Chapter 18: Mom’s Kinky Side

The last thing I remembered before waking up was my father yelling at me, his words long forgotten by the time I realized I had been dreaming, though my racing heartbeat got the message slower than my mind.

My door popped open, and Mom stuck her head into my room, her cheeks glowing from some new light within her body. “Make sure you shower before you come downstairs,” Mom said. “You don’t want your father smelling my pussy on you, do you?” She nibbled her bottom lip as she gave me a long look and smile, then she ducked away, reminding me of a teenager as the door closed behind her.

Fuck what my dad may have smelled; I wasn’t going downstairs until he left the house. My phone rang with Jenna’s ringtone. I grabbed it, swiped it, and said, “Yell-O?”

“I can’t take it anymore,” Jenna said. “I’m doing something tonight that’s either going to make my dad let me have you or make him put me in therapy. I’ll call you later.”

“Wait,” I said. “What?” But I was talking to empty space.

I stared at my phone, with my thumb hovering over the dial button, but one yawn later, I set my phone down and looked at my dick, which was standing up big and strong and fucking sore. I got out of my bed, naked and sticky with Mom’s pussy juice, our cum, and our sweat. I pulled on a pair of shorts and headed to my bathroom, where after taking care of my morning ritual, I jumped in the shower and let the warm water wash away the layer of sex that coated my body. The sex residue melted away, sliding off me with a thick, prurient grip that reminded me of last night in vivid detail. After cleaning myself, I thought about my soreness and remembered that athletes used the cold to rejuvenate their bodies, so I turned off my hot water.

“Fuck this,” I said after a second of freezing my nuts off and shrinking my dick. I jumped out of the shower, finished up, and returned to my room.

I dressed in shorts and a shirt, both loose, without my boxer briefs. I watched my clock tick away until eight in the morning, knowing that my father had left by then unless he had stayed home for some reason. I hadn’t heard the garage door open, but then my father didn’t always park in the garage either.

Oh, no, I thought. Was my father staying home today? Was that why Mom had told me to take a shower? No, no, no! He couldn’t stay home when I could now have sex with my mother whenever I wanted. Fuck-fuck-fuck!

I hurried downstairs with my phone in my hand and my cock as soft as a feathered pillow. I hit the foyer and turned toward the kitchen, quick-stepping through the shortcut hallway and into the kitchen, where I found Mom sitting at the end of the breakfast table and no sign of my father anywhere. My eyes moved so fast that I had yet to take in what my mother was wearing this morning.

“What’s the matter?” Mom asked, biting into a quartered pear. “You look anxious.”

“Did Dad leave?”

Mom nodded, saying, “Did you need to tell him something?”

I shook my head, sighing, and I let my gaze settle over my mother, who wore her hair up and knotted at the back of her head, loose strands hanging in an artsy mess. Then my eyes drifted downward.

A creamy-white knitted cardigan adorned her body; the wooden buttons were undone straight down the center of her torso. On the table, where Dad ate his breakfast, lay a pair of pajama pants, a shirt, a bra, and a skimpy pair of lacy, thong panties. Mom sat with the chair angled toward the kitchen island, her left leg on the floor, her right on her seat, open and giving me a window to the blonde pussy between her thighs. She had her paper in her left hand and was eating her pears with her right, her white teeth snapping into the porous fruit, but none of the juices dripped past her full lips.

“Eat,” Mom said, not looking at me. “If last night didn’t wear you out, then you weren’t trying hard enough.”

I laughed to myself, the sound barely leaving my throat as my chest and shoulders shook. I picked up my phone, selected the camera, and took a picture of my mother. The first focused on her entire body, but for the next one, I zoomed in on her pussy, and for the last, Mom set down her fruit and lowered her hand between her legs, covering her inner and outer lips but not the hollow dip into her thighs. I snapped the picture as my cock grew semi-hard and continued to harden.

“Eat,” Mom said.

I was hungry.

“Okay,” I said.

A bowl.

A spoon.

Milk.

Cereal.

I finished my breakfast before Mom finished hers. I knew she felt me looking at her from where I sat in the guest of honor chair to her right when she smiled, silently chewing on her pair. I pushed my chair outward, the legs sliding against the wooden flooring, and I turned toward her, waiting.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked.

“Like a baby,” Mom said. “You?”

