Chapter 7

Arnold let an entire day slip away after constructing the ‘gift’ for his mother. Like Oscar’s it was a flower in a vase. They had bravely wanked off in each other’s presence and caught their ejaculations in the mason jars their mothers had provided. Excited by the chance that they might be able to seduce their moms, both boys drew more than their typical, small samples from their aroused peters. Each sample was also thicker than usual, but the difference was barely noticable. They mixed their cum in one of the jars and then applied the cooling goo upon Oscar’s rose and Arnold’s tulip.

Arnold presented the tulip to his mom, Holly, a day later. Guilt over what he was about to do, stifled his ardor for a whole day. What if she found out, or asked questions, or what if it worked too well, and his mother turned into a monster? He didn’t sleep that night, but around sunrise, he got a text from Oscar that contained a single emojii, the one with the largest smile! He slept through breakfast. His mother wasn’t a stickler for meals. She kept only healthy food at home and never worried if he snacked. When Arnold woke, he was too excited to eat. He scurried around the house, eventually finding her in the utility room.

“For me?” Holly squinted at the crudely crafted gift. A harsh swishiing and a deep thrumming sounded from washer and dryer.

“Yeah, Mom.” Arnold scratched his head and looked around. “The utility room could use a little something when we do the laundry.” His mom always made him participate in house chores, but she rarely made him work alone.

“There’s no place to put it.” The room was small, just big enough for a washer a dryer and little space for folding.

“I’ll set it on the shelf, by the iron.” Unlike most house moms, Holly used unscented detergents. The room had a stale tang as air circulated slowly here. He let her sniff the fabric tulip and placed the vase carefully, closest to where they folded laundry. His mother looked unexpectedly sexy in her old housedress, like it was begging to be ripped off of her body. He peeked at her chest to see if she was wearing a bra. She often didn’t. Hers were small enough to let hang as nature intended.

“Eyes up, Scalawag.” Holly glared.

“Sorry, Mom. I was thinking about something.”

“Sure, two somethings.” She snorted. Holly switched off the dryer. She bent over and dragged out one dry thing after another, pausing to test how ‘done’ each was. Arnold began folding them while he enjoyed the fullness of his mother’s simple, blue skirt. He asked, “Scalawag, huh? Does that mean I’m a pirate?”

“Please.” His mother rolled her eyes. She hung up a slightly damp towel on a line over the washer and dryer. “Don’t even make with the booty jokes.” Holly continued to regret her actions at the doctor’s office. Ever since then, she had shot down the slightest sexual suggestion.

Arnold wasn’t dissuaded, folding one of his pairs of jeans and putting it in the basket for his room. “The doctor sure has some booty, right?” He chortled.

A snort of a laugh escaped his mother’s nose. “Arnold.” She warned but couldn’t refute her memory of Race pawing at Doctor Vassarkik’s butt.

“I’m not Arnold.” He straightened, holding a black pair of his mother’s panties across one eye and around his head. “I’m the dreaded, Pirate Michaels! Arrr!!”

Holly blushed and shook her head. “Put that away.” She fished a couple socks from the dryer, the last of that load. She muttered, “At least you didn’t sniff them.” A check of the washer showed it had a few minutes left to run. Holly turned to her son and snatched the panties from his face. “I’m the captain of this ship. You’re just the cabin boy.” She folded them and set them in her basket.

Arnold stood at attention and saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Mom.”

His mother sighed. She observed him as she would a younger boy, with greater tolerance and forgiveness. Maybe she was a little harsh on herself and on her son. She had fucked up royally at the doctor’s office, sacrificing her friend’s son instead of her own. She wished she could make it up to Jean and Race. Maybe she could in the future, but for now she looked at her son, and couldn’t deny his bright eyes and cheerfulness. She pointed at the stack of clothes he’d folded. “That’s a job well done, Sailor. I’m promoting you to midshipman.”

Bepuzzlement crossed her son’s face, and his stiff posture sank a bit. “Huh?”

“That’s the lowest of the low, for officers.” Holly had loved reading naval romances in college. “Your job is to do and learn.”

“I gotta do my homework?” Arnold’s cheer deflated further. His mother took no little amusement at his drooping expression. She barked, “Not until after your watch, Michaels.”

What watch? He shrugged wordless. How could he measure time without a watch? or his mom’s phone?

His mother pointed to porthole of their front loaded washing machine. Soapy water sloshed about as its drum churned the clothes within. “Scan the seas for threats and opportunities.” She left him in the utility room while she fetched herself a cup of coffee.

Returning, she found her son wearing a silly grin and another thing. He had taken her black panties and put them on his head, with the crotch panel covering his right eye. “Captain Mom, there’s a big boat out there.” He pointed at the washer’s transparent hatch.

“How big?” She sipped too hot of coffee and licked her lips. “How many guns?” She rested her mug next to the flowering vase.

“It must have dozens and dozens, Momma?” He frowned. “What’ll we do?”

“If it’s that big and heavy with cannon, we should be able to outrun it.” She crossed her arms over her fair chest.

“What if it’s loaded with treasure?” Arnold’s excitement returned.

“Then we should attack and seize the treasure!” Holly pronounced. “But it won’t be easy. Good pirates will probably be killed.”

“I’m not afraid.” The boy glared at the ‘porthole.’

