Her Best Friend's Son Ch. 02

A couple of mornings later, Susan called just as Angela was getting ready to leave for work. Her best friend rarely called this early. Angela frowned.

"Hi Susan, what's up?"

"Angela, oh, I'm so glad to catch you. I...I think we need to talk. Something's happened".

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. I mean...I'm not sure. It's not like that. I can't really talk about it on the phone. Can I come by tomorrow?"

"You mean come all the way down to London?"

"Um, yes."

Angela's heart began to sink. A sudden thought occurred to her. Maybe this was about Jeremy. She hadn't done anything actually wrong, had she? Going out with him to a nightclub was celebration. But the way she had dressed, the way she had felt...if Susan had some hint of that from Jeremy's description of the visit?

"Susan, you sound serious."

"I..I'm just can't tell. I want to talk it through with you first. I could easily be down on a train for when you get back from work."

"Of course. I'll be here."

"Oh, thank you Angela. You've always been my best friend."

Angela rang off and sat back down for a while, contemplating. Then she stood up and went and got Jeremy's musky and soft t-shirt which he had once again left after his visit - was the boy just forgetful or what? - and put it in the trash. Then she changed her mind and put it in the wash and started a load so she couldn't change her mind again. Already in the machine were her yellow panties - they had been wadded up in the sheets as she had left them and she had no way to answer the anguished question as to whether or not he had found them.

She didn't sleep well that night. When she was awake, she was anxious about how the conversation would go with Susan. She didn't want to lose an old friendship. And she didn't think she should have to feel as ashamed as she did, but...she did. Asleep though, her dreams were filled with erotic images. She awoke several times in the night, sweaty and disturbed.

"Hi Susan. Come on in. How was the train?"

"Fine, just fine. You look great!"

Angela had thought carefully about what to wear and chosen a casual but not unflattering dress. She was determined not to act more guilty than she had to.

"Tea?"

"Um, do you have anything stronger?"

And so they sat on opposite ends of the sofa, perched and awkward, glasses of red wine in hand.

"Angela, thanks for meeting with me so suddenly. I know I've been mysterious. But you'll understand. Well, I hope you will."

"Susan, maybe I should try to explain..."

"No, no please. Let me start, ok? I need to ... get this off my chest.'

Angela sat back. Wary but also hopeful. This didn't seem quite the mood she was expecting.

"It's about Jeremy," Susan continued. Angela nodded, her spirits sinking a bit again. "First, some background. You know, you know I haven't had another man in my life for, well for years. After the divorce. Dating was...well, never went well for me. And that's mostly been ok. I've told myself that I don't need it in, you know, that way, like some. The physical that is. But well, the emotional intimacy, actually having a companion. That I have missed. Or rather I would have. I've been thinking about this. The truth is, I've been the classic single Mum. I've used my son for a lot of that missing companionship. Encouraged him to live with me to save money during University. Shared evening dinners. Going out to movies together, even at school - I think Jeremy must have seen more chick flicks than the rest of the boys in his school combined. And he's never complained. Always been lovely company - attentive and fun and, well, frankly adoring in a son/mum way."

"Sounds...lovely."

"Yes, I know, but, I had started to wonder, if I had, you know, smothered him a bit. Or at least channeled his attention too much. He didn't seem to take any interest in girls. Only his studies. And time with me. And, well, as you know, I even wondered if he was gay. Or maybe I was making him that way - I know that sounds terribly old-fashioned, but you know, I worried. But I also wanted him. For companionship. Or at least that's what I told myself."

Susan took another sip of wine, and seemed to steel herself.

"The fact is, when he started coming down here for interviews, I began to realize that he would likely be moving away. And soon. So, well, when he came back from staying with you, I started talking about girls with him. What he wanted. And talking about...sex. I thought it would be awkward, but it really wasn't. I told him he should be exploring his sexuality. And the truth is, just talking with him made me realize how much I missed it myself. We talked about it after dinner that night, and I went and got changed for bed. But then, well, I was just in such a funny mood, feeling sad and kind of anxious about him likely to leave home soon, but also being so - moved - by talking about sex with him, that I went back into his bedroom and sat on his bed and asked him more questions about what his fantasies were and he asked me about mine. I got even more...turned on I suppose, to be just honest about it, and the best was, I could see he was too. His, you know, his 'cock', was making a tent under the sheets." Susan paused, blushing. "Are you just horrified with me?"

