The Text

Note: This fictional story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent .This is a work of fiction, intended to entertain adult readers. It has graphic erotic scenes and offensive language. If you can't legally view this, please don't! All characters and names of the story are fictional! Any resemblance between these characters and any person is strictly coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are over 18.

This is just something I conjured out of the blue one night. Not edited even in the slightest. I guess there's potential for a series. I don't know yet. We'll see how things turn out.

*****

"Did you pack all your underwear?" said the woman in a hurry, packing all the bags in the car.

"What are you even asking, I think he's old enough to pack his underwear, hun." Said the man glancing at his son.

"He didn't the last time he was away." Spoke the woman glancing at her son and winking.

"The last time, I wasn't leaving home, mom!" he spoke closing the trunk of his car before he wrapped his mom in a big tight hug. And a kiss on the cheek.

"See you around Christmas." Said the dad.

"Don't forget to call. Ya know what, text. I know that's what you kids do these days isn't it, Markus?" spoke the mom.

Markus held his mother from the hug and scrunched his face, "We're not gonna be texting, mom." He spoke shaking his head, "We're not!"

"Why not?" she asked.

"We're not gonna be texting mom!" he just laughed shaking his head and got in the car, waving them goodbye as he drove away.

"Again, why did you say you won't be text her?" asked Mike.

"What do you mean?" asked Markus.

"You said, you told your mom you won't be texting her." Mike repeated unpacking the fries.

"Come on, man. Who's texts with their family. Texting is something you do with your friends and siblings, not parents. I mean, think about it. They can barely operate the modern TV remote." He lingered off, as he kept his focus on the driving.

"What?" asked Mike, "Are you saying that they're stupid?" sipping on the drink and munching the fries as he tossed his feet on the dashboard.

"Fuck you. I'm not saying that." He spoke, "When was the last time you ever texted your parents?"

"My parents don't text?" said Mike.

"Why not?" asked Markus.

"I don't know. They just don't. They do their own thing and if they need anything they just call."

"Exactly." Said Markus. "Most people of their generation only do that's necessary. They don't complicate themselves with anything elaborate."

"Yeah, I think I get what you mean?" said Mike as the conversation drifted off to something else and two hit the road for the rest of the night.

*****

It was pretty crowded at the pub that night and pretty loud. Markus snuck and shook the snow off his shoulders before he looked around before he found Mike at the bar, waving in his direction.

"What's with this place today?" Asked Markus taking his seat ordering a drink with his eyes glued to the game on the TV, trying to makes sense of who was playing.

"The game I think." Said Mike and just then, the entire pub groaned and a bunch of women in the corner laughed breaking the atmosphere.

Mike and Markus' head turned almost immediately in their direction. They caught up, with the crowd growing louder their cheers and the groans. But the highlight was the voices of the women in the corner.

Markus kept his eyes on one of the women at the table, she was a woman probably in her mid 20s. Dark hair, a vibrant personality and cute smile. And an even more cheerful laughter.

Markus finally took the courage to approach the girl and left Mike on his own.

Mike had his eyes on the game to see exactly who the entire bar was cheering for and after two goals missed, he finally figured it out. The next goal they missed Mike joined in and groaned with the crown and felt a tap on the shoulder.

"You're into the game now?" asked Markus.

Mike shrugged, "Apparently." Turning to face Markus. "So, what's her name?"

Markus pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it at Mike, the screen had a contact open named 'Mon' "Monica." He said

*****

A week passed. Markus was online on a Battle Royal game all day with Mike. With nothing but junk food and beer. He passed out on the couch in the evening and didn't wake up until later that night. It wasn't late he cleaned up and headed to bed.

Unable to sleep, for some reason. Markus laid in bed scrolling through social media when he found a picture of girl who resembled the girl from the bar.

Still a little drunk and hazy. He pulled up her contact and sent a text.

Markus: Hi.

Mon: Well well well. Look who finally decided to text. (Markus smiled at the message and began typing his reply, grinning.)

Markus: I had to take some time to actually miss you.

Mon: Oh so you intended to keep me waiting? (Markus had plenty dirty running through his head, and wondered if he could divulge this early into the conversation. She was open and very interested when they spoke at the bar.)

Markus: A little bit.

Mon: I did not expect that. (Markus could sense her disappointment.)

