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MONICA
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"You know what would be funny?"
Keira was on her third martini dry, and I feared what she might say next.
"We prank our sons back!"
She threw her head back, laughing like a maniac. Keira was referring to how they pranked us a few weeks ago, dressing as Mormons, with such attention to detail that, even after one hour of conversation, we couldn't tell who they were.
"I'll toast to that!" I said, drinking my prosecco in one go. "They surely deserve it."
It was only when they couldn't contain their laughter we realized who they were. I wasn't upset with the prank, but with the fact of being made fun to friends and family like a wildfire during summer in California. Even my boss asked me about that, over the millions of views on social media.
How dumb can you be to not recognize your son?
"What do you suggest?"
Keira had a plan - it didn't look like she just came up with it, but instead, she took inspiration from something else. Her perfect red nails tapped away on the screen of her phone, and then she showed it to me. A dating app profile.
I poured another glass from that pink bottle, the bubbles sparkling away, and observed what she created. It didn't look like her at all, and neither was her name Keira. "What's this?" I asked, confused by the loud noise around us and the dim lights.
"We get them on a fake date and make fun of them."
"Sounds lame," I replied without thinking. "It says here you are single."
She tapped her nails on the table, sticky with alcohol. "Should I say the truth? He will find out if I give him too many clues."
I flicked through the profile and felt a tension building up in my body as if we were about to do something we shouldn't. "They aren't that smart, you know?" But those words melted in my mouth with a bitter finish, remembering how dumb we were to be fooled in the first place. I blamed that on the alcohol-inebriated afternoon, watching romantic comedies and all of a sudden two tall and handsome Mormons showed up at our doorstep.
My initial thought was to forget about the savior and bone me senseless.
"They're nineteen, off course they aren't smart! That's why!"
"Where did you get these photos anyway?" I asked. She managed to hide her face in all of the pics, even the main one, a large hat casting a shadow over her face, a sort of different colored hair, and over exposition. I wouldn't tell it was her too.
"A photoshoot a while ago."
"And what's the plan? A fake date? They will tell it's us, and besides, don't think my Ben uses whatever dating app young kids use these days."
Keira condemned my sort of speech. "You sound like a forty-year-old man now. You know the saying, young, dumb, and full of cum - hey, it's true, don't make that face." She drank the rest of the drink, waiving for another one, her hair flowing down her plastic breasts, mirroring mine, and I realized what this was all about in the first place - to feel young again. With a flick of her hair, she raised her glass, and we toasted. "They'll have their ass handed over in a silver plate, just wait, and you'll see."
The next few days were spent creating an account for myself. I couldn't look "me," and we bought a wig - an expensive one, realistic, blonde, contrasting with my ginger tones. We went to the countryside and took a few photos with a friend of ours that was an amateur photographer.
An afternoon watered with prosecco while we set up an account, the kinks, the perks, the obvious lies.
"What do you like, Monica?" Keira asked, making a face.
My mind went straight to sex. Sex with her son, James, young and athletic, far from what my husband had become.
"I'm very vanilla, I think."
"Vanilla? That sucks! Can I write you're a full cow in bed?"
We laughed the afternoon away, and when our sons got home from school, we kissed them, and they went up to Ben's bedroom to play video games. It helped that we live side by side.
I took the chance when my son was showering, with James and Keira gone already, to check if he had the dating app installed, and was surprised to see the icon on his phone. Curiosity took me by surprise, and I touched the symbol, loading up the app while my heart raced in my chest. He was still showering, the water was loudly running down his young body, and chiseled abs, I imagined, down to his long, hard -
"Control yourself," I groaned under my teeth, and as I was going to forget about his phone, his profile showed. He had a nice picture, but he didn't look like nineteen, but older. Was that on purpose? Quickly, I pressed the message part, and there was a pattern about the woman he was chatting with - they all were older, probably as old as me.
My husband's voice called me from the lobby, and I quickly left my son's bedroom and walked down the stairs. According to Keira, the attack would be in a couple days' time.
The ultimate goal was to make them send us lewd pictures to give us some leverage and set up a fake date, where we presented ourselves in full glory, handing over the card "don't mess with your mother," and we'd got everything on camera plus millions of views. Maybe we were slightly drunk coming up with a plan.
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BEN
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We were playing COD when a notification came through. Then another. And another. I looked at J, and both laughed. Saturday night and milfs get thirsty, and we wouldn't just stop the game for that.
It has been a few months since we realized how chances increased by adding a few years to our age. A bearded picture in a smart outfit, and changing the age range we were looking for.
We just had to figure out the next part of actually talking with a woman old enough to be our mother and take it through the next level, to have them open their legs for us.
J and I are like brothers: we end up reading each other's minds and scratching our balls at the same time as soon as we turn on our phones.
Alright!" said J "bro, I got the jackpot," he said, showing me an enigmatic profile. Damn, she was gorgeous, even though her face was difficult to see. A long thick blonde hair.
"Fine rack," I added, brofisting J as he grabbed his nuts again. "And she's forty-six, fuck that's hot, bro."
"Just like your mom," he said immediately, without thinking.
"Or yours," I smiled. "Fuck, anytime these milfs hit, I always think about your mom. One day, I'll bang her. It's a shame she ain't ginger. "
J looked at me seriously for a few seconds, and then a smirk and a wink. "We are cursed with two hot moms and absent fathers. Honest to god, we'd be doing them a favor."
Since I can remember, we talked about banging our moms. Fucking golddiggers, but we never cared. And then, I swiped right on a picture of a fantastic older woman, and seconds after, my phone buzzed with a match.
Inside my shorts, a swelling all over my cock, as I swiped over her pics. Fucking gorgeous, with thick blonde hair and nice big titties, and there was a picture of her in a skirt with black stockings that made me hard. Again, if she was a ginger, I would have cummed all over me.
"You have a boner," J said, not in an accusatory tone.
"So do you."
And I showed him my match, a 47-year-old beauty.
"It doesn't show their distance, but I bet they're together. I mean, how come this is a coincidence?"
