Man of the House

All the characters are above the age of 18. If you have any ideas to contribute for future editions you can write to the author's email.

Precursor

I was born in a quiet neighborhood in LA to a sixteen year old school dropout and her seventeen year old boyfriend. My mother- Jolie had me by accident. Neither my father nor my mother had planned for a child when they were still in school but then, not everything in life goes as per plan.

My dad- Robert Chavez was born to Mexican immigrants and when they heard about what he had done, they kicked him out of the house. My mother too suffered the same fate. They then did the most logical thing young parents do: move out and go carve out a living for themselves. It surprises me that even after years of evolution, us humans still haven't lost our basic instincts. We are similar to cats in the same ratio we are different. They too aren't supported for long by their parents.

Anyways, my parents settled down in Southern Texas where my dad found a job at a shoe-making factory and my mom became a housewife. They lived in a small studio apartment and barely made ends meet. My mother would wait for him each day with love and respect as he was the breadwinner of the house. But with time their affection for each other shrunk. By the time I was six, they constantly fought each other. My mom was timid and shy and thus, never raised her voice too loud but my dad was quite the opposite. He was abusive to such an extent that whenever they fought, I would run towards the kitchen and hide in a cabinet; just to stay away from that clamour.

Years passed and I reached highschool. My dad now didn't even care about us. He already had a couple of mistresses scattered in and around our neighborhood, some as young as nineteen. My mom knew of them and still didn't have the courage to confront him: she was afraid. Afraid that she might lose everything she had if she went against his wishes. This trap affected her psychologically, as I hardly ever saw her laugh. Many times she would have to sleep alone in her bed as her husband was already getting cosy with some teen harlot somewhere. This constant rejection from her own husband must've saturated all the happiness from her life.

By the time I graduated, dad was hardly ever inside the house. He continued having affairs with girls my age and left my mother behind. I felt sad for her, so I did everything in my power to make sure that she felt valued. My mother loved watching movies and we had a cassette player and a small television. Whatever money I could earn from my part-time job at a nearby grocery store, I spent on buying movie cassettes. This way, even if for an hour or two, I could make my mother feel happy. Her eyes would squint whenever she laughed. Her sad eyes would occasionally show joy. This made me immensely happy.

Dad now, only arrived during the weekends, people said he was living with another girl a mile away from our house. No one knew of this mysterious girl. But this wasn't anything known, rather it was expected.

Very soon after my graduation, I landed a job at Microsoft. It wasn't very high paying but at least I could stay closer to mom. My own social life has improved. My girlfriend of five years: Karen, was pregnant but when I asked her to move in with me, she denied, stating that she can't live with my mother and me in the same house. This was a little annoying but it was understandable; no one likes conflict and I knew both their characters: conflict would've been unavoidable.

Revelation

After a month or so, Karen stopped talking to me. I did not know why she was upset with me. I called and texted my apology but she absolutely ignored me. But she had my child in her belly so I had to take some responsibility. Knowing that she was unemployed I gathered that she might have had another panic attack. I knew her very well, she lived with her mother on a lonely street a few blocks south of my house. Worried, I left for her house one weekend.

Her house was a modest modern country home. It had white walls, four small windows, a yellow brick teenslope all inside a small white fence which bordered her modest home. I walked up to her front door and rang the bell. It was a silent October day, the sun was out and no clouds masqueraded the sky, the occasional wind blew from time-to-time. The only audible noise that agitated that natural placidity, was the chirping of crickets. I rang the bell again, and there was no answer. I tried to open the door but it was latched. 'Where could she be', I wondered. 'Has she left me?' Thoughts such as these started to settle in my mind. Puzzled, I left for my house.

I had only crossed her block, and I heard a high-pitched laughter. I recognised it: it was Karen's. I started walking back towards her house but as I was in sight of it, I saw something which broke my heart to pieces. Karen was visibly pregnant (she was seven months in) and she was being assisted by a middle-aged man whom I very well knew was not her father because her parents were divorced. Karen and that man were holding hands and seemed to be having the time of their lives. It was a quiet weekend and nobody was around.

