Forty-five year-old Mark Renson lifted his beer bottle to make a toast. "Here's to Chris, who turns eighteen today," he said. "Today he becomes a man, officially, that is."
Lydia, Mark's second wife, took a sip of wine and smiled. "To Chris," she said.
"Yeah," Margie, Mark's twenty year-old daughter said. "To Chris." She giggled a bit before adding, "And to his manhood."
Chris felt like his face was on fire from embarrassment. "Uh...thanks," he mumbled before taking a swig of beer.
"And," Mark said. "Here's to Lydia who turned thirty-six only two days ago. Just think, Chris. Lydia turned legal when you were born."
"Mark," Lydia said under her breath. "I think you've had enough to drink."
"You know, I think maybe in Guam the legal age is sixteen," Mark said, oblivious to the tension he was creating in the dining room. "So maybe Lydia was having..."
"Enough about
my
birthday," Lydia said. "Let's just let Chris enjoy his, okay?"
"As if," Margie muttered. "Well, happy birthday, Chris. I gotta get headed back to school."
"Oh, come on," Mark said. "You can stay the night."
"No. I have classes tomorrow, so..." Margie stood up, gave Chris on the cheek, gave Mark a kiss on the cheek, ignored Lydia and headed out the front door.
"Wait," Chris said. "I'll walk out with you."
Once outside Chris grabbed Margie's arm and whispered, "Why are you so rude to Lydia?"
"I can't stand her," Margie said. "Jesus. Stereotypical Asian woman, the kind stupid old men fall for. She probably
was
fucking when she was sixteen."
"And you weren't?"
"Ha ha. Whatever. She broke up Dad's marriage, right?"
"Actually, she didn't," Chris said. "You know Dad met her after he and Mom broke up. Mom had a drinking problem and..."
Margie waved her hand and turned her back on Chris. "I don't wanna hear it. I just don't like her. Fuckin' flat-chested skinny bitch. Someday that Asian ass of hers will be as flat as a pancake and then let's see what Dad sees in her."
"She was always nice to us," Chris said. "I mean, I was eight when she married Dad. She was a great stepmom, you know. She took us skiing, sailing, and..."
"Whatever," Margie snorted. "She's got him going to church now. What's up with
that
? We used to wear our atheism like a badge and now he's going to church? Jesus. That's all her doing, I bet. And they're trying to have a kid, you know. Just what we need. Some little kid in the house. You see how men look at her, right? They fuck her with their eyes. If she has a kid, well, that's the end of the marriage I bet. She'll...she'll...I gotta go."
"Okay," Chris said with a sigh. "See you whenever."
"Yeah. Happy birthday."
As he watched Margie drive away Chris thought about what she had said about Lydia. It was true—men did ogle her and why not? Even at thirty-six she was gorgeous. Her long black hair hung to her waist and her tits—Margie was wrong about that part of her anatomy. She was small-breasted but not flat-chested. Even if she were...he shuddered at the memory of the many times he spied on her when she showered. Her nipples always seemed to be at full attention on top of her breasts and her ass was as perfect as a woman's ass could be.
When he spied on Lydia he got his biggest thrill when she rinsed her hair, raising her arms over her head and flattening her breasts against her chest. Then her nipples
really
stood out. Once he actually thought he saw her using the pulsating shower head to masturbate, but her back was to him so all he could do was imagine what was happening.
Despite the fact that his cock was so hard it ached, Chris was ashamed at some of the things he had done. Once he got his cell phone and videoed Lydia as she showered. Another time he crept up to the master bedroom and videoed Lydia giving his father a blow job. Because of her position he really couldn't see much of the blow job but he could see her ass pointed toward the ceiling and that was enough. So many times he had watched the videos and jerked off as he imagined her screaming as he butt-fucked her. Finally, disgusted with himself, he deleted the videos.
Chris waited until his shame passed before going back inside. He was relieved when he saw that his father wasn't around and that Lydia was in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes. That gave him a few more precious seconds to compose himself.
"Hi, Lydia," he said. "Where's Dad?"
"I think the beer got to him," she said. "He went up to bed. Can you help me finish this up?"
"Oh, um, sure. What do you want me to do?"
"See that pile of dishes? I rinsed them but they still have to go in the dishwasher. If you hand them to me I'll put them in."
Chris grabbed the dinner plates and handed them to Lydia one at a time, watching as she bent over the dishwasher. Her breasts, unfettered by a bra, swayed ever so slightly as she placed the dishes in the racks. He scolded himself for looking at her but he just couldn't help himself. Finally, he sighed with relief when she stood up and smiled at him.
"Thanks," she said. "I have something for you." She reached up into a cabinet and retrieved a small gift-wrapped box. "Happy birthday."
Chris took the box and grinned. "What is it?"
"Open it and see."
Chris started unwrapping the box but eventually just tore the paper off. "Oh, man. It's a smart watch."
"I didn't know what else to get you," Lydia said. "I hope you like it. Anyway, I bet you'll be happy when school's over in a month, huh?"
"Yeah, but then I start college in three months. It just doesn't end, does it?"
Lydia laughed. She stood on her toes, gave Chris a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "No, it doesn't. I gotta go to bed. Your Dad is up at five and I have to get up with him to make breakfast—as usual. It just doesn't end." She laughed again and headed out of the kitchen. She paused for a second and turned to face Chris. "You know that stuff about how you're a man now? In my eyes you've been a man for a long time. My God. You were six feet tall when you were sixteen and now—I think you're a foot taller than me. Anyway, happy birthday." She spun around and, with her hips swaying, left the kitchen.
Chris watched her intently as she walked away from him, focusing on her butt as it moved from side to side, his cock getting hard again as he thought about her ass in the blow job video he had made. "Christ," he mumbled. "You're an animal."
As he lay in bed he battled against the images of Lydia that danced in his head, images of her on her knees with his cock in her mouth, or images of her on her back with her legs in the air. He lost the battle, though. Groaning, he stood up and rushed to his bathroom to clean up the jism pooling on his stomach.
<><><><>
Chris stretched and glanced at the clock next to his bed. "Five-thirty. Fuck. Might as well get up." Chris slipped on a pair of sweatpants, rolled out of bed and yawned. "I hope Lydia made enough coffee so some is left for me."
As he headed down stairs he heard what sounded like sobbing coming from the living room. When he peered into the room he saw Lydia, wearing one of his father's dress shirts, hunched over, rocking back and forth. "Lydia? Are you okay?"
Startled, she stared up at him with tears streaming down her face. "Yeah. I...I..."
Chris, horrified, asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"
Lydia shifted her weight on the couch before standing up. "Everyone hates me in this family."
"Oh, Lydia," Chris said. "That's not true."