Cleaning House

Jim looked at his father with contempt. He wanted to knock him upside the head. Instead, he went outside. In his anger, he looked around at nothing in particular, just looking as he waited for this feeling to pass. It finally did, and he was able to see that the grass needed mowing, so he headed to the shed to get the mower.

Back inside, Sharon so desperately wanted to tell James that this breakfast wasn't for him, but for Jim, but she kept that to herself. James grabbed a plate and loaded it with half of what was available. He then grabbed his beer and made his way to the television where he watched a show called Hot Wives in Love. Sharon could hear him talking to himself, telling himself what he would do to this one or that one, asking the TV why they couldn't be his wife.

Sharon laughed, simply because he hadn't been able to do anything with her in over fourteen years. He refused to take medication for the problem, and he refused to quit drinking. In the end, he just gave up. In light of what happened last night, she was glad he had.

Sharon heard a small engine come to life. She looked out of the kitchen window to see Jim mowing the lawn. She desperately wanted to go outside and apologize for her husband's behavior, but she knew Jim was more working off his anger than simply maintaining the yard, so she allowed him the time to do so.

Midway through, Jim stopped by the kitchen window, tapped on it, and when his mother looked his way, he emulated drinking from a glass. She fixed him a glass of ice water and brought it to him, just as she had done on numerous occasions before. "My, look at how hot and sweaty you are," she said as she passed it to him.

"It's more humidity than heat," Jim said in way of a response. He guzzled half the contents of the glass, allowing a loud, "AH!" to pass his lips once doing so.

Sharon reached out with nervous fingers and lightly dragged them across Jim's chest. She moved them to a cheek and did the same as she looked into his eyes. "I ..."

Jim waited for her to say something, and when she didn't, he finished off his water and got back to work. Sharon silently cursed herself for not saying what was on her mind.

She remained in the kitchen, waiting for the sound of the motor to die. It finally did, and when she saw Jim heading back to the shed, she fixed him another glass of ice water and took it to him. When she reached the shed, she saw he had pulled the hedge trimmers and the edger down. "Are you planning to do the whole thing today?" she asked as she passed the water to him.

"Thank you," Jim said as he accepted it. He took a couple of swallows, another "AH," and then said, "Might as well. I need to find something with which to busy myself."

Sharon stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Jim's neck, and purred, "What about me?"

His arms immediately went to her waist. They kissed ever-so lightly. "Why do you think I'm out here? Between Dad being an asshole and me still trying to make sense of last night ..."

"Me too, Jim," she assured him. She kissed him again. "I'll let you take me again right here if you want me."

"Oh-h-h-h-h," Jim said breathily. "I want to more than anything. I just—"

"What the hell is going on out here?" Sharon had just enough time to pull herself from Jim's embrace and take a step back before James appeared. He looked around the shed, at how well it was maintained. "Damn, I haven't been out here in years. You keeping this place up, boy?"

"I like a neat work space," Jim offered as his response. "Besides, I'm the only one who does anything around here anymore,"

That jab seemed to go over James's head. He nodded approvingly. "May be hope for you yet." He looked at Sharon. "And why are you out here?"

"I ... Uh ..."

"She came to tell me to not forget about the edging and trimming," Jim said as he pointed to the tools. "Seems everyone in the neighborhood is doing yard work today. She just wants to make sure our lawn looks as good as everyone else's."

"Well, hard work sure as hell won't hurt you any," James said before taking a few swigs from his beer. "Do you a whole lot better than any college will, that's for sure." He hocked a loogie, but instead of spitting it on the ground, he spit it on the floor of the shed. He turned his attention to Sharon and said, "Come fix me a sandwich. I'm hungry," then turned to make his way back to the house.

Sharon made to move, but Jim blocked her with an outstretched arm as he said to his father, "What is your God-damned problem?"

James spun. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Jim stepped forward and repeated himself. "I said, what is your God-damned problem?"

"Boy, you don't speak to your daddy that way."

"My daddy?" Jim asked. He burst into laughter. "My daddy? I remember you and I playing catch

in this back yard. I remember you taking me to the park and teaching me how to fly a kite. And you know what? That's where you being my daddy ended. I don't have a single pleasant memory of you since I turned six. It's like you just gave up on being a father to me and being a husband to Mom, but the really sad thing is that you just gave up on yourself. Look at you. It's like you're content to merely exist from one day to the next so you can have the opportunity to drink one more beer. You're pathetic."

