Mom's ClosetbyTx Tall Tales©
This is an entry for the 2017 April Fool's Day Contest. It's a playful bit of trickery that works out well for all concerned. I hope you enjoy it.
It had been almost two months since I'd been home. At first, I'd tried to make it every weekend. School was only forty minutes away and I knew Mom needed the support. But after seven consecutive weeks of listening to her bitching and moaning about how miserable her life was, and bad mouthing Dad, I'd had enough.
Sure Dad probably deserved most of it. He had waited until the day I left for college, the last of us kids to leave the house, to surprise Mom with divorce papers, leaving that same day.
Admittedly, it wasn't much of a surprise. It hadn't been a loving home for more than a year and I'd heard the arguments, even when they tried to keep me out of it. Hell, my bedroom was right next to theirs and they weren't very quiet when they got into it.
Mom accused Dad of cheating, which he denied. He accused Mom of being a frigid bitch and was tired of only having sex twice a year. She called him insensitive; she was going through that 'time.' He called her ... well, you get the idea.
My parents were pretty well off and he left Mom in good shape. The house was paid off, he was paying her steady alimony and she was getting a share of the profits from his business. He'd also made sure that my college education was covered and then some. I'd be able to get a doctorate with the amount of money in my trust fund.
Still, it was pretty harsh the way he did it and I could understand some of where Mom was coming from, but not 24 hours a day every weekend. I needed a little stress relief from my classes, not this.
So I'd skipped a weekend. Then three. When I did go home, she was absolutely intolerable. To hear her tell it, I was almost as bad as Dad and my brother and sister were worse. How could she not see it was her driving us away?
On top of that, she was starting to let herself go. Mom was never a raving beauty, but she took pretty good care of herself and always dressed nice. I could swear she'd put on twenty pounds the last time I visited and she wore nothing but baggy sweats and an over-sized t-shirt the whole time I was there. When I tried to get her to go out for dinner, she refused. I didn't get it.
But she was still my mom. So I was headed home again, determined to suffer through it. Three days, if I could stomach that much.
I cut the engine on my old Harley, before rolling silently up the driveway. Hearing the engine of Dad's motorcycle drove her a little crazy, so I tried to minimize the damage. I opened the garage and parked my bike next to her car, entering the house through the kitchen.
I needn't have bothered with the noise. Friday night, seven o'clock, and the house was empty. I breathed a sigh of relief, that I wouldn't have to hear her bellyaching for a little while longer, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and headed for the study. I'd missed my XBOX and figured a little me time was in order.
I'm not sure how long I played, but when I took the headset off, I could hear Mom arguing with someone. Killing the game, I walked out to see what was going on. It only took a few seconds to hear it was Aunt Carol.
"Never again, Winnie. God, I feel so disgusting!"
"Why? You didn't do hardly anything. All you did was watch and make sure nobody came in the door, except for that one handjob," Mom snapped.
"Don't remind me. Seeing you on your knees, doing what you were doing, God, it was so gross, so filthy, and at the same time - well, you know. You have to stop doing this. It's not safe, and I can't keep tagging along to be your bodyguard. I'm not going to let you drag me down with you. I can't."
Knees? Doing what she was doing? Bodyguard? What the fuck!
Mom chuckled. "Admit it, Carol. You were ready to blow that guy. You know you were. If I hadn't looked over, I bet you would have had him halfway down your throat."
"I ... I can't, Winnie. I don't want to. I won't be put in that position again."
"I've gotta do something, Carol. I'm going crazy. It's the only thing that makes me feel like a woman."
"Then go out, hit a bar, go dancing, just not this!" My aunt was getting pretty loud. Hell, I don't think I'd ever heard her yell before.
"Yeah, that worked so well. Who wants an old fat woman? You remember what happened at Whiskey Row?"
I was standing in the hallway and peeked around the corner. They were sitting on the couch together, sharing a bottle of wine, facing the TV away from me. I squatted down and leaned around the corner so I could hear better. Probably unnecessary, the way they'd been yelling at each other.
Aunt Carol sighed, leaned over and hugged Mom. "They're not all like that. You've got to keep trying. There are still good men out there."
Mom shook her head. "Be real. If you can't find one, as pretty as you are, what are my chances? I fucked up my marriage, and now I'm going to be alone the rest of my life. I'm a dried up prune, with the sex appeal of a burlap sack."
