This is a work of fiction, and all characters are over the age of 18.
--------------------------------------------------------
It's a bright afternoon. In the backyard of a white, 2-story house, two middle-aged women sit outside by the pool. Wrapped in skimpy bikinis, they are sunbathing on beach chairs while sipping on alcoholic drinks.
"Where's that son of yours?" a redheaded, 42-year-old Meredith Warner asks, behind a salted martini glass.
"He's where he always is. Down in the basement working out," Linda Walker replies, setting down her own drink by the leg of her chair.
Like Farrah Fawcett in her heyday, Linda's bottle-blonde hair is shoulder-length, feathered, and parted in the middle. Proud of her body, she's wearing a tightly tied yellow string bikini that lifts her plump assets in all the right ways. Below her blue eyes and high cheek-boned smile, her breasts sit firm and round on her chest, like two luscious melons.
Under her ample tits is a flat tummy. And below that are wide child bearing hips that lead down to a large, heart-shaped ass; it's an amazing rear that jiggles just the right amount when she walks.
Linda sighs, "Too bad that boy doesn't wanna be seen with his mom any more. Used to love our mother-son Saturdays. Cheap matinee movies with popcorn... Used to always grab frozen yogurt afterwards too."
In the lounge chair next to Linda, Meredith sits back and blows out a breath, "Yeah, well, just be glad you don't have any girls. Cynthia and Rachel are always borrowing my makeup, perfume, and all of my clothes. And if they're not wrinkling and staining my good outfits, they're forgetting to wash 'em and they never put anything back where it belongs. Besides, most kids don't wanna be seen with their parents. It's an age thing, like a rite of passage or something."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Linda moodily counters.
The truth is Mark Walker stopped wanting to hang out with his dear old mom at 13. He's 18 now and only wants to do two things: hang out with his cheerleader girlfriend, Kelly McCarthy, and work out. Linda knows he's just trying to get ready for Marine Basic Training (he's leaving in a few weeks), but she wishes he would still want to do things with her too. Especially before he ships out.
The reality is, on the cusp of losing her son's company entirely, Linda's feeling lonely.
The messed up situation with her husband, Tom, isn't helping either. Not since he became a partner at the large law firm he works at. And especially not since he started sleeping with his new, much younger secretary. Nancy Collins is a naturally blonde, 24-year-old, bright eyed and bushy tailed, home wrecking whore (who walked into Tom's office right out of college).
Linda can't believe Tom thinks she's stupid enough not to notice he's fucking the slut.
Although not a lawyer herself (she's a work-from-home insurance agent), even she knows that a man can only have so many weekend seminars, late work nights, impromptu client luncheons, and far away office retreats in one year. Linda also knows that Tom is only still with her because of the sizable inheritance that was handed over to her when she was in college (her parents passed in a car accident).
Who do you think put him through law school back in the day? And whose late family connections helped kick start his damn career?
Yes, Linda's going to leave his cheating ass. She's just waiting for her son to leave the house first. That way her baby boy's not around to witness the messy fallout.
"Mark still seeing that pretty little blonde? Cynthia apparently had a few classes with her last year. Calls her stuck up among other things. Honestly? I think she's just jealous," Meredith rolls off with an equal roll of her eyes.
"Yeah. He is. And," Linda offhandedly replies, "I'm surprised the girl's not somewhere around here already. She's always coming over with that fake ass smile. I'm telling you, jealous or not, Cynthia's probably right. A mother can tell."
To Linda, Mark's girlfriend just has this overly friendly attitude that screams she's actually rotten to the core. She really hopes the little bitch doesn't end up using her son and ruining his life. Pretty girls who know they're pretty tend to do things like that. Linda knows. She used to run in the same circles as them in both high school and college.
All the Beauty Pageants her mother used to force her to participate in were always full of them too.
'If she tries to ruin my boy, I'll fucking ruin her face,' Linda vengefully thinks, picking up her drink.
Sipping her martini, Linda sighs again as the kid next door mowing the lawn gets closer to the fence. She can't see him because the white boards between them are too high, but she knows what he looks like.
All the middle-age women in the neighborhood do. Billy is a handsome, sandy-haired, 19-year-old college student who likes to wear khaki shorts and no shirt while he makes a little side money mowing and trimming neighbors' yards. Right now, he's in his own.
"Can't he do that some other time?" Linda complains.
"Let the boy work," Meredith tells her, before she suggestively calls out over the noise, "Hey, Billy! Are you still coming by to do my 'lawn' tomorrow?"
"You know it, Mrs. Warner!" Billy eagerly shouts back over the mower's motor.
"You are not," Linda trails off, shocked.
A divorced Meredith proudly hums before sipping her drink, "Mm. Oh, yes, I am."
Even knowing how promiscuous her friend has become since her husband, Henry, left 2 years ago, Linda still can't help but shake her head.
"You cradle robbing slut."
"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," Meredith replies, defensively. "Young guys are so malleable. And that dirty mouthed boy knows how to work an asshole now thanks to yours truly. No pun intended, but he really knows his shit....Haven't you ever tried anal before?"
"Kind of always wanted to," Linda admits, thoughtful, before she sighs, "But Tom thinks it's gross. Hell, he didn't even like going down on me. Just another reason why I want to divorce him. Well, that and his little affair that everyone and their mother already knows about except my son."
"You should try it," Meredith urges (purposely ignoring the beef she has with Tom that Linda always brings up), "Hell, it's your 40th birthday soon, right? Give Billy over there a whirl. He's a great guy to handle your first anal experience. Trust me. If Tom can get his rocks off, so can you. Honestly, when's the last time you had sex? I bet your pussy's got bats hanging out in it already."
"Better than crabs," Linda laughs back.
But it's a hollow laugh. The sad truth is she hasn't had anything other than her own fingers inside her since her and Tom's anniversary last year.
'Honestly,' she thinks, 'I really need to get over my stupid embarrassment and just buy a damn vibrator. You can get them shipped in discreet packages nowadays ... can't you?'
Off to the side, the sliding glass doors open.