I knew very well within a few minutes that that man was my father. 'So she is the new mistress the whole neighbourhood talks about?' When you are in such a position, you either confront the truth head-on or you just walk away. I was angry, no doubt, but there was a small part in me that was glad. Glad because it finally knew that the woman I loved so dearly was a villainous harlot. 'Thank god, I know now', I said to myself. But I was curious as well. I wanted to know whether that child was actually mine or not.

I followed them. Karen and my father walked inside her house while I quietly stationed myself near her bedroom window.

Foolishly, Karen even opened her window as she said to her partner: "Just need to let some fresh air in. This room smells of funk babe."

'This bitch', I thought. As I stood beside her window I heard them conversate. Karen slowly put her hands around my father's neck. Meanwhile my father's hands slowly grappled her ass.

"Slowly honey, you might hurt our baby!" Karen hissed as if approving of her adultery with her boyfriend's father. I now knew the truth.

The old man grinned, "Don't worry Karen. It will all be alright."

"You won't leave me right like your exes?"

"Nooo! I'm a father now. Don't worry, as long as you make breakfast and take care of the place, you'll always have me at your disposal."

All this while I listened to everything they said to each other. For some reason I was happy because now I was out of something really toxic. 'My own girlfriend betrayed me like this', I said to myself.

After a while I came back home. It was a really bad day for me. But my mother greeted me home with a wide smile.

"Hey! You're back. Where were you? Look, I've cooked you some lunch. C'mon now sit here." She said pointing to the chair beside her.

My mother Jolie had never left me, unlike all the other people in my life. I always regretted the fact that it was because of me that she had to leave her studies and her home. So my life's only purpose now was to make sure that she got back those lost years of happiness and I would do anything to make her smile.

As I sat beside her and chatted, I noticed that she was wearing a white vest and no bra beneath it. But it was so hot I couldn't complain. Her erect nipples were easily visible on the fabric. Below she wore really short shorts. Even after giving birth to me she had remained slim. Possibly due to the depressive life she had led for the past twenty years or so. With only a little work she could pass for my girlfriend. I always had thoughts like these about us. I don't know why. Now even more so, she had become the only woman I loved in my life.

"Hey ma. Let's go for a movie!" Her face instantly lit up. Her wide smile had become a drug which I now craved so much.

Subduing

A few months had passed since that revelation. I had broken off with that bitch I called a girlfriend. My father was gone for good when I told him that if he did not leave us (my mom and I), my mom would press charges relating to domestic violence and that she had a solid witness in me. That did the trick and he left that neighborhood together with my girlfriend.

My life at home also improved. My mother also started to look well. Her mood had improved and now she didn't look dull like she did before. She still stayed at home, cooked for me and waited every evening for me to return home so that we could hang out or watch a movie.

I too was in a much better place. I had been recently promoted and that small hike in salary allowed me to buy gifts for mum. After all, it was the least I could do. Essentially in all ways: I was the man of the house. Mum expected me to do all the manly chores as well. I also fixed up my dad's old wagon and now we could traverse locally in that.

But at times my mother would become sad. She knew that I would have to leave her behind someday and start a family of my own but I assured her repeatedly that I will never leave her. Lately this fear had only grown inside her and no amount of counselling would bring her peace. 'Oh, if only I could tell her that she is all that I will ever have in life', I thought to myself.

So in order to remove this phobia, I planned a trip to Bali. It was beautiful, tropical and romantical. This trip would assure her of my feelings for her, I thought. But what I didn't know was what this trip would mean for both of us. We wouldn't return back as a normal family, rather as something much more.

She was so excited when she heard about it.

She jumped on top of me when I revealed to her the news and that moment when I held her buttocks with my hands and felt her soft breasts squeezing into my chest, was priceless. I held her in my hands for quite some time. I didn't expect this reaction from her but it made me happy. Her body touching mine made me really hard and thank goodness she couldn't feel it or it would've been really awkward. She was kissing all over my neck like an animated lover but due to obvious reasons I couldn't do the same to her.

