There are some things you need to know before you begin reading this story, things of how life was in deep South Georgia in the seventies. First, if you wished to make a call, all you needed to dial was the last four numbers for the call to go through. Second, as we liked to put it, "They (meaning city officials) roll up the sidewalks at five o'clock," which meant that no businesses remained open with exception to gas stations and fast-food restaurants, of which there was only one, a Hardees. Third, we were still under the Blue Law, which meant that no businesses save for gas stations and Hardees could legally operate on a Sunday. Fourth, Wednesdays were half-days for businesses (again, except for gas stations and Hardees), which meant that all businesses closed at noon. This was to ensure that no one worked so late as to miss church because Wednesday night service was deemed just as important as Sunday night service. Finally, as an extension to the Wednesday rule, schools did not give out homework on Wednesdays so that kids could concentrate on church lessons. As you read, you will see how all these things work as I tell my tale.
It was four p.m. on a Monday afternoon. I was sitting at the kitchen table trying my damnedest to figure out the algebra problems—all cube routes—and wondering why the hell it mattered anyway. I could see it now: I walk into a bank to cash my check and the teller asks me for ID, which I have, and then she tells me that I have to identify the cube route in a particular problem. I can't, therefore she refuses to deposit my check. I lose my mortgage, my new car, my wife leaves me, my children ridicule me ... It was enough to make me scream, and I did. Afterwards, I set it to the side so my younger sister Bella could help me with it later this evening. She was five years younger than me, but she and math had a special relationship that I sometimes thought was a bit too improper.
I penned two original poems for English class. Now all that was left was for me to study for a History test about the Louisiana Purchase. History was my thing. I already knew the material, so it would just be a bit of review. I decided to get my shower since I had no plans on going out tonight. Once finished, I was right back at the kitchen table, studying in silence. Mom walked in at five-fifteen. She kissed me on the forehead, then made her way to the kitchen. She called out, "What's new today?"
"I've decided that I'm going to let you be the one to take my virginity," I called back. It was two seconds. Just two seconds before her favorite CorningWare casserole dish left her hands and hit the floor, but each of those seconds could be counted by eternity. The crash was immediate. I imagined shards of it flying all around the kitchen and two weeks from now we would still manage to get one in our feet no matter how well we all swept and mopped. For the moment, though, Mom walked into the dining room.
"What did you just say?"
"I said—"
"I heard what you said," she snapped. "Why would you say such a thing?"
"I have reached this decision through pure logic," I told her. "You know me like no other woman does, Mom, and I know you, so the comfort level would be as it should. Second, we'd have to sneak to do it, yes, but it could be done. Third, I think you're beautiful, Mom. You are always wearing the current trend, you keep yourself in peak physical condition, but for who? How many dates have you been on since the divorce? Three? Three dates in three years? Finally, I love you, and for all the reasons listed above, I'm in love with you as well."
She seemed to be going over my argument, then she looked up and near-shouted, "Where are your brother and sister?"
"They're both next door." Bella and Gabby Chase were friends while my brother Paul and Gabby's brother Mark were.
"Heaven forbid they should hear this."
"I would never speak of this in their presence, Mom."
"You will never speak of it again. Understand?"
"I do understand, but may I ask just one question?"
She sighed deeply. "What?"
"If you find the notion of this abominable, then why are your nipples hard?"
She looked down and saw what I did, her nipples poking through her bra and through her blouse; there was just enough firmness that one could barely make out her areola. She embarrassingly placed her cupped hands in front of her breasts and stood with a "Harrumph!" as she made her way back into the kitchen.
"Want me to sweep up the glass?" I asked.
"I got it," she hollered.
I remained at the table and read over the Louisiana Purchase. Bella and Paul came home, asked when dinner would be ready, and when Mom told them thirty minutes, I had Bella remain behind while my brother got his shower. She helped me with the math, called me a moron, and used Mom's shower to bathe.
