Fixing My Loser Son

Chapter 1: Attraction

"Maybe I'm a sexist. I put so much pressure on my girls and let Gabe get away with everything."

"That's ridiculous, you can't be sexist, you're a woman."

"I read an article that women have more implicit bias against women than men do."

"Maybe it's attraction."

"Dana, that's disgusting. That's my son."

So there I sat at lunch on what must have been the worst day of my life. I had called my lifelong friend Dana to help me sort out the revelation that my son was dropping out of community college after four years. He spent four years at a two-year school and dropped out! And then my best friend had the audacity to suggest my failure was because I was attracted to him!

"I'm sorry, Vick, but you know how you get when you like a guy, and your son is really handsome."

She was right about those two things. All my son did was work out and he play video games. He was the best looking grown video game nerd in his mother's basement you'll ever find.

"OK, those things are true, but I'm not attracted to my son."

"Yeah, it's fine, just an idea."

"Besides, I couldn't be attracted to someone who just plays video games all day."

"No, I know."

"I mean, he's a loser. I know better than to be attracted to a loser."

Dana made a face. I changed my tone and said, "Oh come on, it's been so long."

"Vicky, it hasn't. You haven't dated since Bill, and he was a loser. And you doth protesteth too much."

I ignored the bad rendition of Shakespeare and just said, "OK, I had bad taste in men and I've been off the market for sixteen years. But still Gabe is a loser and I don't know where I went wrong."

"Maybe you didn't go wrong. I mean, we were older than Gabe."

"Don't talk about that. We don't talk about that. And we had finished four year degrees. He dropped out of a two-year."

"He'll figure it out, he just needs the right push from you."

"Yeah, kick him out. Get a job or get out."

"I told you I don't think that will work."

"But what will?"

"I think you'll find a way. Remember Damien shaped up after high school. Now two years of A's at community college and he'll live at home to go to State next year."

"But what did you do?"

"I just gave him the support he needed. It won't seem like it till he's landed on his feet, but Gabe loves you. It sucks his dad died, but he loves you."

I looked at Dana, the purple frames of her glasses reminding me how much wisdom was behind her beautiful, ageless face. I was still pretty, and probably didn't look like I had just turned fifty, but I had lines to betray my middle age. Dana could pass for her twenties. Sometimes I took pride in having more muscle tone than her, but the truth was her pampered legs were just as sexy as mine.

"You know he doesn't even really play those dumb video games?" I asked, as if trying to recover from the intensity of our earlier conversations.

"How do you mean?"

"It turns out Lizbeth writes code so he can basically cheat at the games."

Dana laughed. "So she's the one really playing and what does he do?"

"That's what I say. Like it's great he has something in common with his sister, or with any human really, but like, what's the fun of playing? It's not like he's making money."

"Maybe he just needs a kick away from those video games. He obviously has the leadership skills to make his sister cheat for him."

I rolled my eyes. "She probably offered. She'll take any excuse to do code."

* * *

I went back to work, satisfied that I had had a nice lunch but frustrated that there wasn't an answer. Dana was always so vague about her son; not even two years ago he had been as much of a loser as Gabe, but now he was getting good grades in community college and transferring to the local four-year in the fall with no desire to move out of the house. Dana would talk about how amazing he was and how much she loved him, but not much else. She used to worry about how mundane life with her husband was, but all that changed when Damien graduated and now Andrew just seemed to be part of the background. I just needed an ounce of wisdom, somewhere. I had raised my three kids alone for sixteen years, and all I knew how to do when my 22-year-old basically told me he was a failure was yell and scream about "what are you going to do?" I guess I could look on the bright side: Rachel was doing great in college, and while Lizbeth's grades weren't so hot, she was already so good at code that she could probably make a ton of money today if a tech company found her.

I sat at my desk for a few minutes just trying to think about where to go. The lawyers I worked with were nice enough to me, but they were jerks at heart and had no interest in their paralegal's personal life. I think they were always worried about saying the wrong thing to the young widow. My mom was more useless than me as a parent, and my dad was generally unreachable since my mom kicked him out ten years ago. My kids' other grandparents were deadbeats, worse than Gabe. My sister thought she was hot stuff childless in New York and rarely made appearances anymore. I guess I had to just wing it on Dana's advice.

