The next day, while at work, Angela was surprised to receive three increasingly desperate sounding texts from Susan, pleading for her to get in touch. She waited until she was home before finally responding.
"Oh, Angie, thank you so much for calling...I'm feeling terrible."
Angela was stabbed with remorse.
"Are you ok? Has something happened?"
"No, it's not that. I mean, nothing new. I just...hadn't heard from you, after we talked about, you know, Jeremy. And I...I just don't want to lose your friendship."
"Well, I was pretty shocked I suppose."
"I can understand, oh God, don't think I can't. I would be as well...it's just, well, I don't have anyone else to talk to. I haven't told anyone else. I haven't dared to. And you've been my best friend for so long, it would just kill me to lose you..."
Angela's heart clenched at her friend's anguish. But she checked her tongue from reassuring. "You sound different about this than last time we talked."
"I, guess, I'm just realizing how enormous it is, what I've done. I've been thinking a lot. When we talked, well, I think I was just so excited. The idea of being wanted, still being wanted as a woman was so new."
"But didn't you plan it?"
"I don't think I really planned it, Angela. That sounds terrible. Really, I think...I was just sad and it got out of hand. I didn't really expect it to go so far."
"Are you saying that you are having regrets? That you won't let it happen again?"
There was a long pause. And then Susan replied in a small voice. "No. It's too late for that. We did it again last night after dinner."
Angela felt a surge in her chest. Her tone came out sharply. "Wow. I really thought that you of all people would be able to control yourself!"
"I can't Angela! You can't possibly understand. I hardly do myself. It's just...so compelling."
"What's so compelling? See, you can't even say it any more!"
There was a pause, and then a meek voice on the phone. "Doing it with my son is so compelling."
Angela could imagine Susan hanging her head even as she spoke into the phone. She took a deep breath. The emotion pounding her chest was not only a brew of jealousy and arousal. It was also a kind of triumph. Forcing Susan into the open was making her put all her cards onto the table.
"So Susan, here's the thing. It's not really what you've done. Or are choosing to continue to do. It's more the secrecy of the thing. I mean, you didn't really tell me how this came about. I mean, how can I really expect to understand if you are hiding things from me."
"Hiding? Like what you mean?"
"Oh, you know, how this really came about. I can't follow what you said when we talked. It's like you want me to think this just happened and got out of control, and yet it also seems really planned. Like you tricked him intentionally."
"I didn't...trick him. It's just...we got talking."
"Well that's what you need to tell me about properly. You sat on his bed in your revealing nightie -"
"It wasn't that revealing!"
"That was the very word you used!"
"That was, you know, the second night."
"You see, you're trying to trick me again now. Intentionally saying one thing and meaning another." Angela knew that she was pushing her friend, letting the guilt and anxiety Susan must feel confuse her. Even as she did so, she was both surprised, even aghast, at her willingness to so torment her friend - and aware that a deep part of herself was enjoying it. Turning the tables.
"I don't mean to trick you. I'm sorry." Susan implored.
"So I think you need to tell me all. Like what were the fantasies that you and Jeremy shared."
"Those? Well, you know, pretty personal."
"Why are you hiding from me?"
"I'm not hiding Angela. I'm sorry. I...I talked about my Cinderella fantasies I suppose you might call them. All those chick flicks we've watched. Well, that's pretty much my fantasy. Going out to fancy places, being bought expensive clothes."
Angela rolled her eyes. Much though she loved her friend, she could be unimaginatively suburban in her tastes.
"And", said Angela, crossing her fingers, "how about Jeremy. What are his fantasies?"
"Oh, they're pretty kinky. I mean, I suppose not really kinky in this day and age. Sort of, you know, a woman's submissiveness I suppose. Not really Fifty Shades of Grey, I'm sure, but maybe a little like that. And, well, he said he's recently found that he can be really turned on by lingerie. Old fashioned silk stockings, you know, the sort with garters. Sexy knickers and stuff. I guess he's probably seen them a lot in those racy London shop displays."
Angela felt a flutter deep down in her groin. And a point won. Yes, she thought, maybe your son saw them in a shop window. Or maybe he found them one night shoved down inside his bed sheets, all sticky and marked with a woman's pleasure.
"Are you still there?" Susan was asking.
