Mom-Son Club

They arrived home, and they parted and went their separate ways to spend the rest of the day doing different things. Marcus went on a long run, and Beth pulled weeds from her flower garden. She weeded with a vengeance, leaving no stray, unwanted plant intact, until she had stacked a row of weed piles alongside the garden bed. The vigor of the weeding took her mind off the revelations of the club meeting. When she was done, a mixture of sweat and dirt caked her skin. She raked up all the weeds and dumped everything into the green waste can and went back into the house. By the time she was done with a long shower, and she had thrown on a short, tawny peasant skirt and a loose white cotton blouse, it was time to start thinking about dinner.

She cooked spaghetti and heated up a jar of ready-made marinara sauce and quickly mixed and tossed a green salad while Marcus took his own shower after his run. Marcus entered the kitchen, once again in his usual uniform of shorts and t-shirt, and at Beth's request, he sliced the bread. They didn't say anything to each other. It seemed better that way. Talking about the club would have been awkward. But talking about something else would have been just as awkward. Silence was the only comfortable recourse.

After getting dinner on the table and sitting down, Beth and Marcus chit-chatted about what they'd done that day, Beth talking about her weed-pulling and Marcus talking about his running. They tip-toed around what they were thinking about until their plates were nearly empty, and the loaf of bread was gone. Beth eventually got back to the point.

"You really want this, Marcus?" she asked.

"I do, Mom. I really do."

"Hmmm," she said. They stood up from the table, cleared it off, and cleaned the dishes.

"Let's watch a movie later tonight, Mom," Marcus said.

"OK," Beth replied. Marcus seemed to have a stronger notion of what he wanted than she did, and she let him direct events.

Beth retired to her bedroom, to be alone for a while with her thoughts before she watched a movie with Marcus. Her thoughts were a jumble and she wanted to try to untangle them. She closed the bedroom door behind her and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Marcus wants to have sex with me," she said out loud, to herself. "My son wants to have sex with me."

What did she think of that?

Her first instinct was that it was wrong, and no responsible mother could do that. And yet, earlier in the day, at Lorena's house, she had had brunch with eight other women, all of them seemingly respectable, attractive, and well-heeled, who were having sex with their sons. It didn't cohere with anything she had ever known or experienced in her life, but there it was. The fact of it was unavoidable.

Marcus wanted her. Her son desired her. She couldn't deny the fact: it was flattering that her handsome young son, who easily could find attractive women his own age to date, wanted her. Lately, she had felt deflated, sexually, and undesirable. Only in the last year had she finally gotten over the death of her husband, and she wondered when or if she would date again. Her few experiences dating, usually through online sites, had left her unimpressed. The men her own age seemed to be seeking women 10 years younger. The men interested in her were mostly ten years or more older. She was 46, but still in good shape, and she wasn't ready to date men who were stooped over and gray and paunchy.

Marcus was none of those things. He sported an unruly thatch of chestnut hair, and he had a lean, intelligent face and hazel eyes, and he stood six feet one in bare feet with broad shoulders and a thin waist. If she had been his age, hell yes, she would have been interested. Ken, her deceased husband, had looked much the same way when he had been young, and he had swept her off her feet when he had been a promising first-year medical student and she had taken classes in nursing school.

Beth was surprised that Marcus had no girlfriend. He was good-looking enough and smart enough. He had a pleasant, easy manner with people. But for whatever reason, he hadn't formed an attachment with anyone.

"Mom?" Marcus's voice, beyond the bedroom door, interrupted her thoughts. "Do you want to watch the movie?"

"Sure!" she called out to him. Beth wasn't sure what she wanted. She was willing to defer to Marcus.

Beth took a detour to the kitchen to get another glass of wine before heading to the living room to join her son for the movie. Goodness knows, she didn't need another glass, after having had so many at brunch, but she still felt on edge, and the wine would calm and dull her nerves.

Marcus sat on the sofa already, beer in hand. Beth sat on the sofa two feet away from him with her glass of wine, and she sipped it as his fingers clicked the remote. They watched a romantic sex comedy--Marcus's choice. The frequent displays of skin left Beth feeling antsy and agitated by the time her wine glass was drained and the movie's credits had finished. Marcus kept his distance until the movie was done, and then he patted the sofa next to his side.

