Introduction: Let the Games Begin
Eleven months separated Marc from his older brother Richard. As they grew older, the eleven-month difference became invisible. Maybe Richard was a little stronger and maybe Marc was a little smarter but that didnât mean that Richard won all the battles of fists nor did Marc win all the battle of wits. Thatâs what made the competition between them interesting; neither knew who would win on any particular day.
And compete they did, about anything and everything. When viewed in hindsight, all the races, wrestling, boxing, and bets were a preparation for the contest that would alter one of their lives, the one for Annette.
Girls and then women became the focus when they were finishing high school. All they had to do was see a good-looking girl in the hall and one would say âGood to go?â and the response that followed only had to be a nod of the head. They both knew that the game was afoot. Which one would have her first?
âGood to goâ was a sacred trust between the brothers. They could and did mislead, misrepresent, and mishandle, anyone and everyone else but once those words were uttered between them, the unspoken ground-rules went into effect.
Most of their lives had been spent with Annette and Joe, their mother and stepfather. At the time their real competition began, that relationship was about to end. âFuck youâ were the last words Annette had said directly to her second husband Joe. They werenât entirely inappropriate.
Their marriage had taken place soon after the boyâs father died and in hindsight may have been a mistake, but it was the easier way out at the time. And although he never said it, Joe had left Annette for another woman. He was also trying to take all the assets with him as well. That part was still in the courts and Annette and Joe only spoke through intervening lawyers.
Annette had asked Lady Pauline about Joe a long time before the pain began to outweigh the pleasure. Lady Pauline, a neighbor who read the cards for Annette, had told her that the man in her life was going to give her nothing but trouble and that was the way Annette ended up feeling. Meanwhile, she worked to keep the boys in school, keep up her job, and keep up their home.
Annette was a sweet looking dark-haired woman with a good body that unlike most women her age, looked better out of her clothes than in them. She carried the few extra pounds that men like and women donât, in the right places. Even though all the studies show that the opposite sex finds us more attractive than we do ourselves, Annette like most people, found it hard to believe.
She felt anything but attractive after Joe left. It didnât matter how many people told her or much she knew in her head, that feeling that if only she was prettier or sexierâŠbothered her - along with the money problems and disintegrated marriage. Lady Pauline told her that her life was going to change. She wanted to believe in Lady PaulineâŠmost of the time, thatâs enough.
So call it synchronicity, confluence of events, or fate, but when the boys made their bet, their mother was at her most vulnerable. It started in the guise of a joke. Marc and Richard were bragging about how each could âmakeâ any girl of the otherâs choosing. When Marc said, âI know someone you couldnât even get to first withâŠsheâs not with anybody and I know you say that sheâs nice looking.â
Richard took the bait and said, âTwenty says I can.â
Marc laughed and said, âOkay Rich, good to goâ
âGood to goâ Richard said as he defiantly hit his brotherâs fist with his own. âWho is it?â
âMomâ
âWhat?â After getting over his startle response, Richard started to laugh hard enough for the soda he was drinking to almost come out of his nose. âYou crazy fuck.â
When Marc also stopped laughing he said, âWell you got to admit, thatâs someone even pussy hound âRichard Don Juanâ canât makeâŠso pay up bud.â
The older brother hesitated for a moment and stared, âWho says I canâtâŠand you only said âget to firstâ didnât you?â
Marc couldnât believe that his brother was serious until he looked at his wild eyes. Finally he said, âGet realâŠare youâre really going to try toâŠ?â
âDamn rightâŠand Iâll tell you what bro; fifty says I can get more than you can.â
Marc was almost jack lighted but by the time he regained his composure, his practically involuntary response was to stick out his fist and say, âOh manâŠokayâŠgood to go.â This was the first outward expression of a long undercurrent between them. They both found their mother attractive. They had talked about it when they were younger and at the stage where âcatching a peekâ of their mother would lead to weeklong discussions of what one or both of them had seen.
