaned close, her face filling my whole range of vision. There wasn't the slightest blemish on her skin, her cheeks were so soft, so smooth, and those icy blue eyes looked straight into my soul. I was suddenly afraid of Bridget Landau, afraid of what I would do to keep her this close to me. No price would be too high to pay.

"My mommy wants me to share you with her," she said. "First she begged me not to go to the prom with you, and then she begged me to bring you with her. She loves your dick as much as I do." I shifted in my seat, my flowering erection straining against my jeans. "That's why I didn't tell her about my little plan until now, I knew she'd be a total pest, pleading me to bring you to our house so she could fuck you."

I have to admit, it was a bit flattering to have a gorgeous woman and her goddess of a daughter both so smitten with my physical gifts. Well, gift. I was a paragon of modesty as I said, "Well, if you want me to pay Julia a visit, I guess I could be persuaded to..."

I thought Bridget was going to punch me again. "Don't you fucking DARE!," she hissed. "Don't even THINK about having sex with my mommy!"

I guess offering to fuck your would-be girlfriend's mother isn't the best route to her heart. "Oh, of course not, no."

It didn't completely mollify her. "I don't want you and you mom ganging up on her." She throttled back a bit, and said, "I wouldn't like it either."

Hope, that winged angel, took flight inside me. Bridget Landau was jealous? Maybe the joy showed on my face because a sudden coolness came over her. "If you want me to like you, and respect you, don't even think about my mommy in that way. And let me tell you something, right now I don't like you and I'm not even close to respecting you."

"OK, fine. I won't have sex with your mother." I wanted to bash my head off the table. "I can't believe I'm actually saying that. It's like I'm in the middle of a bad porn movie."

"You wish." She checked her watch. "OK, tomorrow we're going to get your tuxedo and get your hair cut."

"Wait, what? What's wrong with my hair?"

"We don't have enough time for me to go into the details. We'll go to my stylist and she'll make you look human. And I know where to get a tux that doesn't look like something you should be buried in."

"Why go tomorrow? Why not today after school?"

"I'm busy, I have plans."

A green wave of jealousy and self-loathing washed through me. "With who? Doing what?"

She leaned back in her chair, her smug smile infuriating me. She probably could smell the jealousy oozing from my every pore. "It's a mystery, Danny," she said. The bell rang, she got up, and she kissed me on the cheek. "It's a mystery."

She walked away, and everyone around my table looked at me with envy, or disbelief, or resentment. I didn't care about them. I only cared about the girl who, more and more, dominated my life. She had plans after school and it drove me crazy thinking about what she was doing, and with whom. I couldn't make her crazy if I told her I was going clubbing with the Pope.

I went home that day with a bit of the hangdog about me. I wolfed down an apple and did what homework I still cared to do. I finally paused long enough to think about that conversation with Vinnie. I needed to talk to them, reconnect with the guys I'd grown up with. Pete was going to be my college roommate, for God's sake. I didn't want those icy silences dragging on my whole freshman year. I headed for the door, determined to have it out with my buddies once and for all and get all the shit out into the open.

I almost made it. "Oh, you're home," Mom said, storming into the living room. "I need you to vacuum in here."

"Oh, OK," I said as she blew by me. I did the job as specified, and when I finished she said, "Polish the furniture." When I finished THAT she called me upstairs and I helped her put clean white sheets on her bed. It's one of those huge, four-poster, canopied deals that sits about a foot off the floor, and my mom actually has a little stool to help her summit those Himalayan heights. I did my hospital corners and tried to read the distracted expression on my mother's face.

"Are you using a new detergent?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Now go vacuum the living room."

"Uh, already did that."

"Then do the dishes. I want the kitchen spotless." She wheeled and said, "I have to take a shower."

Well, what the fuck? I went downstairs and washed the dishes and cleaned the counters and Swiffered the floor, all the while thinking, thinking. Why was Mom so freaked? What was the big mystery?

Mystery. The word echoed in my head, spoken in Bridget Landau's voice. Where are you going, Bridget? "It's a mystery."

My blood ran cold. I put both hands on the counter for support. It was impossible. Unthinkable.

But...

I sat downstairs for a long time, waiting for Mom to come downstairs. Confront her? No, I'd lose that test of wills. Close my eyes and hope for the best? No way. I decided on a Zen approach to this particular problem. Like a reed, I would bend in the breeze. Bend, but not break.

Mom came downstairs and, wow. She wore a cream-colored suit, the skirt cut a bit high for a woman with a son her age, and showing a bit more décolletage that I thought appropriate. Her dark brown hair hung in soft waves to her shoulders, her makeup was perfect, and I caught a subtle whiff of perfume. "You look like a million bucks," I said.

"Thank you."

"You and Dad going somewhere nice?"

"No, we're expecting guests."

Innocent as a lamb, I said, "Who?"

She checked her watch. "You don't need to be here. Go somewhere."

