How to be a Good Son

This is my first time trying to write any fiction since, well, college. I had an idea for a story, then it kind of wrote itself. It's a story about a son and a mother, fantasies, and what it means to be a good son.

This story is kind of a slow burn. If you are looking for a story that jumps from one bed to another, you might be disappointed.

*****

Well, another weekend with no plans. Not how I thought life would go after college.

A little background. I started to stutter at school in the first grade. My teacher even sent a note home, asking if there was anything going on to make me so nervous. Nope. All American family life. One older sister, 2 parents who loved me. After a few months I started to stutter everywhere. Turned out I had fluid in my ears and I was not able to hear the teacher. That's what made me nervous.

They tried tubes in my eardrums, then had to go full on and remove my tonsils and adenoids to try to dry up the ears. Eventually it worked, and my hearing returned to normal. However, my nervousness never left. I even had a period of insomnia. I would lay in bed watching the clock. The later it got, the more nervous I got. Kind of build up on itself. That was second grade. My mom cured that with a clock radio Christmas present. I could fall asleep listening and my mom would stop by and turn it off every night for a couple years.

So eventually my hearing and insomnia were "cured", but my stutter stayed. This was full on, almost impossible to communicate stuttering. In 10th grade I started getting help from a speech counselor (thank you thank you thank you). By the time I made it to college my stuttering was no longer an issue, for the most part. However, I think I missed out on learning how to communicate, never learned the 'rules' on how to be sociable. I didn't have any confidence with any social interactions, especially concerning dating. I was never really bullied as a kid, but I always got the feeling people were not comfortable around me. It made other people nervous wanting me to just spit out whatever I was trying to say. So I never had a lot of friends thru high school. Partly I didn't make friends easily, partly maybe I was a bit of a loner, and you could say very shy. I was very much the 'nice guy' in the back of the room. Never had a girl friend in high school, didn't go to any prom.

One person who always got me was mom. We had many, many heart to heart talks when I was younger. Mom always got my sense of humor, dad would sometimes get a little irritated when I tried to be funny.

When I was in 11th grade my dad had a heart attack and was gone. My sister was still in her senior year. We had to kind of rally around each other. My mom is a teacher, and dad had set her up fairly well, plus life insurance, so we were OK money wise, not great. We were always a close family, seemed like we got really close for a couple years, then college and as they say, life happens.

As much as I didn't like high school, I LOVED every second of college. Best thing I did was join a fraternity. Initially mom was not crazy about the idea, but it ended up being great for me. I have a programmer's (yes, that was my major) sense of humor. Not everyone gets me right off, but eventually most people figure me out. Having a house full of brothers forced to get to know me worked out great. And my college was about 60% women, 40% men. With those odds even I could find a few women to date, but I never found 'the one'. In high school I graduated at about 6', 165 pounds. For some reason I grew 3 more inches in college. So I ended up a 6" 3', blond, blue eyes, in shape 200 pound college graduate with limited self confidence or social skills.

Ok, so I graduate, get a programming job (eventually), get an apartment with a roommate and get on with life. So, life is good. Bring on the women. OK, any time. Here I am. Hello. Not happening. I did try.

My job was across the state from mom, but only 40 minutes from my older sister. Karen was a year older than me, and also had the job and roommate thing going after college. Karen is a very focused person. At 22 she had decided it was time to find her soul mate for life, and I could tag along for the ride. So I would stay with her some weekends and we would go out on the hunt together. I was actually with Karen the night she met Harry at the Holiday Inn bar. They really hit it off, were married 9 months later (not that she 'had to'). 3 years later they seem really happy, 2 kids already. Funny thing is I'll bet neither has gone back to a dance bar since, not really either's thing. They just got really lucky, one of those things.

OK, the problem for me, as I see it. I never learned the whole social thing. Going up to a women in a bar was never going to work, Dating sites. Well, I am 6' 3", blond, but apparently not model material. I got very few hits. Seems like women out of school are looking up. Girls my age are looking to find a 30 something with the nice car and summer home, not a snot nose kid full of school loans. I did find a couple of different women to date, mostly in their 30s with kids. Probably desperation on their part. There were a few women I worked with, but none in a position to want to date me.

