Mar's Birthday Party

“Geez, Mom! Can’t you just forget about this?”

My son was groaning again. He had been doing it for the better part of a month now. In addition, he would be doing it for the rest of the week. Of course, by the end of the weekend there would be a lot more groaning.

Call it old fashioned, but some things shouldn’t go by unnoticed. My son, Mark, was the last in his group of friends to turn 18 and I thought there should be a party. Notice it says, ‘I thought’ not ‘Mark thought.’ Mark thought I should leave things alone. However, I knew there had to be some rite of passage into formal adulthood and not knowing or having a clue, I decided a party would be in order.

The problem was, without any adult male influence, I had no idea what was socially acceptable. My husband, Mark’s Dad, had been killed several years earlier by a drunk driver. It was a difficult time for Mark and I, but over time, we adjusted to the situation. The hard part was me having a teen son and no husband or father to guide him. Fortunately, my sister and her husband, Ginny and Stan, were very helpful and lived in town. It was not uncommon for me to ask, or have them offer advice in what was in the best interest of their nephew. Fortunately for Mark, Stan interceded on this occasion as well.

“You know, 18 year old boys aren’t really into parties. At least not the kind you are telling me about,” I heard Stan say over the phone.

“But I want to do something,” I whined.

“How about a compromise?” he offered.

“Like what?”

“Well maybe something a little more adult oriented. I mean you are talking about marking the so-called passage from child to adult right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well maybe it’s just me, but if I were 18 and had to have a party, I would want it to be something cool. A guy type thing. And something they would all remember for the rest of their lives,” my brother-in-law told me.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well, “he started, “I’m not sure how to explain it delicately.”

“Just tell me what you think,” I practically begged. I had no idea that what I had offered to Mark as a good will gesture was about to do more harm than good, but I was beginning to understand

“Most boys, young men if you will, have a set idea of what a guy party should be. A male bonding sort of thing. I would just think that something like that might go over better with Mark,” Stan tried to explain.

“Stan, I love you and Ginny and appreciate all the help and advice, but I honestly have no idea what you are trying to tell me,” I said into the phone. I could feel the awkwardness in Stan’s voice and I didn’t understand. “I’m not a prude, just tell me what you are thinking.”

“Try this. Offer to take Mark and his friends to our cabin up at the lake. Get some beer and then stay out of their way. They will do the rest on their own.”

“Oh, I see,” I said as the bright light finally came on.

“I’m sorry, I know how you must feel about people drinking, but you asked and that’s one of the things a young guy equates into becoming a man,” Stan said, as if to explain.

“Stan, I have no problem with people drinking. In fact, I like the idea because it will allow me to show Mark and his friends how to drink responsibly. Yeah, I know I got on the bandwagon about drunk driving, but that was driving, not sitting in one place drinking. I like it. I like it a lot,” I told my brother-in-law.

“There is just one other thing. Something maybe I could provide to help, but again, I’m not sure how you would feel about it.”

“Please.”

“Well young guys and hormones and… Aw, shit, they’ll find it anyway, Mary. In the back of one of the entertainment center cabinets is a rather extensive selection of adult DVDs. I wouldn’t be too surprised if they ended up watching them too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Well guys are guys, and sometimes when me and the guys go up, we don’t actually go fishing. We tend to sit around the cabin drinking and watch, well, that stuff,” Stan told me.

“And does Ginny know about this?” I asked teasing now.

“Uh. No, she doesn’t. She thinks that when we come back empty handed that the fish weren’t biting. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to her.”

“Empty handed, huh? Stan, you must think I’m an old spinster for God’s sake. Don’t mention alcohol. Don’t mention porn or sex. Poor old Mary,” I laughed.

Stan had a nervous laugh of his own. “Well I just wasn’t sure is all.”

“Well for your information, sir, I’m a lot more open minded than you give me credit for. Maybe a bit out of practice and not up on things, but not a spinster or a prude,” I informed Stan, thinking that if anyone was a prude it was his wife Ginny.

“Sorry, just my conditioning you know.”

“No, I don’t,” I teased.

“I just think Ginny would have a cow if she knew what me and the guys were doing up there. In fact she’ll have a cow about you letting the boys party there too,” he said.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t tell her then. She can’t fret about what she doesn’t know about.”

