My Son's Baby

"Nothing but junk and cheap shit in there right now, though," he said, looking me over. "Looks like I'm finally gonna have to follow your advice and get some real food."

Before the sun went down, we went out to the local store and got some things we would need, from food to hygiene and feminine products. After we returned, I was exhausted and just elected to finish off some of the pizza Carlos had in his fridge. He, in the meantime, settled in to watch some television.

Despite what we'd done before, the very act which had gotten us both into this mess, the two of us were still in the mindset that it had been a one-time thing. Neither of us felt like lovers.

"That said," I told him...holding down what felt like pure ice inside my throat, "I appreciate what you're doing for me. And, I know you have...needs.

He rose an eyebrow at me. That inquiring gaze making my chest pound tighter, my lips struggling to properly form what I was trying to say. "So, if you...if you ever feel a need...um..."

"What? I can fuck you?"

My body shivered, hearing Carlos say those words to me again. But to my surprise, it wasn't in fear...but instead debased, depraved excitement.

And then, I nodded.

"Mama... isn't that what got us into this mess?"

"I'm not saying you have to! But...I'm already pregnant, so it's okay..."

"I'm not going to take advantage of you, Mama. You're in a very bad spot right now. You don't have to degrade yourself like this."

"It's not degrading," I said to him. My tan cheeks beginning to redden a bit. "LIke I said, I liked it...so, I don't mind. I'm not saying that we need to make it a constant thing. I just want you to know that you can ask me, any time. I won't hesitate."

Despite what I'd promised, Carlos didn't so much as look at me in that way during those first few weeks. His dorm was surprisingly roomy, as I was able to set up a makeshift bedroom in the "study room"-a soundproof space the students were afforded to be able to do their schoolwork in peace. By the time I'd moved in, Carlos had already put a full-size bed with a comfortable mattress and clean linens for me to sleep on. He'd moved all of his books and other school materials into his own bedroom, but I told him he shouldn't hesitate to use mine if he needed the quiet. After all, I was the intruder.

Things went like this for weeks. Carlos went through his normal routine, and I spent my days looking through wanted ads and filling out applications. I had always relied on my contacts and networking to find work before, but my ex-husband had made that difficult and living in a new city made it impossible.

At home, I did what I could to help-de facto settling into the role of a pseudo-housewife. Carlos had both work and school to worry about, so when I wasn't looking for a job, I made taking care of the dorm my temporary occupation.

It was hot in that apartment, so sometimes I could only handle wearing a t-shirt and maybe some leggings, and it wouldn't be long until I'd work up a sweat. The thin, flimsy material of my top would sometimes cling to my body or even turn translucent thanks to the layers of perspiration.

Carlos clearly took notice. I used to see him stare at me when I bent over to clean, and I often caught him snatching a glance whenever I'd step out of the shower. It was obvious that my body still turned him on just as much as before.

Whenever our eyes met, he'd quickly turn away in embarrassment. But I would always smile welcomingly.

After all, my offer still stood.

Finally, Carlos came home and it was clear that he'd weathered a really tough day at school and work. His eyes were so drained, his body slouched and dejected. I tried my best to greet him with a smile, and ask if there was anything I could do. He turned to look at me, his eyes traveling down from figure all the way from my tight blouse to my shapely leggings. After pausing one moment to look into my eyes and make a decision, he just told me he wanted me naked on the bed. Just like that. No seduction. No haggling.

I just nodded, stripped off my clothes, and laid myself on his bed. My heart pounded as Carlos stripped himself naked as well, and I spread my legs to invite him on top of me. I relished the weight of his body on top of mine as he entered me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips to reaffirm the fact that I wanted to enjoy this as much as he did.

He fucked me for twenty minutes and shot his seed in my pussy for the second time. He filled me up, and by the time he pulled out, my cunt was leaking his warm juices right from the brim. This, too, I allowed myself to take full pleasure in. After all, there was no harm in it now, was there?