“Same,” I said, curling and uncurling my fingers against my upper thighs. “I woke up kind of sore.” My heartbeat rose, and my feet tingled, the pre-damp signs of perspiration beading my palms and the soles of my feet.

“I woke up sore as well,” Mom said, the corners of her lips pulling into a smile. “I’ve missed that feeling.”

“Is it always like that?”

Mom’s smile deepened as she said, “It is when I’m allowed to be on top.”

I swallowed, my heart thumping at the perverse question that came to my mind, and I asked, “Dad doesn’t let you be on top?”

“Not often,” Mom whispered, her next breath coming in deep and shaky. “I was your father’s princess before we married, and now he treats me like a queen when all I want to be is his whore.”

My cock turned to steel, the head mashing into my shorts, the pressure trying to compress my knob.

“Since your father won’t let me be his whore,” Mom said, her voice low and anxious, “will you make me be your whore, Mark? Will you do that for your mother?”

I grabbed my cock through my shorts to ease the ache pulsing through it. “Yes,” I said, squeezing myself hard, but that only reminded me of how exposed my dick was without my boxer briefs holding it in place.

“Well,” Mom said, setting down her paper and turning her green eyes on me. “Then you better make me do something before I have to get my butt upstairs and go to work.”

Mom turned her chair to the right, the left side of the backrest connecting with the table. She brought her knees back and feet up and slid her butt to the edge of her seat, her asshole hung above empty space. That little pucker between the bottoms of her cheeks caught my attention, and again, I knew, deep down, that my mother was an anal virgin. There was no way Dad had ever touched his queen down there.

My tongue found Mom’s asshole the moment I had my head between her legs. I pushed into her little crinkle, tasting her vanilla lotion and hints of her pussy juices that had slid down her perineum and between her cheeks.

“Ooh,” Mom hissed, adding a throaty moan as her body tensed. “Ooh, that’s something your father would never do to me.”

“Good,” I whispered, licking upward from her pristine backdoor and swirling my tongue around her outer labia, pushing against the edges of her swollen pussy lips. Even with a night’s worth of sleep, I could tell my cock had given her pussy a beating.

“That’s right,” Mom said, her voice filled with the tight strain of pleasure. “Lick the soreness out of me.”

I placed my hands on the backs of her thighs, and Mom slid her arms inside her legs and pushed her elbows against the backs of her knees, holding herself up and open for me. Her pussy petals came apart with a slow, methodical beauty. Sticky strands of her cooze juice stretched between her lips, snapping apart as I pushed my tongue through their silky webbing and into my mother’s pussyhole. It was as though I had slipped my tongue into a honeypot, the delicious taste of her nectar sizzling across the surface of my tongue, making my mouth water.

“Oh, baby,” Mom whispered, “you stretched me out last night. Mmm, am I still tight for you?” She squeezed her pussy muscles, kissing the sides of my tongues with her walls. “Is Momma’s pussy still tight for her son?”

“Mmm,” I moaned into her snatch. “As tight a pussy as I’ve ever tasted.”

Mom laughed.

“The other one is only fifteen-years-old,” I whispered.

“Ooh,” Mom said, narrowing her eyes and puckering her lips. “I’m as tight as a fifteen-year-old. That’s naughty, baby.”

I smiled and tongue-fucked my mother’s opening, licking the edges of her lips and then beyond her hole. Mom held her legs up, her body twitching and quivering whenever I wet her cunny lips or dipped beyond her pink rim and painted the insides of her clam with my spit. After I had bathed my face in her nectar, I brought my hands down her thighs, using my fingers to collect her juices in turns. My left hand dipped below my waistband, grabbed my cock, and lubed my thickness with her fuck-juices while I lowered my right forefinger to her asshole and pushed against the tight pucker of her backdoor.

“Ooh, Mark, baby,” Mom whispered, “you’re getting nasty with me.”

“My whore,” I said, kissing her pussy right below her clit before taking it into my mouth and sucking. Mom bucked her hips, and she took in a sharp gulp of air as I prodded her rosebud, teasing her flesh inward and beginning to open her asshole. While playing with her butthole, I stroked my fat cock harder.

“Uh,” Mom grunted when the tip of my finger pushed her pucker open. I didn’t enter her chute. Instead, getting stuck between the rubbery ring of her sphincter. “Fuck me, Mark. Oh, fuck, put that big dick into your Mommy’s pussy.”

