Chapter 9

Oscar returned to his room and discovered the fake flower vase on his desk. He sought out his mother. She was sitting up, legs resting across living room couch, accessing the research forum with her laptop. His father was in the kitchen making Indian curries for dinner. Oscar held out the vase and flower, frowning. “Don’t you want it?”

Carol closed her laptop with a self-conscious snap. “Oh, Oscar.” She looked at the flower. It glistened as if dew had formed on the petals. Gulping slowly, her eyes met her youngest son’s. “It was looking a little, um, tired when I put it on your desk. Did you just freshen it?”

“Yes, Momma.” Oscar’s eyes widened. Had she wanted him to daub it with more mixed cum? Is that why she had put it on his desk?

“That’s very sweet of you.” Carol swallowed again. “Er, why don’t you put it on the table. It’ll look nice there while we eat.”

“Okay.” That seemed like an odd place. Oscar worried about how the smell would affect his dad and brother. Maybe his mom would take the flower with her after supper. He shuffled into the dining room and placed next to her table setting.

Carol was curious about the same thing. After they had played their game of birds and bees, she remembered Jeffery’s uncharacteristic timidness. He had been in the flower’s proximity long enough to have been effected. She also recalled her husband’s unexpected lack of an erection that night. There was a disconcerting chance that male reactions to the combined pheromones of boys like Oscar were less than pleasant.

In fact, both Jeffery and Ricardo mentioned the flower’s strange odor during dinner. She countered. “Don’t hurt Oscar’s feelings. It’s a gift from the heart. I don’t smell anything, and I don’t see how either of you could. It’s polyester.” She blamed the blending curry smells instead of revealing the truth.

Her husband was an accomplished, hobby chef. Dinner was actually very delicious. Once Carol had eaten her fill, she asked about dessert.

Her husband shrugged, looking down at his half-eaten plate of food. He had been picking at it with a spoon for the past five minutes.

Jeffery ate slowly, taking small bites after long seconds. He acted as if his food had lost all flavor.

“Well, I want some dessert!” Carol proclaimed with half a giggle. “What would you like, Oscar?”

“ICE CREAM, Mommy!” The boy banged his fist on the table. His father and brother flinched as if they had been threatened. Both curled inward on their chairs, avoiding Oscar’s presence.

“Race you to the refrigerator.” Carol leaped out of her chair. She got there a second before her youngest.

“You cheated, Mommy.” Oscar pouted. “It’s not fair if you don’t warn anyone.” He looked back at the table. His dad and brother looked very sad in their chairs. “What’s wrong with them?”

Carol fetched a unopened pint of peanut butter chocolate ice cream and put it on the counter. “Nothing, Honey. They’re just tired.” She took a pair of bowls and spoons from a cupboard. Frowing at the bowls, she grabbed the frosted, pint container and gave the spoons to Oscar. “We don’t need to eat around those sourpusses.” She nearly skipped, leading her youngest out of the kitchen, past the moping men, and into the master bedroom. Her free hand grabbed the vase along her way.

“Golly!” Oscar always felt a little anxious in his parent’s room. Not that he and Jeffery didn’t regularly scour the contents to learn what they could about their parents’ private lives. When his mom sat on her bed and patted the space next to her, he gawked a second time. “But we’re not suppose to eat in bed.”

“Shh.” She set the fake flower on her nightstand. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

Oscar giggled and bounded up to the bed. He grabbed her into a hug. The spoons in his hands clattered behind her. His mother ripped the lid off and tore away the seal. They enjoyed stabbing their untensils into the not too soft dessert, offering spoonfuls to each other. They hugged between swallows, and when the container was empty, they fell back on the bed, kissing madly.

In the dining room, Ricardo Hughes looked sideways at his older son. “We shouldn’t bother them.” Glee filled laughter sounded from the far room.

“No, Dad. Oscar might get upset.” Jeffery agreed.

Flesh meeting flesh smacked fervently down the hall. Glee turned to passionate outbursts punctuating drawn out moans. At one point, Carol Hughes squealed like stuck pig, snorting and grunting, “Harder, Oscar, Harder!” and “Mommy’s cumming!” and “Oooo, I can’t believe you’re still filling me.”

