On the Loveseat Ch. 19

I answered with as few words as I could.

The two of stood there wordlessly, each avoiding the other's gaze for very different reasons.

I couldn't even imagine the expression he would have had if he found out that I had been with mom as he had just been. And numerous times. That she had stated to me that I was the better lover. Even if I now doubted the veracity of those words, accounting them just pillow talk.

Mom came bustling back downstairs, pausing at seeing her two lovers standing awkwardly ignoring each other.

Her lowered eyes rose to meet my face and she wished me a good night.

I scowled and hurried to my sanctuary. Dad called out my name as a reprimand.

It wasn't only a renewed interest in sex between both my parents. They were seemingly constantly touching each other.

Dad would grab mom by her shoulders, resting his hands there as if declaring his possession. Mom ran her fingertips over his forearms as they talked, which they did more often. Dad would come up behind her and hug her around her waist; the implication of the little jerk of his hips as he did so wasn't lost on me. Mom would giggle and turn to take his cheeks in her palms then end in a kiss that would make me avert my gaze. It seemed a moment didn't pass that one of them wasn't in contact with the other.

It was sickening.

And I wasn't the only one affected this way.

One afternoon after dad had come home, the two of them were cavorting about heedless of their children's presence. My brother, bless him for speaking the words that I wanted to say in spite, came out and told our parents, "Do the two of you have to do that? Can't you be like other parents and ignore each other?"

I had to turn my grinning face before either of them noticed.

Dad came back with, "Sorry son, but your parents love each other and can't help but show it."

He grinned to show he wasn't offended by his younger son's words.

Anything I might have added would surely have caused offense.

Mom did glance at me, trying to do so discreetly, but her presence in the room was the focus of my awareness whether I was looking her way or not.

Not that I had any intention of breaking my promise to mom or cause any distress with Aunt Jessica, but I needed someone to talk to about my ruined life. And if something should happen while I was there, I wouldn't necessarily resist very much.

So one evening after dinner, I went over to my aunt's house.

She was surprised to see me, and yet also acted as if she had been waiting for me.

I shouldn't have been surprised, but it was kind of a shock to find that my normally ebullient aunt was cool to me.

We exchanged pleasantries briefly. She asked about school and if I had made any final plans for college next year. She inquired about Johnny and Jojo as if she didn't get regular updates about our household from her sister. It was obvious that she was avoiding mentioning anything about mom and me.

"I said all along that things would end badly." Was all that she said in acknowledgement of the situation.

I silently nodded in a non-reply.

I wasn't going to get any sympathy here. At least not now while things were still so fresh and painful.

She did give me a loving hug as I was about to leave and I thought I heard the intake of breath as if she was about to say something more, but she just pulled away from me with a saddened smile.

My smile was more of a grimace as I said goodbye to my gorgeous aunt.

Mom's stare at me when I returned home told me that she somehow knew where I had gone. It was a cold and almost vacant look that made me feel guilty for something that didn't happen. I couldn't believe that her sister had called to inform on me, but I didn't know what to believe anymore.

To help distract myself, and to improve my academic standing, I took on an extra credit project for my History class. I threw myself at this diversion with all my pent-up energy. It was while studying the effects that the American Civil War had on the country that it hit me. Even when things looked bleak for the northern troops and the secessionists were only miles from Washington D.C. they didn't give up. They fought on for what they believed was right.

What was that saying? 'All's fair in love and war'. That's what this was, a war. A battle for my mother's love. I had conceded on her word without putting up a fight. I just had to prove to her that I loved her more than dad did.

I finished the project in a rush within days of this revelation as I was now focused on my strategy for getting mom back.

First, I had to make her aware that I wasn't done with her.

I came out of my seclusion to the smiles of my parents, as they believed I was now out of my funk. In a way I was. Mom's smile wasn't as broad and open as dad's, but was furtive and demure, still unable to meet my gaze.

A gaze that was now directed at her all the time. She caught my looks but turned away as if we had only met each other's eyes coincidentally. Only after a half dozen such times did mom finally realize that my stare had never wavered. She still averted her eyes, but not as her attention was directed elsewhere, but more as if she couldn't bear up to my scrutiny.