"Stop that!" Aunt Carol snapped. "So you've let yourself go a little. Go to the gym with me, we'll get you back to looking gorgeous and desirable, you'll see. You can stop this insanity of going to Josephine's, and find someone worthwhile."
Josephine's? Shit! There was only one Josephine's as far as I knew. A run down adult shop with fifty-cent video booths in back, each with its own glory-hole. It was a popular place with the truckers next door at Love's. It was also popular with drunken teenagers, as I knew too well.
"Be real, Carol," Mom said. "I was never gorgeous. The only man that desired me was my husband, and I lost him. I should have just bought a ten pound tub of KY and let him fuck me."
"Or maybe seen a doctor and got on some meds," Aunt Carol offered.
"Now you tell me. A little late, don't you think?"
"Well if I'd known, maybe I could have said something. But nooo, you were always so private, claiming everything was hunky-dory. I'm your sister, damn it! You could have told me!"
"Tell you what? It hurts to fuck my husband? My dried up cunt is like sandpaper? The only thing we did anymore was his weekly blowjob, and even then it only succeeded half the time? Is that what you wanted to hear, my sorry excuse for a sex life?"
"Maybe I could have helped?" Aunt Marie offered.
"Right. You could be my stunt double. Show up for all the sex scenes."
Aunt Carol stood up, and I scurried back around the corner. "You know that's not what I meant." She heaved a huge sigh. "I need to go home and take three showers. You and I are going to the gym tomorrow, and I'm not going to take no for an answer."
"No, I really don't feel like it," Mom said.
"I don't care what you feel like. We're going, and that's that! You owe me, Winnie, big time. Two hours in that place, seven different cocks, geez, the smell alone was enough to make me hate myself."
"But I don't have ..."
I didn't want to get caught spying on them, especially after that conversation, so I slipped down the hall and headed out the back door. I stood beside the garage for a few minutes until I saw Aunt Carol drive away. Then I waited another half hour or so, getting caught up on my social media, before hitting the garage door opener.
I reentered the house from the garage after a suitable delay. "Mom?"
"Is that you, Randy?"
"Who else? I came home for the weekend, I hope that's alright."
"Run out of laundry?"
I walked into the living area and saw her. She didn't look good. The twenty pounds she'd put on must have been at least thirty, and she'd already been a bit pudgy. Her hair was a mess. No makeup, grubby sweats and shirt. Then again, I guess you don't have to look your best when the only part of you that your 'dates' can see is your mouth.
She walked toward me, arms open, and I let her hug me. It was tough. I wanted to puke. She smelled like cum. My Mom, the glory-hole cum-slut. Great.
"No, no laundry. I missed you, and there are no classes on Monday - free day to prep for mid-terms." Shit, why did I say that? I could have escaped Sunday. Damn it!
"Did you really miss me?" she asked pitifully, still clinging to me.
"I did." I realized that she was drunk. Terrific. "Nobody cooks like you."
She looked up into my face and gave me a smile. I'm pretty sure those were cum stains on her shirt. Wonderful.
"It's nice to see you too," she said. "I think I'm gonna take a shower, I feel kind of dirty."
Wow. What a surprise. You suck off seven strangers and feel 'kind of' dirty?
"Go ahead. You want me to do anything about dinner, Mom?"
"I'll whip up something for you afterward. I'm not really hungry," she said.
I guess a diet of cum must be more filling than I thought.
It was difficult making it through the evening, knowing what I knew, but at least she was in a slightly better mood. I think she only bad-mouthed Dad a dozen times or so.
Still, I begged off early to go to bed. It was difficult being around her, thinking about what she was doing, the things she said.
I lay in bed for hours, unable to sleep. It was warped, I know, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. My Mom, behind a glory-hole, sucking random cocks. Jesus! Dad had left her mostly because of the sex and the constant bickering. Now she was blowing strangers by the handful.
Aunt Carol was in my thoughts as well, standing beside Mom, watching her, while cock after cock appeared through the holes in the booth. Her hand reaching out, grabbing one, examining it, licking it, tentatively sucking it.
I sure had a fucked up family.
* * * *
I heard yelling on the other side of the wall. It reminded me of the old days.
"Get your ass up, Winnie! I told you, we're going to the gym," Aunt Carol was shouting.
"And I told you I didn't want to. Maybe Monday, alright?" Mom argued.
"No. We're going. You're going. If you're not out of that bed and in the shower in the next five minutes, I'm going to tell your son just what his mother has been up to next time he shows up. If he ever shows up again."
