Chapter 2

Carol had the longest drive to Holly’s home, longer if you counted picking up her boys from separate schools. She felt oddly trepidatious about today’s get-together, driving slower than normal and giving the finger to other drivers less often. Oscar and Jeffery bantered while their mom contemplated her behavior the day before.

“I think I dig a girl in my English class.” Oscar tried to impress his brother. “She’s into old-school metal and Fortnite.”

“Fortnight is getting tired. You should try Valheim. That’s punk.”

“Hah, Valheim is just Minecraft with better bricks.” Oscar countered.

Jeffery persisted. “I’m telling you, it’s a whole other experience!”

“You just don’t have a girl you want to ask out.” The younger boy cut deep.

“I’ve dated hotter, real chicks than those wifus you pretend with, but you can’t soil a tissue if your life depended upon it.” Jeffery played his ace card, his brother’s delayed puberty.

“Not today, guys!” Carol demanded. “Change the subject, NOW.”

Her sons quieted. She had put them in the back seat together to prevent them from fighting over who got shotgun. Sometimes she regretted it.

Oscar wanted to show that he was ready to get serious with girls. “You’ll see. Gwen is a real sweetie. I’m going to ask her out tomorrow.”

“Well, I wish you luck, Brother.” Jeffery could be gracious when his mother was present.

“So.” Carol took advantage of the moment when the hurricane’s center passed over her boys. “Do you remember what we talked about our guests yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah, Mom.” Jeffery droned. “About why you all got goofy, and I had to pull the plug on your game?” He hadn’t so much as pulled it as tripped over it. He hadn’t been feeling his usual age advantage over the boys.

“What did I say about today?”

“Don’t talk about yesterday.” Oscar remembered taking Ms. Michaels into the closet and kissing her. It was real exciting, better than the two girls he had actually kissed before yesterday. Oscar had wanted to do more, but his brother triggered the end game before he was ready.

“Yeah, what was it with you and Arnold and Race? Fricking Cowboys and Indians?”

Oscar shrugged. “It was just a game. You’re just jealous because you didn’t get to kiss one of their moms.”

“You were acting and talking like a five year old!”

“More like ten.” Their mother cut in with her estimate.

“And you had your ti- er, boob out, Mom.”

“Sue me. Should I apologize again?”

“Ignore him, Mom.” Oscar defended. “Why is he even coming? He’s not really part of The Experiment.” The boy used capital letters to play up the current special attention to his condition. Oscar hated being reminded that he couldn’t cum yet. He comforted himself with the thought, “But when I do! Wow!” His outsized testicles supposedly would produce twice as much semen. He didn’t want to admit that he had acted childishly, but privately, Oscar had enjoyed the feeling of being a dumb kid again.

“I didn’t want to get dragged into Mom’s lame ‘talks’ either.” Jeffery was actually proud that his mom had recognized his ‘heroic effort’ to stop their shenanigans yesterday. She wanted him around as a safeguard. High school boys live for that kind of validation. And maybe one of the other moms might show a boob, he hoped. Neither were as endowed as his mom, but Holly and Jean had plenty hanging from their racks.

Girls and video games. Carol’s sons returned to the only two subjects they seemed to care about. Driving half way across the city, she had to intervene twice to stop random escalation of taunts. Typical.

Jean and Race arrived at Holly’s place, before the Hughes’.

“Don’t ring the bell yet, Mom, please?” Race had cold feet. After yesterday’s circus, his mother had sat him down and explained what happened wasn’t his fault. He accepted her forgiveness, on the surface, but having groped his mother’s pussy, guilt had sunk deep. The worst was remembering how it felt to be as playful and free as a child again. He was a freshman, and the twin stresses of earning peer approval and preparing for college gnawed at his confidence.

Actually, Race fit in well with other ninth graders. He earned high scores and had started to make friends. However, he couldn’t risk them finding out he had played Cowboys and Indians like an elementary school kid. He would have absolutely died if his classmates knew about his delayed sperm production.

Jean watched her son’s internal conflict. She had explained yesterday’s silliness as generously as possible. He wasn’t broken or weird. She even confessed that what he’d done had impressed her somewhat, for having been so bold. She told herself, tomorrow she would discuss the importance of consent. Jean blamed herself for letting Race get as far as he had between her legs. It hadn’t amounted to anything more embarrassing than a few fingers brushing her pubes. Having not said anything and not escaping, could be misinterpreted as consent, but she knew the moment had been a highly subjective moment between good touch / bad touch.