I growled, rising to my knees and pushing my shorts down my legs. My cock flopped upward, spitting translucent precum onto my mother’s wet cunny. I grabbed my shaft by the base and nudged the head up to my mother’s slit. Her wet folds created a puffy pie around the small lips of her inner slit. Inspired by the site of her kitty, I rubbed my knob through her lips several times, teasing her opening as she shuddered in anticipation of my first thrust. I pulled my cock back, brought it down, spanking her wet clit to the sound of a sexy slap that made my mother yelp.

“Come on, baby,” Mom urged me with an almost angry whisper, her face intense and her expression predatory. She still had her knees back and her feet up, though she had moved her arms outside of her legs and had taken her ankles in her hands, creating a frame for her face and tits as her cardigan fell to the sides. “Put your head into my hole and then give me your cock all at once.” Mom tightened her jaw. “Make me feel it, Mark. Hurt me, baby.”

My heart did a double-pump, swelling to twice its size as my mother ordered me to dominate her with my cock. I heard her thoughts, the sounds behind her eyes, and trembling in her expression chanting: Control me with your dick. Abuse me with your dick. Fuck this little pussy into submission. Do it-do it-do it.

I wet my cock with her pussy juices one more time. Mom nodded, and she nodded faster when I spat into my hand and lubed my shaft. She gathered spit, holding it on the tip of her tongue, and I let her dump it into my palm. I used her slippery juices to grease my knob and shaft one more time, making it glisten with a menacing glare.

My knob appeared too big for my mother’s muff when I eased the tip into the hot hole at the bottom of her slit. I had my knees forward and my ass back so I could mash my groin against my mother’s at the end of my first deep stroke. Mom trembled as I nudged my glans past her lips until they closed over my corona. I shivered, then took my shaft by the base, pulling back on my dick skin to make my cock as tight as possible, though it was already as hard and straight as a bar of iron.

“Are you sure?” I whispered. “Are you sure you want all of it, Mom?” I licked my lips, my skin tingling, and my chest swelling. “That’s a lot of dick for your little pussy.”

“Yeah,” Mom pouted. “I want it all—uh!”

I had thrust my hips forward the moment Mom had said “all.”

Mom’s tight, wet insides fought against my cock, straining then breaking, her velvety softness yielding to the hardness filling her hole. She arched her back and bucked her hips forward, her face breaking with that pleasure-pain mix that most porno girls fake unless they’re in some asshole’s one-bedroom apartment, getting a gritty, unsupervised fuck. My cock tingled as it slid through my mother’s pink pudding, her heat wrapping around my stiff soldier with a lover’s caress. I moaned. She groaned. When my mound smacked into hers and my balls spanked her asshole, she released a tight, “Ahhh,” as her eyes rolled back in her head.

“You okay?” I whispered.

“Fuck me,” Mom said through gritted teeth. “Oh, fuck me, baby, and make me feel every inch of that big dick.”

I placed my hands on my mother’s hips, digging my fingers into her flesh as I pulled my cock out to the tip and thrust back into her, bucking my groin against her pussy with a loud slap of flesh. Mom’s body jumped back, but I held her in place, my arms tensing, as did she. I pulled out and thrust back in, forcing heavy gasps from my mother’s throat as I piston-fucked my dick through my mother’s tiny twat.

“Uh, uh, uh, shit,” my mother moaned. “Uh, uh, uh, shit!”

Mom widened her eyes with each inward thrust, then narrowed them as I hit bottom. She glared at me, the glint was sexy, and her hunger melted away the walls holding back my orgasm. On a very hard thrust, she let go of her feet and grabbed my hands, her ankles falling to either side of my head. I had to let go of her hips and grab the sides of her chair’s backrest. Her hands were now on my forearms near my elbows. The chair legs scraped against the floor as my thrusts pushed it backward, and I pulled it forward, keeping my mother’s blonde pussy meat tight around my cock at all times. Mom’s moans grew louder, stronger, her eyes closing and her mouth opening. Her pussy took every inch of cock that I could feed it, and her lungs released her pleasure with each deep-dicking stroke into her helpless twat.

“Oh, fuck, ah—uh-uh-uh,” my mother uttered, whimpering and whining, her voice straining to capture her emotions as her pussy tightened around my prick. Cream dripped from her, and a wet melody played between her pink folds. The nasty sounds drove my mind insane while the juicy tunnel between my mother’s thighs sent electric bliss throughout my glans’ nerve endings.

