Chapter 3

Mom was gone from my bed when I awoke the next morning, but I when I opened my bedroom door I could hear her fussing about the kitchen. And she wasn’t alone, as I could hear Dad’s voice. I didn’t have a clear sense of what they were saying, but I had no doubt it was about me.

I was still trying to make sense of my reaction to what had happened the night before, and I didn’t feel particularly keen on the idea of telling Mom that I’d found myself feeling an aching sense of loss after she’d given me such a wonderful gift last night. Especially when I still didn’t understand why I felt that way. So rather than going straight to the kitchen to greet my parents, I decided to start by mulling things over in the shower. I usually managed to get some kind of clarity when I thought things over there, but today it didn’t seem to help much.

When I emerged from the bathroom with a towel around my loins, I was suddenly ambushed by a female body tackling into me and a pair of arms flying around my neck. “Alex!” Kazia cheered, smiling brightly. “You finally did it! You got with Mom!”

Victor was stepping up behind her, beaming at me with pride. “Welcome to the club, little brother,” he grinned, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Right,” I groaned. “The club.” I tried to will myself to share their enthusiasm, but it just wasn’t coming. In fact, I felt like their reactions were way out of step. Mom and I had sex one time, and they were acting like I’d fully committed to their alternative lifestyle. But I was more confused than ever. “I think I’ll just get dressed,” I said in a hesitant voice.

“Why? We don’t mind?” Kazia said with a salacious grin, her eyes going right to where the towel was covering my junk. And damned if I didn’t end up popping a boner right there for her to see, as if validating her forwardness.

Thankfully, Victor at least seemed to sense at least part of my uncertainty, because he tugged on Kazia’s shoulder and said, “Hey, down girl. He just lost his cherry last night, let’s give him a little space to breath.”

I gave my brother a look of subtle gratitude. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I said.

I took my time getting dressed, my mind still having trouble slowing down enough to focus on the task at hand. When I finally emerged, my family were gathered around the breakfast table and looked up at me as I entered, Dad giving me a proud grin similar to the one Victor had given me. “There’s the man of the hour!” he beamed.

“Have a seat,” Mom said, pulling out the chair right next to her. I paused, and sat down, not knowing what else to say as I slowly dished up.

“So how was it?” Kazia asked eagerly. When I didn’t answer immediately, she tilted her head and said, “What, you’re speechless? Did Mom blow your mind?”

“Don’t doubt it,” Victor said. “She blows mine most of the time.”

“I’m sure things feel different for you now,” Dad said, reaching over to pat my shoulder. “But don’t worry, you’ll adjust quick enough.” Then he raised a conspiratorial eyebrow and added, “And you know, your aunt told me last night that she’s really looking forward to getting a chance to be with you.”

Victor snorted a laugh. “You think Aunt Cassie’s looking forward to it? Sarah Jean wouldn’t shut up about him! ‘Can I fuck him yet?’ ‘Is he ready?’ ‘Do you think he’ll want me next?’ Yack yack yack!”

Kazia shot me a sultry look and purred, “Yeah, but I told her I’ve got the next spot on your dance card, don’t I?”

I just went kind of stiff, the half-eaten bit of sausage on my fork suspended in place. “Uhh...” I said dumbly.

“That’s up to him, Kazia,” Mom said firmly.

“Well, we should still get together with Cassie and Perry and the girls and discuss how he wants to proceed,” Dad said. “They will want to know—”

“Okay, everybody STOP!!!” I suddenly shouted, throwing my hands out. Everyone around the table immediately fell deathly silent, staring at me.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, creasing her brow in concern.

“Just ... this is all happening way too fast!” I blurted, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m still trying to make sense of what happened last night, I’m not ready to start assigning spots on my dance card or whatever! Just ‘cause Mom and I had sex once doesn’t mean I’ve ‘joined the club!’”

They all stared at me, agape. They looked at each other, searching to see if anyone else knew what to say. I looked down at my breakfast, and suddenly felt a lot less hungry. I set my fork down and pushed my chair back. “Excuse me,” I said, and marched away.

“Alex...!” Kazia cried in a feeble whimper. I ignored her and continued on.

I got back to my room and turned to close the door, to find Mom stepping up to my doorway with a harried look on her face. “Alex ... are you having second thoughts about what we did last night?”

“Yes,” I said in an automatic monotone. Then I thought some more about it and amended, “Maybe ... I don’t know.”

Mom’s distress visibly grew. “Did ... did I rush things with you? Was it too soon?” She reached out to rub my arm affectionately, but I pulled away, and I could see how that hurt her.

It was funny, in all the time I’d been growing up I could always depend on my Mom being the person I could go to for anything. Any time the world was scary or confusing, I always knew Mom was there for me to lean on or to talk to, and I knew she would keep me safe. Now she was at the center of what was confusing me. I couldn’t look at her the same way anymore; it had started when I had witnessed their little playtime on the night I’d come home, and then last night the coffin had finally been sealed.

And suddenly, it hit me. That was it. That was where my sad feeling of loss was coming from.

I was crying for the mother I used to know. The one who used to sing to me when I was little, who treated my scrapes when I fell off my bike, who would prepare sandwiches for my school lunches, who would talk to me about how to treat girls when I left on dates. That woman wasn’t here anymore. In a sense, she had died while I’d been asleep. This woman who stood before me now, wearing my mother’s skin? I didn’t know her. And by allowing her to seduce me last night, I had effectively signed off on the death certificate of my mom as I had known her. I had let her be dead, and accepted this stranger in her place.

I’d heard people say before that sex changes everything. Now I understood why.

“I just need some time to think, Mom,” I said, and started to close my door, giving one last sorry look at her pained and worried face before I shut it.

I’m not sure how many hours I spent sitting in my room stewing over things. There were some things I couldn’t lie to myself about: the sex with Mom had been undeniably incredible, and I couldn’t lie to myself and claim that I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of more.

And not just Mom.

I pictured my sister’s naked body when she came out of the shower that day, or when I saw her impaled on Dad’s dick at that orgy I saw, her breasts swaying and her voice howling in pleasure. I imagined myself in Dad’s place, gripping Kazia’s hips and watching my dick disappear into her wet hole. And what about the other women in the family? I pictured Aunt Cassie’s round, perky butt as she sucked Victor’s balls and Mom’s clit. I pictured Brandi’s hourglass body undulating atop her sister’s face, crying for her to suck her clit harder. I pictured Sarah Jean’s shaking breasts and her legs in the air as Uncle Perry plundered her, making her cry out for more.

And I had a wide-open invitation to have them all. I couldn’t pretend the idea wasn’t enticing.

But what would I be sacrificing if I accepted? What had I already sacrificed? Would they cease to be family to me, and become nothing more than available pussy? Did I really want that? Was it already too late? Was there nothing to do but mourn the loss of the family I had known and just accept the carnal oblivion they offered now?

Could Mom ever be a mother to me again after what we had done?

I eventually realized I needed to talk to someone about this, but I knew that Grandma wasn’t the one to do it this time. I didn’t think she’d be able to relate to what I was thinking. But there was someone in the family who might.

It was early in the afternoon when I emerged and went looking for my brother, and was grateful to find him alone in his room, working on some engine designs. I hesitantly knocked on his open door, and he looked up from his laptop and took off his blue-light glasses. “Hey, little bro,” he said, his brow creasing slightly in concern.

“Hey Vic,” I said heavily. “Can we talk for a minute.”