Authors note: No characters in this work are under the age of 18 and no sexual acts are depicted with any character under the age of 18."
Life as a teenager can really suck sometimes. It was hard enough when my dad left six months ago to take up with a woman that was barely older than me, but now my mom was acting like a freaking kid. I know, I know, what does an eighteen-year-old have to complain about if his mom wants to act half her age. It is after all, her life. If it didn't impact me, then I suppose I wouldn't mind, but it did.
I'd always been expected to do chores, to help out around the house, even before dad left. When my older sister went off to college, I inherited several of her chores, one of which was folding the laundry. I didn't have to wash it or put it away, except for mine of course, but I did have to fold it and separate it into piles. I had to clean the bathrooms and of course keep my own room clean. The lawn was also my task, though I didn't always mind. If I was lucky, the lady that lives next door, Mrs. Anderson, would be out on a sunny Saturday afternoon, sunbathing, in her little black bikini. Sometimes I wondered if she didn't plan being out there when I was doing the lawn just to tease me, and tease me she did, frequently untying the strings of the tiny bikini so that it threatened to slip right off her oiled body if she moved too much. Sometimes I'd have to take a break from mowing and go to my room and peek down from my bedroom window and jack off. But that's another thing all together. I was complaining about life.
Mom was acting like a kid. Well, maybe not a kid so much as much too young. I mean she was forty-four and she was dressing and acting like she was twenty-four. Late nights out with "friends", coming home drunk, generally acting immature. Her clothing had also changed. Gone were the middle age skirts and blouses she wore to work in favor of extremely short skirts, tight shirts, form fitting dresses and EXTREEMLY revealing underwear. Yeah, since I had to fold it, I knew exactly what she was wearing. The other day she dropped her keys and bent over to pick them up and the short skirt rode so far up her ass that I could clearly see the nearly see-through, white thong panty she had on. I briefly wondered who it was she was dropping her keys for at work.
Like I said, I wouldn't have room to complain if it didn't directly impact me, but it was. I wasn't exactly the most popular guy around school. In fact, I was considered pretty geeky. So much so that I frequently didn't have dates on Friday night. Not that I didn't have girlfriends now and again, but I graduated high school a virgin, and here I was, going to head off to college in a few short weeks, still a virgin.
I heard multiple voices downstairs and climbed out of bed. Hearing mom at one a.m. on Friday night wasn't a surprise. Hearing a man's voice arguing with her wasn't normal. I came down the stairs in my pajama pants to find a man holding my mom up against a wall arguing about money.
"You need to pay the cleaning fee!" the guy said as I continued down the stairs, realizing he wasn't exactly pinning my mom to the wall as I'd originally thought, but was holding her up against the wall so she didn't fall down.
"Nooooo!" my mom complained, clearly drunk.
"What's going on?"
"Edddddie!" my mom slurred.
"Your friend here puked in my car, and she needs to authorize the cleaning fee."
"Mom!? You puked in some dude's car?"
"Well, maybe a little," she said, starting to slide down the wall again, pushed back up by the guy.
"Uber driver. Her date asked me to make sure she got into the house all the way. But she puked in my car on the way here. There's a hundred fifty-dollar cleaning fee for me to clean it up."
I shook my head and scowled as I walked the last three steps down. I took her purse from her and dug in it for her wallet. Pulling out the card I let the man scan it on his little phone device while mom slowly slid down the wall again, this time ending up sitting on the floor. I authorized the charge and then dropped the card back in her wallet and carried the wallet and purse to the living room table while the Uber driver walked out the door, closing it behind himself.
I turned back to see mom sitting on the floor, her legs splayed, the short cream-colored dress slid up nearly to her waist. I'd seen plenty of pussies, well, at least on the computer, but this was the first time I'd seen my mom's completely shaved pussy. Her grayish looking inner lips protruded and spread to expose some of her pink depths. I also couldn't help but notice that her big firm tits showed a lot more through the thin cream-colored strapless top than usual. Her nipples poked out the material significantly and the dark circles of her areola were slightly visible through the cream-colored material.
"Damn Mom! Where's your underwear?" I asked as I walked back over to her.
"Took `em off!" she said with a grin. "Some hot hunky cowboy took me off into the corner and let me ride his horse. Didn't seem fair to not let him see my coochie and my boobs both!"
"Jesus, you're so drunk," I said as I straddled her legs and reached down to lift her under her arms to help her up.
"And you've got a fucking hard-on!" she said reaching out to grab my hardening cock through my pajama pants.
"Come on Mom. Let's get you upstairs."
"Damn Eddie. When did you get such a big cock?" she asked, pulling my pj's down far enough to free my dick instead of helping me get her up.
"God Mom!" I said in surprise, letting go of her and stepping back from her, reaching to pull my pjs back up even as they slid further down my legs.
"You're right. Shouldn't have done that," she said with a drunken nod.
I stepped back to her and helped her up, this time with her actually helping me to get her standing up again. I wrapped an arm around her and turned her towards the stairs. She paused at the bottom to step out of her high heels and then, leaving them on the floor at the foot of the steps allowed me to help her up each step. "Damn Mom. You do smell like barf."
"I might have gotten a little sick," she answered. "Maybe I need a shower before I get in bed."
"That's probably a good idea," I answered as we made our way up to the second floor. I helped her to her room and turned on the light, walking her to the bathroom door. I stopped and let her lean against the door frame while I reached inside and turned the light on.
"Maybe you better turn the water on for me," she said as she slowly slid down the door frame until she was once again sitting on the floor.
"Maybe I better," I agreed, looking down at her. I stepped to the walk-in shower and tried to reach for the water handle from the glass door. I couldn't quite reach it and had to step part way into the shower stall to turn it on, ducking back as quickly as I could so I didn't get my pjs wet. Adjusting the temperature was a tougher task. I hiked the legs of my pjs up as far as I could and stepped into the stall. I shook my head at my own stupidity and then let go of one leg to reach for the handle and set the temperature, the spray soaking the right leg of my pajamas.
I stepped out of the stall and over to my mom, once again sitting splay legged on the floor. "Come on, let's get you up."
"Awwwww, my poor baby got wet!" she said as I stepped across her again like I had downstairs, reaching down to help her up again.
"It's just water. No big deal," I answered.