As the excitement faded she started to weep like a little kitten. I was still holding her and her arms and legs were gripping onto me tightly as she strengthened her grip on my body.

"What happened, why are you crying? Should I cancel the tri..", I couldn't even complete the sentence before she interrupted.

"No! It's not that. I wish only if your father had cared for me like you are, we would've been such a happy family."

I lost it when she mentioned dad. I loosened my grip and let her down. I was angry at what she had said right now to spoil the moment.

I looked at her face. After a very long time I had seen her cry; tears rolling down her cheeks. Her face showed signs of ageing although she was only thirty-eight. Her whole demeanour reminded me of that feminine subordination which once consumed her long years back.

My mood changed at that vision. I was not angry any more, I was sad. She had gone through a lot already and I didn't want to be another abusive man in her life. She was the only thing I cherished, the only person whom I could truly trust. At that moment I saw her more as a partner than a mother; a person whom I could spend time with without worrying about saying something wrong. I soon realised that I had already become the dominant person in our relationship. As I analysed her face, I could feel that she was scared of what I would say or do next. She seemed dependent, almost inferior.

I, acknowledging this, took a more prudent step. I did not exploit this weakness of hers for my own advantage. I needed to make her feel strong, although not independent. I needed her to trust me. See me as someone she could lean on for support. She looked vulnerable and scared.

I slowly walked and sat down on the living room sofa. She followed me obediently and stood right in front of me. I held her hand and made her sit on my lap. She did not resist.

Sitting on my lap, she looked me in the eye knowing not what to do. I had never been so close to her. I could feel her heavy breathing. Her eyes are not making any kind of contact with mine. I felt her soft bum on my thighs, her legs touching mine. I started to slowly wipe off her tears.

"Don't cry mum. I know what you meant but I ask you not to speak of that man again in this house. He left you when you needed him most. He destroyed your life. Don't spoil your mood for someone who wasn't even here when you were pregnant with a child."

She listened calmly, sobbing, from time to time. Suddenly she laid her head on my chest and slowly dozed off. I wanted to take it further, but I needed to stay in control. If I had made a move on her then, the result would be a disaster. I had to wait until our vacation.

As she slept, I stroked her hand slowly and kissed her head. She reacted with a 'hmm' and settled herself in a more comfortable position and dozed off to sleep.

Bali

After a few days we left for Bali. She was really excited and wouldn't stop chatting about it with me whenever we were together. Her smile made me happy. I could spend a million dollars just to see her smile.

Before we left I asked her to shop for something for herself. And after a lot of initial resistance she agreed. I made sure she packed a bikini as going to the beach was something which I had definitely planned out. Additionally I had booked a honeymoon suite but my mother did not know and I had no intention of telling her as well.

It was a 22-hour flight and albeit we were in business class, it was absolutely exhausting. We hit the pillows as soon as we reached our hotel. She was so tired that she didn't even notice that there was only one bed. But we were here. The next ten days would change our lives, forever. While she slept, I slowly positioned myself next to her. For the first time I spooned my own mother. She too grinded her bum on my groin, half asleep, she did not know what she was doing. I wrapped my arms around her and went to sleep.

We woke up at 5pm, having slept for 12 straight hours, we were energised. She did mention the bed issue but when I ignored her question she stopped debating me about it. Bali was hot, as it should be, being a tropical country. Mum wore a t-shirt which was oversized. It easily covered her vaginal area. Her beautifully shaped breasts were clearly imprinted on the fabric of the t-shirt. What I noticed was that she was only wearing her panties below, not even shorts. I thought of complaining but quickly got rid of those thoughts. I mean it's even better for me!

While she brushed her teeth and showered I lay in bed wondering what it would be like to have my mother, Jolie, as my wife. She was only sixteen years older than I was (she had me when she was in high-school) and she looked beautiful for her age. My mind was going in all different directions. A month back I was in no position to go on a 'honeymoon' trip with my own mother. I do not even like older women but there was something in my mother that told me that she was perfect for me. How could I manage this? How I pulled it off I do not know. But one thing I must say......