I had enough easy work that afternoon to distract myself a little from the morning's revelation and I mostly forgot about Dana's perverted accusation. I left work right at five and came straight home. I shouted that I was home and got no response. Rachel would be home from college in two weeks; she would have greeted me. I figured Gabe might have left to avoid me, otherwise he would have greeted me just to assuage my earlier anger. Before I had even closed the door, I saw Lizbeth on the couch with her nose buried in her laptop.

I went over to her and said, "Take off your glasses, you'll need reading glasses when you're my age."

She pulled her glasses off with one hand and said, "Focusing."

"Too focused to just say 'hi' to your mother when she's ten feet away?" No answer. "Where's Gabe?"

"Basement. Where else."

"Cheating at video games with your code?"

"They're scripts."

I took a deep breath. Behind that computer genius persona, Lizbeth was a regular teenager. Short answers, knowing everything. She had turned 18 a week and a half prior and was wrapping up her junior year of high school. I had held her back from kindergarten because I thought she needed to develop socially, but living in her own world was just who she was. She often forgot to do homework or study for tests because she was writing code, or scripts or whatever, so her grades were pretty humble. She was pretty, thin, taller than me or her sister, but really just absorbed into her computer. She kept her hair short and had no consistency to her dress, sometimes in a baggy shirt and jeans but other times dressed like a corporate executive or a woman on the prowl. I often thought that she was a lesbian and a few times Rachel had wondered the same thing to me, but she went to most of the dances with scrawny boys from one of the school nerd groups.

I went down to the basement, my high heels announcing my presence from the top of the stairs. I couldn't believe Gabe. He saw how mad I was that morning, and he had the audacity to just act like everything was normal. I would have had more respect for him if he had avoided me, but instead he showed just how little he understood about life by continuing to play those dumb games.

He was standing up at the TV messing with some chords. The dummy didn't even care that I was coming downstairs. He was in nothing but his boxers, a weird contrast to my grey skirt suit with a green blouse and patent leather heels. He must have worked out recently, his hair was a little damp at the edges. I looked across his muscles and Dana's words rang in my head, "Maybe it's attraction." The words were in her voice but not the tone she had used, slower, softer, maybe even seductive. I blocked her out of my mind and tried to ignore the fact that a muscular 22-year-old was standing in front of me in his underwear.

"We need a new TV, the cables fall out of this one," he said.

"Do you really think that's a smart way to greet me, today of all days?" I asked.

He turned around and faced me. I clenched my neck to keep from staring at his chest. "Hi, Mom," he said.

"I'm sorry I got so mad this morning. But we need to figure this out."

"Mom, I'll figure it out. It'll be fine," he said, standing to face me.

I collected myself and calmly answered, "Gabe, I see a grown man, no job, no education, playing video games in his mom's basement, wearing nothing but his underwear, asking his mom for a new TV. I can't let you live off me forever, but I want to work with you to find what you need."

"Fine, I'll get a job or something, whatever you want."

I stepped towards him. "Honey, I need to know what you need. There must be some reason you're not motivated."

"No reason, just school's so boring."

"Just tell me what you need," I said in my sweetest voice. "I'll do anything for you, give you whatever you want."

He gazed into my eyes for a moment then abruptly turned and spun to sit on the couch. As he protested that everything was fine, I realized that as he was sitting down, I had seen a bulge in his boxers. And now he was sitting with his arm somewhat across his lap as if to hold down an erection. Was he turned on by me saying I'd do anything? Was he really such a pervert to think that "anything" meant ANYTHING?

Why had I said that the way I did?

Dana's face appeared in my mind. The purple of her glasses had changed to red, and the shape pointed a bit more to give her the sexy librarian look. Her perfectly glossed lips slowly whispered "Attraction."

I told Gabe to dress before dinner and went up to start cooking.

* * *

I discreetly poured myself a glass of scotch and shot it. A few of my lawyers would have had an aneurysm for that, but I had no other liquor and I was so mad. At least I told myself I was mad. My head was also spinning about what Dana had said, and how my son was triggering her image in my mind. Maybe, I thought to myself as I felt the scotch take effect, I was attracted to Dana. She was certainly wrong about being attracted to Gabe: even if he wasn't a slob, I could never be attracted to my own children. Dana and I didn't talk about our wild past, but we'd been in plenty of threesomes and even orgies. The only reason we had never had one-on-one lesbian sex, in my mind, was fear for our friendship. Somehow having a guy there created enough distance that we couldn't ruin anything. Maybe those feelings were coming back. After all, the thoughts were about her.