Mom never commented about my staring, as it wasn't as if I was doing anything wrong. Her image was already burned into my brain; this was only incidental longing looks. She couldn't, or wouldn't, say anything as that would be admitting that she was bothered by my intense gazes.

I then began to make comments about her wardrobe, complimenting the different outfits that she wore each day. I could still picture her naked form beneath those articles of clothing as she moved about the house, even as I appreciated the drape of her skirt and the way a blouse clung to the curves of her tits. I never was so coarse with my words, merely praising her fashion choices and the way the colors brought out her eyes, or matched her hair color, or contrasted with her skin tone. She took my flattery in stride, giving me a warning look once or twice before accepting my words in the spirit that she assumed they were meant, as a conciliatory gesture.

That was far from my intent.

I wanted her to know that I still noticed her and respected her as a woman.

It seemed innocent enough that she came to smile back at me when I told her how good she looked.

I had to show her that it wasn't innocent praise though.

My lust for her had never faltered and now that my anger had passed through me, my hormones were once again in control. Staring at mom and seeing her as I had once had, on her knees, spread-eagle on her bed, on her hands and knees atop me in my bed, had me continually hard.

I didn't keep it hidden while I was around mom, instead I made an effort to let her know of my condition. Her dismay was clear, but I saw her eyes didn't avoid my loins, even if she did avert them nearly immediately. We might not be having sex anymore but I wanted it known the effect she continued to have on me and that she couldn't pretend that she did not know it.

At one point when we were alone, I pulled out my rock hard dick and I waved it at mom from across the living room. She stared at it for a moment and then into my eyes. She crossed the room purposefully and her hand shot out to grab my erection. Mom squeezed it so tightly that I could still see the marks her fingers left on it later. I winced as I stared into her eyes.

"If you ever do this again, I will rip it off and then have to wait for Johnny or Jojo before I get to have any grandkids!" Mom growled before she released me and stormed from the room.

I tried to grin through my pain. I saw it as a win.

Mom didn't have to put her hand on my cock to warn me!

Without mom as a release for my constant supply of semen, I had to relieve myself numerous times a day. I took this as an opportunity to melt mom's resolve. I made sure she knew of the time I was spending alone in my room, or in the bathroom. I would grin at her before and/or after I did this. Mostly she would just shake her head at my not-so-subtle subterfuge.

I had to believe it was having its affect.

I held off for a day and a half, building up a good amount, then took a plastic cup, and quickly jerked off into it. I wasn't done yet, and as I pictured mom on her knees sucking my dick, I was able to cum again into the container.

I rushed down to bring the cup to mom.

"You aren't getting it from the machine anymore, so I decided to deliver it." I said cheerfully.

Mom took the cup without pause, but then when she saw its contents and realized what it was, her eyes flared wide. She angrily shook her head in disgust as she dumped my cum into the sink.

I turned, cautiously, and said as I walked away, "Your loss."

Mom turned away from me and must have assumed I had left. Rather, I had slowed to study her reaction.

She gazed at the clear plastic for a moment, the remains pooling at the bottom again.

Mom looked up at the ceiling before she put a finger in the cup and ran it along the inside. She then brought her digit to her lips slowly as if trying to resist its lure. Her eyes closed in bliss as her finger entered her mouth as if she was tasting the most delicious ice cream.

Or her son's cream.

I hurried away with a smile before mom saw that I had witnessed her wicked act.

This single event gave me hope that all was not lost.

But the war raged on.

I had to take to wearing my headphones on Friday and Saturday nights as mom and dad would have sex in their room below me. They also were what only could be called frisky in the evenings after dad came home. Neither made any effort to conceal their affectionate activity, but I was sure mom was making it a point of doing so openly in front of me, making it obvious of whom she had chosen. Jojo would just laugh at their flirtatious attitudes while Johnny groaned and rolled his eyes at them. I just tried to ignore them.