James loosened his belt and pulled it from his pants. "Why, you little son of a bitch. I'll teach you to—"

Jim moved forward and threw a right cross that landed flush on James's chin, sending him back almost five feet where he landed flat on his ass. "Oh!" Sharon screamed, and when Jim moved to take another step forward, she latched onto his arm and said, "Jim, don't—" but Jim wrenched himself free.

He looked down at his father, down on him, and said, "I think I'm a bit too old for you to take your belt to me, and don't even think about retaliating. I'm younger, stronger, and faster than you. I'll kick your ass before you even realize I've done it."

James just stared at his son. He moved a hand to his jaw and worked it back and forth, then made his way to his feet and retrieved his near-empty bottle of beer. He guzzled down what remained, then threw the bottle against a tree. "There. Something else for you to clean up." To Sharon, he said, "I still want that sandwich."

"You're a drunk, Dad, not a baby," Jim called to him. "Fix it yourself." He thought he heard James tell him to go fuck himself, but as far as Jim was concerned, it was over. He turned toward his mother, who had tears in her eyes. "Mom, I ... I'm sorry."

"It's not for you to apologize for," she told him. "It's all just so ... disquieting."

Jim made to take one of her hands into his, but drew them back. "I guess I should finish the yard." He turned away from her, grabbed the trimmer and edger, then made his way into the yard, leaving her behind.

Jim had finished everything, including picking up the shards of glass as well as raking everything into a neat pile so that Eco-Waste could pick it up Monday morning. He had gotten a lot of sun today, but he wouldn't burn. His tan was as such that it would simply absorb the red and darken him even more. The parts of his young, muscular body that weren't covered in dirt glistened in the sunlight, and glistened still when he made his way through the back door and into the kitchen to get himself some more water.

"Here, let me get that for you," Sharon said, and it was more out of concern for dirt getting in the ice reservoir than her doting over him. She studied Jim as he drank down the water, and gave him more when he asked. The sight of him like this, all sweaty and, yes, even musky, turned her on. She moved forward and kissed him.

Jim smiled, drank the rest of his water, then said, "I really need to get a shower." He exited the kitchen and passed by his father as he made his way upstairs and to his room. He was aware of the hateful look James sent his way, but he didn't care. He had established himself as the new alpha. He knew his father would accept that.

Jim spent the better part of thirty minutes bathing. The first fifteen was in the shower, where he bathed himself thoroughly, and the next fifteen were spent in the tub soaking. Sharon entered his room while he was in the tub. He was not so shy as to feel the need to cover himself. She sat on the rim and dipped her fingers in the water. "Mmmm, nice and warm."

Jim was still confused about last night and these new feelings he had for his mother, but that did not stop him from saying, "Would you care to join me?"

Sharon smiled, stripped, and joined him. "It's okay. Your father was passed out."

Jim wrapped his arms around his mother's waist and pulled her close, her back against his belly and chest. She lay her head back against him. He kissed her neck lightly, then said, "This is nice, Mom." His cock jumped, and it strained against the crack of her ass as it became harder and harder. "Um ... sorry."

"No need to be," she said pleasantly. "It feels nice."

"You feel nice," he told her.

Silence, then Sharon said, "Thank you for today, for rescuing me."

"I'll always be here to rescue you, Mom. I promise you that."

Sharon leaned a little to the left, turned her head, and moved it upward. She raised her right arm, placed her hand behind Jim's head, and pulled him downward, and then they kissed. It was soft, unrushed, like the one they shared in the shed. Sharon pulled back, stood, grabbed a towel, and began to dry off. "Come on," she said, and when Jim stood, she handed him the towel and made her way into his adjoining bedroom where she pushed the door to and lay on the bed.

Jim appeared a few seconds later. He went to his mother and carefully climbed atop her.

"Make love to me, Jim," she whispered. "Not like last night. Take your time." She lifted her legs and parted them, then accepted her son into her.