I started changing my angles of penetration and varying my speed, as Mom had done last night while riding me. Loud moans left her lips, followed by surprised gasps and high-pitched yelps whenever I bottom-out within the creamy well of her pussy channel. “Oh, baby, Mark—oh-oh-oh—I’m gonna come! Oh, god, no, it feels too good. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, no—I can’t, I can’t—I can’t take it—oh!”

Mom came, crying out and trembling, her lips quivering as she panted hard. Cream dripped from her, thick and wet, spraying out around my dick. She squirted her cum onto my balls. Juices dripped down her asshole. My cock slid through her cunny tunnel, the tightness of her walls rubbing me here and there, though her body’s juices made it easier for me to glide in and out of her spasming twat.

“Oh, god, no—again!” Mom whimpered, this time sobbing as another orgasm washed through her insides. Her cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head at me, tears in her eyes. “No more, baby. No more. No more, no more—oh, god—again!”

I was close to coming, but Mom was shaking and crying real tears. I waited for her orgasm to end, and just when her pussy tightened as if she was about to spill even more cum over my cock, I pulled out of her and stood. Her feet dropped to the floor, and as weak as she was, Mom leaned forward and wrapped her full lips around my cock like a good girl. Sucking, licking, and jerking followed as she cleaned her cum from my prick, not stopping even after my balls tingled and my body tensed, and I threw back my head and came, filling my mother’s mouth—my nasty, naughty, slutty mother’s mouth—full of my hot, incestual seed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I gasped. “Fuck, Mom. Fuck—you’re the best mom ever!”

“Mwah, mwuh, mwuh, mwah,” Mom uttered around my cock, sucking me hard, her sounds wet and sloppy while she jerked me off with one hand and coaxed the last of my nut out of my sack with the other. I fell to the floor after I came. My softening cock stretched between my mother’s lips and plopped out of her mouth with a loud, naughty sound.

We sat in the kitchen for several minutes, regaining our breaths. Finally, Mom said, “I need to get to work.” She stood on shaky legs and left the kitchen, walking funny and bracing herself against the wall.

I lay there for a while until I decided I had better take another shower and rest up for Mom’s lunch break. There was a lot more sex to come before Dad came home and then, even after.

I showered, I rested, then I decided to work out. We had a spare upstairs master suite that dad and I had converted into a small gym. We had a treadmill, an Olympic weight bench, dumbbells, a pull-up, and dip machine, and just enough room to use each machine without having to tuck anything in. I skipped cardio and performed a lightweight/many reps routine, working hard, but not so hard I wouldn’t be able to give my mother the fucking she deserved.

What a weird thought, I thought. Giving my mother the fucking she deserved. Never in my life had I imagined myself thinking something like that for any reason, but now it seemed as natural as breathing.

I took another shower, humming “Never Going to Give You Up” by Rick Astley.

Jeans and a plain black T-shirt made up my outfit, and I was downstairs, sitting on the couch with my phone off to the side when I heard Mom’s office door open and close. I heard the opening and closing of her bedroom door; then it opened again about ten minutes later.

Mom came downstairs, dressed in a high-on-the-thigh, gray tennis skirt. If she bent over, she’d be showing muff. She also wore a dark blue polo shirt with a white collar and trim. The fabric hugged her littlish tits, and by the way they bounced and her nipples stuck out, I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She still had her hair worn back, though it looked neater than this morning. She had her purse on her left arm and her sunglasses on her face, and as she cleared the last stair, she tossed me the keys to her Mercedes SUV.

“I want to go out for lunch today,” Mom said, heading for the door. “To Biggie’s Burgers. You can drive.”

“Your car?”

“Yeah,” Mom said, “it’s harder for most people to look through my windows than yours when we’re driving. You never know when we may need our privacy.”

I followed my mother outside. We were driving through our neighborhood five minutes later, on our way to the fast-food drive-through with Mom’s purse in the backseat and my cock growing in pants every time she tilted her head to look at my crotch.

“How are things with Jenna?” Mom asked.

“Good,” I said, shrugging, my eyes glancing at her lotioned legs. “She’s frustrated.”

“And you?”

“Not as much as I used to be.” I smiled. “But, it’s hard when I’m around her.”

“You are being careful?”

I nodded.

“You’ve done stuff with Jenna,” Mom said. “Tell me, what have you done?”

“Kissed,” I said, my cheeks warming enough to tell me that they were turning red.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” Mom asked. “Why so shy?”