Jean put on a grin and reached for the doorbell, to tease Race back to reality.

“Mom!” Race grabbed her arm.

“Are we turning around and driving home?” The possibility didn’t depress Jean.

“No.” The young man scrunched his lips to one side. “I just want to ask, what would have happened -- if Jeffery hadn’t broken the spell?” It had felt like playing under a magical aura.

Jean wanted to answer, In your wet-dreams, Son. After quelling the urge, she told him, “I would be the one responsible not you.” She tapped his shoulder. “It’s not going to happen again.” She assured him.

Race nodded and rang the bell for her.

“About time.” Holly answered the door a little too quickly. “I was afraid you two were going to drive back home.”

“Watching us through the curtain?” Jean stepped inside, Race following.

“My stoop. My privilege.” Holly shut the door behind them and led them to the living room couch. She had brought in chairs from the kitchen, and her coffee table was laden with pastries, nuts, sliced fruit, and cookies. A tall pot of coffee rested on its heated base. She poured a cup for Jean and asked Race, “Want some?”

“Um, okay.” The teen had tried coffee, didn’t hate it. He guessed that all adults felt same way about coffee. It was a useful drug. He wanted to keep his wits sharp, to avoid falling into yesterday’s trap.

Arnold entered the living room from down a flight of stairs. “Hi, Race.” He would have said more, except he was fighting embarrassment about the way he and the other boys had acted.

“Hey, Arnold.”

“Hello.” Jean greeted him.

“Ms. Peralta.” Arnold nodded at her. “Mom, can I have some coffee?”

“I thought you didn’t like the taste.”

“Maybe I’ll learn to.” He’d overheard Race accept his mother’s offer of coffee. He sat on a kitchen chair, and Holly poured a cup for him after serving Race.

Holly and Jean were quick to talk about the latest gossip posted to the forum, boring stuff about why so many members were shy about participating in the website’s social discourse. Race and Arnold discussed the latest Switch games.

By the time food on the coffee table had shrank by a third, the Hughes arrived. Carol, Jeffery, and Oscar joined in with equally guarded behavior. Jeffery was happy to get hot chocolate instead of nasty tasting coffee. He mostly watched the women, wondering what had caused yesterday’s mayhem. When one of the younger teens asked a question, he was slow to respond and answered curtly. They tended to exclude him for the same reason he felt superior to them. Jeffery was seventeen, two years older than Arnold the oldest boy.

The three moms felt like they were going through the motions of communing. While one of them talked, the other two discretely studied their son’s behavior. While talking, each felt like they were holding back. It was an uncomfortable first hour. Their talks were typically quite lively.

Holly took her responsibility as a host, seriously. She jumped up from her chair and howled like a coyote. “What the fuuuuuuu!!” She stepped up onto her seat and swung an accusing finger between her friends. “This is shit, Bitches!”

The three youngest boys gabbing on the couch froze. Jeffery’s jaw opened at Ms. Michaels’ last swear.

“Take it off!” Carol suddenly hooted at Holly. Holly was right. They had been talking poo.

Jean set down her coffee and shared a high five with Carol. “Bitches got busted.”

Holly didn’t pull up her top, but she did wriggle her hips to silent music. Her pleated, purple skirt brushed against the back of her chair. She stuck out her tongue at the boys. “Arnold, take your Nut Mates out back to talk or play or give each other hand jobs. Us ladies need to smoke weed and burn our bras.

Jeffery’s jaw slackened further. He thought their private name for themselves was a secret. Even though he didn’t have huge balls, the other boys had granted him special dispensation to be a Nut Mate.

Arnold gulped at his mother’s display but wasn’t shocked. He’d seen worse, individual acts from all of the women during their ‘Ball Boys Bitching.’ Like mother’s, like sons. He shrugged and lead the boys outside.

“Mom?” Jeffery asked after getting up to follow. He paused, having been tasked to keep an eyes on their shenanigans.

Carol waved him away. “It’s not like we’re going to have an orgy.”

“What?” Jean looked suspiciously at her forum sisters. “Not one of us is a part-time dyke?”

An unexpected snort burst from Jeffery’s left nostril. He went outside with the other boys.