A few days later, in an evening after school, the boys chatted online. Oscar hesitated to detail his and Race’s success with Ms. Peralta, but Race eagerly claimed that he finally got his mom’s pussy. He didn’t implicate his young friend, though.

“My mom’s real different now.” Oscar typed, wanting to be as bold as Race. “The cum mix is working great!”

“How so?” Arnold was starving for information.

“Where’s Jeffery?” Race interrupted.

“He said he didn’t care anymore. I think he’s jealous.”

“Yeah.” Race agreed. “He was blowing wind about his chances of getting blown by his mom.”

“Who wouldn’t be jealous?” Arnold agreed. “Oscar, what’s your mom doing for you?”

“Well” He typed slowly. “She let me eat ice cream on her bed.”

“Aw, that’s boring.”

“I think he wanted to say that he ate out his mom on her bed.” Race didn’t hesitate to expose his younger friend’s habits.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Oscar blushed at the family computer. He was a little angry too, because Race had already admitted to full sex. Oscar suddenly typed, “And then I fucked her!”

The chatroom stalled for nearly two minutes.

“Me too, guys.” Arnold finally admitted. “But Mom hasn’t changed after doing it.” He muttered. “Dad kinda did...”

Race refrained from mentioning that his mother was between his legs, sucking on his dick and fondling his massive balls. “We need to get you a fresh mix.”

Jean pulled her mouth off of her son’s hard prick. She had been glancing at the screen when she could twist her neck enough. “Now, Race. We agreed that the other moms have to make their own decisions.”

“I’ll catch a bus right over.”

Race confessed, “Sorry, Arnold. I promised to help Mom this evening.”

“Oscar, you’re father away, but I’ll do it.” Arnold tried again.

“Gosh. I want to, but that would be too late.” Oscar’s father and brother had been going to bed earlier each night. He and his mom had the best times when they had full run of their large house, Jeffery’s and the master bedroom excluded.

“Don’t leave me hanging.” Arnold pleaded.

Race made an empty promise. “We won’t.”

“We’ll be in touch.” Oscar signed off. Poor Arnold, he thought. He would have given his languishing friend some of his mix, but he’d used the last of it yesterday. Each dose on the flower lasted two or three days at best. His mom had taken to covering the flower with a plastic bag to seal in freshness. But it also let her recover from its effects.

When his brother and father recovered, they acted as if they had been dreaming. Neither of the impotent males had confronted the young boy nor his mother about their obvious, willful transgressions.

When the mothers arranged their next meeting in person, at Holly’s home, they brought their sons but bade them to play outside until the meeting had ended.

“Look at you!” Holly watched her friends gobble coffee cake and suck down full mugs of hot brew. “You two ate the cat and the canary!”

“We won’t pressure you.” Jean was sincere. She believed there wouldn’t be a need to.

“Girls,” Carol admonished. “We’re here to share what we’ve learned - before presenting it to the good and perverted doctor.”

“And it’s not like you haven’t tasted the forbidden fruit.”

Holly blushed and angered. “Fuck you.”

“Does that mean you want to call the boys in right now?” Jean smirked from the catbird seat.

“Please, Jean!” Carol tried again. “Tell us what you learned.”

“Sorry.” Race’s mother took a breath. “It seems as if the pain our sons were experiencing was due to overstretched scrotums.”

“We already know that.” Holly partially succeeded in removing bitterness from her voice.

“Except, the truth is, we didn’t need to be so alarmed by it.”

“Hey, my boy was in serious pain. He wasn’t kidding.” Arnold’s mother had become incredibly grateful to Carol for racing to suck off her son.

“Yes, we did the right thing, but we missed what was really happening.”

“Okay, Detective Smartass,” Carol chuckled. “What WAS really happening?”

“The scrotum is just skin.” Jean explained. “When skin is stretched, it grows.”

“You mean like some of those fake penis enlargement ads?”

“Or circumcision reversal frauds?”