"Sam, do you want to go and freshen up?" She asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes mum."

Needless to say, I masturbated in the shower thinking about her.

After dinner we took a long walk around the resort. The placid, serene weather made it even more romantic. Just walking beside her made me feel exhilarated. My mind was not calm. I felt like a teenage kid going on his first date. You can hardly control your emotions when you are with someone you are sexually attracted to. I do not know why but I didn't look at my mother as a mother; something had changed now.

"Thank you. For this, I really needed it." She said, breaking the prolonged silence.

"Ahh, don't mention it ma. You needed this break."

"I know this might anger you but it is something I must say. I'm so grateful that you did not turn out like your father." She stopped and stood facing me, making direct eye contact.

"I always wanted to raise a responsible man and I'm glad you've turned out to be such a good person. I am so proud of you. If only I had a husband like you."

"Thanks mom. And you don't need anyone. You have me. I won't leave you for anyone, don't worry about that."

Before she could continue I took a hold of her hand and started to walk. She just held my hand and followed my lead without speaking. Occasionally she would giggle and ask where I was taking her but I didn't reply. I led her into the ocean water. The cold breeze drifts across our bodies. The soothing water flowing through our feet. In the moonlight I held her close to me. Her beautiful skirt fluttered in the slow wind.

We stood there looking at each other. We both knew what was about to happen but I, being the man, had to take the lead.

I pulled her closer to me, stroked her face and without saying a word I kissed her. Now there could be two conclusions and I received the better one: she did not resist and just gave in. Probably due to the lack of sexual appreciation by her ex-husband and the care and devotion she had received from me, she gave in.

I did not break the lip-lock, fearing she might withdraw but I also made sure not to be too enthusiastic. It was slow but pleasurable. My tongue glided into her mouth without any resistance. Albeit she did not feel excited while kissing me, she did make sure that I enjoyed it. Her arms wrapped across me, she slowly pushed her body into my chest. But she was shy, I could just tell. So I grabbed her buttocks and squeezed them slightly. She tried to back off then but I made sure she didn't.

I had successfully fought off the slight resistance she offered. We kissed for about ten minutes before breaking the lip-lock. Our eyes met and from what I could feel looking at her, she felt terrible. She didn't want to kiss me but she couldn't resist. I think I broke her heart a little bit.

She walked back to our hotel room without saying a word. I wished to follow her but I didn't, 'she needs a little space right now', I whispered to myself.

I walked back begrudgingly and with a heavy heart. I had faced my first true hurdle in this conquest. I nearly had it all and I lost it. And while I paced back to my hotel room I wondered, 'Is this it. Have I ruined it all for the both of us? God I don't want it to end like this.'

Well it wouldn't end with that. That night when I slept beside her she did not react negatively. Without saying a word she turned towards me and scooted close to me. Maintaining some distance between us she seemed to tell me that although she did not like what happened today, nothing would change what we have together. And I think she knew that I would try again but I must only when the time was right.

Bali (Corollary)

The next two days flew away like nothing. We did everything together- sight-seeing, jet skiing, scuba diving, massage and What not! We never mentioned the beach incident. I hoped she would be angry but to my surprise she acted as if nothing had happened. She didn't even mind the hotel staff calling us Mr. and Mrs. Robinson (I had adopted my mother's surname and not my father's). She didn't mind when they treated us as a couple which encouraged me to patch up what we had broken and try again.

What I was looking for was an opportunity. But I couldn't find one. This was making me impatient. I could not wait any longer. Either I would confess soon or regret it for the rest of my life.

Her attitude hadn't changed. She was having the time of her life and I didn't want to spoil it. But by now she must've known the purpose of this vacation. I mean the entire setting made it obvious. And she didn't react as if something was wrong. We were sleeping on the same bed for the past three nights and she had said or done nothing to change that. That moment in the beach might have shocked her but she didn't hate it otherwise why would she act all normal again. I knew that she was expecting something from me, now it was upto me to truly express it to her and not let her leave this time.