Things started to shift around my house in late July. It was the summer between my junior and senior year in high school. I had just tuned eighteen and was gearing my last year of high school for college.
I missed most of the third grade because of asthma and allergies. That may not sound like much; but where you are fighting for every breath because of some cleaner a school janitor used, or because the flowers in the front yard were blooming; it had an effect.
While that put me a year behind, it really didn't affect things socially for me, honestly social was not something I had a lot of. Because of the asthma I wasn't into many sports or things like that. Oh I worked out in the home gym; I wasn't a rolling butter ball or anything.
But getting my head smacked in by some two hundred and fifty pound guy on a football field was never my thing. I admit you could have called me a nerd, but frankly nerds are the guys who hire you when you are in your twenties and thirties; so I didn't care.
I was going to be senior class president, president of my Honor Society, and class valedictorian. I wasn't going to be the Home Coming King, but you show me a home coming king that has a full ride scholarship to Miami in marine biology.
Anyway, back to that summer. What changed was my dad's job; or rather his shift. Dad worked at the farm chemical plant in Raleigh. He had been there since college so he had the seniority to be on days. It was that summer he had come home and announced he was changing to be the supervisor for the second shift. Mom and I were surprised, it didn't make any more money, and since she worked as a nurse at the Medical center on day shift; it kind of put things at odds for them.
Let me pause here by saying I'm not your average kid. No, not about the grades; I notice things, little things. Like dad not kissing mom good bye in the mornings; or them hardly talking as they sat in the living room in the evening.
They didn't fight or anything; it just seemed like things had gotten comfortable for them in almost twenty years of marriage; too comfortable.
I had expected dad's shift change to stir things up with mom, but it seemed to do the opposite. They would see each other on days mom had off during the week; since she worked some weekends. Other than that mom went to bed by 9:30 or 10:00 at night since she got up at 5:00am. Dad came home between eleven and midnight.
You get the picture; things were like two people living in the same house; that was about it. Neither of them seemed to be unhappy about it so I didn't make a big deal of it.
That summer I was working on a paper for SeaWorld as a part of my scholarship. I was doing a study on using seaweed as a biodegradable fuel source; and don't ask. It was the second week of dad's new shift that things went a little wonky.
I had been working on my research when I heard the front door to the house; I figured dad must be home from work. I glanced at the clock and froze, it was after 1am; what the hell?
I could hear dad moving quietly around downstairs, and then the house fell silent. He hadn't come up the stairs to bed yet, that was odd. I slipped out of my room and headed down the stairs. I figured if he asked I could say I was thirsty or something.
He wasn't in the living room or kitchen, I wandered towards the back of the house. That was when I heard the shower running in the laundry room. Why would he shower in there, I wondered; not in his own shower.
I started to head back to my room, figuring none of this was my business, when I saw his work clothes piled on the floor. Mom would have a fit if she saw that, I figure might as well, so I gathered them up to throw them in the laundry basket.
I was immediately almost overwhelmed by the scent of perfume. Ever since my asthma issues, I had been especially sensitive to smells. I couldn't miss this smell; his clothes reeked of it. The thing was it wasn't a smell mom used. I knew her perfumes; she had bought them because she knew how sensitive my nose was.
Slowly I lowered the pile of clothes back to the floor, and glanced over at the frosted shower door. Rinsing off the evidence? The clothes were right in front of the washer; I bet he planned to throw them in before he went to bed.
Not bad old man, I thought. Come home two hours late; your wife is sleeping. A quick shower to rinse off the evidence and wash your clothes; and no one would be the wiser, I thought.
Why would my brain go that direction; two reasons. One was all the little subtle hints I had seen between the two. It also explained better why the shift-change for dad, it gave him now not only motive, but opportunity. Second, because I am an eighteen year old male, who lives for internet porn; and I jack off at least two or three times every day. Tell me you weren't the same when you were my age.
As I slipped back into my room, I thought of what I would tell mom. Then; I realized there really was nothing to tell, I had no evidence. Maybe I was just being suspicious but things weren't adding up well in my teenage brain.
The next morning mom was already gone, and dad was watching television when I came downstairs. He was playing on his cellphone and when I walked by he made a point of setting it face down in his lap.
I grabbed a bowl of cereal and headed back to my room, I made a point of letting him see me go by. Once in my room I grabbed my laptop and pulled up my connection to the iCloud. One thing about having your folks pay your bills, it puts you all on the same family plan, which meant the same iCloud.
I linked into dad's cellphone memory, and pulled up his text history. There were only a few people he sent texts to, he wasn't the most tech savvy man in the world.