One afternoon I came downstairs for a break from my homework. Mom was in the kitchen. I paused to look at her in her white blouse and black slacks. I felt that yearning for her that made me rise in my pants. Whatever had happened between us and whether anything ever would happen again, I didn't want my pain and loss to make me lose her as my mother.

I stepped up behind her and she didn't hear me with the water from the faucet running. I wrapped my arms around her waist innocently and gave her a firm hug.

She jerked in surprise but accepted my embrace.

"Oh! Jeremy. You startled me."

I will admit that I hadn't intended anything more than that, but my hormones pushed me further.

My dick was hard and pressed against mom's luscious butt cheeks. Semi-consciously, I rubbed it on her ass.

"Jeremy! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mom scolded me harshly over her shoulder.

"I'm just giving you a hug. You used to like that." I responded calmly.

"It feels like your cock is in my ass!"

"You used to like that too." I said as I released her and drew back a step.

Mom turned and stared at me. It wasn't anger on her face, nor was it annoyance. I had no idea what she was thinking right then and I took another step backwards. That she had said 'cock' so easily and freely to me instead of dick or penis wasn't so motherly. This was telling even though we were supposed to have a more open relationship between us.

I turned and retreated from the room while mom still stared back at me.

I had a memory vault of the things I had done with mom, or even with Aunt Jessica, but I found myself back to watching porn on the internet. But rather than the young starlets that I had once got off on, I now found myself checking out mother/son scenes.

Except for a rare few, most of the moms looked to be barely thirty while the sons appeared to be only five years or so younger than the mothers. Even with the scenes that skirted this by calling themselves step-mothers or step-sons, it was still so unbelievable. Not that that stopped me from watching. Or getting off on them.

Mom's birthday happened to fall during this period and as much as I had once looked forward to her special day, I now dreaded it. I would have to celebrate with the rest of the family and pretend to be happy for her when I only wanted to whisk her away for a romantic evening followed by a night of hot sex and lovemaking.

Something that was no longer going to happen.

It also meant that I had to get her a present.

One that would be in keeping with my being her son and not a spurned lover.

A spurned lover that hoped to win her back.

Thus I couldn't get her something that would seem petty or spiteful. Nor something cheap, but also not expensive either. Not that I had a fortune to spend anyway.

I also didn't want to ask mom what she might want me to get her, not wanting to admit that I had no clue for the woman that had meant so much to me until so recently. And knowing that she'd tell me that anything I gave her would be wonderful.

The normal motherly response.

It was a dilemma that troubled me for a few days.

It was actually dad's reconciliatory gift that gave me the solution.

I was staring at mom one afternoon. She was consciously ignoring me.

As usual.

I happened to catch a glint of the expensive bracelet on her wrist.

Then came the stab of pain for what it stood for, and the reason of why it even rested on the end of mom's arm.

I had to give her something to counter dad's, something to remind her of me and what we had had.

Of our time together.

Bingo!

We had a simple small party to celebrate the day. Only the family, Aunt Jess, Grandma Sharon, and a few of mom's closest friends. It was only a couple of hours of chitchat and catching up, followed by cake and ice cream and then the gift giving.

Mom overreacted to every gift, as if each one would be a cherished heirloom.

My sister gave mom a special collection of a small number of Jojo original colored prints.

Even signed by the artist!

Johnny's present was a slight surprise.

He'd saved money by returning cans and bottles and had bought one of those decorative plates with a stand. It had mom's name and birthdate written on it. Mom's eyes lit up when she opened the roughly wrapped gift.

Dad's was more mundane, a cookware set. Mom thanked him with a peck on the cheek, but I noticed the little resigned sigh she gave upon opening a gift that defined her by her housewife status and not as loving wife. She did also glance at her wrist like that might balance out dad's cost.

When it came to my turn, I saw that mom looked at me with some apprehension.

Did she expect me to embarrass her with my gift, to expose what we had done? Surely not.

I handed her the smallish box that caused her to give me a curious and yet, warning glance. As if she might suspect.

I just nodded to the carefully wrapped box in her hand.

