Chapter 1

My mother was divorced at the time. We lived in a small cape in a quiet neighborhood. Nothing fancy. We didn’t even have a garage. Mom worked hard so she was able to make ends meet. Nothing exciting or unusual ever happens around our house. Well, that was pretty much true until that pivotal day in my life forty-six years ago. I was seventeen, and I will never forget that day.

There was a teacher’s conference, and we were released two hours early. I walked into the house after the early release from school as I usually would. I heard the 8mm projector whirring, so I walked toward the Den. My forty-year-old mother was sitting in the dark. At first, I thought she was watching our home movies. But she wasn’t; she was watching pornography.

Mom was sitting in her desk chair with her slacks and underwear halfway down around her thighs. She had her hand between her legs as she watched the black and white film of a woman with a broom in her hand dressed as if she had just come into the room to clean and caught a guy jerking off. The woman sucked his cock and had sex with him. Mom seemed really into it and must not have heard or seen me come into the house. I watched in astonishment as that 8mm film clip finished and another one started. She watched until the guy, still wearing his socks, shirt, and tie, was licking the woman’s pussy. Mom’s head bent back, and her hips bucked as her left hand went to her breasts and squeezed.

I decided that was a good time to leave. I went back outside and waited for ten minutes. Then came in again, yelling, “Hey, Mom, I’m home. We got out early.”

Mom came out of the Den. “For God’s sake, Ray, I’m not deaf. What are you doing home so early?

“Teacher’s conference.” I handed Mom the school bulletin.

Mom scanned the bulletin and frowned, “Damn, another PTA meeting. You hungry. Ray?”

“Nah. I’m going up to my room to lie down for a few before I start my homework.” What I really had to do was think about what I saw Mom doing in the Den. I didn’t think my mother even thought about sex anymore, never mind watching pornography and masturbating. As far as I was concerned, only guys watched pornography.

I was not naive, and I knew my Mom and dad had sex. I was conceived and born, wasn’t I? And I used to hear them. They were rather loud at times.

I thought about my mom’s situation. Separated from my dad four years ago, forty years old, raising a seventeen-year-old kid, working second shift to make that extra dollar an hour, taking care of the house, cooking, PTA meetings, the list goes on and on. Even though she did not trust my father or wanted to see him again, she kept her married name of Grant for my sake. I finally came to the conclusion that now that Dad had abandoned us, masturbating was all she had time for, with a bit of pornography to help her along—nothing I have not done but without the help of a stag film. I had to smile as I realized Ellen Grant has urges just like the rest of the world.

A couple of hours later, Mom called me. “Do you want me to fix you anything to eat before I leave for work?”

“No thanks, Mom. I will make my own dinner.”