The RA was sympathetic to our situation (he had no idea that I was Carlos's mother-we only said that I was homeless and pregnant with his child), so he allowed me to stay for as long as he could. But it was understood that I needed to constantly search for a job and my own place as a condition for staying. I agreed, and spent every single day looking for work. Unfortunately, not many people wanted to hire a forty-year-old pregnant woman, so I had to rely on food stamps and other assistance. I had also started a wrongful termination suit against my old job to have my benefits and severance pay restored, and possibly win a settlement for my mistreatment...but my lawyer was working pro bono unless he won the case, which meant that I was pretty low on his list of priorities. Furthermore, my old boss was clearly dragging his feet on the subject, so it looked like it could be months before anything happened on that front...if at all.

In the meantime, my belly grew more and more, which had the added benefit of making my clothes ever so much tighter. As an unintended effect, Carlos seemed to enjoy the sight and made "use" of me more and more frequently. He was a good lover, and I was lonely, so we both made it our mission to enjoy the situation to its fullest. More than a few times, I stayed naked-or close to it-to coerce him to fuck me when I needed it...not that I had to try very hard to convince him.

It provided a strange context on our new relationship, and the frequent sex had the added benefit of backing up my cover story of just being Carlos's "ex". I was quite a loud lover, meaning that anyone immediately adjacent, or even walking past the dorm room, no doubt knew exactly what we were getting up to when we disappeared inside for hours at a time.

It felt oddly exhilarating that everyone who knew me simply thought of me as Carlos's mamaita-his baby's mama. There were lots of whispers and rumors going around about who I could really be, and it was actually pretty scary how much truth some people were able to guess correctly. For instance, since I was homeless and jobless despite being a relatively well-off 40-something, people quickly guessed that my pregnancy was the result of an affair. How else would a woman like me find herself in this situation? I tried to avoid the subject, but once that cat was out of the bag, I admitted to it. This resulted in some of the residents turning against me. Why should they do any favors for some knocked-up, adulterous slut, after all?

Carlos defended me, and reminded everyone that he was as much to blame. That didn't stop the hate toward me; the RA, as well as the vast majority of the dorm residents, were staunchly religious and I was an "adúltera" (adulteress). Though no one ever said anything directly, I knew the main reason they barely tolerated my presence was because I'd never entertained thoughts of an abortion. If I had, I would have been kicked out immediately. Whenever I got any harassment, the RA gently reminded the naysayers that he knew about all the things they hid in their closets (sometimes literally). That would stop the aggression for a time, and I was at least able to co-exist peacefully.

Oh well. Devolver bien por mal, as my mother used to day. (Basically, Spanish for 'if life gives you lemons...')

Eventually, I reached my second trimester carrying my son's baby, and I could no longer stay in his dorm. Word was getting out about me, and as it was, the RA had already gone above and beyond for us. He didn't want to force this on us, but his hands were tied. We understood, especially since we both knew I wouldn't have been able to stay after the baby was born anyway.

I still didn't have a job, so to prevent me from being put out in the streets, Carlos moved us both into a tiny apartment with only one large adjoined room that pulled triple duty as living room, kitchen and bedroom. Basically, the perfect economy home for broke trash like us. Fortunately, it also had a barely-functioning bathroom with a standing shower. By this point, I was at 23 weeks, and the baby was moving everyday. It was a very energetic little babe, which I guess it got from its papá.

One day, I was getting dressed while Carlos was in school and I caught a glimpse at myself in the full-length mirror. I had only dried off from my shower, so I was still nude and got to see the full length of my pregnant body reflected in the glass.

If I said so myself, I was radiante. This was the first time I'd ever actually looked at myself like this, with my belly bulging with my son's child, and my breasts slowly swelling in anticipation of nursing. Even my skin had cleared up, and my complexion was looking a lot smoother and healthier. It was incredible what the body could do to itself under the oddest of circumstances. Especially mine, which seemed to change more and more every time I was pregnant.

But I stood there and took careful stock of my bloated belly, remembering that somewhere inside there, I was slowly creating a life.

