Chapter 1

“What the fuck? You’re kidding me, right?” I scoffed at the offer, “I mean, you do realize that you can’t just ... put up my MOTHER for fucking collateral, right?”

Mom’s latest boyfriend, well, he had never been much of a prize, but damn! Ever since Mom caught Dad cheating on her years back and kicked him out of the house, things had gone downhill. It was as if somehow, that was the last big stand that Mom could ever take against any man, the hill that she chose to die on, and that was it. After that point, Mom took things from other men, abuse, whatever, that she would never have taken from Dad or anyone else in the past.

Dylan was a case in point, the worst of a long line of serially monogamous dickheads. He was supposed to be some kind of Christian, too, which was a joke. I never had much use for that faith and even less so after knowing pricks like Dylan. Mom would simply say that at least he didn’t cheat on her, at least as far as she knew. Somehow, that was the bar, that was the rule of thumb. You could treat Mom like crap, as long as you were either faithful or smart enough not to get caught. Dad was neither, so he ended up moving in with a series of girlfriends, but that was another story.

Hell, yes, I blamed Christianity on this, even if Dylan and Mom bent the rules enough to shack up and have premarital sex without so much as a question popped yet. I was disgusted by Mom’s belief that what mattered most was fidelity. Don’t get me wrong ... Mom could be a royal cunt, too, but not to the men in her life. Just to the rest of us in her family (if one wanted to stretch the definition to include every prick who ever got into her pants).

Mom could also be a bit of a hypocrite about fidelity, having cheated on the past couple of boyfriends with the next one. She justified it by saying that she was leaving them, anyway, but still ... yeah, it was hypocrisy and a double standard, plain and simple. She might have her good side, most mothers do, right, but lately, that was harder to find. A clear example of this was her idea to hold the poker game at MY place, so that her even more self-righteous church friends didn’t learn of it. Ugh.

“Why not? If someone wins her and uses her, I’m not taking her back. So, no skin off my back,” Dylan smirked under his thick blonde mustache.

“And don’t you think that Mom has some say in this? It’s her fucking body, okay? Mom, I know that you let this scumbag walk all over you all of the motherfucking time, but really? Are you gonna take this lying down? It’s insane!” I snapped at Mom as well as Dylan.

“Why do you care? You got ladies up the ass who think that the Sun rises and shines from it!” Mom turned on me with unexpected vitriol, “don’t even try to claim that you don’t resent me, anyway, because you’ve ALWAYS resented me! What do you care what happens to me?”

“Mom, it’s true. I’m a lecher. I’m a horndog. It’s also true that I resent you. And I think that you were royally stupid for leaving Dad for the very same thing that you’ve done! Cheating, I mean! Saying that you’re leaving the guy, maybe, maybe not, but if you haven’t told the hapless guy being dumped and cheated on, it’s STILL fucking CHEATING!

“And I stopped cheating after Tiffany here, because I never make false promises to anyone, male or female, anymore. Oh, yes, Mom, I don’t just fuck girls. I fuck guys, too. And I do mean FUCK them. I’m the Top. They’re the bottoms!” I retorted, shaking Mom up a little now.

“Look, I’m grateful for you sticking up for me, son, but I’m going ahead with this. If Dylan thinks so little of me that he’ll bet me, he can take the consequences and count himself lucky that I don’t just dump his sorry ass right now. See, at least you’ve given me something of a backbone there, however soft it might be, dear,” Mom assured me, even stroking my chin for some reason.

“Alright, then, are we doing this?” Steve Ganon asked us now, being rather lustful and eager to possibly have Mom for himself, maybe even for good.

Well, Mom is a cutie, when she’s not being a class A cunt, of course. Still, there was a real problem here. She was my fucking MOTHER! I couldn’t bet on her, could I?

“Too rich for my blood. I’m not gonna take a bet on my own damn mother!” I folded.

“No, don’t. Bruce ... stay in the game,” Mom urged me to reconsider.

“You’ll back out as collateral, then?” I encouraged her to withdraw her offer.

“Nope. You’ll just have to hope that you lose. Otherwise, you might turn into a literal, actual motherfucker, might you not? Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Mom coaxed me, against all of my own better judgement, to rejoin the poker game.

“Oh, okay. Hopefully, my losing streak continues, anyway. Let’s hope that it holds one night longer before it ends. Mom, you deal. It’s only fair, since this is your ass on the line here,” I told the other folks present, my own guests, who all watched, slack-jawed, as I bet on my own mother’s flesh.

“Okay, fresh deck, here we go. Bruce, Dylan, Shawn, Steve, Tiffany, Karen, and Dick. I don’t even fucking know what I’ll do if one of you ladies wins me, especially with one of you single and the other one married. I don’t know which prospect scares me more,” Mom confessed now.

“Not too late to back out, you know,” Tiffany observed, being the single one ... and my sometimes girlfriend, no less.

Karen was her mother and Dick’s wife, just to be clear.

“No, I suppose that if you’re good enough to fuck my son a few times, you’re good enough for me, too,” Mom winked at both of us to my shock.

Maybe there really IS something to tequila. Mom certainly had more than her share of it by now, enough that she would need a fucking ride home at the very least. She definitely wasn’t the usual, priggish Melanie aka Mom.

“I like that logic. Hey, Bruce, you know, other than your constant cheating on me, and my constant insane jealousy, we made a great couple, didn’t we?” Tiffany asked me, “maybe it will work out better with your mother. You both have certain very attractive traits. What would do you if your ex-girlfriend became your OTHER stepmommy?”

“Well, I’d start by shouting at you, ‘YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER!’ or not my Dad. Something like that,” I teased my ex-girlfriend, who snickered at that.