On a quiet night, Finn sat alone in the dim glow of the living room TV, engrossed in a video game. The rhythmic clashing of swords and clattering of armor as he explored ancient gothic structure infested with the undead filled the empty house. Mia and Kayla, Finn's older and younger sister, had already retired to their rooms, their parents, David and Miranda, were at a work party and not coming home till tomorrow, and Sarah, Finn's girlfriend, had already texted him goodnight, leaving Finn to his pleasant solitude.
Finn was happy to have this Friday night to himself. He loved his family, but sometimes their constant presence and overbearing affection could be overwhelming. His dad was never home, always traveling for work since works as regional manager of a restaurant chain, and this left his Mom with plenty of alone time. Alone time she spent by injecting herself into every aspect of Finn and his siblings' lives. If he was playing video games, she would plop down next to him and talk his ear of with questions and stories. If it wasn't her bothering him, it was Kayla begging for rides or Mia demanding he share the TV so she can watch more nerd cartoons.
On top of his crowded home life, Finn had a demanding job and a troublesome relationship. His girlfriend, Sarah, was a sweet and caring girl, but lately, he'd been feeling bored in their relationship. There were a lot of reasons, but the last time they'd gone on a date, Sarah sat in silence for most of the night, scrolling her phone idly. Finn tried to spark a conversation, but she was too preoccupied to catch on. He'd found himself feeling frustrated, like he was trying to stay in a relationship she didn't want anymore.
But for one night, Finn could forget all of it. He was alone, just him, his game, and the quiet solitude.
Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Miranda stumbled through the doorway, her face flushed and eyes wild. Finn paused his game, startled by her sudden return. "Mom? Are you okay?" Her dress was small and tight. It rode up on her thighs and pulled down over her breasts, exposing more of his mother's body than Finn can remember ever seeing.
"Of course I'm okay!" she shouted, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. "You're father, though..." she paused, stumbling as she did, "he's better than okay. He gets to party with that coked up teen instead of his middle aged wife!" She rambled through details of an argument between her and Finn's father, though the details were jumbled. As Miranda rocked back and forth in her drunken stupor, she slurred and teetered, he could only grasp fragments of what had happened.
"I left his ass there! He can get her to drive him home!" Miranda stumbled as she went, constantly on the edge of tumbling over. "He should hope that dumb whore even has her driver's license!" Then, with a sudden misstep, Miranda fell across the living room, spilling her purse and losing a heel all before slamming into the ground with a hard thud.
"Whoa, Mom!" Finn said, rushing to her side, "Let me help you." He stood Miranda up and guided her towards the kitchen, "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"
She grumbled, "I'm fine, I just tripped."
Finn sat her down at the kitchen table, "Let's get you some water, okay?" He flicked on the lights, illuminating the quiet house.
While fetching her drink, Finn noticed how beautiful his mother looked--- her hair was tousled, her makeup was smudged, and her dress stuck to her body like a second skin. The signs of aging she spent so much time and energy stressing over were her greatest features. She had wide, motherly hips, plumped by time, large breasts lightly sagging with age, and sun-kissed, freckled skin with light wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that were a testament to her life of laughter. Whether cellulite or wrinkles, it didn't matter, Finn couldn't think of a more beautiful woman. "You look... really good, Mom," he said, perhaps a bit too truthfully, "I mean, for your age. You look good."
Miranda laughed softly, easing the tension from her shoulders. "You think so? A woman my age could still be sexy?"
Finn nervously backtracked, "No no not like that! I mean, you're breath taking!" he said, handing her the glass of water.
Miranda was clearly enjoying his nervous stammering with her devious smile through hooded eyes. Something began to stir in Finn's pants.
She drank several big gulps, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, "Breath taking, how?"
Finn stuttered for a response, unsure of what she meant, but Miranda cut in to specify her question. "Like, what do you like about me? My Hair? My Butt?" she looked at him with tempting eyes and squeezed her breasts, "My boobs?"
Caught off guard, Finn stared at her at a loss for words with a sudden and intense desire to explore the woman before him. He'd never truly seen his mother in this light yet the thought of her as a sexual being with her own desires was shockingly exhilarating. "Everything!" he blurted without caution, "you're the definition of a milf!"
As he stood there, staring at her, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have her, to kiss and touch her most sensitive places. For a moment, Miranda seemed to sense his thoughts and their eyes locked. There was a spark there, an ember of desire, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though she might be considering the same thoughts that swirled within Finn's mind.
Miranda broke eye contact as her eyes trailed away and her finger lightly traced circles on the table, "Remind me, what does milf stand for?"
Finn nervously chuckled, "Well, you know. Its not exactly literal..." he trailed off.
"You know," she began, "when it comes to young women, you don't need to specify wanting to fuck them like you do with women my age. With milfs" Finn could see the sparkle of tears welling in her eyes. "Its just a given that you'd fuck them."
Seeing his mother's sensitive moment, Finn pulled a chair close to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling in close. As he held her, Finn couldn't help but notice the way she smelled like rose perfume, the softness of her skin, and the warmth of her breath against his neck. "What happened at the party? Did dad..." Finn paused before asking, "did he cheat on you?" The thought was troubling but Finn couldn't ignore the signs.
From within his embrace, Miranda groaned, "No, he didn't cheat. Not really."
"Well, what happened? You said he'd being with some coked up teen when you came inside."
Miranda sniffed to clear her nose and pulled away from Finn's chest, wiping her tears away as she did. "You have to keep this a secret, okay?"
"Keep what secret? Your fight?"
"No, listen," she straightened her back, pushing out her breasts where Finn glimpsed her areola peaking from behind her thin dress. "You're father and I have an understanding. He can sleep with other people and so can I, but we always did it together."
Finn listened intently. Finding out his parents were swingers was one big reveal, but the admission only excited him. Visions of his mother's sexual exploits flashed through his mind and all the possibilities opened up before him. "You and Dad are swingers?"
Miranda was still explaining her night, though her speech was slurred and voice low, "Yes, but tonight he wanted to go alone with some nineteen year old he'd met at the party. Probably one of his coworker's daughters for fuck's sake." Miranda threw her head back and took a deep, heavy sigh. "It's not his fault. I'm just feeling old, lately, and the way he asked me for permission was so," she choked, "so horny! I hadn't seen him pumped like that in years!" The tears returned, pouring down her face as she buried her face in Finn's embrace.
Finn held his mother close while she cried, though his rock hard erection made his compassionate gesture more than a little awkward for him. "Its okay," Finn breathed, "Dad is probably just feeling the same things you are and wants a younger woman to feel young again himself." He ran his hands up and down her back, creeping further to her hips and thighs with every stroke, "Maybe you should do the same?"
Miranda looked up at him through wet eyes. There was a sense of comfort and security between their embrace and the desire he'd seen in her eyes had returned in full strength; it was the kind of look you'd give before a first kiss. Finn, too, felt that surge of passion as he looked in his mother's eyes.
Miranda reached out and ran her hand through Finn's hair, eyes flittering between his gaze and his lips. He could feel his mother's desire and unable, nor willing, to resist this urge, Finn pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her in a fleeting kiss. It was unexpected, electric, and left Finn feeling light headed.
"Finn," Miranda meekly protested.
He would have pulled away, brought her to bed, and forgotten the night had ever happened if she wanted him to stop, but Miranda had already given in to her own desire. She gripped the back of his head and pulled him in where their lips crashed together in a second, more passionate kiss. Finn's tongue slid against Miranda's, tasting the alcohol on her breath and she moaned in response. Their breath mingled as his tongue met hers in a frenzy of lust. Their lips pulled back for short, desperate gasps of air only to collide again.