Angela was so busy catching up with her emotions that she could hardly reply. "I...it's just...surprising. Did anything happen?"

"No. I mean, not then. I gave him a long hug goodnight, and I was really aware of how he must be able to feel my boobs. They're, as you know..."

"Yes, I do know. Nice and full. Always been a bit envious. Real mum's boobs."

Susan smiled at the comment.

"...but then I managed to get myself to just leave and go back to my own bed. But I hardly slept that night, I was so unbelievably...horny. There, I said it. The thought of him all grown up in the room next door with a real hard on. And the truth is, being my son didn't put a damper on it for me. I mean, it wasn't just an awkward situation. I wouldn't have wanted him to be some convenient stranger."

"You wanted to have sex with your son?" After all she had tormented herself with the last few days, Angela felt a sudden rush of relief in turning it around on her friend.

"Oh, my God, I know, I know Angela. It's so, so wrong - but you can't imagine what it was like, how turned on I was, lying there in my bed just wanting him and he being next door and maybe, for all I knew, just as...ready?"

"Um, yes maybe I can." Angela felt like she was on the edge of her own confession, but Susan seemed oblivious.

"Well, thank you for understanding. But, that's of course not all. The next day I was just - unstoppable. I don't know what came over me. I just...didn't want to stop myself I suppose. I wanted him to know how I felt so badly. I put on a revealing nightie. Something left over...well, I hadn't worn for years. And I...I rented a porn movie for us to watch."

"You? A porn movie? Where did you rent it?"

"Oh, I found it on Amazon Prime. I'd seen it at the movies with Michael, when I was still trying to date him. That might have been the last date, actually."

"I'm confused, what was the movie?

"It's called Adore."

"With the two mum's? In Australia? With each other's sons?"

"Yes."

"That's hardly a porn movie Susan. It must be R rated if it was in the movies. I think I saw it on Netflix."

"Oh, well, I supposed it's not technically porn. Not one of the illegal ones -"

"Porn's not actually illegal Susan!"

"You know what I mean, one not in the movie theatres. Whatever. It's certainly...pretty scandalous."

"Yes, and sexy. Although it kind of ends badly for the two women as I recall."

"Well, we didn't actually get to the end. At least, it was playing, but we didn't watch it."

"Um..."

"Well, while it was running, I could sense that Jeremy was getting more awkward and more turned on, at least I hoped he was, and so I started to touch myself to make it seem natural, and said it would be fine by me if Jeremy did the same."

"Wow. And?"

"Oh, he totally went there. We were kind of glancing at each other, which just made it so...arousing for me...until Jeremy totally went all over himself. And...I got down on my knees and licked him clean, telling him there was nothing to feel self-conscious about."

"Wow again."

"And, Jeremy just started tearing open my nightie. I had told myself that if we went anywhere, it would just be oral. I'd be, you know, I'd be teaching him Sex Ed first hand. How to please and be pleased. But when he started kissing me, I just lost my head. I just didn't say no. He was so eager."

"I thought he'd just ejaculated?" Angela was numb, her question almost mechanical.

"Oh Angela. You've forgotten what young men are like! He was hard again instantly. And, he's, he's...I mean, my son is...I don't know what's average? But he's bigger than I've ever seen. And here was the boy who had always loved me and taken such care of me, and suddenly he was mouthing mummy's breasts like he was starving hungry for me, and with this huge hard-on. I just opened my legs for him, anything he wanted. He took me right there on the couch! Even though my back was jammed against the sofa arm. I felt so fulfilled Angela!"

There was a long silence. Susan finished her wine, and sat staring into the empty red taint left behind. Angela suddenly realized that she was lost in the spin of images that were whirling through her brain and roused herself, filling her friend's glass. Susan looked up, teary-eyed.

"Can you still be my friend?"

"Of course."

"I mean, not just forgive me for what's done. Because, the truth is I don't want to feel guilty. And I don't want to stop. I still want him. I...I don't want to be too old yet." Susan had a defiant look to her chin.

"Oh, Susie, I understand you more than you can realize."

"Even though you are younger than me?"

"What, five years? Not even quite that."

