Chapter 2

Over the next two years I kept Andrew from using me indiscriminately, by changing my morning routines. If I didn’t sleep in and busied myself outside, Andrew was too shy to bother me. Which meant, I went to bed earlier and exhausted. My marital sex life suffered, but I only jacked off my son six times over those two years. I’m not sure the trade-off was worth it. I wanted my husband’s love, but to get the hot sex I craved, I had to disrupt his work at home more frequently. He grew irritable.

“Ingrid, darling, you used to save it for bedtime. Can’t you wait?”

If I waited, I’d be too tired to bone my big man. “Nooo.” I whined.

He capitulated that day, but starting the following week, he worked one less day at home and one more at his office. It actually helped smooth over our mutual overfamiliarity.

Andrew caught me at home during one of those extra days his father worked away. I hadn’t adapted my routine quickly enough to keep a safe distance.

I’d picked him up from school, and upon entering our otherwise unoccupied home, Andrew stripped naked. I failed to notice, as I immediately went to the kitchen to put away a few groceries. His hand surprised me, by pulling my hand off of a package of turkey legs and placing it on his horny leg.

“I learned a new trick, Mommy.” He grinned. “I wanted to show you ages ago, but Daddy was always in the way.”

“It’s wrong to play tricks, Andy.” I rebuked, but my hand accepted his gift. He immediately began humping his hard little prick through my reluctant fingers. His other hand grabbed my other hand and brought it to his chest. “Pinch my nipples, Mommy.”

I had decided a year ago, if I could get my son off quickly I didn’t stress over it as much. The difference was slight but perceptible. I hated myself afterwards. I pinched the dark bump on my son’s chest. He winced happily. “Oooo, I knew it would be better if I used your hand.”

“Mommy doesn’t like being used, Andy. You know that. You know I’m going to make you do all of the chores tonight.”

“Mmmmm, I don’t care Mommy. I’d use you every day if I could.”

The marble of warmth in my groin grew an extra size upon hearing that. If only my husband would use me that much! My mind tormented me, “You don’t deserve the love of a good man.” That horrid voice would haunt me for days after getting used by my son.

He bucked his prick back and forth. I helped by jacking my son at his steady pace. He moved my hand to his other, even harder nipple. I pinched and he winced. “Soooo goood, Mommy!”

“Ooohhh,” He moaned and bucked harder. “I’m going to surprise you again, Mommy.” His hips thrust sturdy, boy prick into my eager grip. Then he shuddered from head to toe, I knew it was a strong orgasm. I wished I could feel-

Hot spunk spat out of my son’s incestuous cock, coating my palm and wrist. I let go, as it if burned my skin. “Oh, GODS, you CAME ON MOMMY!” I yelled and jumped back.

The one spurt didn’t amount to more than a large raindrop, but my heart raced to flee his storm. “Get away from me!” I yelled at him.

“Ain’t it neat, Mom?” My son glowed from pride. “I can make babies!”

A week later, Asshat, the head librarian, my boss, asked me to resign. “You’re damnably hit and miss, Ingrid.” He scowled with all the crags and crannies of a man at the age of retirement. “Most days you work just fine, well, tolerable. But you messed up two orders this week, worse than what you did a couple months ago.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vertus. I’m not perfect. My home life-”

“Don’t give excuses. Give me two wheeeeks notice,” Asshat wheezed. “And spend those two weeks training Claire. She may not be as precise, but she’s more reliable.” He wanted me to hate my henchling and mis-train her. So he could fire her too. Asshat wanted the library to himself on the day he retired. That was the story Claire and I had made up.

“I’ll do better, Mr. Vertus.” I vowed.

“You said that three months ago.”

I asked him for a couple vacation days, my first actual vacation in years. “I’m going to my mother’s, to get some perspective.” I told him. I told my husband the same that night.

“What’s to get, Honey? Your boss is an asshat.” Garrick worried. I’d never said that to him. Had Claire?

“Can I come, Mommy?” Andy piped up. Yes, he could, right on Mommy’s hand.

“No, Sweetheart, you help Dad.”

Our son glanced suspiciously at his father. “I dunno. Pop’s takes care of himself better than okay.”

I witnessed Garrick soak up the compliment. “Andy, Mommy needs time by herself.”

“Awww, I wanna see Grandma.” He wanted to get sick from the cookies and other treats she loved to shove down her grandchild’s neck.