"Yes, yes, just, you know, processing all this."
"What can I say that would help keep you as my friend Angela?"
"Well I'm not going to suggest that you stop having sex with your son," Angela spat back tartly. "Because you're going to continue, aren't you?"
"Yes. If he'll keep wanting me." Susan's tone was not exactly defiant. More bluntly honest, like she had struggled with this same question herself.
Angela softened. "I'm sorry Susan. I've been too hard on you. I'm not really criticizing you. I do get it, I do. And I'm sure it many ways it's wonderful. For both of you actually."
"You really think so?" Susan sounded cautious.
"For sure. He's a lucky boy. Which growing young man wouldn't want this, really?"
"Are...are you making fun of me?"
"No. No, I'm sorry, did that sound glib? No, I really meant it. I've actually being doing a little reading myself, on the web. Doing some searches I guess. Trying to understand. And frankly - well, there's certainly a lot of writing about mother and son. Erotica for sure. But also some blog stuff. And, well, a lot of the most personal ones sound pretty positive. Like it was a beautiful phase in their lives for both of them, if they can get past the judgment and the guilt."
"Really? You don't think it's not all just, you know, porn - like that movie I showed Jeremy. Just acting."
"No, I'm not talking about porn. There's a lot of that too, but I agree that's mostly kind of fake stuff. Just packaged. No, I mean real stories."
"You don't think I'm...unique, then?"
Angela laughed. "God no! Sorry, if you thought you have finally become less ordinary, you're probably more in the suburban mainstream than you realize."
Susan laughed also at this with a sound of relief. "You don't think I'm going to mess Jeremy up for life?"
"What do you think?"
"Um, I worry about it. But, I don't know, he seems so positive about it. Straight forward, grounded even. Like he shows up so physically, not caught up in his mind like I tend to be. Guess that's what can be great about guys."
"Hmmm." Angela could only murmur in support at the image of the masculine and physical Jeremy.
"You okay? Am I, am I disgusting you?"
"No, um, no, I'm fine. Let me just, actually, let me just go into the living room and sit down." In reality, Angela was already sitting on the living room couch. She put the phone down, stood up and reached behind to unhook her bra. She hesitated, then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, and eased them a few inches down her hips. Just to feel more comfortable, a little more sensual perhaps, she told herself. She settled back down, one hand holding the phone, the other hand softly open on her belly.
"Um, okay, I'm listening." She let her palm slide up to cup the base of her breasts as she allowed herself to once again visualize Susan, on that second evening, sitting like this with her son.
"You sure this is okay for you?" asked Susan.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes, yes I do, it's been driving me crazy, the same thoughts going round and round in my head, and I don't have anyone else I can share this with."
"Maybe you really need to get it off your chest. Say it out in the open."
"Yes, yes, I think that would really be good."
"What are you really afraid of?"
"I guess the only thing I don't want - I don't want him to get stuck in this. I want to enjoy it to the full while I have it, but I want him to be able to move on with a real girlfriend when he's ready."
"Well, perhaps he'll be more ready because of you."
"Oh, Angela, you are such an amazing friend! I love you", Susan gushed. Angela revelled at the words, but at the same time, it annoyed her that it didn't seem to even occur to Susan that Angela might be a rival for her son's attention. Why didn't it? She was five years younger than Susan, surely in better shape, but somehow Susan still seemed to think her as too old to be able to attract him. Or...maybe she trusted Angela's loyalty so automatically that she couldn't imagine such a betrayal? Angela knew she should feel even more guilty at this thought, but she pushed it away.
"Susan, that's sweet, but I need to be able to believe you. I mean, this second time happened and you didn't tell me - like you intended to hide it from me. You need to tell me...everything."
"I will, I promise."
"Well then, start by speaking about this directly. You keep talking in euphemisms."
"What, what should I say?" Susan was back sounding anguished, but this time Angela knew exactly how she wanted to push her.
"Say it in simple words. Admit to me what you are doing."
"You mean...doing it with Jeremy?"
"Doing it?"
"Sorry...that I'm...that I'm having sex with Jeremy."
Angela took a soft breath, trying to hide her own tension. Had Susan gone all the way? "Yes, your son. Say it."
"Um, I'm having sex with my son."
"And are you enjoying it?"