"You can't!" Mom shrieked. "He's ..." Then their voices dropped to an indistinguishable murmur. I guess Mom remembered I could probably hear everything they were saying.
I hopped out of bed, threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, ran my fingers through my hair, and headed out to the hall. I was in the kitchen making coffee when Aunt Carol appeared.
"So the prodigal son decides to finally come home," she said snarkily.
"Leave it alone, Aunt Carol. I'm here, listening to her endless whining and moaning, so don't give me any shit."
I kind of liked the look on her face. I had never talked to her like that before, but I wasn't about to let her guilt me into anything, not when she was Mom's glory-hole partner.
I thought she'd tear into me, but she didn't. She leaned against the counter, quiet for a moment. "Listen, Randy, I know it's tough. Your mother's going through a difficult time. She's bitter and unhappy. We have to help her, not abandon her. Please. She's your mother. She loves you more than anything. She thinks you're all she has left. Try to help, alright?"
I was about to say something about helping like she was helping. Taking Mom out for her cum fix. But the look on Aunt Carol's face was too concerned, too sad.
"I'm trying, okay? I'm here. Three day weekend and I'm not studying, not going to parties, not trying to get laid. I'm here, at home, with her. I'm trying."
She came over and gave me a big hug. It was nice. Aunt Carol was seven years younger than Mom and hot. Of course, the words from last night and my stray thoughts came to mind. Aunt Carol, on her knees in that dirty booth, helping Mom suck off a long line of cocks. It was disturbing enough for me to start to get hard. When Aunt Carol kept hugging me, it was inevitable that she would notice.
She backed off a little, looking at me in surprise. Oddly enough, she kept her lower body pressed against mine, my hard cock poking her in her belly. "I, uh, guess this is a pretty big sacrifice for you. Feels like you really do need to go out and get laid."
I could feel myself blushing. "Sorry."
She grinned, wiggled her hips a bit, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Don't be. I'm flattered." Her hands drifted slowly down my chest as she pulled away. "I'm taking your mother out to get her some workout clothes, and sign her up at the gym. We'll be gone most of the morning. Try to be gentle with her, alright. I'd appreciate it a lot. I'll owe you one." Then she gave me a wink that had my hardon doing the macarena.
She reached down and tapped my erection. "Now put that away before your mother sees it. That's all we need."
Yeah, I imagine so. We don't need cum-slut Mom cutting a hole through my shorts so she can get her daily cum ration.
Of course, I didn't say that. I was still a little stunned. I nodded and gave her another big hug, making sure she could feel how hard I was. "Alright. I'll do my part. And I think it's great that you're trying to help her. You're the best." I leaned down and planted a solid kiss on her. No tongue, but not gentle either. I liked the way she blushed. She wasn't the only one who could tease.
* * * *
They'd been gone about half an hour and I was in the shower beating off when I lost it. That's all I can say. I completely lost any vestige of sanity I had. I just couldn't get my mind off of what Mom was doing. What Aunt Carol was supporting. Not to mention how risky and dangerous it was. It's warped, I know, but I thought, well, forget what I thought. At least I had a plan, and I was going to do something.
I spent the next few hours in the closet, working on my plan. It was sick, twisted, wrong, and driving me crazy. Every time I heard a noise outside, I jumped, worried that I'd get caught. Dad had taken most of his power tools, making my job a little more difficult than I had anticipated. Even so, by noon I had finished my efforts. I looked it over, feeling an obscene sense of pride, and a whole lot of shame. I also had a seven inch spike trying to punch a hole through my zipper.
I checked the electronics for the umpteenth time. Verified everything was working on my laptop. Tested all my controls, until I was completely satisfied I'd done all I could.
Then I went down to the living room to wait.
* * * *
They didn't get back until after two. They brought leftover Chinese food with them. Too much veggies for my taste, besides, I'd already made myself a sandwich.
At least they seemed to be in a good mood, even if Mom was draggin' ass. She gave Aunt Carol a hug and said she was going to shower and nap. She looked like she needed both. I guess they hadn't showered at the gym. I got a brief kiss from Mom and found myself inhaling deeply, trying to see if she smelled like cum if she'd been out sucking cocks again. Nothing but the acrid smell of sweat.
Aunt Carol gave me a look and nodded to the door.
"I'm gonna see Aunt Carol out," I told Mom, as she headed toward her bedroom.