Markus: Well then, what did you expect?

Mon: Better... (She was sounding a lot like his mother. But she did have standards. He liked that.)

Markus: How?

Mon: I don't know. Treat a lady like a lady.

Markus: And what is that, exactly. To be treated like a lady... Lemme go get a pen and a paper.

Mon: Haha... Is that supposed to be funny?

Markus: No. I am genuinely curious what a woman of your caliber demands from a man.

Mon: From a man I expect, respect, love, compassion, support and to be a provider.

Markus: I see you haven't mentioned sex.

Mon: Sex is not something a woman expects from every man.

Markus: I guess the question is, how does she expect her sex. I think men are pretty capable of first part.

Mon: The first part?

Markus: What's the word...

Markus: Courting...

Mon: I'll give you that.

Markus: Just that?

Mon: What else do you want?

Markus: Plenty.

Mon: Like?

Markus: Oh no no no no no... It's not polite.

Mon: Not polite to even say what's on your mind? (Markus felt that she was probing him and was probably also in the mood for something dirty.)

Markus: If a woman knew what was on a guy's mind, she would consider never having to interact with a man ever.

Mon: I highly doubt that.

Markus: I speak with certainty for a reason.

Mon: Come on, you can tell me anything. (This only cemented that she possibly could be interested in getting dirty.)

Markus: Not everything.

Mon: Why not? (Markus felt that she was clearly leaning into it. Probing for more.)

Markus: Again, coz it's not polite.

Mon: That doesn't specify anything.

Markus: I'm glad that it doesn't.

Mon: Are you thinking about something dirty, Markus? (There. She came out right and asked about it herself.)

Markus: Maybe.

Mon: Don't guys think of anything else?

Markus: Is there anything else more fun to think about?

Mon: I can't think of anything but, I'm sure there's plenty.

Markus: We think of plenty. But we also happen to think about the dirty stuff a lot more.

Mon: Why is that? (She was inquisitive, she's definitely interested.)

Markus: Why is the sky blue? Why is the ocean vast?

Mon: So, now you're a philosopher?

Markus: I'm just a guy with a big boner on a late Saturday night.

Mon: Oh my god. Are we really talking about this?

Markus: Why not?

Markus: We're both adults here, right.

Mon: Well yeah... (Seems like she's on the fence. But not off it.)

Markus: So, what's the problem?

Mon: This is just not what I thought we'd be talking about texting for the first time. (Wow, that's a weird thing to say.)

Markus: What did you think we'd be talking about?

Mon: Not this. Not you talking about having a 'Big Boner' (She's caving in slowly, she's talking about my boner.)

Markus: Oh come on. I'm sure you're not a prude. Don't act like one.

Mon: I'm not acting like prude.

Markus: So the reason you're getting so defensive is because you are in fact a prude?

Mon: No.

Mon: I'm not a prude.

Markus: It's ok, It's fine to be a prude, I guess. You don't need to pretend for my sake.

Mon: I'm not a prude. I enjoy sex very much.

Markus: How much?

Mon: More than you know. (Gee... Don't I wonder.)

Markus: That's the thing. I don't. I won't unless you tell me.

Mon: What do you wanna to know?

Markus: Do you own a toy?

Mon: A toy?

Markus: A dildo. Or a vibrator.

Mon took a moment to reply but she did.

Mon: I do.

Markus: Which one is it?

Mon: A vibrator.

Mon: Do you?

Markus: Do I what? Own a sex toy?

Mon: Yes.

Markus: That's funny.

Mon: Why's that funny.

Markus: Guys on the majority, don't use toys.

Mon: Well then how do you...

Markus: I thought I was asking the questions.

Mon: So, I'm not allowed to ask questions, now?

Markus: You can, of course. I just don't want to lose my train of thought.

Mon: Lol. Okay. Go on.

Markus: So, when was the last time you used it.

There was no reply after that and he wondered if he should send anything else. Or delete the message. But the last message was marked read. So, there's no point doing that. She probably thought he was a creep and he decided not to entertain his urges. Or atleast that's what he presumed.

Markus woke up the next morning, with the phone still in bed. He smiled at the conversation they had and realized he might have gone overboard and possibly ruined something good.