"Mom, let's talk."

Beth said nothing but scooted along the sofa surface until she sat next to Marcus.

"I want to try something," Marcus said. "They said this would be a good... icebreaker. You don't have to say anything or decide anything. But can I try something?"

"What?"

"Just trust me. OK?"

Beth didn't know what to say.

"OK," she said, finally.

Marcus scooted as far back on the sofa as he could and opened his legs wide, leaving an open space on the sofa between his thighs. He patted it.

"Over here, Mom."

Reluctantly but obediently, Beth did as her son asked, lifting herself off the couch and reseating herself until she sat between her son's legs. Her heart raced. She did not know what he was going to do, and she wasn't sure if she could bear it. His chest pressed into her back, and she felt the warmth of his breath on her hair and on her neck.

"Just relax. I won't do too much, but this will feel good. All the other moms have gone through this."

Beth still wasn't sure she wanted to be like the other moms, but there was some faint comfort in knowing that she was not alone--that all the women she had met earlier in the day would approve and encourage what she now did with Marcus.

Her son lay a hand, almost imperceptibly, on the skin of her thigh just below the hem of her short dress. He did nothing more for what seemed like many seconds.

"How does that feel?"

"It feels good," Beth said, her voice small. The living room, though not big, seemed like a still, vast cavern. She felt lost in it.

Marcus traced a small circle on her thigh. Beth marveled at his deliberation and patience. There was nothing urgent or needy about it. His touch was so light that she had to focus all her attention on it to appreciate it fully.

"They told me how to do this. What to say and what to do," Marcus said.

"They?"

"Lorena and her son Victor. At their house last week. I watched them. She coached me."

"You watched them?"

"Yeah. I watched as he put his hands on her like this."

Beth felt another hand, at her neck, two fingers pressed gently below her jawline, running up beneath her ear. His hands moved independently, keeping her senses off-kilter, but they moved with perfect softness. There was something almost innocent about the way they moved over her skin, but the touch was arousing at the same time. Beth's body slackened, softening to the light, expert touch. She would not have credited her son with such skills. Lorena had been a good coach. No man had ever been so deliberate in the way he touched her before.

Beth wondered what his hands would do, and where they would go. She could stop him at any time. Or could she? Marcus was much bigger and stronger than she was. If she pushed, would he push back?

Before she could explore the thought further, Marcus's fingers lifted off her neck, and they were replaced by his lips. He kissed her on the neck with almost infinite delicacy. It was no more than a whisper of a kiss.

Beth gasped.

And then he stopped.

She wondered if he was regrouping to kiss her or touch her again, but no, his body shifted back, away from her.

"Wasn't that nice?" he asked. "I'm going to go to bed."

Beth stood up to let him get off the sofa, and they hugged, and he walked off to his bedroom. Beth was nonplussed. She didn't know how to feel. The touch of his hands on her skin had been marvelous, and she was, no doubt about it, aroused. But not quite to the point of feeling shameful or guilty. Yet it had been Marcus who had pulled away. Horny men weren't supposed to be able to do that, were they? But he had. His control disconcerted her.

Beth walked away to her own bedroom, on the other side of the house. She lay in bed for a long time, pondering things, before she fell asleep.

* * * *

The next day was a Monday, so Beth woke up early to get ready for work. Marcus's job started later than hers, so he ambled into the kitchen looking for coffee when she was nearly done and ready to get into her car. She expected him to say something, but he didn't. Marcus's words when she left for work were no more than a mumbled "So long."

All day, Beth tried to pay attention to work and forget the previous day's events, but she couldn't do it. She walked through the corridors of the hospital, tending to patient after patient, trying to give each her full attention, but her son's words loomed before her like a neon sign everywhere she went:

"I want this, Mom."

At home, that night, later than usual, Beth cooked dinner and heard the door shut when Marcus came home. Half an hour later they sat at the dinner table together to eat. For a while they ate in silence, forks poking tentatively at the beef stroganoff she had cooked, until Beth spoke.

"Marcus, say something."

Marcus acted surprised.

"What do you want me to say, Mom?" he asked.