“Then a fight we’ll have, ARRR!” Holly reached for her coffee but her hand picked up the vase instead. To hide her mistake, she sniffed the flower and set it rattling on top of the running washing machine. She licked a finger and raised it as if checking the wind. “Full sail, hard aport!” She called out to an imaginary helmsman. “We’ll approach with them at our lee.”

Arnold didn’t understand what his mother was talking about, but it didn’t matter. It sounded dramatic and fun. “Aye, aye, Captain!” Just then the washing machine entered its spin cycle. The drum revved up a loud whirring. “I’ll man the cannon.” He opened the dryer’s door, determined to blast their enemy with it.

“We’re gaining on them!” Holly held one hand over her eyebrows and leaned forward. “Hold her steady as she goes.” She told her son. “We’ll be in range soon, Michaels. Keep your eyes sharp.”

More than a minute passed without a word further. The great whirring in the room faded as the spin cycle ended. “Get ready to load.” Holly warned.

The wash drum stilled, and the doorlock snapped free. “Load all guns!” Captain Mom ordered. She turned the door’s latch and opened it for her son.

Arnold dashed back and forth between the two machines, madly cramming fistfulls of damp clothes from one the the other. Socks and washcloths dropped on the floor, but he ignored them in his rush. He smacked the dryer shut and looked eager at his captain.

“Aim...” Holly pointed at the timer dial. Her son leaped to adjust it for the amount of clothes within.

“Steady.” The captain pursed her lips and squinted at an imagined horizon.

“Steady.”

Arnold’s hand hovered over the start button.

“FIRE!!”

He stabbed the button and the dryer lurched to life with a metal groan.

“They’re firing back! Duck!” Holly dived down into a crouch. Her son dropped belly to tile floor.

“BOOM!” She yelled.

“KABOOM!” Arnold roared. “I’ll save you, Momma!” He pulled his mother off balance, turned, and caught her in his arms trying to protect her with his body. Her humble bosom heaved against his chest.

“OH NO, I’VE BEEN HIT!” Holly clutched her head. “AARRRGGGHHH!!!” She roared. “I fear I’m not long for this world.”

“No, Momma. NO!” He cuddled her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll save you.”

“It’s too late for me, Midshipman Michaels - my boy.” Holly acted with her saddest eyes. “How goes the fight? Did we win?”

“We won! -- all because of you.” Arnold felt real tears seep out of his eyes.

“We got the treasure?”

“You’re my treasure.” He hugged her tighter.

Holly’s heart tipped over in her breast. Suddenly she was kissing her son’s lips and returning his hug.

“Mmma.” Arnold kissed back passionately. Damp clothes tumbled diligently beside them. Freeing a hand, he knocked over his basket of warm, folded clothes. He spread them across the tile floor and lay his mother upon them. “I’ll heal you.” He insisted. There was a memory, of when he had been shot and Auntie Carol had started to nurse him back to health. His nipples didn’t make milk, but he had something that gave a fluid even more full of life. With a parting kiss, he left his mother on her back and frantically removed his shorts and underwear.

Panting from the incredible moment passing between her and her son, Holly watched him undress beside her. The warmth of the clothes beneath her, futher inflamed her desire. She remembered through a mist of passion, this wasn’t suppose to happen again. Her boy’s impressive penis sprouted from his briefs and then his balls fell out. They were enormous, like tangerines!

“Arnold.” The name escaped her lips like a light gasp. Another memory tugged at her. This was her duty, to protect her son from those painful things. Except her son showed no sign of pain. Confusion and indecision left her unable to act.

“I’ll to nurse you back to health, Captain Momma.” Arnold stepped across his mother’s sprawled body and lowered himself to his knees. He lifted her head until her lips touched his turgid peter. His balls tapped her chin. “Go ahead. You’ll feel better.” He promised.

“No, Sweetheart.” Holly shook her head, mind clearing, heart racing, soul aching. She looked down the front of her body and her hands began raveling up her skirt. “Not in my mouth.”

“Uh, - Captain?” The young man wasn’t sure if they were still playing a game.

“Pull down my panties, Midshipman.” Holly’s voice trembled. This was worse than sucking her son to shrink his balls. Yet she wanted him where he could make her feel better. “That’s an order.” She whispered passionately. Would he?

It was Arnold’s turn to be confused, but he trusted his mother, his captain. He scooted down her body, balls dragging over her perky breasts, until his hips were flush with her knees. Plain white panties looked like a surrender flag, skirt bunched around her waist. Wide eyes told Holly how much he worried about misunderstanding. To reassure him, she raised a hand and patted his jutting erection. “I’ll show you how this can heal me, Sailor.”

Arnold’s hands shook as they tugged the waistband of his mother’s cream colored panties. They slid at an angle and jammed on her wide hips for a second, but he was determined. Holly’s chest rose and fell like a steam piston. As the underwear scooted down her thighs, Arnold gasped when his mother’s carefully groomed thatch of auburn hair fluttered into view.

“There is the treasure that awaits good pirates.” Holly words were full breaths.

Heart thudding in his chest, Arnold wasted no time stripping his mother’s panties off of her legs.

“Now kiss me, Lover. Lay on top of Captain Mommy and kiss her.” She opened her arms to him. Arnold scrambled forward, covering his mother’s body with his. His balls ground into her thighs, and he winced as he offered his lips to hers.