Birds chirped happy, little songs on the branch outside Trish's bedroom window. It was just after sunrise when Trish rolled out of bed half-hungover and half-panicked. Her first thought was that the previous night had been a dream. A bad steak or sour wine had warped the evening's events in her mind and caused her to misremember what had transpired. The gentle snores from the bed told her last night was real.
There, sprawled out with the sheets barely covering his groin, was Ryan, Trish's son. He was sprawled out on his back in the very spot where his father used to sleep. Gentle beams of morning light spilled over his torso and hips, highlighting all his best features. Trish admired him for a second longer before slipping out of the room and heading downstairs to make a cup of coffee.
Images of last night danced in Trish's head as she took the small, white coffee pod and popped it in the machine. It was the happiest she had been in a long, long time, but now she felt melancholy. She felt like she was at the doctor's office waiting for bad news. A feeling that persisted throughout the morning, long after the last sip of coffee was drained from her mug.
"What is wrong with me?" Trish muttered while she stared out the kitchen window at the yard where her son used to play as a child. Even as she tried to reignite her motherly instincts she felt an unmistakable ache in her pussy. A longing that made her want to flee.
By ten that morning, Trish was is in her car and driving to a nearby park that she used to frequent whenever she and her ex had a fight. She had a routine and she followed it that morning, despite the difference in circumstance that brought her there. She parked, grabbed a muffin from the little coffee kiosk near the park's entrance, and strolled to a bench overlooking a quaint walking path.
It was too early to drink, and to Trish's relief, she preferred being sober right this instance. She watched over the walking path from her spot on the park bench. The only pedestrians were a couple in their thirties going for a morning jog. They looked happy with their lives, laughing as they sped along the path. Part of Trish felt that happiness, too, but it wouldn't be worth it if the cost meant stealing her son away from a potentially happy marriage to a woman his own age.
She sat at the park for a little over two hours before heading back home. When she did return, she was ready to face the music. Trish was positive a sober Ryan would be waiting to right the ship and put this incident behind them. She wouldn't blame him, even if part of her wanted to keep her son as a lover. After all, being a mom meant letting your child go off on their own, when the time came. But as Trish wandered through the house, she realized it was empty. Ryan was gone.
***
Ryan awoke that morning, groggy and a little confused. He was in his mom's room, which made little sense to him until the events of the previous night bubbled back to the surface. He reached for his phone to check the time, but quickly realized his phone was on the couch. Some things were just easy to forget when a gorgeous was involved.
After sitting up and shaking off the trace of a headache that had formed overnight, Ryan shuffled over to the bathroom to shower. He soaped himself up and rinsed away all the lingering traces of his mom from his body. He was able to see each and every place where Trish had kissed him last night from her lipstick. He also had a clear indication of how wet she had been. His cock twitched as his thoughts lingered to the way her pussy squeezed him from the hilt to the head.
Showered, shaved, and ready to start the day, Ryan jogged downstairs to talk to his mom. The house was empty, though. He grabbed his phone from the couch, thinking she may have text him, but he had no messages from his mom. It was also a lot later than he had originally thought.
"Shit, I forgot." Ryan mumbled as he read a text from his friend, Cameron.
A group of Ryan's friends were all hanging out that afternoon. Ryan planned to meet them for lunch and then spend some time with them all afterward. The group had been texting for most of the evening and now, as morning burned quickly toward mid-day, there was a string of messages asking where he was and why he wasn't answering their texts.
He fired off a hasty reply, then headed out to meet them. As he drove toward town he passed his mother's car at the park. It was his first indication that something was wrong. He knew his mother. She went to the park to think, and last night was a hard pill to swallow. Ryan's plan was to treat it like any tinder hook up. A one-time thing.
Unless his mother wanted to discuss their relationship and find a middle ground that included more nights like last night, Ryan was going to assume it was over between them. She was probably going to be drunk when he got home, and he would probably pay for last night by having to drag her back from the brink of oblivion...again.
The restaurant came into view and Ryan pushed his worries out of his mind. He met his friends, who had already ordered, at a large, corner booth. Most of the group waved as he entered, but then there was Cameron, ever the best friend.
"What the fuck, bitch?" Cameron called out, throwing up his hands. "Were you dead for twelve hours or some shit?"
"Sorry, I had..." Ryan began, but as he noticed Amanda among the group, he trailed off and quietly took a seat.
"Had what? An appendectomy? I already ordered for you, by the way." Cameron teased.
Ryan saw the unclaimed soda in front of him and took a sip, "Thanks, bud."
Everyone chatted and caught up as they waited for the server to bring out lunch. As much as Ryan wanted to tell Cameron the altered version of last night's events, he avoided the topic. Although, with Amanda right beside him, Ryan had trouble saying anything to anyone about anything. She was all-consuming.
She had been part of the group since middle school. A bubbly, extroverted girl, whose traits had only developed as she grew older, until it manifested in the form of a theater major. College had molded her into a concentrated version of the girl she once was. Now, she exuded charisma and carried herself with a confidence she never used to possess. It also meant that every story at the table started or ended with her.
"What are you going to school for again, Ry?" Amanda asked, placing a hand on his knee in secret under the table.
Ryan's eyes went wide for a moment. His expression returned quickly, but he was positive Cameron had clocked it. Ryan chewed the bite of food in his mouth, then said, "History."
"That's fascinating. I looove history," Amanda said, oozing with interest while her hand snaked up his thigh. "I just finished studying a historical play a few weeks ago. Shakespeare, even. It was a Greek tragedy about a king and a prophesy."
Ryan stole a look at Cameron who, after giving Ryan an evil smirk, casually dropped his fork on the floor. He popped his head under the table before Amanda had a chance to process what was going on, if she even cared at all. Cameron retrieved the fork and gave Ryan a wag of his eyebrows.
Her hand remained on his thigh for the rest of lunch. She used her fingers to tease him, kneading his muscles but never giving more than a grazing touch to his swelling cock. He was glad to have been so thoroughly drained the night before, otherwise Amanda's torture might drive him close to the edge.
After lunch, the group went to a mini-golf course not too far out of town. Everyone paired up in teams, leaving Ryan with Amanda. The more the afternoon progressed, the more he felt like he was being set up on a surprise date. The ambush was complete with half-baked jokes from Cameron.
"Remember, each partner takes a turn with the ball," Cameron said, turning to Ryan and grinning, "so if you get it in the hole on the first try, you'll make Amanda very happy."