Stories and Lotion
The plotting and planning began, and as with all of their bets, it had nothing to do with what would be won or the consequences; it was only about the winning. It never mattered how long it took or how much effort they had to exert, as long as they won.
Before the bet, what went on between Annette and her sons could best be characterized as ordinary. The usual familial squabbling and yelling mixed with generous doses of warmth and affection. After the bet, both boys started paying much more attention to their mother. They were more considerate, more attentive and more complimentary. Annette thought it was because her husband had left her and she was grateful for the kindnessâŠshe was hungry for it.
Richard was physical with her. He looked for any excuse to touch her. He hugged her more, he held her arms as he kissed her in greetings and then there was the lotion. Annette always took care of her skin and it seemed like she kept a bottle of lotion in every room. So one day as they were sitting in the kitchen Richard said, âLet me do that for you mom.â Annette was a bit surprised but she handed the bottle to her oldest son. He did her arms and legs and they both enjoyed the satiny stroking.
He only did it up to his motherâs knees and after a short time he handed her back the bottle. She thanked her son without noticing the beginnings of his hard-on as he rose and left the room. Without overdoing it, Richard found more and more opportunities to do it for longer and longer. Annette would put her legs on him as they sat on the couch and she would drowsily close her eyes as her son rubbed her. She took some notice when he moved up to her thighs with his gentle slippery fingers, but it felt too good to give it serious attention.
Richardâs hand on his mother didnât escape Marcâs attention. He was thinking about telling Richard that the whole thing was crazy and they should give it up but he knew he would have to listen to Richardâs bragging and calling him a âpussyâ for months. He figured one of them would maybe get a feel and that would be the end of it. So he took a deep breath and let his compulsion to beat Richard overpower his reluctance. He set his mind on his mother and came up with his first plan, never thinking about the maze he was about to enter.
Knowing that his mother didnât sleep well and often stayed up watching television late into the night, Marc thought of using it to his advantage. He also knew how much she enjoyed conversation. She could listen for hours to her sons telling her stories about the details of their day. She even enjoyed their competition because they were funny and good-natured even in their name-calling.
Marc started getting up in the middle of the night to sit with his mother. He told her that he also couldnât sleep and at one point he asked her if she would like him to read her. Annette had always talked and joked openly about sex so when some of the stories her son read had erotic passages, she didnât think much about it. After a few nights the stories he had printed pout from the Net got harder. Marc read to her about cousins who fell in love and had to fight their families to stay together; he read one about a brother and sister who survived together in war-torn Croatia and ultimately became lovers. She found the stories as stimulating as their talks about how far people will go when theyâre in love.
Most nights Annette was as glad to be up as asleep because she knew Marc would read to her. He had a quiet gentle voice that lulled her while paradoxically the content stimulated her. At one point he suggested he read in her bedroom so that if she fell asleep she wouldnât be troubled to get up. The first night in her bedroom he read her a story about a mother and son. It was graphic and Marc figured if he could get her to listen to a story about a mother having sex with her son he could win on that. He hadnât even fantasized how far it would get.
Annette had her hands resting lightly between her legs under the sheet. As her son described the part where the mother first opens her legs and willingly accepts her son inside her, she became excited. As the story progressed the mother and son fell in love and in a scene where they lost control, her husband was in the next room. Annette was totally absorbed inside the story as the young man had sex with his mother.
With hardly a move she eased and pressed her fingers over her hooded clit. Her breathing changed and Marc began whispering. He began fitting in things that could have been from Annetteâs life. She got hotter and started to moan. Her mind raced and she was lost in emotion and flowing juices. She whispered, âWhatâs her nameâŠwhatâs her name?â
Marc brought his lips to his motherâs ear and said, âAnnette.â His mother came. She came with a long moan that she tried to control when her awareness flashed but it was too late. When she returned her arched hips to the bed and realized that there was no way to cover up what had happened, she covered her face with her hands and started crying.