And attraction to Dana is safer than attraction to my son.

* * *

Gabe sat down to dinner, decent as instructed. But then Lizbeth came padding in wearing just panties and a cropped t-shirt, clearly without a bra. Rachel and I were well-endowed enough, but Lizbeth got the tits of the family. Now her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her crop-top. "Lizbeth, what are you wearing?" I scolded.

"Jeans are too tight to wear all day," she complained.

"Well you need clothes for dinner," I shot back.

"You wear this all the time," she inaccurately noted.

"Plus yours is sexier," Gabe offered to his sister.

"Don't objectify your sister or any woman," I said. "And I dress for bed with sleepshirts that cover my ass. Now go put on some pants."

"Ooo, you got Mom to use a driving word," Gabe teased, pointing out my tendency to only swear when in traffic. And during sex, but they don't know that. I could barely wait until Rachel was back so I could have at least one kid not trying to make my life difficult.

"Guess I really better go then," Lizbeth laughed as she turned. I watched her body sway as she walked off. Her striped panties accentuated her tight butt, half her cheeks exposed and the fabric just slightly going into her crack. Men - and women - would be all over her if she could dress consistently.

A vision of Dana came to me, holding me from behind and whispering into my ear, "She's so sexy now."

Gabe's voice snapped me out of it. "Dang, you didn't even cus when you heard I dropped out."

Too soon. "Shut the fuck up, bitch," I snapped. "You can't bum off your mom and be an asshole, you have to choose."

He didn't respond and started eating. Lizbeth came in wearing flannel pants. "I wanted shorts, really short ones," my vision of Dana groaned into my imaginary ear. "Those legs," she whispered. I was definitely aroused, I could feel the juices flow onto my panties.

"Weird vibe in here," Lizbeth said.

"Your brother dropped out of school."

"Yeah," Lizbeth affirmed, "That was pretty clear from the yelling this morning."

I ate. I was still aroused, I must have developed a thing for Dana, I told myself. I preferred men sexually but I was attracted to women, and Dana was as attractive as they come. Our connection was so deep. If lesbian marriage had been legal in the 90s, maybe Dana would have been the one. She was the one who talked about incest, not me. And now my brain was reconciling my attraction to her with her comment on my son. I would need another glass of scotch after the kids scattered. And I might need to masturbate to Dana tonight. When was the last time I had masturbated? That scotch was working, and so was cussing out Gabe. Dinner was awkward, yet so peaceful.

* * *

I pounded another scotch, cleaned the kitchen, and watched TV in my room, still wearing my blouse and skirt. I was just so exhausted, and the urge to touch myself had subsided. Around 9:30, I realized that I was still angry, my teeth were clenching and my heart rate was elevated. I had just transferred my anger to all the anger-inducing things on TV. So I went down and took another glass of scotch, sipping this one more slowly to try to relax for bed.

As relaxed as I was going to be, I returned to my room and stripped off my blouse and skirt, then hung them in my closet. I looked at myself in my full-length mirror, just my lacy bright green panties and a matching bra. "These panties are sexy," I thought to myself. I ran my hand over them, feeling my bush pressing against the lace. The feeling on my hand was so sensual. "Dana would like me in these," I thought, and gripped my vulva through the panties. I groaned. "She would love the feel on her hand," I thought.

I stumbled over to my bed, unhooking my bra along the way. I laid myself down spread eagle and resumed touching myself over my panties. I fantasized of Dana laying next to me, her hand doing what mine was, kissing my neck and caressing my breast. I moved my other hand to my breast and softly grazed my hardened nipple. Then I put my hand under my panties and my image of Dana was delicately licking my clit. I was getting close quickly, rubbing my clit quickly with short dips into my hole, like Dana had once done with her tongue during a three way.