“That’s true.”

Mark was feeling a bit better about the party plans. I didn’t tell him everything, but I told him he should find friends that would be able to spend the weekend at his Uncle’s cabin at the lake.

I drove out Friday morning with some supplies, being the ever prepared person that I am. Another conversation with Stan about beer produced the idea of a keg, albeit convenient since Stan told me there was a can cut to hold one at the cabin. I made a mental note to ask Stan more about his activities at the lake. I had a feeling him and his friends very seldom caught any fish.

While waiting for the keg to be delivered, I sat about cleaning up a bit. You could tell it was a guy place and I actually realized that my influence on Mark had been off. In an effort to guide and shelter him, I was basically stripping away his maleness. Looking around I found nothing but the essence of men. Just the basic necessities. Worn furniture, chipped and stained tables, and not a mirror in any room except the bathroom. In fact, other than some antlers and a couple of “signs” on the wall, there was no decoration or theme whatsoever.

I actually laughed when I first looked at the room, all dressed in male shabbiness, except for one item. That being a big screen TV. It was obviously the focal point of the room. There was a satellite box hook-up and finding the remote between too cushions on the sofa I turned it on.

Yeah. This was a guy hang out. With no one expecting me, or any other female, to turn the TV on to find it on a satellite porn channel. Empty handed. It was funnier now than when Stan had said it the week earlier. DVDs. Stan mentioned that too. Being the nosy woman that I am, I began to open doors to the entertainment center. At first, all I saw were typical guy movies. Lots of violence and such. Looking in the back, I found the more interesting ones. Not very well hidden, obviously prim Ginny didn’t spend much time at the lake.

I pulled the disc out of the case and stuck it in the player. Unlike the fairly softcore stuff on the satellite dish, the scenes (or at least previews) were down and dirty, hardcore porn. I watched with mild amusement at the scene that began. I was immediately amazed at how far porn movies had come since the early ones I had watches a few times with my husband. No, still not Hollywood quality scripts, but the clarity and detail were amazing.

Contrary to my brother-in-laws belief, I’m not a prude. The only reason I didn’t date or remarry after my husband’s death was to keep from trying to fit a new person into Mark’s life. Yes, I still thought about sex, and didn’t stray too far from the trusty toys well hidden in my nightstand. However, the sudden, blatant images of carnal lust on the screen were beginning to takes it’s toll on me. I could feel myself becoming aroused and suddenly wishing I were the porn actress on the screen being thoroughly fucked by the impressive stud servicing her. I had watched the progression from momentary foreplay (must be where men get the idea not much is needed), to oral and then to the required various positions of fucking. I knew that the cumshot would be soon and for some reason, I was transfixed waiting for it to happen. I watched and waited and… Shit, the delivery truck.

I quickly turned off the TV and went to the door. I directed the man to put the keg on the back porch, where Stan had the tub ready (apparently he DID spend a lot of time at the lake). Looking at my watch I finished straightening the cabin and then made my way back to the city. Unfortunately as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get the lusty scenes from the movie out of my mind. I found myself so horny that I did something I hadn’t in years.

I stopped at the convenience store and bought a carton of cigarettes. I was only going to buy one pack, but the smart shopper in me kicked in when the clerk told me they were cheaper by the carton. I hadn’t smoked much since my husband had died. He actually had a smoking fetish and after our years together, I equated smoking to sex and vice versa. Thinking the smoke would calm me down, I found that the old quivering feeling came back on the first drag. I was light-headed and horny as a teenaged boy…. Crap, the boys.

I rushed home to find Mark and his friends waiting. I knew all or Mark’s friends that were going to the lake that weekend. All seemed to be nice guys that had been to the house many times before. In all, there would be seven boys, excuse me, young men. I just hoped I had enough supplies.

The guys loaded up in the van and I turned around and headed back to the lake. I was a ”cool” Mom and the guys made small talk and kidded each other on the way, listening to their favorite station on the radio. I decided on the way I had better set some ground rules for the weekend.

“Okay, guys. Here’s the deal. Once we get to the lake, you’re on your own. The only thing I ask is if you leave the area or anything, you let me know. And if you’ve been drinking, you stay at the cabin.”

“What?” Mark asked, more than confused.