Back to my weekend, Thursday night actually. I'm 24 now, still can't find anyone to date. My roommate was going off to a music festival with some of his high school friends that weekend. Not my type of music, so I was on my own. As much as I see myself as a semi loner, I didn't like to be 'alone'. Time to call mom and see if she was going to be around. Actually, mom was almost always around. The beginning of the call is always the worst part, I know what's coming.

"Hi mom. Just thought I give you a call, see what's up this weekend."

"Let me guess. Nothing going on and you need some home cooking and laundry done. Honey how are you ever going to find a women coming home so often? You need to be out there fighting."

"Mom, you know I never change my clothes, just use them till they wear out and then throw them away. No laundry that way. But, home cooking does sound good. And the 'good fight' is wearing me out. "

"Sure, come on home. Nothing going on for me either, as usual. And bring your laundry."

That last part was kind of an inside joke for mom and me. Even in college I would do my laundry last thing getting ready to go home for breaks. It's something I can do, no need to put it on her, so I never brought any to her. I am, theoretically, an adult after all. I will stop and get some beer and wine on the way. It about 2 hours driving to get home.

"OK, I'll pack tonight and leave from work tomorrow. Should be home around 7:30."

"OK honey, see you tomorrow."

A little about my mother, Tracy. 46, a few pounds more than her marriage weight, guessing now at about 150, 5' 4". With a beautiful face, and amazing personality. I can only guess at her bra size, I just never looked hard at her that way to find out. Not huge, but noticeable. Since dad died she seemed to let herself go a little. She also had a super short hairstyle, not very feminine. Probably easier to take care of, but also kind of giving up in my book.

Got to mom's and she already had dinner ready, ravioli with meat sauce. She still works for a living, so she doesn't have time to make the pasta or sauce from scratch on a Friday night, but she does a great job enhancing the readymade stuff. Great by me. Served with bread and one of the bottles of wine I brought. I put my bag in the guest (my old) bedroom, put the beer and other wine away and sat down to eat.

"OK big boy. Give me the latest lowdown on your dating scene."

And there goes another 20 minute lecture about what a great catch I am and how I would have women all over me if I just put a little more effort into it. I truly love my mom but she is kind of becoming a one note recording.

I tried a different tact.

"Mom, you know I'm color blind. Nothing I can do about it. Do you think if I just tried a little harder I could tell red from green? It's not a matter of trying, it's a matter of not having skills. Another example. I play golf here and there, started in college. Some days I go to the range to try to fix my swing. After a large bucket of balls I'm hitting the ball worse than when I started. All I do is reinforce bad habits. Dating is like that. I don't have the skills for it. Trying harder just makes me more pathetic. You can't see it because I'm your favorite son, we do great together, and I'm not trying to date you. Going to bars is just depressing. I've tried dating aps but they don't work for me either."

"So that's it, you just give up? Karen found a husband. I wonder if Karen could give you the lessons you need."

"Yep, was there that night, 3 years ago. I remember being shot down twice just asking women to dance. Does Karen even still know what's going on out there? It's just harder for guys. Women seem to just be there, they get to control who they like and don't like. I've watched hot women at a bar shoot down 8 or 10 guys in a row before even giving one guy a dance, yet alone letting someone take them home. Which reminds me, change of subject. It's coming up on 8 years since dad passed. When are you getting back in the hunt? I loved dad too, but you are still of dating age. "

"I'll bet it was a young hot woman shooting those guys down. Believe it or not, I did tried dating a while back. You think it's easier being a woman? Try being an out of shape 40 something woman with limited prospects. All the guys my age that are reasonably successful and decent looking are looking for women in their 20s and 30s."

"Mom, you saying we are both SOL? Enough of this, just going around in circles, again. Lets clean up, start a movie, and drown our sorrows. We'll figure it out tomorrow. Well, some tomorrow."

After cleanup we got to our set movie positions. Beer and wine at hand on the coffee table with mom and me on the couch. I like to lay back and let mom lay on me with her back on my chest. Sometimes she curls up on her side, on my chest. Seems a little intimate but we have been watching movies like this since high school. I think we both just enjoy the human contact. I'll wrap my arms around her middle, with a blanket over us if it's cold.

Mom was letting me control the tv tonight. Started going thru some movies in Netflix and I stopped on Summer of 42.

"A good movie. What do you think mom?"

"I I've heard of it, but I don't think I've ever seen it. Any good?"