I skipped over the ones to me, and those I could tell were work. The only thing left was mom from what I could see. I did see a text from him last night about nine telling her he was going to work some overtime. Mom's answer was a bit on the lackluster side.
I started to back out of the iCloud when the numbers struck me. There were the few to me and mom, but holy shit he had sent over three hundred while working.
I pulled up his work log, and that's where things finally clicked. Her name was Angel, go figure. She was a single mom and dad had apparently helped her with a few bucks a couple of times. Well, that few bucks evolved; apparently my old man was now her sugar daddy.
Angel had sent a text thinking him for paying to fix her car. I liked her reward, that they would 'christen' the back seat together. Damn this girl had a kink, I almost laughed.
When he had apparently helped her get some groceries; she had told him to stop by after work and 'heat his sausage in her oven.' God this chick was corny.
By the time a half hour had passed, there was no doubt in my mind; dad was having an affair. That was why the shift change; he and his darling Angel could get together after work, especially since mom always went to bed early.
It was weird; on the one hand I was pissed as hell, my old man was fucking around on my mom. One the other, my eighteen year old hormonal body was on overload after reading some of their hot texts.
Jesus, some of it read like a pornographic movie script. Dad said how he wanted to eat her pussy after work, and his little Angel told him how she wanted to ride his lap until he squirted in her. She certainly knew how to keep this sugar daddy on the hook I had to admit.
Later that evening, after dad had gone to work, I tried to think of what I wanted to say to mom. Should I tell her or just stay out of it. Did she have any idea this was going on, and was a great actress at hiding it? Or was she really the true southern belle and had no idea her loving husband would be balls deep in a twenty-one year old pussy tonight.
I still was wrestling with everything when all of a sudden it was nine-thirty; and mom was heading to bed. I sat in my room, debating and berating myself. I tried to practice what I wanted to say; having finally come to the decision I needed to say something.
It had to be after ten by the time I stood outside her bedroom door; I figured she couldn't be asleep in only a half an hour.
"Mom?" I half whispered.
I eased the door open and stood in the dark bedroom, letting the light from the hall illuminate the bed. Well fuck me, she was dead asleep already. I slowly approached the bed and looked down at her.
Being the end of July it was still pretty warm and humid. Mom had only the sheet on, and that she had let drift down to her waist for cool air from the air conditioner. I opened my mouth to say something, but it just hung there as my eyes adjusted to the semi dark and I stared at mom.
OK, I guess it's time; like it or not, to describe my mother. For someone who watches a reasonable amount of porn...ok a LOT of porn; I tend to equate women with porn stars I know. For mom, it would have to be India Summer. Go ahead; take the time to look her up; that is one hot momma.
Like my favorite MILF star, mom had long dark hair that fell in waves about her shoulders, and right now it was spread out on her pillow framing that gorgeous face.
I watched her chest rise and fall with her easy breathing. She didn't have those big fake porn tits; instead she went with the natural look. Her 34C's were barely concealed in the chemise nightgown she was wearing and I could see her nipples pressing out against the silky material.
I let my eyes travel down her body, seeing that flat belly just peeking out between the hem of her night gown and the edge of the sheet. I wondered if she had that fantastic trimmed patch between her thighs just like India did, keeping things natural.
I wanted to reach down and bring that sheet lower to see what kind of panties she was wearing. Were they granny panties, or were they sexy bikini panties. Better yet, was she fucking naked under that sheet.
I shook my head and tried to clear the thoughts swimming through my hormonal brain; the problem was by that time I was raging hard. Any thought of waking her up went out the window right there. I could just hear myself; oh hey mom, dad's having an affair, oh and ignore my hard on from staring at your tits.
I was going to just turn around and leave, I swear to God. Then, that dark thought came back; about her pubic hair. Reaching down, I slowly slid the sheet downward, using only two fingers to grip the cloth.
When the sheet slid below her waist, I thought I would cum on the spot; she had on a pair of almost sheer blue laced panties that left nothing to my horny imagination.
I stared at that trimmed dark thatch of hair hidden under the thin cloth, wondering what it would be like to run my tongue through that. My hand went back up her body, suspended above her. As my other hand slid through the opening of my pajama pants and fished my steel hard seven inch dick free,
I was a total gross pervert, standing there in the semi dark, jerking my throbbing cock as I used one finger to drift the top of her chemise down just enough to let a hard nipple poke out.
I had already jerked off twice today; but that didn't matter. That had been to porn videos of fake actresses with silicone tits. This was a real woman, the first one I had ever seen this close up.
I almost shit when mom stirred slightly, turning her body until she was partially facing me. I froze and held my breath, if she woke up now I would be screwed.