"Yes, but you still look young. You could totally pull it off if you wanted to. Whereas, I'm...I'm definitely a mum. I guess that's what I wanted Jeremy to see in the movie. That the mums, well, especially the cute one, she's still, a sexual person."

"A MILF"

"A what?"

":Of for God's sake Susie. How can you be one and not know the acronym? Mother I'd Love to Fuck."

"Oh. That's..."

"Hot?"

"Yes," acknowledged Susan.

"That's what the young men call it these days. Those hot older women who could be their mother but they are secretly dying to fuck."

"Do...they really want..."

"Really? You tell me."

"I guess, yes. Could be their mother. Or in this case, actually be their mother," Susan giggled. Angela wondered if it was the wine kicking in, or a sense of relief in having confessed to her friend. Angela herself was still feeling numb. Or at least, too overwhelmed to know how she felt deep inside. She found herself playing along as the supportive friend, more out of default than conviction. "It's, kind of hot," she said again. Did she feel that? Or was she just saying the most reassuring line that came to mind?

"Really, you think so? You're not...shocked?"

"Oh, fuck's sake, I'm totally shocked. Susan, you've made it with your own son. And rather than ashamed, you describe it like a porn scene. I'm completely shocked. A little bit awed too."

"Shocked that I don't feel guilty?"

"A bit, yeah."

"I guess I just don't want to. And it's not like he's been interested in girls. We actually talked about that a lot."

"Oh?" Angela's ears pricked up.

"Yes. It's not like he hasn't noticed them, he said. But he said they are so, oh, just so silly. And uninteresting. Just chasing after guys, no real interests of their own. Nothing he respects them for. And all they want out of him is to make him settle down in a hurry and have kids and he's not ready for that. Oh, some time, he said. But he really wants to get himself established first."

"Hmmmm," Angela was remembering his comments about her work.

"So, no, I don't want to feel guilty. Actually, the only thing I really worry about is distracting him from finding that right young woman. I'm sure there is one out there who he could take seriously. So...I have an idea. A kind of crazy plan really."

"Do tell."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Jeremy is going to land this job. He's not letting himself assume anything, so typical of him, but we know that they are calling his references, which will all be outstanding of course. So..."

"He'll be moving down here to London," Angela said, feeling her heart skip a beat. She tried to keep her expression pleased rather than as giddy as she suddenly felt. It was the first undeniable punch of her own emotion since Susan's confession.

"Yes, but I can't imagine he can afford much of anywhere to stay yet. What if he - I'm just going to put it out there - what if he stayed here during the week, and came back up North on the weekends?" Susan finished in a plaintive squeak.

"What, so that you could still fuck him on the Saturdays?" Angela knew she was being cruel, but her chest was lurching between the excitement at the thought of Jeremy living with her, and realizing that she was also feeling...jealous?

Susan hung her head. "I know. I'm shameful. Beyond shameful."

"I'm sorry," Angela spluttered, feeling genuine remorse. Who was she to judge? Wasn't she just as bad, at least in her thoughts?

Susan looked up. "I am ashamed. But I'm also unrepentant. You know, when we women reach a certain age, it's like, we're not supposed to desire any more. Well I do, damn it. I do, Angela! I desire, and I want, and I can still be a horny bitch! I found that out about myself. Like I said, when Jeremy started kissing me, really kissing me, it was like a switch clicked over in my mind. Or rather somewhere lower down in my body. All my plans to set boundaries, they just got torn and shredded and thrown away. No. I threw them away. You know the truth? I was the one who pulled off my nightie. I was the one who spread my thighs, begging him."

Angela flushed in confusion. Was she letting herself getting turned on by her friend's description? There was an awkward pause. "I'm sorry," Angela managed, "I mean, I think I do understand, more than you might guess. And tell me again, what did Jeremy say about younger women, about the girls his age?"

"Oh that. Well it was sweet really. He admitted he did enjoy their sexy clothes, and the fun things they did, going out and all. But that they were so shallow, he didn't feel any real connection there. And, well, maybe he was just being nice to his old mum, but he also said that they just weren't woman enough. Their bodies just felt like sticks, not curvy enough or juicy - he actually said that word, juicy - like a full grown woman."

"But you think..."

"Oh, he just hasn't met the right one yet. I'm sure of it. If he lived down here in the week, then he could date and start meeting girls his age and then eventually find the right one."