"Yep, just said it was. This is tonight's feature flick. Gotta make any preparatory runs before I start?"

"I'm good."

I really do love this movie. For the most part it's about a group of horny teenagers on a resort island for a summer during WWII trying to get laid. The payoff is at the end where Hermie and the (very) new widow do it. Hermie is supposed to be 15 in the movie, so it's verging on seducing a minor. During the scene, Hermie is trying to console a young woman who just found out her husband died in the war. The consoling turns into an incredibly tender moment where the widow takes Hermie into her bedroom. She just needs someone at that moment, and Hermie has been after her the whole movie. The only sound is crashing waves in the background. No sex scenes, no sex sounds, but you know what is going on. Next morning the widow is gone, off to some other life. Kind of a fantasy for me. In my book way more erotic than anything on porn hub.

"Well?"

"OK I guess. A bunch of silly teenagers, and that bit at the end made me kind of uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable, why is that?"

"Well, from a mother's perspective, that woman was taking advantage of the boy. Then she disappears. That would that leave a mark on a young boy."

"Mom, do you realize that exact situation is every teenage boy's fantasy? In fact, this movie was based on a real experience of the writer. He thought enough about it to write the story all these years later. Eventually the writer caught up with the woman. She knew about the book and movie, and was afraid she had somehow scarred him for life. He was just thrilled to finally meet up with the woman who had given him such a great memory, and had hoped her life had turned out ok. "

"So doing an older woman is one of your fantasies?"

"Well, add in the emotion, the setting and the sound of waves crashing then yes, very much does it for me. Doing a 50 year old hooker in a bordello, not so much. Don't you have any fantasies?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about my fantasies."

"But you have them?"

"Of course, just not going to tell you about them. "

"Doesn't seem fair to me. Anyway it's still early. Let's find another movie, and I thought we were supposed to be drowning our sorrows."

"OK, I'll find something else to watch, you get more wine. The half bottle left from dinner is gone."

So I got two beers for me and opened the other wine for mom. She picked out some rom com, probably trying to cheer herself up. Then it was back to the movie watching position. I was curious about mom's secret fantasies, so I started refilling her class every chance I got, hoping to loosen her up a little. She ended up finishing off most of the bottle by the end. It was more than she normally would have for a movie night.

"So, what did you think?"

"Was easy enough to like, no fantasy material though. Two rich beautiful people find themselves in love, then out of love and then back in love. Does not really relate to our lives. How did you like the wine I brought? I didn't taste the second bottle. Not much of a wine drinker and it's kind of a mystery to me what's good."

"I liked it just fine. Did you want any, or should I just finish the bottle? I'm not driving tonight."

"Go for it mom. While you're at it, can we just sit and talk for a while? I'm a little movied out."

"OK mom, back to your fantasies. We can play 20 questions, or you can just tell me. It can't be that weird. Besides you can't really pick what gets you hot. Something either does, or doesn't. You always said we could talk about anything. Well, this is anything."

"Well, I suppose, since you asked so nicely, and got me half looped. This might end up being TMI. Your dad and I had a great sex life. Produced 2 great kids. But I think he was a little like you in some ways. He was just a really nice guy. Sometimes a woman likes a little danger in her life, a little of the bad boy. Course I know nice guys are best in the long run. Dependable, supportive, stable. All good. Just sometimes, I was missing a little........ excitement."

"You mean you wanted it rough? Painful?"

"Well not painful, exactly. More like being swept away, out of my control. Dangerous, but not really dangerous. It's silly, more of a feeling or concept than anything."

"Mom, don't answer this if I'm going too far. You're kind of beating around the bush, is your fantasy to be, well, raped?"

Mom just sat and thought for a while, mulling it over.

"Well, I guess so. Of course a fantasy is one thing, real life is something completely different. When I was with your father, all his other good qualities were more than enough to keep my 'darker side' in check. Now I spend a lot of time here, alone, and the mind wanders."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought. I don't think it's that uncommon for some women to have rape fantasies. Unfortunately that's a little hard to fulfill in real life without crossing a line better left alone. Of course, my fantasy of doing a beautiful older woman, on a beach, with emotion and surf, for me, is probably just about as unlikely."