A child that was also a grandchild.

Even though I still hated myself for what happened, and I hated what I went through after it happened, I now loved the fact that it happened.

Somewhere inside, deep inside, I felt a longing to meet this person with whom I'd shared my life for the past half-year. It dawned on me then that I hadn't had an ultrasound, so I had no idea if I was carrying a boy or a girl...but now, I wanted to know. It was my own pet curiosity.

So, after I was finished my daily job hunt, I took a trip to a free women's clinic and asked for an ultrasound, which they were happy to provide. A couple of professionals looked over the photos and determined that I was having a boy.

I felt strangely proud. Four-for-four. Thus far, I was 100% at producing sons.

A few centuries ago, that would have made me practically a queen.

When Carlos came home, he and I had a long talk about the future: both for us, and our son.

"Our baby's going to be...well...inbred, you know that," I stressed.

He nodded. "I know. I've been looking into it. There might be problems, but there might not be. It's...kind of out of our hands. I'm a little scared that we might wind up with something neither of us prepared to handle, but since you've made up your mind to have it...I'll accept my role as father."

I beamed, my cheeks a bit rosy hearing my son say that he was willing to share the role of father and mother with me. It was true-he had been a wonderful provider while I was trapped in this situation, but he was still young. He didn't really know what he was getting himself into. Regardless, it felt nice to realize that I wasn't in this alone.

"So...what about 'us'?" he asked me. Both of us knew that this question couldn't be avoided.

"Well, I don't think things need to change any time soon," I answered. "I'm still your guest, so to speak, so you can keep doing with me what we've been doing. You're a young man and you have needs. And to be honest, we both clearly enjoy it."

He smiled a bit at my admission and nodded. We held a gaze for a moment, and though there was still mutual lust and attraction, I couldn't say it had sparked into love just yet. True, I loved my son, I was more than willing to have sex with him, and I was going to have his baby...but it was obvious that neither of us saw a future with each other. That may sound strange, but we had decided it was extremely important to be honest with our feelings.

But the lust was definitely there, so it was only a few minutes later when Carlos pushed me down on the bed, mounted me, and pounded my pussy hard until both of us climaxed. At this point, I was clearly engrossed, especially in the thrill of pregnant sex. I deeply enjoyed peering down at him over my pregnant belly, watching his athletic, tattooed body pounding away at the place where he'd come from and later planted his seed.

At long last, into my third trimester, I finally found work as a customer service operator at a local cable company. Unfortunately, I was only a temp and any time I took off for maternity wouldn't be compensated. Still, a job was a job at this point, so I took what I could get.

Our cramped apartment was slowly filling up with baby products, like a crib, a carriage, and other essentials. It shocked me how much prices on these things had changed in almost 20 years, but I had to accept that that's what happens when you get knocked up nearly a generation apart.

Suddenly, though, things took a very unforeseen turn.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Soon after I found my job, Carlos also found himself something: a girlfriend.

I knew that he was seeing people, but this was the first time it went beyond a handful of dates. Because of our situation, Carlos told me about her immediately, and I, of course, encouraged it. I was, after all, his mother and we both knew where our relationship stood.

I'd accepted that this could, and probably would, happen.

With his girlfriend, Yelena, he brought up the subject of me very delicately and slowly. He let her know that he was sharing an apartment with someone, that she was expecting his child, but that nothing serious was happening between us. At one point, he even brought her to our place so she could meet me. I could tell she was taken aback by how far along I was. I suppose that being told her boyfriend had a mamaita didn't quite register until she actually saw how soon the baby would be born.

Sex between Carlos and I stopped for a while. I was left to my own devices for several weeks until things with Yelena suddenly cooled down. They only dated a short time, so I was surprised by how hurt he was by their falling-out. They were still dating off-and-on, but it was clear that things weren't going well and Carlos would come home and fuck me hard almost every night. It was clearly being done to spite Yelena, but I didn't ask questions. I just enjoyed having him in my bed again, especially since he now fucked me so aggressively. Carlos had always been very gentle and reserved with me, especially later in my pregnancy, so getting pounded so rough was a very, very pleasant surprise for me.

