Brandons Best Birthday Ever

Darla strolled down the boardwalk with her son Brandon, clinging to his arm. It was a warm evening, but the breeze off the ocean was nice—almost chilly. The boardwalk was crowded, and Darla was almost walked into several times, but Brandon was tall and broad—clearing a space—and he expertly guided his mother through the crowd. It felt nice to be out and about on the arm of a man—even if it was her own son. Darla hadn't done much of this since her divorce.

"I thought we'd start with dinner, if you don't mind. I know food isn't what a young man like you is thinking about on his birthday, but it's important to eat something before you start drinking," Darla said.

"Technically not my birthday, Mom."

"Yes, I know. I was there, remember."

"And I hate to break it to you, but I didn't have my first taste of alcohol on my birthday."

"I know what goes on at college, Brandon. I went to college too. It may have been a thousand years ago, but I don't think it was that different."

"Yeah, Mom? Did you hit a lot of frat party keggers?"

"I went to parties. I had a live before I was your mother, young man."

"Yeah, tell me all about it, Mom."

"I am not going to spill all my secrets to my son. Forget about that."

"I'll just have to get you drunk. Then I'll get everything I want out of you."

"Very funny. I thought you knew better than to try to take advantage of drunk girls."

"Yes, Mother," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I know all about consent."

Darla imagined college was quite different now than when she went back in the early 90s. Consent wasn't a thing people really talked about back then. She knew she took some crazy risks as a young woman. The consequences just didn't enter her mind when she was a young coed. It was common to go to a party or off-campus bar with her fake ID and drink way too much. But nothing terrible ever happened to her, a fact she chalked up to luck and girlfriends who had her back. She feared for her son in today's climate. Darla hoped he had the sense to avoid putting himself in a bad situation, but one couldn't be too careful. She didn't like to think girls made false accusations, but she also knew that regret could be a powerful motivator for a young woman to avoid responsibility for her actions. Darla had seen that firsthand too.

"Of course, you do," she replied. "You're a good young man. And I'm not naïve, Brandon. I know tonight will not be your first drink."

They ended up at a nice steakhouse inside one of the newer Atlantic City casinos. It was pricey, but Darla was willing to spend the money. Her son only turned 21 once. It was jarring to see him openly drinking in front of her, but she sipped her merlot and kept her thoughts to herself. Darla didn't want to bring the evening down.

The truth was, it was difficult to deal with her kids were growing older. Kaitlyn, Brandon's sister, would be 19 in the fall and was headed off to college after taking a gap year. Darla wasn't sure she was ready to face an empty nest. She never thought she'd be doing it alone. Darla knew things weren't great in her marriage, but the divorce still caught her off guard when it came. She suspected Kaitlyn delayed college a year so she wouldn't be alone—another thing for Darla to regret. It just all felt so strange. She swore it was just yesterday the kids were little and running around on the beach during summer vacations. Brandon was a big, strong man now, but he would always be her boy.

Brandon continued to tease Darla about her wild college days through dinner, but she steadfastly refused to divulge any details. In truth, Darla didn't think her college exploits were all that exciting. It was just normal partying stuff. She didn't come into her own that way until later, when she met her ex, Bill.

"How are things going with you, Mom?" Brandon asked, working on his second beer. He'd ordered a second round before Darla even finished her first glass of wine.

"Same old, same old. You know what I mean. Not much exciting going on. It's nice having the summer off, but I'll be happy to get back to my classroom in the fall."

"Those guys are lucky to have you. My friends would all agree."

"I just hope none of them ever expected me to take it easy on them because they were your friends," Darla said. She'd taught English at their local high school for the past 20 or so years.

"No, Mom. You were always very firm...in the classroom."

"I didn't have to be very hard on them. They were good boys, like you. Very attentive."

"Of course, they were. They loved you, Mom."

"Stop it. I'm sure I'm just another mother to them."

A weird look passed over Brandon's face.

"We had the fun house."

"That's just because we had the pool. I argued with your dad about putting that thing in, but he was right. It was worth it when you kids were growing up. Thanks for maintaining it this summer, by the way. It's so much work. I don't think I could be bothered with it just for me."