Jim entered her slowly, marveling at just how tight she was. It must have escaped him last night, drunk as he was, but now she was here with him, granting him another opportunity to be with her, and he was aware of every tiny thing about her there was to know, such as her left iris had flakes of red in it and her right didn't, she had a barely visible scar just above her navel, and, as he sucked each nipple, the left seemed a bit more sensitive than the right.

"That's it, baby," Sharon said to him. "You're doing so well." Her breathing slowly became

more erratic. Her chest began to heave. Then, she shot straight up and bit hard and deep into Jim's shoulder as she screamed out her orgasm. The pain was unbearable, but Jim did not flinch. He continued moving in and out of his mother at the slow pace she had requested.

Sharon eased off. With her mouth still attached to her son's shoulder, she began to kiss it, lick it, suck it. She treated it like it was a slow melting ice cream. Still panting, she looked at Jim and said, "I'm sorry. It's been so long since I had an orgasm that intense." Jim's only response was to smile, then he kissed her.

As he continued, he said, "I came in you last night."

"You did," Sharon said with a smile. "It felt wonderful."

"Do we need to worry about that?"

"Get off me," Sharon said.

As he did, Jim said, "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay, Jim. Really. It just dawned on me that you performed oral sex on me last night. I'd like to return the favor."

"Oh," Jim exclaimed as a wide smile came to his lips. He lay back and closed his eyes. His mother moved between his legs. He saw nothing but her long, red hair as her head moved into position. He felt nothing at first. Ten seconds had gone by. Fifteen. Then his body jerked. Even still, he didn't think he had actually felt anything. It was like—and he jerked again. "Mom, what are you doing to me?"

She looked into his eyes and answered, "Something your father will never experience again," before lowering her head once more.

Jim smiled at this. That comment alone made him feel like—and he jerked again, but this time he knew he felt an extremely light pressure on that piece of skin that attaches the head of the dick to the shaft. He could only assume that his mother was lightly running her tongue across it. He jerked once more. "Oh, Mom. I've never felt anything like this before."

Sharon licked the entire length of his cock, then finally took it into her mouth. Jim's moan of ecstasy was a most pleasant sound to her ears. She began to apply her craft, which was slow, meticulous. She would take the length of him into her throat, then slowly move back up, then concentrate on just half his cock, then start the process anew.

Jim's quadriceps were tightening. Sharon could feel his abdominals tighten as well. Finally, "Oh-h-h-h-h Go-o-o-o-od!" Sharon slid a hand to the base of Jim's cock. She lightly squeezed, then loosened her grip, then lightly squeezed again, then loosened her grip again, all the while rolling her tongue and lips around the head of his dick as three huge spurts of cum invaded her mouth. Jim sat bolt upright as his cock continued to spasm. "What the hell are you doing to me?" He cried out frantically as the most monumental orgasm of his young life continued to rock his body. Then, he relaxed and fell back onto the bed.

Sharon crawled to him, to his mouth, and kissed him deeply. With a smile, she asked, "You liked it, I take it?"

He smiled dreamily at her, kissed her, and held her. "Thank you, Mom. That was the most incredible thing I have ever experienced."

"There is so much more we can experience together if you're open to it," Sharon said. "We can be everything that each of us needs, Jim. Would you like that?"

"I couldn't want anything more in the world," Jim replied.

The next morning, at seven a.m., the doorbell began to ring incessantly. Both Jim and his mother arrived to answer it. As they moved down the stairs and toward the door, Sharon asked, "Have you seen your father?"

"No," Jim responded. "He wasn't in bed?"

"No," Sharon replied, then opened the door to find, "Mr. Walton?" Mike Walton, to be precise; their next-door neighbor.

"Sharon. Jim. I think you need to come outside and see this."

They followed him to the side of the house where, "Oh, my God." It was Sharon.

"What the hell?" Jim asked.

The shrubs that separated the two houses were hacked down to nubs, and in the middle of it all was James, passed out yet lightly clutching a liquor bottle in one hand and a machete in the other, not to mention the fact that he had urinated all over himself, and several times from the look of it.

"Mr. Walton, I ... I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say," Sharon offered as tears spilled down her cheeks.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "The shrubs will grow back, Sharon. Your husband, however ... I think we both can agree that he needs help."

"He won't get it," Sharon told him. "I've tried."

