Mom's Secret Past Life

Jake finds some VERY strange items during a cellar cleanup.

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Jake is angry because he has to clean out the cellar all Saturday long. He had wanted to meet up with his friends. No chance -- his mother shows no mercy. But when he finds some remnants from her past, it sets off a cataclysmic chain reaction.

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Have fun with this one -- and maybe check your basement for any incriminating items no one should find!

Dingo

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"What's THAT!!!"

Jake Czerna winced so hard that the spoonful of cereal he was about to bring to his mouth splattered across the kitchen table. There was so much aggression in his mother's exclamation that it got him nervous in an eyeblink. Irina Czerna was usually of a reserved nature, but Jake had also seen her furious. Then she didn't come across as a middle-aged woman, but as a snarling leopardess, ready to bite a neck. Not someone to be messed with if you didn´t have to.

The scream had come from the side door. He jumped up and hurried in that direction. The door was open, and his mother was eyeing her car, hands clasped in front of her face. The VW Beetle convertible that she guarded like the apple of her eye had a significant scratch on the right front fender.

Irina wheeled around, her blond curls dancing. "That was YOU!" she screamed, eyes narrowed. "I give you my car so you can hang out with your friends, and you scratch it!"

"Uh, no..." stuttered Jake, taking a step back. To his knowledge, he hadn't hit anything last night. However, he did have a beer and had been pretty tired on the way back.

"Who then, huh?" Irina put her hands on her hips and made a hissing sound that would have repelled an attacking alligator. "Do you know how much that costs? At least a grand. Guess what? I don´t have that kind of money just lying around."

"I...I didn't do that." Jake hated how defensive he sounded. But before his mother's concentrated rage, he felt small and puny. "I'm sure I didn't hit anything with the..."

"Stop it!" His mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly. "I have to go. But this, this has consequences. You're broke, as usual, and you can't take this on. So you're going to work off the damages."

"Work it off?" That didn't sound good at all.

"Exactly." Irina grinned wickedly at him. "I'll be generous and pay twenty bucks an hour. That will make fifty hours of work."

"Fifty?" He blinked in disbelief.

"What's the problem? You're just sitting around at home playing computer games anyway, because you don't know what you're going to do now that High School is over."

"But..."

"No buts! You're starting today. On Wednesday, Harry can lend us his van for the bulk waste. When I come back around six o´clock, you'll have the basement cleaned out. And tip-top, if you please. You can store anything that needs to go here in the carport."

"The basement?" Jake gulped. The cellar of the small end-of-row house was a nightmare everyone avoids to go into unless it was absolutely neccessary. For many years, the basement had been used as a quick storage place for everything that was no longer wanted upstairs. It was totally cluttered by now.

"You have nine hours." Irina looked at her watch.

"But I have a date with Jason and Tick today --"

He broke off. His mother's face was suddenly right in front of his nose, her eyes formed into slits. She was breathing with labored control, he registered. Her teeth were grinding. She was half a head shorter than him, but it felt like she was staring down at him.

"Uh - it's okay. I'll do it. I'm...I'm sorry." His voice was down to a whisper. He took a step back, hating himself for it.

"Nine hours!"

His mother straightened up and got into her precious car. With one last, menacing look through the windshield, she started the car and rolled backward out of the carport and through the driveway gate, which opened automatically. A roar of the engine, and she was gone.

"What a fucking mess," Jake groaned, rubbing his face. His beautiful Saturday, for crying out loud. And that was only nine hours today. Forty-one hours of slave work remained. The hitherto wonderfully relaxed time between High School and whatever was going to come afterwards had taken a serious knock.

First, he munched on his cereal and wrote a message to his friends via Whatsapp. Immediately came condolences, mixed with sneering remarks. Offers of help, on the other hand: None whatsoever. He threw the smartphone on the table and snorted.

"All right. The basement," he muttered and headed for the stairwell. "No problem. I can handle this."

For half a minute he thought about quickly satisfying himself with the help of an online clip, just to blow off a little steam. When you're 18 years old and you never had a girlfriend, when it's been more than ten hours since your last wank, and when you are alone the whole day, this is a logical idea. Almost compelling! He had seen so many jerk-off videos lately, he considered himself a kind of porn expert by now. Wasn´t there any bachelor´s degree out there based on kinky knowledge?

