"Richard, we need to talk. Right now, before your sisters get home from School; do you hear me?"
Oh shit, I could smell trouble. With a fucking big T!
"Right there, Mom, I'll be there in one minute." There was no way to escape it; somehow she had found out. Still, I was holding our family together and banking enough to send my sisters to University, and I had cleared up our near Bankruptcy because of our drunken father, a pedestrian crossing, and an old lady who had the green light, and no excuses. He blew 0.210, and he shot himself at the scene.
"O.K. what's the problem?" I thought the best defence is to attack; so, I did.
"Richard, do you have a job?" The opening salvo, good start, Mom!
"Mom, I've been trying to keep this roof over our heads since Dad died. Suicide meant there was no insurance payable to us. You and the girls maxed out all our Credit Cards; the Line-of-Credit was deep in the red, no Mortgage Payments, and no food in the house. So it was up to me to straighten things out. OK with that, Mom?"
She sat down abruptly. Nearly missed the chair. "B-B-But — I was working, wasn't I?"
"No, you weren't! You were in a daze; you hadn't bathed for more than a week, they fired you. So, I took over; I had to get money. Quickly!
"Mom, listen to me; I paid off the Credit Cards, the ones you never stopped using. I updated the Mortgage, and paid down the balance, we'll be free of that millstone around my neck by this time next year. Did you check the deep freeze in the Basement? That's a prime Angus Triple A side in there, with the pig, and the Pizzas, and the chickens. No complaints with the Turkey at Christmas, eh?"
"All that from Yard Work, cutting grass, and weeding flower beds? I think not. What else do you do?"
"What else? Simple, Mom, I fuck women for money. You know Rachael Johansen, in fifty-three; she needed some plumbing work in her en-suite, easy! She was standing over me, I'm under the sink, and I looked up, and I could see her cunt; no undies, Mom, and she wanted me to fuck her, and how much was it? So I said $450.00 a fuck, and we did it right there, she rode me, and she came three times, and she asked if I could do her once a week, when I cut the grass, and then I said for a regular I'd only charge her for the one fuck a week; $450.00. Then she wanted to know if I would cornhole her, and so I said yes, for five hundred, and she said yes. And she ran and got the lube, so I did. Mom, the word got around and I was swamped. I ended up with just about all my girlfriend's mothers, and the girlfriends as well."
"What about your sisters, are you fucking them?"
"Go on, Mom, I would love to fuck them, but they are only thirteen and fourteen years old. I think I will hurt them if I fuck them now. Maybe in a year or two; they are very beautiful, just like you, Mom, just like you."
"Well, that's a relief—but they know about your Gigolo job, and they want you to fuck them too."
"Want me too, what gives with the too, Mom?"
"Me, I can't help it—I need a good hard fuck as much as they do. I've thirty dollars in my purse. What'll that get me? I'll do anything for a really good fuck." She started to cry, no, she sobbed. "Oh, I feel so ashamed. I was going to blackmail you into a fuck. Aren't I a piece of shit!?"