When the glass, back door shut, the women quieted in chorus. A heavy silence descended. Holly stepped down from her chair and sat.

“Oscar’s a good kisser, Carol.” Holly unexpectedly confessed.

Carol felt a weight topple from her fears. “I WANTED Arnold to suck my oozing nipple.”

“I fucking orgasmed.” Jean huffed.

“I-is anyone else a little turned on, right now?” Carol dared to ask but hedged. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the biggest titted slut of the three of us.”

“You meant, biggest slut, right?” Jean teased.

“That too.”

“Could the boys have affected us again?” Holly asked.

“They weren’t acting like children, this time.” Jean observed.

“Girls, I asked my question first.” Carol disrupted the more pertinate discussion.

Jean glanced at Holly. When Holly’s eyes met hers, the two women saw it. They were a little turned on, but each knew that Carol was soft pedaling her level of arousal.

“If this keeps happening, one or both of you is going to call the cops on me for molesting your boys.”

“We’ll have to stop meeting.” Holly felt tears form under her eyes.

“We just don’t bring the boys.” Jean stated the obvious.

“We can try that next week.” Holly felt a little better but didn’t like the idea.

“I’ll host. I can send Jeffery with Oscar to a movie.” Carol offered.

“It’s my turn.” Jean asserted.

“You can’t send Race out to fend for himself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to lock him in his room.” Holly asserted.

“He’s just one boy.” Jean hoped aloud. “Maybe it takes all three of them to mess with our libidos.”

“We can try meeting with just one boy present.” Carol relented.

The back door slid open and shut. Race had stealthed in, eyes darting about. His mother challenged him. “We’re talking here, Race.”

“We’re playing hide and seek. Maybe Jeffery won’t look in here.” His young eyes shined a plea to let him stay.

“Uh,” Holly blinked. “I’ll hide you.” She got up and took her son’s arm. “The shower stall in my bedroom should do the trick.” Holly escorted her son up the stairs.

Several minutes later, the back door opened again. Jeffery entered the living room, looking oddly reserved. “Did Arnold come inside?”

Carol looked at Holly’s empty seat and bit her lip. “No, Son. Now go back outside.” Her son left without pressing the matter. Jeffery was usually more persistant. When Holly didn’t immediately return, the two women stood up and climbed the stairs.

Holly shut her bathroom door while her son hid in the shower stall. She had shut herself in with him, leaving the shower door open between them. “Arnold, were you really going to suck on Carol’s breast, yesterday?”

“Mommy!” He blushed at the memory.

“It’s okay if you wanted to. Heck, I was kissing Oscar. That’s just as bad.” After the incident she told her son that he shouldn’t blame himself. They had been playing a silly game which had gotten out of hand. That’s all. There was nothing to forgive except themselves, and the event was a learning moment for both all involved. She had poured bullshit on top of bullshit to help her son feel better about their laspses in judgement.

Holly didn’t recognize the urge within her as she stepped into the stall with her son and began to unbutton her blouse. “If this is what’s required to convince you...”

“MOMMY?” Arnold gasped! “You’re taking off your clothes.” He said it as if it was a secret between them. His peter lurched in his pants as blood engorged it.

“Just my top, Honey.” Holly unfastened the last button and spread her top open. She was wearing a C-cup, violet tinged bra with a tiny bluebird embroidered on the strap between her breasts. “I want to prove that I wouldn’t blame you for sucking a tit.” Her mind had decided that her breasts would make the best example.

She reached behind her back and deftly unhooked the back-strap of her cute bra. “Are you afraid, Arnold?”

The boy had been shocked when Ms. Hughes offered her milk oozing tit to him, but the experience hadn’t prepared him for when his mother shrugged off her bra and presented her beautiful breasts within the starkly lit interior of a shower stall. “N-n-no, Mommy.” His voice broke into a higher register. His legs quivered.

She wasn’t much taller than her fifteen year old son, but to reduce her presence, Holly bent her knees until they touched the hard plastic floor. She looked up and lifted both of her boobs to him. “You can suck on Mommy’s titties. Would you like that? Mommy wants you to.”

Arnold was captivated. His mother’s firm breasts were youthful mounds that added sexy curves to her fairly slim body, slightly wider than her hips. Her areolae weren’t especially dark, but against her fair skin, they contrasted nicely. Arnold watched the tips of her nipples harden.