"My pastor has scheduled several successful interventions," he told her. "May I have your permission to speak with him about this?"

Neither James nor Sharon were ever religious, thus the same for Jim. However, she was so

desperate for some kind of change that she was ready to try anything, including this. "That would be very kind of you, Mr. Walton."

Mr. Walton patted her shoulder, then patted Jim's. "You're a good son to your mother, Jim. She's going to need you a lot in the weeks and months to come. Can you be there for her?"

"I'll sacrifice everything else to do so, Mr. Walton."

"Good lad. Good lad," and with that, he returned to his house.

"Go on in the house, Mom. I got this."

"Are you sure?"

He lightly grabbed at her hand. "Yes, now go on." As she walked away, Jim walked over to his father and kicked him. "Get up, you drunken fool."

"Hunh? What?" James sputtered as he shook the cobwebs from his head.

Jim reached down and liberated the machete from him. "Get up, I said."

James looked at the machete. He looked fearfully at his son. "You bring me out here to kill me?"

"No, Dad. Look." He pointed to the shrubs. "You did that last night in a drunken rage. Why?"

James laughed. "I don't even remember leaving the house."

"It's not funny, Dad. Mr. Walton found you. Just look at you. You pissed your pants. Do you know how embarrassed Mom was over this?"

"Pffffffft. She'll get over it. She always does."

"She's at her limit with you, Dad, and quite frankly, so am I."

"And what are you going to do?" James asked as he stood and did his level best to keep from tipping over again. "Kick me out of my own house?"

"Get inside and get a shower," Jim told him, then walked away toward the shed. He looked back to see James rounding the corner of the house.

Jim stayed in the shed. He was in no hurry to go back in the house. He was losing his patience with his father, and the rational side of him understood that this was partially because he was slowly taking his father's place in his mother's life. He sighed, wondering if an intervention would work, and if so, would that make his mother fall in love with her husband all over again. He didn't want that. He wanted her all to himself. He slammed a fist upon the work bench.

"Whoa, Jim. You're going to hurt yourself."

He spun to see it was his mother. She was wearing a plain white cotton dress with short sleeves and a hem line to just above the knees. "Where's Dad?"

"Took a shower and fell asleep on the bed."

"Passed out, you mean." He moved close to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her. "But he's in there, and we're out here."

"What did you have in mind?"

He scooped her into his arms and placed her on the work bench. He then removed her panties and said, "Just lay back and relax." She did, and he gently placed his mouth between her legs. Of course, he didn't notice Friday night, drunk as he was and dark as the living room was, and he gave it little thought yesterday when she joined him in the bath, and eventually his bed, but now he took in the furry red bush that lay just above her shaved labia. He thought it beautiful and even nuzzled his face in it before returning to her clit.

Sharon remained silent as Jim performed oral sex on her, and not because he was unable to make her feel good but because she wanted to experience every nuance of ecstasy his tongue and lips brought to her. She ran her fingers through his hair. She breathed in deeply, the smell of motor oil assaulting her nostrils. She found it highly erotic. She felt that first little ping that signaled her oncoming orgasm, but she fought it. She learned a long time ago that the more she fought it, the more intense it was when it arrived. She began beating her own fists on the table as her legs moved wider and wider apart, and finally, "Oh Fuck, Jim!!!!!"

Jim moved his mouth from his mother's clit to inside her pussy. There, he moved it in a way someone may signal another to "come here." Sharon bucked a few more times, then came to a complete rest. Jim continued to lick inside her, determined to get all of her cum.

"Oh, baby. That was simply wonderful."

"Thank you, Mom," Jim replied when he came off her. He helped her down, then handed her panties to her.

Sharon looked a little puzzled. "Wouldn't you like something in return?"

"No, Mom. I'm just happy to be a part of your life."

Sharon kissed him deeply. "Well, I think you've earned a little something for later, if you like."

They kissed again, just a small one, then Jim said, "I'll look forward to it."

He returned to the house and did his morning routine, then went to the kitchen to find his mother

had made him a BLT. He thanked her, then told her that he was taking it to his room as he had two more finals tomorrow for which he had to study.

He came down at five-thirty. His mother said, "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Meatloaf, potatoes, and green beans."