He took a shower and realized he should probably call her and apologize and ask her out officially. At the risk of what seems could clearly possible rejection.

He grabbed his phone getting dressed and hovered over the call button on the contacts next to her name. He contemplate a moment before he realized sending a text would be less awkward. If she replies he can pursue her again, if not he can consider the loss.

The moment he tapped on the message button on her contact, the screen opened to a fresh new screen with none of the previous message on there. He hit back and reopened the message by hitting on the message button on her contact. Same thing.

He switched the phone, off and on and opened the messages app this time and messages were there. And it wasn't until then that he realized the one he's been messaging the night before wasn't Mon, but MOM!

"FUCK!" he gasped out loud as limps fell weak. The phone slipped off his grasp and fell.

*****

Alison watched her son drive away as her smile slowly faded. It didn't take long before her husband, Charlie left for his weekend golf.

This was the first time in decades that she was on her own in the house. No children or husband to take care of. She hadn't been on her own since before she had the kids. Watching her son leave left her empty. She was emotional and despite her state Charlie didn't bother being there for her.

She tried her best to focus on some house hold errands but, no. Once the sun set and it finally got dark out. She found herself in the house all alone. The was missing her family already.

She retired upstairs and prepped herself a nice long bath before she picked up her vibrator. With the only thought of seeking comfort and physical pleasure to take her mind off her son and how much she missed him.

*****

Her heart pounding in her chest. She slowed down her pace running as, nearing home. She quit working when she and Charlie decided to start a family. Here she was with her family out of the house finally and contemplating her day for the first time in 2 and a half decades.

She took a shower and posed in front of the mirror admiring herself before she let the towel go and took a good look at herself. She could help but smile. She pulled out the vibrator and helped herself to some fun before Charlie arrived.

Over the following weeks her routine changed from what it was when Markus was home to something else entirely. Charlie as ever, never noticed any changes. Alison was growing more fit and in shape. She still dressed like a mom, chose comfort over looks.

For a woman in her mid 40s, she still held her form. She worked out every day. And kept everything perked up. And yet chose to dress in clothes that stole from her best features.

If the empty house gave her anything, it was the realization of exactly how pent up and physically frustrated she actually was.

She remembered reading something about how a woman reaches her sexual peak in her 40s and 50s. And given how she was close, she getting the confirmation she sought. And with Charlie going away on his trips as often as he did, she orgasmed herself to sleep almost every night.

She woke up every morning with a big smile. It barely took a walk around the empty house to get her moods in a rut. She kept busy on the internet, looking for work similar to something she used to do before she decided to start a family.

She had barely worked a few years, she got married so quickly. She constantly doubted herself of her ability to join the workforce.

If was a Tuesday night and Alison was on the couch, with her laptop on the coffee table and her TV on with a large glass of wine in hand. She nursed her drink slowly. Eyes glued to the TV. A reality show about a number of women fighting over rich man, sculpted like a green god. Taking turns flirting with the man, taunting and teasing him, provocatively.

Despite feeling the familiar tingle between her legs. And despite being late, knowing well that she would usually be in bed, screaming and quaking to an orgasm with her vibrator between her legs. She chose to get drunk and indulge TV Drama.

It must have probably been her 5

th

glass. When her phone pinged. She picked it up and almost instantly her face lit up.

Markus: Hi. (She couldn't contain herself. Despite having explicitely telling her that they won't ever be texting. Here he was texting her.)

Mon: Well well well. Look who finally decided to text.

Markus: I had to take some time to actually miss you. (It was his typical way of talking. Casual but flirty. But something was off. She could tell immediately. But not quite.)

Mon: Oh so you intended to keep me waiting?

Markus: A little bit. (He was actually flirting with her)

Mon: I did not expect that.

Markus: Well then, what did you expect?

Mon: Better... (She was of course disappointed that he chose to text. Two weeks after he'd left. Not a work. Not call.)

Markus: How?

Mon: I don't know. Treat a lady like a lady. (Maybe it was the wine. But she expected more from Markus.)

Markus: And what is that, exactly. To be treated like a lady... Lemme go get a pen and a paper.

Mon: Haha... Is that supposed to be funny? (She put the TV to mute and cozied up on the couch. Was he teasing her?)