So mom thought I was a nice guy, maybe too nice? For women? And mom had a 'dark side'? Kind of got me thinking. Goes back to the age old dating question of why women go for the 'bad boy' when they know long term a stable 'good guy' is the better bet. As we were laying there contemplating the conversation, the wine finally took over and mom fell asleep. I was comfortable, and happy enough to stay right on the couch with mom. I reached over and turned out the light on the table, curled up with mom and went to sleep, eventually. It really did feel nice to be next to a warm body, even if (or especially if) it was mom.

We woke up next morning, both of us still on the couch. No illicit touching, no morning wood. Just two people untangling. We were both a little stiff after spending the night like that. Not the first time we ended up that overnight on the couch, but mom would have normally gone to bed earlier. Just the wine working I guess. We had a nice day on Saturday. I even took mom out to eat that night. Nothing fancy, but she deserved to go out once in a while. After dinner we watched another movie. Mom had had some wine at, and after dinner, so she wasn't going to last much longer. When the movie ended, she surprised me.

"Jason, I want to go to bed, this couch kills my back by morning. But, I'm really enjoying having you next to me, so I don't want to move. Can you think of a solution to our dilemma?"

"I know what you're asking. Are you sure? Is that the wine talking?"

"Jason, I'm not asking you to fuck me, just lay with me, in my bed, over night, tonight, with me."

"Language mom! Impressionable youth here. Are you planning to rape me overnight, and are there two of you asking?"

"That's my fantasy, not yours. You would have to rape me. Besides, how can a mother rape a grown man? Especially someone your size? Not possible."

"Well, I don't hear any waves, so I guess my fantasy is shot too. Sure mom, I'd love to go to bed with you. "

So we got up, went our separate ways to get ready for bed, and met up again in mom's room. Mom had on a long t-shirt, and I think no bra. Don't know about panties. Didn't really want to think about panties. Mom's panties. Why do I keep thinking about mom's panties? I just had my boxers on.

Mom laid down first on her side. I turned out the light and got behind her, spooning position. Felt really nice. Warm, comfortable, and definitely intimate. I was not really sure where mom was going with this. Did she really just want to sleep, or something more? Has all this talk of fantasies awakened something in her?

OK, it's a little perverted, but I had to find out, and I was definitely kind of feeling the moment. Mom was, obviously, a woman. A beautiful, if full figured woman. A great person. Was I attracted as more than a son? Was she attracted as more than a mother? I was actually getting a little turned on, just thinking about the possibilities. I could feel my member start to take notice. Not really my fault. I did, however, move in a little tighter to her backside, to see if she noticed, or cared. Testing the waters.

"Jason, get that thing off me, or you go back to your room."

Simple, direct, and to the point. Just sleeping. Good enough to know.

"Sorry mom, it kind of has a mind of its own. Something about going to bed with a beautiful woman."

Mom sighed, then turned over facing me, then turned me around so she could spoon me from behind with her arm hanging over my chest.

I know mom, like any normal mother, just wants the best for me. I already have a job and independence. I need a wife, and probably kids for me to be happy in her eyes. In my eyes, now with dad being gone, mom needs to find someone to keep her going, not just the visits from Karen and I. Even as good as mom and I are together, us being 'together' was really not an option, it does not solve either of our long term needs. Even if mom did want to, you know, be with me. But, in the short run, well, we both have other, shorter term needs. I also know mom would never act on any incestuous thoughts she may have on her own.

After a few minutes I could hear her breathing easing as she fell into sleep. But I couldn't right away that night. Mom has needs and erotic desires, apparently, that would never happen in real life. My mind was racing with possibilities, questions, assumptions. Could I make mom happy? Was mom just kidding about me attacking her? Was there any way for her to act out her fantasy? Has mom given up on ever being with someone again, or could I break her out of her shell? Does she secretly want to do more with me? Why was I in her bed tonight? How normal is it for a 24 year old to sleep with her mother? When was the last time mom got laid? If I planned something, incestuous, was that more for mom or for me? Why were there so many questions I could not, in polite company, ask mom? My mind always went this way, overanalyzing everything, looking at all sides at once. But, a plan was formulating. A horrible, evil, stupid, illegal, possibly/hopefully wonderful plan. A plan I could not ask mom's permission ahead of, or get her views on. One way or another it was going to be exciting. I was going to be a bad, dutiful, grateful and giving son. I'm going to rape my mother. Gotta think this thru.