No! Face it like a man!, he told himself. If you lay one finger on your cock, it will cost you two or three hours in the end. She will explode like a nuke if the basement is in a mess the time she comes back.

With a deep sigh he went downstairs. He flicked on the light and looked around. His courage sank. Next to the stairs was a small boiler room, kept reasonably clear. But the rest, an L-shaped room of at least five hundred square feet, looked like a chaotic maze. Shelves ran along the walls, crammed with boxes, crates, sacks and other things. But you couldn't reach them at all, because the entire space in the middle was also taken up by stacks, piles and boxes, adventurously layered to room-high works of abstract art. It smelled musty and of dust. Two bare light bulbs provided just enough light to properly set off the chaos.

"First of all, out. Everything has to go out of here," he spoke to himself, rolling up his sleeves. In situations like this, it was better to just throw himself into the work and not think too much. He grabbed the first box, which creaked and squeaked as he lifted it, and heaved it up the stairs.

Saturday stretched into a nightmare. For hours he lugged ancient stuff upstairs, briefly sifted through the contents of the containers, and sorted them into different piles in the carport. "Keep" was on the far right, then came "Ask Mother" next to that, "Donate," and to the left, "Trash."

By lunchtime, he had the central chaos somewhat under control and continued with the shelves. On one wall he found old building material, tiles and ancient board games. He moved that, too, into the carport, as well as the dried-up paint buckets, a box of wires and cables, and lamps that looked suspiciously ´80s. His back ached and he felt all the muscles in his body. If he hadn't been going to the gym regularly for years, he probably wouldn't have been able to do this.

He made himself a sandwich and went right back to work. Time stretched into a tunnel of carrying, sifting, sorting and coughing, with all the dust kicked up. This is how old Sisyphus must have felt, he thought.

In the afternoon, he worked his way through the shelves. It was unbelievable what was stored there. Moving boxes with children's clothes of his. A box of his Legos that he didn't want anymore when he turned fourteen. Old dishes, more clothes. A whole plastic box of old, half-burned candles, probably the legacy of several Christmas decorations. His mother attached great importance to real candles, she hated electric lights on the Christmas tree like the plague. Must be some kind of childhood sentimentality, he guessed, remaining from her first years in the old Czech Republic.

Around three o'clock, he had to realize that he would by no means get everything done that day. So Sunday would have to go, too. Fuck! Sighing, he scratched his dusty hair and limited himself to just briefly sifting through the last shelves, mentally sorting their content. Old canning jars. Fashion magazines from the ´90s. A kitchen lamp with outdated light bulbs. A half-full bag of potting soil. Soon he would come across the Nazi gold, the Ark of the Covenant, and Atlantis, for sure.

Finally he was completely through and pulled the last box from the lowest shelf at the very back. Groaning, he straightened up, grateful it didn´t weigh much. His back felt like it was about to snap. He held the find under the light bulb and turned it back and forth.

A wooden casket of some sort with a domed lid. A large combination lock held the thing closed. But when he tentatively pulled, the metal hooks where the lock was attached came loose and broke from the dried wood with almost no resistance. Carefully, he removed the debris and flipped open the lid.

On top lay a black dildo.

Jake stared wide-eyed. What in the world was that? With bated breath, he rummaged through the box. Old documents, a contract. A picture of his mother at a young age. She was laughing brightly into the camera. A smile came to his lips of its own accord. He had hardly ever seen her as carefree and livid as she seemed here.

There was also a blindfold in the box, and a DVD with the word "Claudio" and a little heart written on it with a felt-tip pen.

Jake's heart suddenly beat faster. Claudio -- could it be that...?

His mother was sixteen years old when she became pregnant with him, he knew. She had never revealed his father's name, neither to her horrified parents, nor to him. He only overheard once that she had been madly in love with him and had seduced him.

Claudio?

Stunned, he took the find and brought it upstairs. He washed his dirty hands and put the box on the low table in the living room. Then he took out the dildo and looked at it with fascination. The thing was made of a hard rubber compound. It bent a little and offered a pleasantly yielding surface. But when you pressed deeper into it, you felt hardness. Not so far off the real thing, he thought with a grin.