Markus: No. I am genuinely curious what a woman of your caliber demands from a man. (A woman of my caliber? What does he mean by that? And why did he refer to her as a 'woman' and himself a 'man')

Mon: From a man I expect, respect, love, compassion, support and to be a provider. (She spoke in general, not taking took much of the queue.)

Markus: I see you haven't mentioned sex. (She was taken by surprise. Is he aware of who he was talking to? Or was he just teasing her to make her uncomfortable.)

Mon: Sex is not something a woman expects from every man. (Coz this was her son. Obviously.)

Markus: I guess the question is, how does she expect her sex. I think men are pretty capable of first part.

Mon: The first part?

Markus: What's the word...

Markus: Courting...

Mon: I'll give you that. (She chucked and wondered if he was seeking her advice on the said subject.)

Markus: Just that? (He was probing her. Was he actually flirting with her. She felt weirdly uncomfortable. And weirdly eased.)

Mon: What else do you want?

Markus: Plenty. (He was definitely flirting with her. Should she stop him?)

Mon: Like? (Why did he asked that? OMG. But she was enjoying it more than she'd care to admit.)

Markus: Oh no no no no no... It's not polite. (He DEFINITELY was flirting with her.)

Mon: Not polite to even say what's on your mind? (Despite the fact that this was her son, she was still curious of what he had in his mind.)

Markus: If a woman knew what was on a guy's mind, she would consider never having to interact with a man ever. (Having been hit on by as many men as she has in her days, she was certain of what he was talking about. And was surprised her was flirting with her openly.)

Mon: I highly doubt that. (Despite her discomfort, she continued to play along.)

Markus: I speak with certainty, for a reason.

Mon: Come on, you can tell me anything. (She was his mother after all)

Markus: Not everything. (Not everything, was he keeping things from her. Of course most boys do. But she always assumed they were close. And if he could flirt with her like this. He could definitely tell her what 'it' was.)

Mon: Why not?

Markus: Again, coz it's not polite.

Mon: That doesn't specify anything.

Markus: I'm glad that it doesn't. (That seemed like an end to the conversation. In hindsight, she still could tell why she chose to continue and say what she did. But she did.)

Mon: Are you thinking about something dirty, Markus? (She rolled her eyes with a smile and typing. It's not she was unaware he was sexually active. He's caught him watching porn a bunch of times. He's had girlfriends in the past. Thinking of which had her suspicions raised.)

Markus: Maybe.

Mon: Don't guys think of anything else?

Markus: Is there anything else more fun to think about? (He was actually leaning into it. She was wondered if he was even aware that he was actually texting his mother.)

Mon: I can't think of anything but, I'm sure there's plenty. (Despite her doubts, she still leaned into the flirting. Maybe it was the drinks, or the fact that her new flow of habit, that she should probably be fucking herself with the vibrator. She leaned into the flirting.)

Markus: We think of plenty. But we also happen to think about the dirty stuff a lot more.

Mon: Why is that?

Markus: Why is the sky blue? Why is the ocean vast? (She almost laughed out loud.)

Mon: So, now you're a philosopher?

Markus: I'm just a guy with a big boner on a late Saturday night. (The fact that he said that was proof, that he wasn't aware that he was in fact texting his mother. Everything in her screamed, to confess that it was Alison. But the shock was too overwhelming.)

Mon: Oh my god. Are we really talking about this?

Markus: Why not?

Markus: We're both adults here, right. (He DEFINITELY has no idea who he's talking to.)

Mon: Well yeah... (She should have stopped. But she was too far gone. She was enjoying this more than she was disgusted of where this was going.)

Markus: So, what's the problem?

Mon: This is just not what I thought we'd be talking about texting for the first time. (She confessed that this being the first time they've texted to queue him to question who he was talking to.)

Markus: What did you think we'd be talking about? (Nope. He didn't take the queue. Maybe this was someone he just met. Which only made her wonder, just how easy girls really are these days.)

Mon: Not this. Not you talking about having a 'Big Boner' (She was conceding to the absurdity of the conversation, still not having revealed that he was texting Alison.)

Markus: Oh come on. I'm sure you're not a prude. Don't act like one. (She was offended by that remark. This would have been her queue to let him know what he was just doing.)

Mon: I'm not acting like prude. (But her body was more in control of what she was say than her brain. She felt the need to defend herself more than end this charade.)