"And wouldn't you then lose him?"

"Oh of course, Angela. I'm not totally naive. I know this is just a stage. I don't want to stand in his way. I just...just need this for now. I can work through it - and then he'll move on. That's what I want for him, of course, I mean, he is my own son."

Susan stayed overnight. They went out to dinner, got drunk on cocktails and then vodka back at the flat, and strangely didn't really talk about it anymore. It was like a pact that they had sealed between them.

The next evening, when she had arrived home from work and had the flat to herself, Angela emptied the second bottle of wine they had opened the night before into a mug. Still in her work clothes, she sat at the kitchen table for a long time, slowly rotating the mug in her hands. She wondered how the other women at work thought of her. She knew she got on well with them, but maybe she tried too hard to fit in. To act their age. They were mostly working mothers, and the office chat was about juggling kid schedules or complaining about husbands. She did seem to keep bonding with older women, she thought. Was it avoiding competition with younger women? A desire for mentorship?

Since Susan's confession the night before, she had felt like this. Numb. Analytical. Slowly she felt the numbness start to fade, like an anesthetic wearing off after dental work. As it did so, her thoughts started being interrupted by images. Her earlier pictures of Jeremy were being reshot, like updates bouncing in unbidden to her computer, with Susan's new information - that her cute baby boy was now endowed with a cock big enough to awe his mum. And Susan had been so emphatic how that had felt. Filled. Or was it Fulfilled? Either way, her best friend - bigger boned, bigger hipped, a vagina that had surely been stretched by childbirth - if Susan had felt...whatever? How might Angela feel? She had never had anything to complain about from prior lovers, but she wondered now if her insistence to them and herself that Size Doesn't Matter hadn't been in part another way she had accommodated the men in her life, played along with the narrative of the nice girl. She knew she wasn't so shallow as pursue a man just for the size of his cock, but...if that was a bonus? With someone she actually liked, someone who might also be genuinely into her? Filled. Fulfilled. Satiated.

She revisioned Jeremy standing in the kitchen, allowing herself to acknowledge the sizable bulge in his jeans. Dancing at the club, his penis pressing between his hips with the movement. Suddenly she remembered her own state after two hours of dancing, her own cum-slick jeans. What would Jeremy have thought had he known? Was she juicy? Unlike those dry, self-absorbed young women? Or was she too old? Her juiceness...somehow tacky?

And with that thought, the numbness wore off completely, and she was slammed with a wave of nausea. It took her a few moments of reeling with the emotion, half-expecting it to be disgust at the outrageousness of Susan's taboo act, before she knew for certain that it was nothing of the kind. She was reeling with self-recrimination. She had missed out. Chickened out.

Jeremy had taken her out for the evening, dinner and dancing, the best date she could ever remember. And when they had come back home? She had done nothing. No night-cap. No slipping into something more comfortable. No intimate conversation on the sofa.

Where as his mum...

Angela felt a twisting inside. Jealousy consumed her. She tossed the mug into the sink, almost breaking it, and stomped furiously around her flat. She moaned out loud with the pain of it. His mum...

She threw herself down on the couch, pounding the cushions like a toddler with a tantrum.

His mum...had asked about his sexual fantasies. Had picked out her sexiest nightie. Had sat on the t.v. sofa and shown him an incest-themed movie, coaxing him sidelong looks and her own teasing self-touch to join him in a masturbation-fest.

And then fucked him.

Was that bit possible? Actually, really fucked him? Unprotected sex? Somehow that detail made her pause. Angela sat up. It seemed...unlike everything she knew about her friend. She happened to know from an earlier conversation that Susan wasn't on birth control, said there was no point given her minimal dating. And she hadn't mentioned a condom. Why would she have one handy if she hadn't planned to go that far? Jeremy? Angela didn't want to be naive, but it didn't seem like the boy. She tried to remember how much wine she and Susan had drunk at that point of their conversation. Maybe Angela had misheard her, jumped to conclusions from Susan's description of making out on the couch? Had she really said he had actually penetrated her?

Angela shook herself. Whatever the exact details, Susan had clearly crossed a line. A truly taboo line. And Jeremy had been willing. More than willing by the sounds of it. What if Angela herself had taken that risk, if she had walked into her own spare bedroom, what, two nights earlier?