"You can't drop this on me and say nothing. It's driving me crazy."

"What do you want me to say?"

Beth was stumped. She wasn't sure what she wanted Marcus to say.

"Make sense of this for me, please," she said. "What made you want this? Did something happen?"

Marcus waited long before answering.

"No. Not really. It wasn't like a light bulb suddenly came on. It was a slow thing. I wasn't really satisfied with dates or hookups. I noticed you weren't dating. We were in the house together all the time, and it seemed like you were lonely. I started looking at you differently. Less as a mom, more as a person, if that makes sense. And there was this one time."

"Yes?"

"It was late at night. I wanted to ask you something. I forget what. I walked to your bedroom, and the door was closed, and I heard you."

"Heard me?" But Beth knew what he meant.

"You were moaning. You were obviously masturbating. I listened. It went on for a long time. I was surprised how long. I sat on the floor outside your bedroom, and I started doing it to myself. I remember hearing you come, and I came right after that. I thought I made a noise and you'd hear me, but I don't think you did. I tiptoed away. I made a big mess and had to clean up."

"My god, Marcus," Beth said. Fascination at his story mingled with embarrassment.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "It's not like a switch just flipped or anything, but after that I didn't think of you the same way. I thought of you in your room needing something. And I needed something. I had these feelings, and I went online, and one thing led to another, and I found a couple guys who belonged to the club. And they encouraged my feelings. They didn't think it was sick or weird or anything like that. And eventually I met Victor, and then I met his mom, Lorena."

He paused.

"Go on," Beth said.

"They invited me over to their house. It was just me, and Victor, and his mom. And they showed me."

"Showed you?"

"They did it. In front of me. They had sex. I watched Victor having sex with his mom. I couldn't believe how hot it was. When they were done, I knew. I wanted that, too. I still do, Mom."

Beth didn't respond. She didn't know what to say. Marcus kept stumping her.

"It's OK, Mom. You don't have to say anything. It's a lot to take in."

Beth expected further entreaties or explanations--that Marcus had in mind a process of seduction that he would continue, now having helped explain his feelings further and having opened the door. But he said nothing. He stood up, and he took his dishes to the sink and cleaned them before putting them up to dry. When he was done, he turned to Beth and waived.

"Good night, Mom."

Once again, Beth was left frustrated--provoked, and, if she was being honest, titillated, but unsatisfied. Her son left her stewing in her own complicated thoughts, and it was in that mood that after a while she too cleaned her dishes and walked to her bedroom for a restless night's sleep.

* * * *

Two days later, after working a long shift at the hospital, Beth dressed for a run. Marcus had neither said nor done anything unusual since their dinner conversation: no flirting, no gestures, no offer to talk further. He was difficult to read. Beth tried to take her mind off the odd vibe between them, but it wasn't easy. She thought a vigorous run might help as she donned her shoes, shorts, and tank top.

She began doing calf stretches against the wall and winced at a stitch in her thigh.

"Something wrong, Mom?" Marcus asked.

"Just a cramp in my leg," she said. "I'll work it out."

"Let me help."

Before she could protest, Marcus led her by the hand to a chair and beckoned her to sit down. He knelt in front of her and took her thigh in his hands and began to massage her. It felt wonderful. His touch, again, was soft, patient, and deliberate. It was more caress than massage. Slowly, his fingers worked their way up her leg. She was aware of the brevity of her nylon shorts, and the way the leg openings gapped. She couldn't see what Marcus could see, but she imagined he might be able to see up inside her shorts to the whisper-thin built-in briefs that barely covered her privates.

She breathed more heavily.

His fingers move up, still further, until they were just under the edge of her shorts, kneading and pressing the skin of her thigh. Her conscience cautioned her against where the hands might go, but another sense, unnamed, warmed to his touched and willed the hands on. Yes, touch, it said.

But once again, Marcus pulled away, on his own. The massage had succeeded. Her leg felt better. But inside, Beth felt frustrated.

She stood up, left the house, and went on her run. When she returned, Marcus was cooking dinner. He had been doing that more often lately, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness. She appreciated his skill, too. Their supper--roasted potatoes and grilled chicken--was delicious.

After dinner, Marcus offered to clean the dishes. Beth's phone rang. She swiped open the connection in her bedroom.