“I just don’t want you wandering off drunk or anything. And if you make a mess, clean it up. I’m not the maid. I’m the chauffeur,” I laughed.

“How would we get drunk?” Mark asked. It was so quite in the van now.

“From the beer,” I replied nonchalantly.

“What beer?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? It’s a present from Uncle Stan,” I lied, “There’s a full keg chilling on the back porch as we speak.”

“But Mom…” Mark started. I knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing Stan thought.

“Mark, you and your friends will eventually drink alcohol. In and of itself, that’s not a bad thing. But unlike the man that killed your father, I want you to learn to drink responsibly. That means you drink at home, and don’t do anything, and I mean anything, that will put you or someone else at risk. Clear?” I asked.

“Yeah, I understand,” Mark replied.

“And that means if you get drunk and throw up on the floor this weekend or do something crazy, you clean it up and you live with the hangover. But the key is live with it, okay?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Mark had never been to the cabin, and he along with his friends were fairly impressed with the place. I had already staked out the large bedroom as mine and told the boys they would have to figure out their own arrangements.

After settling in, I found the boys all wandering around to the back of the cabin. Yes, Stan was right. Nevertheless, I needed to show them that responsibility thing.

“In a bit. First we eat. Trust me, you don’t want to get drunk on an empty stomach,” I advised. “Okay, you can have beer with your meal I guess.” A round of ‘cool” was all I heard. I suddenly liked my newfound popularity with my son and his friends.

I had a couple of the boys start a fire on the built in brick grill and brought out some steaks. I fixed a simple steak and potato meal that I hoped would buy some time before they all got drunk.

It actually was fun being there. For a moment, I felt like one of the ‘guys’ instead of one of the Moms. They were having fun and when one of the boys spilled something on his shirt and let out a quick and authoritative “fuck”, the pin-drop silence from the van came back as almost every eye shot to me and then all looked down.

I couldn’t help it and started laughing. This only brought the eyes back up as they looked at me. Maybe it was my own serving of alcohol (yes, I drink…responsibly) or just the general mood of the late afternoon.

“Okay boys…” I started and then stopped, looking at the combined group of fearful faces. “Anyone here under 18?” I asked. Of course not and I knew that, but I had a point to make.

“Regardless of the laws in this state on the drinking age, every one of you is now old enough, by law, to join the military and fight for our countries freedom. In my book, if you can die for your country, you should be able to drink, okay? In my book you are all adults now and with it comes certain privileges.” There was a mumbled understanding of what I was saying, but they still didn’t get it. I obviously had to be a bit more blunt.

“Any of you ever heard of George Carlin? Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker and tits,” I said from memory. All seven faces went pale before I explained. “It’s from a comedy thing George Carlin did about words you can’t say on TV. You boys, no you men, sorry, have all heard these words and said these words, and you know what, so have I. So for the rest of this weekend, or for that matter whenever I’m around, please don’t make me feel like the outsider because you are afraid of offending me or something. If it weren’t for fucking, none of you would be here anyway.”

I thought it was all over then. I blew my coolness on them, trying to fit in and treat these boys as men. Maybe they weren’t ready for it. I looked down at my plate and was on the verge of some sort of nervous, mental, emotional, traumatic episode when a voice from the group saved me.

“Fucking A!”

The instant burst of laughter from the others and me instantly broke the tension, and as quickly as I thought all was lost, all was once again well. I did make a mental note at the smile on Mark’s face and gave him a wink.

After dinner, and being a woman and a mom, I forced the guys to help me clean up. As I said, I was trying to fit in and while sitting on the back porch I reached into my purse and pulled out my smokes. All these boys knew me, and knew, or thought I didn’t smoke. They watched as I took a drag and smoothly blew the smoke back out.

Without thinking I commented, “A cigarette is best after a meal or sex.” I took another gulp of my beer and another drag. “And beer always tastes better with a smoke,” I added.

“Uh, Mrs. J?” Mark’s friend Tony asked. I looked up at him in response.

“What you said about cussing and stuff and us dying for our country and all?” he stumbled.

I smiled at Tony. “Honey, if you want a smoke, help yourself. I got no problems with that either. And from now on I’m not Mrs. J, I’m Mary.”