Before answering, Jean was somewhat surprised by her friend’s knowledge of cock enhacement. “Yeah. Our boys were in pain because their scrotums didn’t get the message from their weird genetics to accomodate their enlarged testes. They were already stretched. Scrotums can handle a lot of change, just not the tangerines our boys get when their sperm competion response kicks in.

“You’re saying that their traits didn’t fully prepare our sons for their special, um, gift.”

“We’re lucky that skin stretches, or their special arousal might have seriously injured them.”

Holly gasped happily, “You’re also saying that, over time, because stretched skin grows, their ball sacks have gotten big enough to handle the extra load.”

“Precisely!”

The women dug out new helpings of coffee cake, and Holly made another pass with a fresh pot of coffee. She sat down and asked, “What did you learn, Carol?”

“That it’s pretty much the end of the world.”

“Mommy? Why can’t we all take one car?” Arnold pouted in the front seat while his mother drove with one hand and jerked on his hard prick with the other. “Ain’t that s’pose to be more eco-friendly?”

“Don’t say, ain’t. Say, isn’t, Honey.” Holly fought the effect of the boys’ combined pheromones. The women had been quick to separate the boys, but some of the molecules must have clung to her son’s clothes. “And I already told you the reason. We’ll need our cars after we see the doctor.”

Carol’s message of doom sparked a memory in Holly of her husband. After Arnold presented a flower to her, and she had succumbed to it’s power, Gavin had acted listless all evening. He fell asleep as soon they went to bed. At the time, she was grateful, not sure that she could make love to him after her amazing experience with Arnold. Driving as efficiently as possible to Dr. Vassarkik, her husband’s voice echoed in her head. “That flower smells really weird. Arnold must have plucked it from a garbage bin!”

Selim Vassarkik had lost a bit of weight in the last few weeks, but that hadn’t been her goal. She had been masturbating so frequently, she rarely ate more than one meal a day. When she wasn’t absorbed at work, she was wholly absorbed with her vibrator and a mask coated with samples of Arnold’s, Oscar’s, and Race’s preserved cum. She counted herself lucky. Without her personal passion to solving the mystery of 1473:819:84115, she might have left her apartment only to refill her supply of mixed cum.

In a short time, she had abused her clitoris so much it started to hurt. A sore vulva helped Selim to finally get a grip on her desires. She put herself on a strict schedule of work and play and mostly managed to stick to it. When the phone rang, she was sitting down to a bowl of tofu ramen and vegetables. Having lost twenty pounds, the previously lazy eater was motivated towards a healthier diet. Her only regret was, little of the lost weight had come from her ass and tits. They were as bulbous as ever. She picked up the phone and heard the signal that indicated someone was at the apartment entrance. “Hello?”

“Doctor? It’s Jean Peralta. We have to talk with you, right now.”

“Is this an emergency?”

“In the - short term - no.” Jean answered haltingly.

“I’m eating dinner. Can you come back?”

“Um, we could try.” Jean guaged the boys who had resumed a game of tag they had begun before being driven apart in separate vehicles. The women might not last much longer around them. “Actually, it probably is an emergency.”

“Why come here instead of the clinic? There’s a twenty four hour nurse who can summon one of the other, practicing research doctors.”

“Because you’re the only one who might be able to handle the truth.”

The women had discovered something new. Elation sprang through Selim’s neurons. She punched into her phone the unlock code for the main entrance.

When the women arrived at her door, Selim grimaced warily. “You brought the boys?”

Arnold, Race, and Oscar barreled into the room, falling on the carpet and rolled like teen sized barrels. Jean snapped at them. “Two minute timeout, boys.” She pointed. “Wall. Now.” The boys pouted and whined, but they went to the wall and stood apart.

Carol strode up to the Doctor, ignoring Selim’s concern at the boys’ presence. “This is a large apartment building.” Carol asked bluntly. “Which of the men living here has been making unwelcome passes at you?”

“What?” The doctor had been expecting information not questions. “That’s very personal-”

“Name one, Doctor.” Carol could speak forcefully during an emergency. “We can’t run our experiment without one.”

“Experiment? I thought you were bringing results.”

“This discovery is best demonstrated. If you think getting aroused by a mix of special boy cum is incredible, wait until you see this.”