He chuckled sheepishly as he put it aside. As far back as he could remember, his mother hadn't been into sex. Yeah, she seemed really uptight to him. Even though she was only thirty-five, she wanted nothing to do with men or relationships. Maybe because of her experience getting pregnant so early? She lived for him, for her little house, and for work. Rarely did she go out, and then with a girlfriend or colleagues.

Jake shook his head. Imagining his mother with a dildo was like envisioning the Pope with a machine gun. She worked in the back office of a small insurance company and dressed demurely, to put it mildly. Her standard outfit included bagged pants, a loose blouse, and a cardigan over it.

Claudio.

With a breath, he took the DVD and slid it into the slot of the player. It rattled automatically and the screen lit up. Jake sat down on the edge of the sofa so as not to soil the upholstery too much with the dust from his clothes. He just wanted to take a quick look. One minute!

A flicker, then came the picture. Streaky and flickering. It looked as if it was originally recorded on a video cassette and had then been copied onto the DVD. Music began, light piano tunes. The view of a villa appeared. Old walls, thickly overgrown with ivy and other plants, but recognizably well maintained. Jake frowned. A feature film?

"Silver Monkey Film Presents:" appeared as pink lettering across the image. "Alexa Hottie and Claudio di Spinola in: SEDUCTIVE SALES PITCHES."

Jake felt his eyes widen. That almost sounded like a....

A new scene. A dark sedan rolled up and stopped. A man in his thirties got out and looked around. He wore a tightly tailored suit with a tie and sunglasses. An Italian, by complexion, hair color and face. He took off his glasses and pressed the bell button next to the wrought-iron double gate.

A young woman in business attire stepped out and approached the gat, hips swinging. A wild, red curly mane danced down to her hips. She smiled at the visitor and opened the gate with a welcoming gesture. The camera zoomed in close, showing her face and full bosom, the latter tightly packed under a top and her jacket.

A groan escaped Jake's throat. That was Irina, his mother! True, she was made up to beyond, with crazy-long eyelashes and garish lipstick, and she looked far younger than she did today. Perhaps he would not have made the connection if he had happened to see the film by chance somewhere else. But on a DVD with his mother's handwriting on it, there was no mistaking her identity.

"Hi. You're my three o'clock appointment?" he heard the young woman say on the screen. Or rather girl: she couldn't have been much older than he himself was today, at eighteen. That was clearly his mother's voice, even if it carried a smoky undertone he didn't recognize from her.

"That's me." The Italian smiled winningly and gave a small bow. "Claudio di Spinola. My family is interested in the estate." He took Irina's hand and with an elegant gesture he pressed a kiss on it.

"I am Alexa, from Elysium Estate Limited. Come in." Irina gave him a radiant smile. "I'll show you everything."

"Everything?" The man raised an eyebrow ironically. Irina laughed and pulled him in with a lascivious look in her eyes. The gate closed behind the two of them.

"I can´t believe it!" breathed Jake. "She was in a porno? My mother?"

He followed the film absorbed. At least at the beginning, it tried to look like a real feature film. Sultry music, and it was shown how the woman led her visitor across the path and around the house. She pointed to various things and explained something, but the man clearly showed more interest in her than in the property. Again and again his gaze slid over the exciting forms of the girl.

Irina looked truly ravishing. The skimpy dress in a royal blue contrasted sharply with the bright red curls, and between them shone the white of her top, stretching tightly around her bosom: full, high-set breasts with nipples visible beneath the fabric. The elastic skirt clung tightly to her thighs and indecently mapped the contours of her body. Even the hint of the Venus mound was identifiable.

But what fascinated Jake most was her facial expression. So young, so detached, so serene! She liked being filmed, and she also liked her co-actor. Her eyes shone warmly when she looked up at him. Where had this Irina gone? When had she turned into the buttoned-down woman he knew as his mother?

"Beautiful, all of it," Claudio finally nodded, his eyes on his partner. "I'm very interested."

"I'm glad to hear." She smiled up at him and took a breath so deep that her chest threatened to burst the clothing. "Is there anything else you'd like to see?"