I set the table, stealing glances at Mom's rear every time I entered the kitchen. She caught me and gave me a severely cross look. I finished by pouring Bella and Paul a glass of milk each while Mom and I had iced tea. Once the table was set, I helped her bring the food out. She said the blessing, then we took turns filling our plates with the impromptu Hamburger Helper and broccoli she had thrown together in lieu of the lasagna we would have had if not for the broken casserole dish, of which she told me I was responsible and would have to replace.
I told Mom to get her bath while I cleaned the kitchen. She cited that it was Paul's night, but I told her that I would do it because I wanted to pull out the appliances and sweep well to ensure no glass remained. She commended me for such thinking. Paul thought this gave him an opportunity to watch a little TV, but, "No way, little bro. You still have homework."
"Aw, man," he said as he sat at the table. He remained there for the better part of ninety minutes, most of which was spent goofing off. As a side note, it took Bella next to no time to complete hers. Most of it was math, but she did have some English and Georgia History as well.
Bella and Paul were able to watch a couple of their favorite shows before bedtime. Mom came in and kissed them both goodnight, then prayed with each. As she passed me on her way back to her room, she said, "I'm going to pray especially hard for you tonight."
It was going on eleven. I made my way to the bathroom to use it before going to bed, but I stopped short as I heard noises coming from Mom's room. It sounded as if she were moaning. The door was cracked, so I peeked inside to find her masturbating. Oh, I really couldn't see anything, but there was just enough light for me to discern her hands between her legs. I felt my cock harden. I pulled it out and began jerking it as I watched. I lasted no time at all. When I came, I made sure to point my cock toward the crack in her door so as to cum inside. I then entered the bathroom, peed, washed my hands, and went to bed.
The following morning, after Paul and Bella left to catch the bus, I was gathering my books to place in my bookbag. Mom came out of her room and said, "Were you at my door last night?"
I could have lied and saved us both some embarrassment, but why should I? "Yes," I answered. "Were you masturbating?"
"What?!?" she screamed. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?"
"It just seemed like you were, which made me do the same."
"You masturbated at the thought of me masturbating?" she asked in total disbelief.
"It wasn't the first time," I told her. "Besides, it was hot, Mom."
She shook her head at me. "Get to school."
I kept a hard-on all day thinking about her touching herself, and soon the reality gave way to me fantasizing about walking in and her accepting me as her lover. I had to excuse myself from Spanish class so I could go to the restroom and jerk off. It helped, but not much.
Homework was light today, so I decided I would do the cooking; it would save Mom the trouble once she got home. I put my limited skills to work, but I was able to recreate her baked pork chops over rice. I opened a few cans of sweet peas and boiled them for our vegetable. Mom got in at her usual five-fifteen and I announced that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes, at which point I called next door and had Mrs. Chase send Bella and Paul home. They both raved to Mom about how good dinner was, but when she told them I had made it, Bella made like she was going to throw up while Paul died on the spot from food poisoning. It was pretty funny. It was nice to see Mom smile. She had a beautiful smile. I told her as much.
I offered to do the dishes. She said she would help while Paul and Bella got their respective showers, so I washed while she dried. She kept stealing glances at me, then finally asked, "Do you really think I have a beautiful smile, Adam?"
"Mom, I think everything about you is beautiful," I answered.
"Thank you," she said as she kissed me on the cheek. "It's nice to know someone does." I turned from her immediately, for my cock had gotten hard from the feel of her warm lips on my face. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, Mom."
"Then why are you all hunched over like that?"
"Mom, please. It's nothing."
"Turn around, Adam. Right now." I did, and her eyes immediately went to my crotch, like she knew what to expect. She didn't comment on my erection, though. All she said was, "The rest of those dishes aren't going to wash themselves." I finished washing, she finished drying, and my erection finally died somewhere in between.
A few nights later, Mom entered the living room after Paul and Bella went to bed. She stood directly in front of the TV and looked this way and that—I could tell by her silhouette that she wasn't wearing panties—and said, "Have you seen—? Oh, there it is." She then walked toward me, bent slowly (I did look down her night gown as her breasts became exposed), and retrieved her crossword puzzle book. She returned to her room seemingly without a second thought while I sat there with a thousand different thoughts racing through my head.