Finally, she stopped returning his calls and that was that. I felt guilty, because the little bits of their arguments I could overhear made it was obvious that I was the factor that had ended their relationship. Yelena had apparently never really accepted me, and wanted Carlos to kick me out. He repeatedly refused, and this was the result.

Just as well, too, because the big day was finally here.

When the big moment finally arrived, I went into labor and had one of my neighbors call Carlos to tell him I'd be at the hospital. Carlos arrived within an hour and stayed with me when he could. After hours of grueling torture that I had never thought I'd go through again, I gave birth to my son.

My grandson.

My son's son.

The baby was beautiful-a little small, but with no obvious problems. We were relieved. For now.

I stayed only a brief time at the hospital-after all, I wasn't being paid for this, and I still didn't have health coverage. So when I had the chance, I took my baby and I left.

Life became a scramble from that point on, and Carlos just followed my lead, doing what I said because I'd been through this three times before with him and his brothers. Speaking of whom, I called and told them that they had a new half-sibling, but they still weren't speaking to me very much. They said Dad had started up drinking after my affair, so they didn't really give too much of a damn about the kid that had wrecked his life. Even if it was familia.

I told them I understood, and when I hung up the phone, I broke down in tears. The guilt still cut deep.

Carlos felt the same.

When Carlos and I finally began having sex again, we used all the protection we should have used the first time around. Condoms, pills, morning-after pills, pull-out...you name it. I'd found another stable job by then-easier now that I was a "single mom" rather than an "expectant mom". Employers are much more eager to hire a woman when they know she's not going to be on maternity leave any time soon.

I was working as a beautician, doing local fashion shows to priss up the models before they went out on the runway. The money was good, which meant that I was finally independent for the first time in almost two years. The benefits were...not great, but leaps and bounds above public healthcare.

Now that I was finally standing on my own two feet again, it was time for Carlos and I to discuss our options again. He'd been my de-facto husband for about a year, and was settling into his role as Daddy with amazing grace. It was hard not to feel the illusion of normal domesticity as I watched my child and his father enjoying each other's company...or when Carlos and I enjoyed each other's company ourselves.

Then he said something that shook me deep to my core.

"I've been giving it thought lately. I wanna give it a try."

"What do you mean, exactly? The two of us-in love for real?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You're the most reliable friend and...technically...the most steady girlfriend I've ever had in my entire life. And I have to admit-I've kind of grown attached to this."

I nodded, but I was still having reservations. After all, no matter how we felt, we were still mother and son. There were clearly limits to what we could accomplish in a real relationship. We'd never be able to officially marry, for instance. Not unless we pulled off some sort of immaculate fraud and spent the rest of our lives hoping no one figured it out.

Besides, I was 19 years Carlos's senior. I didn't quite look my age, but who knew how long that privilege would last? How would he feel being with a 60-year-old granny when he turned 48? What would we tell our son? And what if his brothers changed their minds and wanted to visit...?

So many what-ifs ran through my mind, but Carlos only had one question to ask.

"Mom, how would you feel if I married another woman? I mean, how would you really feel if another woman took me away from you?"

To my surprise, his wording it in that manner produced more resentment and revulsion than I expected. I hadn't thought too much about it when he'd been with Yelena, but those days he had came home late left me picturing what the two of them might have been doing together, and it made me feel rather jealous. But until now, I'd assumed that my feelings were due to loneliness-after all, I didn't have anyone but Carlos at the time. Now, I had our son, so I wasn't alone anymore...

So that left me with the burning question...how would I feel, if another woman took my beautiful Carlos from me? If she got to suck his cock every night? Sleep with him every night? Gaze into his eyes while he fucked her every night? And felt him cum inside her every night? How would I feel if another woman had his baby and forced him to divide his time between my home and hers, enjoying a deeper relationship than I could ever have?