I shrugged.

“Have you ... sucked Jenna’s titties?” Mom asked, licking her lips. “They look nice. Are they as cute as her pussy?”

“Yes,” I said, my heartbeat rising and my cock swelling. “I’ve sucked them.”

“Have you touched that pretty little pussy she was showing off in my living room yesterday?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice shaky.

“Have you fingered it?”

“Yes.”

“Tasted it?” Mom whispered. She sounded fucking hot.

“Yes,” I said, lowering my voice as my cock pushed against my pants with a slow uncoiling of flesh.

“Has she gone down on you yet?” Mom asked, her voice turning throaty.

“She’s waiting for our first time together, but she jerks me off.”

“Has she ever jerked you off while you were driving?” Mom’s right hand slid along her shoulder strap, tugging it further outward with every pass.

“Not yet,” I said, and when Mom sat there staring at me through her sunglasses, I added, “but you’re going to. Right now.”

“Are you making me?”

“Yeah.” My cock thickened, making my jeans uncomfortable. “I’m making you, Mom.”

Mom pulled her shoulder strap over her head, letting it fall back against the seat. It was only then I noticed how loose the seatbelt was, and I immediately slowed down—not that I was driving fast in my mother’s Mercedes—but I slowed down nonetheless. She turned toward me, pulling her left leg up, her pleated tennis skirt unable to hide the bright pink triangle of her lacy panties, the coverage so small that the start of her thong dipped between the lower portion of her pussy lips.

“Like them?” Mom asked, her eyes following mine between her legs as we sat at a stop sign. “I bought them for you.”

“I love them.”

A car honked behind me, and I drove off.

“Mark, if you’re going to make me do naughty things to you,” Mom whispered, “then take your time driving to Biggie’s Burgers.”

I took my time.

Mom leaned over, saying, “Shit,” as she unbuckled her seatbelt completely. I eased up on the gas, driving as slow as I could without becoming too suspicious. She leaned toward me, her hands moving over my jeans, her touch tickling me through the thickness of my pants as she ran her right hand up my thigh. Her hand dipped inward, caressing my inner thigh, then sliding between my legs, cupping my cock and balls through my pants.

“What do we have here?” Mom teased, adding pressure to her caress as she played with my belt. “What are you stuffing your pants with to make your bulge so big?”

I could hear it in my mother’s voice: She didn’t want her dirty talk to be a monologue, so I said, “I’m stuffing my pants with the big cock you gave me.”

Mom purred, squeezing my balls and causing my cock to bend against my jean’s threaded fibers. She tore my leather belt apart, unfastened the buckle, and then the button holding my pants together. I had to lift my hips as Mom worked the zipper down and my pants open, fishing out my bent pole until it straightened. She spat on my knob, then gave my warm meat a few rod-wetting strokes with her right hand before she took my thick cock in her left hand and faced forward again.

“Do you want me to fist-pump this big dick, Mark?” Mom spread her legs and pulled her skirt up. “Is that what you want your mother to do for you, baby?”

“Yeah,” I said, stopping at a light and looking around the street. There were other SUVs around, but Mom had tinted her windows as dark as the law allowed, maybe darker, but one look at Mom had always been enough for a police officer to let her off with a warning (not that she got pulled over often, just maybe more than most people). “I want you to get your hand wet and jerk off your son’s hard cock.”

My heartbeat hammered beneath my chest.

“You’re a bad fucking boy,” Mom purred, taking her hand from my cock and placing it between her legs. She rubbed the front of her panties, digging her fingers between her lips and forcing the dental floss up into her silky folds. After several soft sighs, Mom lifted her hand to her mouth and spat in her palm. Smiling, she reached over with her left hand and gripped my cock’s crown as she lowered her right hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy some more.

The lights stayed green for me as Mom stroked my cock, varying the tightness of her grip and adjusting how much skin she pulled up around my knob. She jerked me fast, then slow, then she tugged my cock in her direction. She played with her pussy the entire time, using the same rhythm on her clit as she did on my prick. She laughed when I pulled into a residential street a block away from Biggie’s Burgers, and she started a slow, teasing stroke that spread my precum into her palm.

“Baby,” Mom pouted, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay,” I said, turning back onto the street and driving to our destination—but looking back, I don’t think Okay was what Mom had wanted me to say, because...