"No thanks necessary. It's worth it just to see you relaxing by it, Mom."

"You're a sweet boy."

They resumed their meal and Darla loved having the time to catch up with her son. She was glad he took her up on her offer to go out for his birthday. There were a lot of things a newly-21 year-old could get up to on a Saturday night. She didn't think spending it with your mother was high on the list, but Brandon was enthusiastic their celebration night. It was even his idea to take the drive down to Atlantic City. He wanted them to go all out. Darla thought it was a bit much, but she couldn't tell him no. Now she was happy he'd pushed for this.

The waitress brought the dessert tray and Darla demurred. The last thing she needed was one of those scrumptious treats. Darla was paying a lot more attention to her appearance in the wake of the divorce. She didn't think she was in terrible shape, but the extra 10 pounds or so she'd picked up in her 40s bothered her. Bill always said that it added curves in all the right places, but now she didn't believe anything he'd told her. Picking out a dress for the evening had been hell. Darla was going out with her son, so she wasn't trying to look sexy, but she still wanted to look good for a night out in Atlantic City.

"Don't listen to her. She'll take the lava cake," Brandon insisted.

"I will not. Brandon!"

"Seriously, bring it. The lady loves her chocolate."

The waitress smiled and left them while Darla continued protesting. Once the waitress was gone, Darla said, "I do love chocolate, but the last thing I need is dessert."

"What are you talking about, Mom?"

She laughed and said, "Don't forget, I'm a single lady now." Her cheeks reddened as soon as the words left her mouth. Darla blamed them on the two glasses of wine.

"And you look great. Really. I bet the guys are chomping at the bit for you."

"You're saying that because I'm your mother but thank you. Believe me, there has been no chomping."

"I'm not saying your hot because you're my mother," he replied, a strange twinkle in his eye.

"Brandon! I think you need to slow down on the beers."

"I'm not a lightweight, Mom. I can handle more than a couple beers. But seriously, I noticed a conspicuous lack of dates while I was home this summer. Why aren't you out there?"

"I don't know if my dating life is an appropriate topic of conversation with my son."

"I'm not a kid anymore. Remember, Mom? I want to see you happy and you can't be happy alone."

"I don't want to be alone. But I'm fine, really. I'm happy."

It was the truth—mostly. Darla was fine. But she missed having someone around. She missed someone being in bed with her at the end of the night. Sleeping alone was one of the hardest things to get used to. She missed having someone to do things with, which was why she was so excited to be out with Brandon.

And yes, she missed the sex—not that she was admitting that to her son. She missed it a lot. Back when things were good with Bill, they were great. Scorching in fact. Her ex-husband was expert at figuring out exactly what she needed and giving it to her. Darla always considered herself lucky in that regard. Many of her girlfriends had dead bedrooms in their marriages. That was never a problem with Bill, not until the last couple years when he started his affair. It tapered off gradually, so Darla didn't notice it so much, not until it was too late. But now that she was alone, it felt like Darla's sexual cravings had kicked back into high gear. The universe had a funny sense of humor, she thought.

"Why not sign up for a dating app? I'm not saying Tinder, unless that's your thing," Brandon said.

"Isn't that the hook up one? It would be nice to be with someone—to date—but I'm not looking for hook ups. Who do you think I am, Brandon?"

"I think you're still a woman in your prime and you need to do what you need to do. 45 is the new 35, right?"

"I'm a couple years older than 45—just a couple mind you—but that's not the point. I haven't been on a date in, like, 25 years or something. It's not so easy to just jump in. The world has changed. I don't even know where I would begin. They didn't even have apps when I met your father. Friends set us up together."

"Luckiest day of his life."

"That's sweet, Brandon." Darla reached across the table and patted his hand.

"Can't believe that fucker threw it all away. He's a fool," Brandon spat.

"Brandon, watch your mouth. He's still your father. Whatever happened between us, he still loves you and your sister."

"And you deserved so much better, Mom. I mean it."

Brandon looked intensely sincere and squeezed her hand. The way her son looked at her made Darla squirm in her seat and she wondered how things got so heavy so quickly. They needed a change of topic.