Outside the door, my aunt turned, and I almost ran into her. I grabbed her so I wouldn't knock her over. She grinned.
"Enough Romeo. I did what I could. I'm gonna keep on her about the gym and eating better. I'm doing my part. I need you to step up now and deal with the mood and attitude. You're the only one that stands half a chance of getting her head on straight. She's down on herself right now, so you need to supply the pick-me-up. Be nice to her, and get her thinking about good things, not the past. Can you do that?"
I was still holding her, and she wasn't pulling away. "I'll try. I promise."
She nodded, then reached up, pulled my head down and gave me a kiss, including just a hint of tongue. "Do your best. You won't be sorry."
We had a surprisingly nice day, Mom and I. I helped with a few issues around the house, and she made us dinner. We shared a bottle of wine watching a NetFlix movie. Sat beside each other on the couch. We talked a little, and God strike me dead if she didn't avoid mentioning Dad once all evening.
It was good but had me thinking twice about my plans for the evening. Then I'd look at her mouth and think back to what she'd been doing.
"I'm going to go to bed early. I'm aching all over," Mom said.
"Me too. Have a good night." I gave her a quick hug, then made a dash for my bedroom.
Mom's closet shares a wall with mine. I'd cleared that space out, and had my area set up. I brought up the laptop and turned on the webcam, which now resided inside Mom's closet. I also opened the new portal between our closets. It was about four inches in diameter, padded around the edges, and crotch high. Exactly my crotch high.
I was trembling, scared to death. What I was doing was insane, and if it didn't work out, I'd be in deep shit until I was eighty. But I had to do something. Something!
I took a deep breath, put on my Darth Vader helmet, and turned on the voice changer. Then I started speaking, slowly repetitively, nothing but her name.
"Winnie." The bass in my artificially modified voice felt deep enough to shake the walls.
The webcam spotted her looking into the closet. She had an umbrella in her hand like a baseball bat. "Who's there?" she hissed.
"Put down the umbrella, Winnie," I said, the words coming out deep and slow.
"Is that you, Randy? If this is a joke it isn't funny."
"Don't talk. Obey," I snapped. "Put down the umbrella!" I had my fingers crossed. This had to work. It had to!
I breathed a deep sigh of relief as she set it aside. "What's going—"
"Do Not Talk!"
She stood there, shaking in her nightgown.
"Very good, Winnie. Approach."
She moved forward slowly, and her eyes opened wide. She finally saw the setup I'd made for her.
"On your knees, Winnie. Don't talk, Obey."
"Don't Talk! Obey! On your knees, cum-slut!"
She almost lost it, I could see her shaking. Then she moved forward, in front of the hole between our closets, and knelt down on the little padded platform I'd made for her.
"What do you—"
"Don't talk. Suck." This was it. The moment of truth. I poked the hardon I'd been stroking through the hole and waited.
She was looking at it, obviously still in shock.
"Don't talk. Don't think. Suck. Suck." Please, Mom, I fervently prayed.
She reached out and I felt her hand on my cock for the first time that I could remember. "Suck," I said firmly.
Her eyes looked up at the small grate I'd installed, through which I spoke. "I can't," she whispered.
"You can. You have. You will. This is what you want. What you need. Don't think. Don't talk. Suck. Open that slutty mouth and suck!"
Her hand was moving, slowly stroking me. I could see she was looking at it.
I spoke softer. "Suck, beautiful. Suck."
She leaned forward, and pressed her lips against my shaft, peeking up at the grate before licking me, once.
"Yesss," I said. "Suck. Suck like only you can. Suck, my lovely cum-slut. Suck."
That was all she needed. She started sucking. And damn she was good. It was obvious she enjoyed it. It had me wondering what Dad's problem was. She was doing this for him every week?
"Suck, my sweet. Suck it good. Suck it dry. Suck."
Mom's sucking wasn't some non-interested, mechanical act. She sucked gently, bobbing her head until she took me deeper, harder. Her hand tracked her motions until she was playing, licking my shaft, sucking on my balls, kissing the head. Back inside her mouth, her tongue would tease and torture, until I was abruptly deep in her throat, feeling the pulsing around the head. Then she'd mix it up again.
It only took her about five minutes to get me off. She was phenomenal. I didn't warn her, that wasn't my job. I was only there to provide what she obviously needed. When I came, she didn't hesitate to keep sucking me through my finish.