This time the tension was broke with “Shit, I wish my mom was half that cool.” It was a high that no drug could ever induce. I looked at Mark as about three of the boys lit up. He was looking at me too, in that sort of unsure way boys do around their moms. When the pack was passed to him, he looked up at me again. I simply winked to give him the okay. Truth is I knew Mark had smoked before.

I don’t know how many cups of beer I had, or them for that matter, but I was feeling less pain than I had in a long time. I mostly listened as the boys talked about school, their plans, and girls. The talk wasn’t graphic, but the underlying tones were still enough to make me wish I was an 18 year old cheerleader again.

I decided a walk might be nice and moved down towards the dock and the water. The sun was just starting to set, the orange glow still reflecting off the water. The sudden influence of youth took hold of me as I decided what I wanted to do next. I walked back to the porch and noticed the guys watching my approach.

“Remember how I was telling you to drink responsibly?” I asked. Nods and mumbles were exchanged. “I want to go swimming but I can’t go alone since I’ve been drinking. Anyone want to come with?”

Looks were exchanged at my question and then Sam gave the expected response. “Mrs. J, Mary, I don’t think anyone brought a swimsuit.”

“Neither did I,” I said walking away. And in turning, I began to unbutton my blouse. By the time I got to the dock, my bra was off too and I quickly slid my pants and panties down before jumping in the cool water.

I floated myself on the water at the point where my nipples (oh they were so hard) were just poking up. I looked at the boys all standing on the dock staring at me. “Well?” I asked.

Six boys quickly stripped down and jumped in, probably relieved that their lower body parts were now under water. One was still a bit shy about being naked in front of me and didn’t pull his pants down and jump in until my back was turned.

We cavorted about, me acting like an 18 year old teenager, splashing water and showing off. When the sun finally set, darkness quickly overtook the water. I suggested that it might be time to get out, and of course, they all waited until I took the lead, but who could blame them.

I climbed out of the water and got the naughtiest of thoughts. I quickly picked up all the clothes, all the guys’ stuff and mine, and ran towards the cabin amidst much commotion in the water. I dropped everything on the porch and went to search for some towels. Drying off I returned to the porch, expecting to find the boys. I didn’t. I put on a halter and shorts from my room and with towels in hand went back to the dock.

“Okay, what’s it going to be. Boys or men. All the men climb on out. All the boys will have to wait and I’ll leave a towel for you,” I taunted.

A couple of the boys climbed out, but the others stayed in. “Well?” I asked, and two more boys popped out, and when I mean popped, their masts were at full staff, evident even in the darkened conditions. A bit shocked, surprised and embarrassed, I quickly dropped the towels and went back to the porch where I immediately grabbed another cup of beer and lit another smoke.

The boys finally returned and wandered into the cabin to put dry clothes on. I stayed on the porch, enjoying the ‘unnatural’ quietness. An added reward was being able to hear clearly inside the cabin as well.

“Sorry dude, I know she’s your Mom and all, but shit, I’d love to bang her,” one said, apparently to Mark.

“Yeah, you bang her and I’ll let her suck my cock. Man I’d love to have those lips around my pole,” another one said.

My shock, surprise and embarrassment quickly turned to raging lust. It had been too long since I had heard a man, albeit it young ones, speak about me that way. Suddenly feeling more than naughty, I reached down, tied the knot in my halter tight, and unbuttoned another button to show some more cleavage in the yellow light shining above the porch. I was more than aroused, and the last thing I thought about as the boys started filing out was the fact I hadn’t bothered to put any panties on under my shorts.

Beer was poured, cigarettes were lit, and a general awkward silence fell as I saw six and a half pair of eyes still glued to me. One only had one eye on me.

“So did everyone enjoy their swim?” I asked.

“Yeah it was great” and “sure” were the semi-combined response.

“I was thinking of watching a movie, anyone want to do it too?” I asked in a voice that was closer to slutty than sultry. A general groan and a few “oh yeahs” were the response I was hoping for.

I refilled my cup and picked up my smokes, and was becoming custom, led the way to the main room of the cabin. I picked a spot and picked up the remote, right where I had dropped it when the delivery guy had shown up earlier. I played a bit stupid with the remote, turning the large screen TV on but not the dish or DVD player.