I stood in my mother's bedroom. It was dark outside and the blinds were drawn. The room's décor was completely different from the last time I had been there. My mom had said that she thought it would be a good idea for us to make it look like we went to different locales. I thought that it really didn't matter, people didn't watch this stuff for the upholstery, but I didn't say anything about it to her. I turned from the window and looked at the bed. She lay on it, spread out luxuriously with her hair down on her shoulders. She wore a little white bath robe, like they give you at a nice hotel. I knew that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her large breasts pushed up against the white fabric, aching to get out. I felt my heart beating faster. This was going to happen again.
She fussed with her hair in the mirror, trying to get it right. She looked at the TV screen to make sure that she looked good. I was wearing a bathing suit and my hair was wet. It was a cute little pink bikini. This was so much different than the first time. We had been so scared. Now, we worried about looking good and making a video that people wanted to see so that we could get another contract. I think that it is so strange how the bizarre can become commonplace, especially when there is money involved.
When the video company sent us the offer for a second video we had put it in a drawer in my mother's kitchen and not talked about it. I had paid our bills with the money and both my mother and I went back to looking for jobs. It was like nothing had happened. I took Toddy to preschool, visited my mom and Greg, and took care of my apartment. I surprised myself by going days at a time without thinking about what I had done to put food on the table and money in the bank. But sometimes, in my private moments in my bed, a sudden flash of memory would rock me. My mother's lips, her breasts, her body against mine.
I would get the most conflicted feelings when this happened. First, shame would suffocate me. I didn't even know what I was ashamed of. Was it because I had had sex with my mother? Because I had sex for money? Because I had had sex with my mother for money? Because I was a pornographer? But the shame wasn't the only feeling. I also felt hot. The blood would rise in my cheeks and flow into my sex. I wanted so badly to touch myself when I thought of that day, but something held me back. Something told me it was wrong. So instead of giving myself a release, I'd roll over, convince myself I was thinking of something else and fall asleep.
One thing I used to keep my mind off of my sexual problems was my financial situation. $10,000 had seemed like so much money when it was all put into a bank account at once. But running two households on that money drained it quickly. Before I knew it, it really was like nothing had ever happened. In a few weeks, the same money troubles would be at us again.
When I was in my mother's house, I thought about that offer in the drawer. Part of me wanted to run to it, to pull it out and call the company immediately. Another part of me wanted to reach in and tear it up. Like if I got rid of the temptation to make money the shame and sexual temptation would be torn up with it. But I ignored it. Eventually, my mother brought it up.
Our boys were both at school and I didn't have a job interview that day. I was sitting in my mother's kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and looking out the window. That nagging financial worry was on me again. I thought about my son at school and what it would be like to raise him like this forever, always worrying about money. As I was thinking about it, I turned and saw my mother bending over to put the coffee maker away. Her heart shaped ass was just a few feet from me, straining in her tight jeans. I flashed back to my tongue running over her ass, and my face got very red. This was my mother, nothing had changed that. We had done something shameful, but that didn't mean that I was completely depraved. We had acted because we needed money. Right? She was still just my mom.
"How much is left," she said in a very serious voice, sitting down in the chair across from me. Her beautiful face looked drawn and worried.
"It is almost gone," I told her honestly. I ran my hand through my hair and looked down in my coffee. When I looked back up, I could have sworn that she was staring at my chest.
"Any luck on the job front?" she asked, knowing the answer. I shook my head, "me neither."
"I hate this," I said and I let out a long sigh. I was surprised to find my breath came out in a little hitching noise, like I was about to cry! I didn't hear her move, but I felt her arms around me.
"Honey, you always knew what would happen if we couldn't get jobs this month, didn't you?" she asked.
"What?" I asked, and the question was a lie. There were no mysteries left.
"Come on," she said annoyed, "This is money. And what is better, it is money we know we can get. The people you found were honest the first time. We call them up and do another video."
"I know," I said. I got up and walked over to the drawer. I opened it up. I didn't see the letter. Then I realized that my brother lived in this house. She wouldn't have left it in plain sight. I dug deep into drawer, pulling things out and dropping them on the floor.
"Ahem," I heard my mother say, I turned and looked. She was holding the letter in her hand and giving me a wry smile, "Please clean up my kitchen!' she said and we laughed. Some of the tension went out of the room. I got down on my knees and picked up all of the items I had dropped. I could feel her eyes on me while I did it.
"Let's call them," I said. So we made the phone call and they answered. They told us they had almost given up on us, but that the offer was still on the table. They gave us some direction about what they wanted and we agreed to whatever they said. They told us that $7,500 was already on the way and another check of the same amount was contingent on the video. We hung up and again, we had a contract.