Jesus. "'Go somewhere?'" I parroted. "Like where? Cleveland? Sweden?"

For the first time since she got home she actually noticed me. "Go to Elaine's, get your dick sucked," she snarled. Then realized what she said, and who she said it to, and she smiled at me. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm a bit tense."

"A bit," I agreed.

"I just need some privacy. Some peace and quiet."

"No problem," I said, the understanding son. "When can I come back?"

"Around nine?"

"OK." I grabbed my keys and accepted a guilty kiss on the cheek. "You do look great," I said.

"Thanks, honey." She seemed pleased, but still very nervous.

I pulled out of the driveway, turned down the street...and made a beeline for the elementary school about a half-mile away. I parked in the lot and started jogging back home. I cut through a few back-yards along the way, and in about five minutes I was crouching behind the big pine tree in our back yard. I felt like a criminal, casing a house I was about to burgle. It was fun.

I crept up to the house, and the sliding glass door sighed as I nudged it along its tracks. I took a peek inside, and heard my mother's voice coming from the kitchen. "No, I'll handle it myself...no, if you were here it would only make things more complicated..." There was a longer pause, and then I caught a break. I heard her high-heels clicking across the linoleum floor.

"I don't care how much you beg!" Mom said, getting angry, and I made my move. I padded across the dining room, through the living room, and raced up the staircase on all fours. I lay on the floor just above the staircase, where I would have a bird's eye view of whatever weirdness was about to unfold.

The doorbell rang. "Bill, she's here. OK...OK...I love you too. I promise I'll make it up to you...bye-bye." I saw Mom fluff out her hair, smooth her lapels, and open the door.

"Hello, dear," Mom said. And it was just like seeing the tree Christmas morning, you know that there's gonna be presents, but when you see them all wrapped up it's still a huge thrill. Bridget Landau, wearing a bright red suit cut a bit higher on the thigh and a bit sharper down the cleavage than my mother's, walked through the doorway. She looked gorgeous. Mom looked gorgeous. I watched these two gorgeous women tentatively shake hands, and then, after a pause, come together in a cool, cautious hug.

They walked to the couch in the living room, which was perfect because their backs were to me and I could watch unseen. "Can I get you something to drink?" Mom asked. "Iced tea, lemonade...a glass of wine?"

"Iced tea would be fine, thank you."

Already they were jockeying for position. My mother pointing out Bridget's youth and inexperience by condescendingly offering her a glass of wine, which she of course wasn't old enough to have, and Bridget shrugging off Mom's catty gesture by asking for iced tea, as if to say that she didn't need to drink to prove she was an adult.

Or, maybe, I was reading too much into things.

With refreshments served, Mom turned to the serious business at hand. "I understand that you and my son are going to the prom together."

"Yes, we are."

"Why would you want to do that?"

I have to admit, Mom asking that cut me to the quick. Even though it was a perfectly logical question under the circumstances, mothers are supposed to think that no girl is good enough for her little boy. And yet my Mom was questioning Bridget's motives in dating me. Again, a perfectly logical question, but it still hurt.

I could hear the smirk in Bridget's voice. "Are you surprised because I'm so far out of his league, or do you think I'm not good enough for him?"

"No, you're not good enough for my son. You are beautiful, that's true. Extraordinarily beautiful."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear. But I know that the only reason you're going out with Danny is to get back at me, because of what you think I'm doing to your mother. Maybe you plan on making Danny fall in love with you and then break his heart."

Bridget laughed condescendingly. "That's part of it, but it's not that simple. He's already in love with me." It shocked me to hear her say it. It shocked me more to realize it was true.

"He should be with a girl he can have fun with, a girl who treats him right."

"Like Elaine?" Bridget asked, mentioning my mother's friend, the one who had given me so much pleasure the past few months and had recently added Bridget to her long list of lovers.

Mom laughed, and it wasn't a nice laugh. "From what I understand, Elaine treats you right too."

"She's wonderful. I love her."

"So do I."

There was a pause, and I nearly stuck my head over the railing to see what was going on. But then Bridget said, "I do like Danny."

"Sure you do."

"I do. I like him a lot. Do you know why?"

"Yes, I do."

Bridget laughed. "No, it's not his dick. That's why I dream about him every night when I play with myself, but that isn't why I like him."

My head swam at the thought of Bridget fingering herself while panting my name. Then Mom asked the question I wanted asked. "So why do you like him?"

"Because he's a snob, just like me. He says what he wants, does what he wants, and he doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks about him. He stood up to Michael Panucci and didn't back off even when four of them started beating him. And do you know what he told me?" Mom shook her head and Bridget said, "He said that he doesn't want to have sex with me, he wants my respect. He wants me to like him. Can you believe that?"

"Yes. Can you understand that makes me proud of him?"