I packed the equivalent of two overnight bags. Garrick dropped me off at the intercity, direct bus stop. I’d bought tickets the night before, online. Andrew said, “Bye.” He didn’t look happy.

“I’ll be home in a couple days, Andy.” By then I would have figured out new ways to escape his special attentions. I kissed my husband on the lips, pressing hard to prove how much Andy’s mom loved his dad.

“Wow!” Garrick smiled. He drove slowly away. I waved.

The trip to the next big city took five hours. I took advantage of the wifi, to catch up on cat videos. Five hours later, the other passengers wanted to kick me off. I cooed and giggled the entire trip.

Mother couldn’t drive, due to a round of medications she was taking. Her neighbor and good friend, Mrs. Lila Aggis, hailed me at the drop off point. I thanked her. “Did you wait long?”

“Yes.” Lila sighed. That was strange. The bus had arrived five minutes ahead of schedule. She shook her head and perked up. “I’m mean, not really. I had to fetch something for Eric. He’ll be mad that I waited for you, but that’s nothing I haven’t endured before. She forced herself to smile. “How was your trip?

We nattered until we reached her and Mom’s street. I thanked her again and lugged my bags to the house. Mom had heard the car pull up.

“2015, twin valve, 2 liter, Korean engines purr like horny old cats, but I would know it was Lila’s import from the sound of its mismatched tires.” Mom greeted me. She was a small but brilliant and successful, third generation mechanic. We hugged and I managed a smile. I realized her head didn’t quite reach my bra line. Andrew had finally grown taller than her.

“I love you, Mom.” I acknowledged her knitted cap, with a glance. Mom didn’t have cancer, but she took the same drugs. The doctors had assured her, one round of treatment would knock the CD, is what they called it, right out of her system. They had caught it early and success was certain.

“You better. Who’s going to take care of me when my spark plugs fizzle?” She smiled back and lead me upstairs to my old room.

I took over the house starting with dinner. Mom didn’t like to go out. She wasn’t afraid to be seen, bald or wearing her cap, but the drugs tired her. She would never accept looking frail. I cooked, cleared, and cleaned. Mom set me to full work after dinner. She supervised. I obeyed. By the time I plopped in bed, the house sparkled.

I called Garrick from the privacy of my old bedroom. I had already informed him of my safe arrival. Andrew answered first. “I took the phone outside. So we could talk.”

“Let me talk with your father.” I sighed. I didn’t have the energy to deal with my son, not even enough to hang up. My main reason for this vacation was to escape him.

“I’m thinking of you, Mom. I remember how good your hand feels.” He was jacking off in the dark of our backyard. “Tell me something nasty.”

“Andrew Muldurhoek,” I cried, tears close. “Let me talk with your father!”

“I want you to come back, Mom. I want your hand. I learned some new stuff, and I need to try it all out.” He huffed and puffed. I could only imagine him thinking about those new, and likely terrible things he wanted to try with me.

“I’m going to hand up.” I misspoke.

“I want your hand, Mommy. I want your hand up and down, over and over. Hand me, Mommy. Gimme your hand real good! Oooohhhh.” He blew all of his breath into the mouthpiece, from the fastest orgasm I’d witnessed from him. “It came out again, Mom. I wish it had come on you. Come home soon.” He zipped up his pants and carried the phone inside, to his father.

“Hi, Honey. What can I do you?”

“Ugh!” I grunted in disgust. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Tap!

The next morning, Andrew woke me up. “Ingrid.” He shook my comforter covered shoulder. “I want to use you again.” His words struck like a switch! I flinched away from his hand and my eyes shot open wide.

“Oh, Mom!” I yelped. I let go of a huge breath. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Lordy - Mercy,” My mom chuckled. “What’s got you in a stitch?”

“Bad dream.” That usually worked.

Do I need to crawl in there with you, to make it better? She kidded.

“Ohhh.” I fumed. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll come down and make breakfast.”

She explained herself while eating eggs and toast. “I could use some help in the yard.”

I had visited for perspective. It landed in my lap like a naughty child. Mother was going to keep me at her beck and call during my entire stay. This was normal. How could I have forgotten that? Mom had raised me to be a workhorse. It was great conditioning for a future librarian, but a terrible one for a woman desperate to take charge of her life from a young man who had inherited my mother’s willpower.

“If only you had brought your man and boy. We could replant the whole yard.” Mom observed with a slight grin. She was more serious than her raised lips indicated.