"Can we talk a second before we do this?" she asked. "What do you want to talk about," I asked, feeling my skin crawl. I just wanted to do this, I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to do it badly, I just didn't want to think about it.
"Listen," she said, I had never seen my mother seem so nervous, "the first time we...produced a movie, we didn't talk about it much beforehand or afterward. I just think that there is a chance we might be doing a few of these movies. I think we should try to do a few of them." She was so clinical, like she wasn't talking about having sex with me. It was sort of reassuring.
"Right," I said.
"We can't be awkward about this if it is going to be our job," she said, "I just want to say, let's be professional when we make the movie. We will talk about this stuff like we are business partners. Then, when we are done, we are mother and daughter again like nothing happened." I felt strange about this idea. Of course, it was the best solution. But it was disappointing too. I really was a pervert. My mother was just trying to get through this and I was having late night fantasies about it. I felt that shame again.
"I think that is for the best," I said.
So that was how we ended up here. My mom was on the bed, looking beautiful. I was dolled up, looking sexy, and we were about to earn another $15,000 for fucking. I checked myself in the mirror and then walked over to the camera and clicked it on. The video company had given us some guidelines on what to do. Not a story, but enough for us to make a story of our own. It made it easier. Made it more professional.
"Jayne," Mom said, "Is it on?"
"Yeah," I said and I saw her breasts heave as she took a deep breath. I giggled a little, maybe it was wrong, but there is no reason not to enjoy your job, especially if everything would just go back to normal when it was over.
"Action," I said. Then I moved away from the window and into frame. From that point on, we were doing the little story we had worked out together.
"Jayne," My mom said in an angry voice. I stopped walking, like I was stunned. She leaned forward on the bed, and I couldn't help but look down her robe, enjoying the view.
"Uhhh, yeah? What's the problem?" I asked, putting my hands over my head and twirling my wet hair around and putting it in a ponytail. The water swirled off of it, some of it landing on my mother's face. She recoiled like she had been hit.
"Did you even dry yourself off when you came into the house?" she asked, jumping up off of the bed. I could smell her perfume now. I was thinking about crushing her skin with my palms. I needed this so bad, I had needed it ever since we had finished the first movie. But I had to be professional.
"I am just coming in to grab something to eat and then I am going back out to the hot tub," I said like I was a bratty teenager. I even rolled my eyes and tried to walk past my mother.
"Listen, I know when you are at your father's house you do whatever you want, but you aren't at your father's house," My mother said, crossing her perfect arms across her breasts. Doing this made the little robe ride up even farther and the hem was only a few short inches from the bottom of her ass, "You are going to wreck my carpets if you track water all through the house. Go outside, dry off, and then come back in. Hell, if you just call me on your cellphone and tell me what you want, then I can come out and give it to you," she said.
"Fuck off mom," I said. And she got a pained look on her face and I realized that my mom was a Hell of an actor. Her hand moved quickly and she slapped me across the face. It actually hurt. I knew it was coming and it still hurt. Naturally, my hand shot up to my face. For a second, my mom looked concerned, but she stayed in character.
"You don't ever talk to me like that!" she said and then she quickly dropped down so she was sitting on the bed again. I was still holding my face and I felt her hand on my wrist. She jerked my arm hard and I fell flat against her lap, lying across her legs.
"What the hell do you think you doing?" I asked.
"Jayne, you might be an adult now, but you are still my little girl and you are still going to treat me with respect. You are a very, very bad girl and I am going to spank you," she said. She reached behind me and grabbed my bikini bottoms and she pulled them quickly down my legs. My ass was up in the air, facing the camera.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you old bitch!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I made like I was trying to stand up and she jerked my arm down hard.
"You can get up when you apologize and say that you were a bad girl," My mother said. Her arm came up and the palm of her hand slammed down hard and flat on the meatiest part of my ass. I jumped, the pain was greater than I thought it could be. I let out a little yip. My ass was warm and it felt like it was vibrating now. And the endorphins started and it felt lovely. I moaned.
"Apologize," she said.
"NO!" I cried and her hand came down again, this time on my other ass cheek. My knees felt weak and I let myself drape over my mother's legs. I closed my eyes and grunted. Now both of my ass cheeks had that delicious vibrating feeling. She demanded again that I apologize and this time I just moaned and shook my head. And then her hand came down on my ass again, harder than ever. I moaned and my whole body was shaking. I had never done this before, but it was amazing. My pussy was already getting wet.