"Hello?"

"Beth?"

"It's Lorena. I hope I caught you at an OK time."

"Sure. Yes."

"I wanted to invite you to lunch at my place this Saturday. Are you free?"

"Yes! Thanks."

Beth surprised herself at her eagerness to accept. It had been a while since she'd had a meal with a friend. Lorena wasn't quite a friend--not yet--but Beth thought she might become one.

"You know the location. How does noon sound?"

"Perfect."

They chatted a bit about the weather and about their sons for a few minutes--nothing salacious--and Lorena graciously said goodbye.

* * * *

Beth dressed a little more sexily for her second event at Lorena's house. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a need to keep up, and Lorena set a high standard. The green dress she wore hugged her figure more tightly than the previous dress had, and it showed off more thigh. Greeting Beth at the door, Lorena looked as immaculate as ever. Victor was nowhere to be seen, and Lorena explained he was out with friends for the day.

Lorena was the perfect host. They ate a lunch of small sandwiches and chopped salads with a bottle of Chardonnay on a small table on the backyard patio. They passed the time in small talk for a while until Lorena came to the point.

"I suppose you still have many questions about all this," she said.

"That's an understatement," Beth said.

Lorena smiled.

"You accepted my invitation, so that's a good sign. Beth, Marcus told me about what's going on. At the house with you. He told me about the session you had. After the movie. That's something we encourage. A nonsexual way to break the ice, to get the mom and son comfortable with touching each other. It was nice, wasn't it?"

"It was strange," Beth said. "But Marcus was very... patient. He has a skillful touch."

"I know. He's very good."

"You know?"

"I do. Beth, I'm going to say something startling. Please be patient and listen."

Lorena paused and Beth waited with bated breath.

"Marcus came over to the house the other day, while Victor and I were here. We talked for a while about how things were going. And... "

"And?"

"I instructed him to finger me."

"My son fingered you? You mean, inside you?"

"Yes, inside me. Don't be startled. It's something we teach all the young men. They must learn how to touch and to please. Marcus fingered me, until I came. I orgasmed. It didn't take long. He's got talent. I hope you experience it soon. Victor and I coached him the whole time."

Beth's head reeled. This was all too strange.

"Did--" She couldn't say the words easily. "Did anything else happen? Did he?"

"Fuck me? No." The f-word sounded surprising in Beth's ears. Lorena presented as too refined and cultured to let such a word pass her lips. Beth resigned herself to the fact that her time with Lorena was always a lesson in surprise.

"No," Lorena continued. "Sex itself is something we reserve for the mother and son, as part of their special bond, unless, once they've joined the club, they and another couple agree to share. You're not there yet. The purpose of this exercise was to help make sure that Marcus could do his part, to please you. I assure you, he can. Your son is going to make you very happy, if you let him."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say much," Lorena said, laughing. "You could just nod! But seriously, if I'm reading the tea leaves correctly about the two of you, Beth, you and Marcus are perfect for each other. He wants you so badly."

"Really? That's hard to tell. He seems so... restrained."

"That's part of their training, too. We're training them to be men, not just horny boys. They must control their urges and focus on the bigger prize."

"Bigger prize?"

"To get you into bed, Beth, and to make love to you until you surrender to his desire for you. Beth, believe me, it's the most wonderful feeling. Giving yourself to your son, totally and completely. Soaking up his need and desire for you, and giving it back. You have no idea. Victor and I--we're crazy for each other. We have sex every day, and sometimes several times a day."

"Really?"

"Really. It's the best sex, Beth. Mind-blowing. I'm sure it will be that way between you and Marcus. All those words in your head, the disapproving words--strike them out of your brain. Do an exercise for me. Visualize. Imagine it happening. You. Marcus. Making love. Let go and imagine it."

Something about Lorena's tone of voice would not be denied, so Beth did as Lorena asked, and she pictured it. The image formed slowly, and her mind took time embracing it and letting it take shape. But at last, it did: Marcus on top of her, his hands caressing her, gently as before, but also guiding her and opening her to his desire, until at last he pressed inside her and filled her. The taboo faded, and the image grew sharper, the lines clearer, the colors more saturated.