"The right man is out there for you, Mom. You just need to see it," he said.

Darla didn't know what to say. Thankfully, dessert arrived. She snatched her hand away from Brandon's like they'd been doing something wrong, but she didn't know why.

The lava cake was massive, and Darla insisted Brandon use the second spoon. He wanted him to eat most of it. She would just have a little taste. Brandon pierced it with his spoon and caught a portion of the molten chocolate seeping out on his spoon. Instead of eating it, he reached across the small table and pressed it to his mother's lips. Caught off guard, she accepted the sweet offering. Darla closed her eyes and an orgasmic shiver passed through her. It was SO good. She couldn't help herself. Darla craved more.

"Oh my god. You have to try this Brandon," she gushed.

"I got it for you. And it was worth it. You should see your face right now."

Brandon scooped up a new portion and presented it to her. Darla couldn't resist. She had no willpower when it came to chocolate or her son. She closed her eyes as the lava cake melted in her mouth.

"You have to try this. Seriously, Brandon."

Darla snatched up her own spoon and turned the tables, pressing the dessert on her son. "You're not too old for me to feed you, boy," she joked, laughing as she fed him.

They turned feeding each other into a game, laughing the whole time. Darla knew they must look ridiculous to the people around them, but she didn't care. It seemed that Brandon was acting like a kid again and it was just what she needed as he marked such a momentous milestone. They finished and Darla wiped her face. They'd made quite a mess of each other. The waitress was amused by their antics when she brought the check. Darla was surprised when she gave the check to Brandon.

"I'll take that," Darla said, reaching for the folder.

"Sorry. I guess I shouldn't assume the man pays these days," the waitress said.

Darla found the comment odd. Didn't waiters assume the parent paid when they were out with their children. Brandon excused himself to the bathroom while Darla took out her credit card and figured out the tip. The waitress returned before her son.

"Sorry about before, really," the waitress said. She was an attractive woman who appeared to be around Darla's age.

"It's fine, really. I'm not easily offended."

"And I just want to say, good for you," the waitress offered. Darla looked at her quizzically, and she continued. "Going for what you want. You know what I mean. He's hot. Good for you, honey."

Darla's mouth dropped open and she wanted to shout, He's my son! But no words came out and the waitress was gone before she recovered. Darla was suddenly hot with shame as she realized that what she thought was innocent fun playing with their dessert looked like something else entirely to the people around them. Of course they looked like a couple! Feeding each other was a cutesy thing couples did. But it didn't make sense. Darla was 25 years older than her son. She knew Brandon looked older than 21—it annoyed her that he wasn't carded when they ordered drinks—but he didn't look that much older. Darla didn't flatter herself that she looked that much younger either.

A quick, perverse thought flashed through her brain. For just the span of a heartbeat, she felt dark pride. Darla was proud that anyone could think of her as being in a couple with someone like Brandon. He was her son, and obviously she didn't think of him any other way, but she knew he was an attractive young man. Brandon was over six feet tall, with a broad, muscular frame. His arms were thick and powerful. He played lacrosse in high school and remained athletic. He kept his blonde hair short. Brandon, in short, was a handsome young man. If anyone thought a woman like her could be with someone like him, it was obviously a compliment—even if a bit scandalous. But he was her son, which just made such thoughts so very wrong. Darla pushed them right out of her mind and plastered on a smile when she saw Brandon returning.

"Ready to get out of here?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure, Mom. Wait a minute. You missed a spot."

Brandon reached down and rubbed at a smear of chocolate in the corner of her mouth, tugging on her lower lip as he brushed it. It was a lover's move, not a son's, and Darla was frozen. Her natural inclination would have been to kiss his thumb and she was glad she resisted. Darla snatched up her purse and they fled the restaurant.

***

Brandon couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he waited on the casino floor. His mother was in the bathroom, after oddly refusing to use the one in the restaurant. The night was going better than he had planned. His mother got flustered when he started talking about sex and dating, but he felt like he'd planted thoughts in her head. Her weird behavior when he came back to their table was proof. Brandon had run to the bathroom to adjust his cock in his pants because spoon feeding his mother dessert made him chub up.