Suddenly my vision widened and we were in a three way. Dana was eating me and her son Damien was taking her from behind. "So wrong," I moaned, but the feeling on my womanhood became more intense. It wasn't me, it wasn't my son, it was Dana getting fucked dirty like she likes. I swallowed deeply as my head tried to resist playing what my body wanted, but that only added to my fantasy. There was a cock in my mouth, Dana was eating me while getting fucked by her son, and as she brought me to orgasm, I was sucking some guy off. And suddenly that guy flashed clear in my thoughts - Gabe, my own son. My brain screamed to stop, this was wrong, this was the alcohol making me a pervert, but my body demanded to continue, I was so close, almost there, and as I pursed me lips, my son's imaginary cock felt so good down my throat. Then there was Lizbeth, in the same outfit from before dinner, in my doorway with a hand down her panties, watching her mom and the woman who was like her aunt be taken by their sons for her first sexual experience. I had to stop, but I couldn't, not when I was so close. Suddenly Rachel was behind Lizbeth, cupping her free swinging breasts and moaning to her mom being the center of an incestuous orgy.

I came before I could stop. I came hard, sliming my fingers and staining my panties. Gabe was filling my mouth with thick, sticky cum, Dana was drinking my juices as her pussy sucked her son's fertile young sperm deep toward her unprotected cervix. Lizbeth's legs were giving out in what I imagined was her first-ever orgasm, as Rachel held her up and encouraged her to cum hard for Mommy. I was spent, embarrassed, ashamed. I was also ashamed that Rachel didn't get off in my fantasy. And so I was touching myself again, Rachel was straddling my face and Damien was inside me showing Gabe the proper way to fuck his mother. Rachel took her brother into her mouth so he could be pleasured while we fucked and Dana pulled Lizbeth onto her lap to show her the pleasures of being masturbated by another woman. No sooner had the vision come to my mind was I cumming again. I passed out.

Chapter 2: Surprise Lovers

I woke up completely naked, still over the covers. The sun was rising. My soaked panties were on my pillow next to me. I felt so good. I guess I was a little buzzier than I had thought, having those fantasies. But that was one time, harmless. I came hard and now I felt really good after a lousy day prior.

I thought about showering but decided that I felt too good. I went to my closet and brushed my hair into place, then looked for clothes. I saw my red skirt suit, one I rarely wore. It seemed so right. The skirt was as short as possible without being too slutty for work, and the jacket was long for a woman's suit, accentuating my legs and how short the skirt was. I felt so good putting the suit on over a black blouse and with no panties. I would just be at my desk all day so I decided to go au naturel under there. I pulled on my highest pair of black pumps and picked up my panties just in case a kid decided to snoop in my room. They were still soaked. Something came over me and I sniffed them, and the smell transported me to a forgotten memory of the night. I had masturbated a third time, smelling my panties in the process. I couldn't remember much else.

I went downstairs to pack a lunch, where Lizbeth was eating cereal. "You OK mom?" she asked.

"I feel great," I answered. "Why?"

"It was just weird seeing you go to the bathroom topless last night."

My memory came back. I had woken up to pee and just stumbled across the hall without thinking about it. And Lizbeth had seen me and asked the same thing, and I had mumbled that I just needed to pee. "Yeah," I answered, "Sorry about that. I had a scotch that made me hot. And I didn't think anyone'd see me. I guess it also clouded my judgement."

"It's OK," she said. "I didn't mind."

Why would she say she didn't mind? I thought to myself. But the memory came back, after peeing was when I had masturbated again. I had taken off my panties to sniff them, heighten the fantasy of Dana. Except it wasn't Dana, it was Lizbeth because I had orally pleasured my other two kids and not her.

"I probably shouldn't drink more than one scotch in an evening," I said to Lizbeth, ostensibly to Lizbeth about our strange encounter, but really to myself because of my night of incestuous fantasy. I shook it off, packed my lunch, and left for work.

* * *

I felt so slutty spending all day in a short skirt, high heels, and no underwear. The day was mundane, neither good nor bad, but the dirty feeling and the carryover from my three-orgasm night (or maybe more that I don't remember) left me in a great place. Gabe and Lizbeth were easier that evening, we had a pleasant dinner, and all in all the day wasn't bad.

Something got into me right before bed, though, and I brought up a glass and the bottle of scotch. This time I drank way to much, much too quickly. I woke up in the morning remembering nothing but that I had wanted to recreate the previous night's good feelings and had taken the bottle upstairs. A lot was gone and I was hung over. I couldn't remember the last time I was so relieved for Friday. The only saving grace was that I'm usually horny when I'm hung over but this time I wasn't. Boyfriends used to hate that about me, because we'd usually be hung over together.