"Yes. This."

With that, the man slipped the jacket off her shoulder and tossed it onto a nearby bench. Irina brushed her hair back and moved lasciviously. In the sleeveless top and skimpy skirt, she displayed the figure of a Barbie doll, with a swooping, feminine shape and an improbably thin waist.

Jake felt his mouth go dry. Everything urged him to jump up and pull the DVD out of the player before anything more happened. But at the same time, he knew that no power in the world would stop him from watching this movie to the end.

His mother! So young and radiantly beautiful. Unbelievable!

With effort he gathered his thoughts. Claudio could not be his father. The movie-Irina was young, but recognizably older than sixteen. Nineteen or twenty, he guessed. The video had to have been made three or four years after his birth. But he was far less interested in his possible father than in his mother right now.

The music swelled, and the couple kissed. Once again, Jake had the impression that there was more between the two than just a professional relationship among colleagues. They were making out so persistently and tenderly that they might as well have been real lovers. Or maybe they actually were, back then. Claudio with a heart!

There were taut muscles under the Italian's jacket. He clasped Irina around the middle and lifted her freely until she was standing on the little bench. A close-up as he kissed the buxom top and pressed his lips into the tender flesh. The woman turned slightly and pushed a breast tip into his mouth. Immediately after, she moaned so devotedly that the gentle throbbing in Jake's pants swelled to pulsating tightness. The erotic tension of the footage swept him along like a steam locomotive gradually gathering speed.

With an impatient sound, Irina pulled her top over her head. Very carefully, Jake noticed. No wonder, the fiery red curls had to be a wig. He didn't remember his mother ever having grown her hair that long or dyed it that colour.

Now she pranced around on the little bench in a white lace bra. The man kissed her and turned his attention back to her breasts. He nibbled at the curve and squeezed one side demandingly so that the fullness bulged teasingly up her cleavage. Then he pulled the hem of the left cup down with his index finger. The camera zoomed in, showing a nipple, swollen hard and red.

Jake gasped and involuntarily put his hand on his erection as he looked at his young mother's bud erect with arousal. The aureoles also looked hard and stimulated, with small bumps all around. Overall, the nipple formed a large cone, looking all too tempting.

"Beautiful!" the man murmured, freeing her completely from the bra. Irina stretched her arms above her head and turned in front of him with a winning smile. Her brimming breasts jutted out like assault weapons, so young and full and round. Greedily Claudio grasped them and rolled the buxom flesh to his heart's content.

Jake´s hand itched, he almost felt his mother's tit under his fingers. He gulped and pushed this impression aside, as the thought made him wince with discomfort. Did his mother really look that great? When had he actually seen her naked for the last time? He couldn't remember, it must have been many years ago.

Irina always made a point of coming out of the bathroom in the morning already dressed and styled. She slept upstairs, while he had the small room downstairs to the back, and with its own shower. Even on weekends, his mother always wore at least a robe or jogging clothes. And since she tolerated sun very badly, she never went with him to the swimming pool or the beach.

He pushed these considerations to the background. The man now zipped off her skirt and turned her around. Irina braced herself with her hands against the outer wall of the villa and pushed her bare bottom out. He eagerly grabbed it and petted the fleshy globes, with a blue thong stretching along between them. As he did so, he kissed down her spine, deeper and deeper, until he reached her bottom and licked broadly over both buttocks.

Irina sighed contentedly and lifted first one, then the other foot as he slipped off her thong and stepped out. Again the camera zoomed in as he pulled her bottom apart and stared between them with a look of lustful hunger. Jake groaned involuntarily. He looked from behind at his mother's bulging pussy. At red curved labia, which had already opened a little. Between them it shimmered moistly. And just above there was the bashful funnel of her anus, a little darker than the surrounding skin.

There was no other way. Jake simply had to open his pants and free his aching cock. He refrained from surrounding it, but just patted his hard-on a little. The running time of the movie was about fourty-five minutes, and he didn't want to explode too soon. The question of what else he was about to see from his mother made him shift restlessly back and forth on the sofa. A wild mix of curiosity, lust, and pangs of guilt swirled in his chest. After all, this was not some random porn model. This was his mother!