Mom looked hot tonight. She always looked good, but she never bothered to really do herself up anymore, not since his asshole dad left. He hoped taking her to Atlantic City would give her an excuse, and she didn't disappoint. Her clingy blue top really showed off her tits. It had a keyhole that even showed a tasteful hint of cleavage—the closest that Darla Patterson would come to sexy with her son around. The long skirt paired with it hugged her round butt and Brandon kept walking behind her so he could watch her ass move when she walked. He loved that his mother had curves. She was the sexiest woman on the planet, in his mind. She had been as long as he could remember.

Brandon had no idea how his crush on his mother had started, but from his earliest sexual memories he was fantasizing about her. When he jerked off, he was thinking about his mother. He never did anything gross like sniff her panties, but he did check out her lingerie drawer, imagining those lacy bras and panties on his mother's body. Brandon tried everything he could think of to walk in on her changing, or catch her in the shower, but she was always careful. It was so frustrating.

His crush was only fed by his friends. He knew most of them wanted his mother too. They threw out off-handed comments about how pretty and cute she was. She was undeniably cute. She had little chipmunk cheeks that were framed perfectly by the way she wore her chestnut hair in a casual shag with bangs. Mom never did anything to show off her body, but it was hard to hide those tits and that ass, and Brandon caught his friends staring. He didn't blame them. He wished he could tell them he felt the same way, but he didn't want them thinking he was a freak.

Most of the girls Brandon was with were his mother's type—short, brunette, with a curvy body and a pretty smile. The other guys on the team wondered why he wasn't dating cheerleaders or girls from the dance squad, but they didn't light his fire. None of those girls were his mother, though. They paled in comparison.

Years of frustration had finally come to a head. Brandon couldn't take it any longer and he had a plan. Tonight he was going to squire his mother around Atlantic City. He was going to charm her. He would use his secret knowledge—yes, he knew her secrets. And by the end of the night, he would be fucking his mother, Darla Patterson.

***

They wandered the gaming floor, stopping to look at various table games. Darla wasn't much of a gambler and couldn't give her son advise on what to play. Her ex had a weekly poker game and everything she knew about card games came from watching that. Brandon showed an interest in blackjack and they found a low stakes table. Darla bought a stack of chips and pushed them in front of Brandon.

"You need to be playing if you want to sit, honey," the dealer said. He looked about a decade older than her and eyed Darla hungrily.

"Oh, sorry. I'll jump up," she said.

"No, you sit," Brandon said.

"We're here for you, honey, not me. You play," she protested.

"Seriously. I want to watch you play."

Brandon moved behind Darla and place his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in the chair. Three other players waited, and she saw they were annoyed with the delay, so she acquiesced. She understood the basics—that she wanted to get as close to 21 as possible or hit it—but she had no strategy. Darla didn't know when to hit or stand, and it took her a couple hands to get the required hand motions down. All the while, Brandon stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. He had big, strong hands and it was relaxing, distracting Darla from the game. A cocktail waitress came around and Darla put her foot down when Brandon tried to order her another drink. She took a water, while he had a beer. Darla did her best, but she only won one hand and her chips quickly disappeared.

"Why don't you take a turn?" she suggested to her son, standing from the table.

"I'm good. I had fun watching you. You did good, Mom."

Darla laughed. "I lost all my money in about a half hour. I don't think that's good. And I think I was throwing off the other players. They were annoyed with me."

"I don't think so. They're going to miss you."

"What are you talking about?"

"They were all checking you out. Especially that guy on the end."

"Brandon! You're being ridiculous."

Darla snuck a look back over her shoulder and sure enough the guy on the end was watching her butt as she walked away. She didn't think much of her butt, so it felt nice, but when he smiled and tried to make eye contact, Darla looked away and pulled Brandon's arm to hurry him along.

Brandon hurried her past the table games and slot machines and straight to the big bar in the middle of the casino floor. He downed the beer he picked up at the blackjack table and put it on the bar. Darla knew drinking was a rite of passage for a young man turning 21, but she also didn't want her son getting so sloppy drunk that he had to be carried out of the casino. She didn't mind him getting a little drunk, but he had to watch himself.