"Sure. That's what made me interested in him. He's the only man who ever told me to my face that he wasn't interested in my body. I mean, I know he's interested, but at least he's trying to resist me."

"He'll probably be the last man able to do that, dear."

They both laughed quietly, and in a few seconds there was silence again. Then Bridget said, "It's very simple. I want you to stop tormenting my mommy," Bridget said. "If you to promise to leave her alone, and never see her again, I won't destroy Danny."

Mom laughed. "So, once again we come back to Julia. Dear, don't you understand that the mere fact that you're here pleading with me shows that she needs a firm hand?" Mom reached over and touched Bridget's shoulder, serious now. "Your mother and I have a two-way relationship. It's not that I impose myself on her. She submits willingly. When she gives herself to me, she finds a different kind of fulfillment than she does with any other partner."

My mother's hand was still on Bridget's shoulder, and my lovely blonde classmate let her head loll to the side, until her cheek rested on Mom's hand. "Maybe that's true, but I don't care. I can't stand to see my mother grovel to you. I won't stand for it."

"So, this is about you after all," Mom said gently. She reached over with her other hand and smoothed golden hair out of Bridget's face. "You poor, poor girl."

Bridget tilted her head to allow my mother's hands to stroke her neck. "If you break things off with my mommy, it will save Danny a lot of pain."

"What makes you think you can manipulate him so easily?"

Bridget's head jerked up. "Look at me," she said sharply. "You think I can't wrap him around my little finger? Please."

"You're right," Mom sighed. "I doubt he's strong enough to resist you."

I was doubly pissed now, hearing that these two women had such a low opinion of my backbone. So what if, again, they were right?

"So," Bridget asked, "do we have a deal?"

"No," Mom said.

"No?"

"No. Come now, what kind of deal is this for me, really? I get nothing out of it. I have break things off with your mother, and that's a relationship that gives me a tremendous amount of pleasure. And even if you let Danny down gently he's going to be miserable. You get everything you want, and I get nothing."

Bridget spoke so softly I had to strain to hear her. "I don't think you understand, Danny with a case of the blues is nothing compared to what I could do to him."

Mom said, "I understand you perfectly. But he's a big boy. He needs to learn that life isn't always fair and easy. Life can be cruel as well as kind."

"Mrs. Payton, I can be very, very cruel."

Mom laughed. "I don't doubt that for a second, dear. But I think you're underestimating Danny. He's more resourceful and resilient than you think he is. And," I hearshe reached out and touched Bridget's shoulder again, "please, call me Linda."

At last, Mom paying me a compliment. I was feeling a bit better as I watched Bridget take a nervous-looking sip of iced tea. She said, "I didn't think you'd accept my offer."

Mom nodded slowly. "You're too clever to think I'd cave in like that." Now Mom took a thoughtful drink. "I don't think you came here looking to make a deal."

"Is it that obvious?" Bridget asked.

Mom said, "You tell me."

Their nervous, girlish laughter rose to my hiding spot. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn't obvious to ME. I strained my ears to hear what they said next.

But it wasn't what they said that answered the question, it was what they DID. Mom reached over and caressed Bridget's cheek with the back of her hand, moving that blonde hair away from her beautiful face. They slowly, slowly leaned forward, and I watched my mother and my would-be girlfriend kiss each other. They kissed softly, gently, Bridget resting her hand on my mother's shoulder, my mother's fingertips stroking the nape of Bridget's neck.

I tried to scream, I opened my mouth and strained so hard I thought I'd wet myself, but no sound came.

Their kissing grew more heated, more passionate. I could see their parted lips, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Bridget reached inside Mom's jacket to touch her breast. When they at last parted Bridget said breathlessly, "I'll take my mother's place. Leave her alone and I'll be your slave."

"Darling," Mom said, stroking Bridget's face, "You'll never be anyone's slave."

They started kissing again, their busy hands removing suit jackets, untucking blouses. Mom leaned forward and nuzzled my classmate's long neck. I couldn't see Bridget's gorgeous face, but I could imagine it, imagine her eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks flushed, her moist tongue licking her lips. I watched them kiss and caress each other for five minutes and it was the most erotic train wreck I've ever seen.

"Linda, I want us to make love," Bridget gasped.

"I do too, darling. Elaine told me how exquisite you are."

"Elaine told me how wonderful you are."

My mother started unbuttoning Bridget's blouse. "This had to happen eventually."

"So let's do it now."

They kissed again. "Let's go upstairs to my bedroom," Mom said, and helped her new lover rise from the sofa. They picked up their cast-aside suit jackets and headed for the stairs.

Bedroom. Upstairs. I was upstairs. Uh-oh.

I jerked my head back behind the wall and crawled down the hall. Where to go. I was panicked, I had to hide RIGHT NOW! I heard footsteps coming up behind me. My bedroom was down the hall to the left. I would be safe there. I could wait until they shut the door and really started going at it and then slip away. Turn left and I could escape this nightmare.