Mom spoke again once we pulled up to the drive-through speaker, saying, “Oh, I can’t wait for a thick, juicy burger, Mark, but that’s okay because there’s a big piece of meat right here, isn’t there?” Mom turned her upper body toward me, angling her knees in the same direction. She lowered her head to my lap, taking my glans into her open mouth with one quick swallow, followed by an mmm sound.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned into the drive-through speaker.

“Hello,” a young woman’s voice said through the speaker. “Welcome to Biggie’s Burgers, home of the biggest burgers in the world. How may I help you this afternoon?”

“Uh,” I half-moaned, “that’s a good question. Mom, what do you want?”

“Mmm, umm, mmm, mwah,” Mom hummed around my cock, every sound she uttered came out thick and slobbery.

“Um,” I said, my voice tightening, “I’ll take two of your Jumbo Burgers with extra sauce and meat.”

Mom purred around my cock, her blowjob turning sloppy and wet and her hungry sounds growing louder. Spit slid down my shaft as Mom opened her jaw wide, wiggling her head side-to-side as she fought to take down more of my hard salami.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you want an extra patty on those burgers?”

“No,” I said, gritting my teeth as my knob slipped into Mom’s throat. She gagged, sputtered, and kept going. “Just—uh—extra bacon.”

My cock curved into Mom’s throat, the new strain against my shaft tightened my balls. Her lips made contact with my short hairs, and Mom gagged again, choking and coughing. She tried to come up, but my mother’s strain had ignited a buzzing in my nuts that wasn’t going away. As I settled our order, I put my right hand on Mom’s head and held her down on my cock. Mom fought to get up, coughing again, and I thanked the drive-through girl for our order and moved forward in line. Mom sputtered, her throat grinding against my knob, and then she palmed my nuts, and I lost it. My shaft swelled with cum. A moment later, I made a sticky deposit into my mother’s tummy.

Mom was still gulping down my seed when we pulled up to the window. The drive-through attendant, a petite Latina teen—who I think I recognized from school—looked into Mom’s SUV. Her hands went to her mouth, and her dark eyes grew wide. I smiled with as much of an I’m sorry expression on my face as I could manage, but she wasn’t looking at my face, thank god. Mom dragged her lips up my cock, stopping with my glans still in her mouth, and she pumped my cock several times, pulling out the last of my spunk.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed to the attendant as I tried to put my cock away, which hadn’t gone soft, not with this girl looking into the car, right at my dick. Her eyes never ventured to my face.

Mom wiped her mouth and grabbed her purse from the backseat, and then she asked, “I’m sorry, dear, how much was that again?”

Back on the street, Mom asked, “That was fun.” She looked at my lap. “You’re still excited.”

“It won’t go down,” I said.

“Your cock won’t go down, baby,” Mom said. “Talk to me properly. So, did getting caught turn you on?”

“Did it turn you on?”

“Yes,” Mom said, laughing. “These are the things your father would never let me do. We’d come so close to being nasty, but he could never follow through. I’ve been thinking about something lately...” Mom looked out the window. “We need to make a quick stop. I need to buy something.”

“Where are we going?” I asked; the smell of the double cheeseburgers and crispy fries had already made my mouth water.

“Pink’s Playground,” Mom said. “It’s a strip club.”

“I,” I said, cocking my head, “know what it is.”

“You do?”

“We’re going there as soon a Billy turns eighteen, I said, mentioning the youngest of my friends. Speaking of friends, I hadn’t talked to anyone but Jenna since my mother had started teasing me. My mother fucking owned me. Shit.

“Do you know the way?” Mom asked.

“I do,” I said.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do in that place, and you’re father almost let me once, for my birthday, but...” Mom shook her head. “Drive on.”

I had no idea what Mom planned to buy or do at Pink’s Playground, but I had visions of a stripper lineup, each girl topless and wearing a micro G-string that glowed with the power of neon sex. White girls, black girls, Asian girls, Mexican girls, Indian Girls—they danced in my head—a potluck of pussy that Mom wanted to buy for me. Jenna tried to poke her head into my fantasy, which only made me harder. Lap dances weren’t cheating. As it turned out, dancing pussy was not on my mother’s shopping list.

Pink’s Playground had a downstairs pornography shop full of DVDs, sex toys, and everything you could buy on the internet, but without the overnight delivery. How many boyfriends had brought their girlfriends down here after a night of titty watching? What nasty things did those girls buy afterward? What was Mom going to buy?