She opened it as if a snake might spring forth.

The jewelry box earned me another glance. This one was all warning.

Dad also gave me a look.

I knew his was more of a question of cost.

Mom opened the black container slowly until she saw what it contained. I could almost hear her exhale in relief when she saw the simple watch inside.

"What is it honey?" Dad asked expectantly.

"A watch." Mom answered. She sounded almost a little disappointed, even after she had feared it might be some kind of expensive jewelry.

Then she noticed the small card tucked in beside it.

'To remember the time we spent together.'

Fortunately, she did not read it aloud.

This drew a quick stare from those green lasers above her cheeks!

I figured if dad could have something on her wrist to signify his possession, then so could I!

Mine just had to be more discrete.

Mom did look back down at the inexpensive timepiece, but it wasn't cheap either. She made a slight show of putting it on. On the same wrist as the diamond bracelet.

Did she realize my intent or was just innocently doing so?

She did give me a loving smile and said thank you. A smile for a son though.

After everyone was gone and we'd had dinner I approached mom with a large envelope.

"I forgot. I had a card for you too." I said simply and handed it to her.

"Thanks Jeremy." She looked quickly at me then down at the card as she pulled it out.

It was a normal card, though oversized, but I had glued a piece of paper on the inside.

Mom opened it and gasped loudly.

"Jeremy!" She nearly shouted.

I had to snicker.

I had taken a picture of my hard dick and then printed it out from my computer and stuck it into mom's card.

"Something else to remember me by." I said and gave her a kiss on the cheek before retreating upstairs.

Before I did, I did see that she didn't crumple up the card, or throw it away!

Only later did I worry about dad finding it and becoming enraged at finding a dick pic from another man in his wife's possession!

Even if he didn't realize it was a picture of his son's dick!

It was during these weeks when I was no longer rushing home from school for some illicit action with my mother that I lingered after the final bell to hang with my neglected friends.

I also noticed that an unusual number of girls would stop and chat with me.

I mean they were all girls I knew, ones that were in this or that class with me, ones that were friends of different guy friends of mine, or different ones that I had known previously. I didn't know if it was my recent absence on the school social scene that had brought on this sudden interest in me, or if I was just more at ease around girls because of my experiences with mom and Aunt Jessica that made me more comfortable around female presences. I certainly didn't recall having this many girls around before, even when I dated V, or Beth and the couple of others.

I was even pretty sure that any number of them had flirted with me.

Me!

I had never been part of the 'cool' crowd and my upswing in popularity threw me off.

No matter the reasons or causes, I played it cool with any of them, as I wasn't looking for anyone new.

One day after the rest of the group had already departed and I was putting off going home because of the pain seeing mom always brought on, even as I was trying to win her back, I was approached by a girl.

I didn't recognize her, but she must have been a fellow schoolmate. I sized her up quickly.

She was about 5 foot 6, finely curled reddish hair that hung past her shoulders, with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

She was wearing a fuzzy green short-sleeved sweater over a white long-sleeved blouse with its collar overlapping the sweater. Blue jeans and sneakers completed her outfit. She was slim with just enough curves to prove her femininity.

I was intrigued.

I had no idea what the girl might want.

"Hey." She said then cast her eyes down. She appeared nervous.

"Hey." I answered.

"I've seen you around." She glanced up at me and after a quick flick back down, her eyes stayed on mine.

"I don't think I've seen you before. You go here?"

"Four years." She answered sharply.

"Really?" I looked at her more intently, but I still had no memory of seeing her before. "You're a senior?"

Yes, I was very suave!

"Same as you." Her eyes darted aside then back to me.

Those eyes were incredible!

I was sure if I had seen them before that I would definitely have remembered them.

"You know me?" I asked cautiously.

I surely hoped she wasn't some crazy stalker type.

"I've seen you around." She repeated.

"You said that."

"I'm sorry. I'm kinda nervous." Her lips twisted charmingly.

"Nervous about what?"

I will say that looking back I could be quite clueless at times.

Maybe something I got from my father.