Telling Mom Pt. 00 - Prologue

When I was 22 years old I moved back in with my mother. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal, since I was renting out a small garage apartment separate from the main house. And my mom wasn't the nosy type; in fact, we got along well. But soon it became apparent that we were both interested in something more. I think it started out innocently enough: after years apart we discovered we liked each other's company and had a lot of the same interests. It just so happened that two of those interests led to us learning a lot more about each other.

I moved in just before summer began and the first thing that got my attention when I pulled into the driveway was the old pool. I love swimming, and I was happy to have access to a private pool at any time. I got so hot and sweaty the day I moved in that I actually thought about taking a dip. My mom asked me about it too. I think she noticed me eyeing the pool. She's always been good at anticipating me, after all. But in the end I decided it wasn't hot enough outside and that it would be a bother digging out my swimsuit then and there, so I took a hot shower instead. It felt good, letting out all the sweat from the day and then cooling off with cold water, but afterwards I was drained. I was wearing a bath robe, but now desperately wanted to feel the breeze and fan on my cooling body, so I opened up the robe and laid down on my bed.

I must have fallen asleep, because that's how I woke up the next morning. The robe was still somewhat around my shoulders, but I had rolled over at some point and half-pulled a blanket over myself. As I awoke I felt a decent hard-on pressing against the bed below me. I briefly thought about jerking off, but instead decided to get dressed and see about breakfast. I threw on some boxers and a pair of shorts and pulled on a black golf shirt I favored. I trotted down the stairs from my apartment, across the driveway and by the pool and backyard, and with a knock let myself into my mom's kitchen from the back of her house.

I realized then that I didn't know exactly what time it was. Judging from the light it was at least eleven or getting to be noon. But just to be safe I decided to move quietly. I didn't know if my mom liked to sleep in or not, it dawned on me. Nor did I know if she was a breakfast person, in fact. But a good mood struck me and I decided to surprise her with a light breakfast. I started sliced up some apples and peaches, started some toast, and fried a couple of eggs. I also saw that she still bought that awesome crunchy, fruity cereal, so I poured us a bowl to share. Just as I was finishing up my mom came down the stairs. She was fully showered and dressed, wearing a pair of comfortable-looking faded jeans and a maroon tank top. Holding a cup of coffee in one hand, and a magazine in the other, she was making her way down in a pair of green sneakers.

"Morning!" I called out cheerfully.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said as she came into the kitchen.

Something about her tone made me look up. She sounded a little upset, even stern. Weird, the night before when I got to the house she was all smiles. She even made a pitcher of lemonade for me and the two friends who helped me move. Was she mad that I let myself into her house and started using her food and kitchen?

"I was hungry, I hope that's okay... Did you already eat? I made a little extra."

"I ate earlier, thanks. Help yourself any time," she said as she settle into one of the stools at the counter. She glanced at the pan in my hand. "Eggs smell good."

I smiled. "I learned from the best." She seemed determined to be gruff, so she only gave me a small derisive snort but I thought I saw an attempt to hide a self-contented smile. As I finished the eggs I tried to figure out what I might have done to make her upset with me. Then I remembered we had talked about putting on a movie last night after dinner. I had totally forgotten, then that shower put me to sleep. That had to be it! Still, she seemed a little too upset for something like that. My mom isn't some silly teenage girl with an ego to validate. Still, since I had remembered our plans now I decided to apologize. I served up the food I made between us, ignoring her claims to be full. She surveyed everything I did silently, half reading her magazine and sipping her coffee. When I finished and sat down across from her, she gave me an approving look.

"Not bad, kiddo."

"Feel free if you want, like I said I made more in case you hadn't eaten."

She didn't answer, but her mood seemed to have softened slightly. She took a long sip of her coffee but kept her eyes on me over the rim of the mug.

"Sorry about last night," I said in between bites. "I was exhausted. Totally passed out."

She watched me for another second as she put her mug down. Then she gave a little laugh and put her chin on her hand. It was an old gesture of hers. I knew then I was forgiven. Still, I sensed there was something she hadn't told me.

"Don't worry about it. You were moving all day, after all." She paused again and watched me eat, then, "I figured it out. I think I tried to text you but since you didn't answer I just watched TV."

"So you didn't watch that movie after all?"

Another reflective pause. "No, I said I wanted to watch it with you..."

Now I was starting to wake up a little more, and getting the feeling she was upset about me missing movie night after all. So I let her words hang there for a minute, then I decided to be a smart-ass brat.

"Cool, so we can watch it tonight!"

"Yeah, sure, if you don't pass out."

I reached across the counter and took the mug out of her hand. In one big gulp, I drank the rest of her coffee dry and contentedly set the mug down in front of her. Her reaction did not disappoint in the least: first she flinched at my intrusion into her personal space, then as she realized what I was doing her impotent rage was all the validation I needed.

"You little jerk!"

"You raised me."

At that she raised the magazine and slapped me on the shoulder with it. Gently, but not too gently. She was pissed, and I was loving it.

I wheeled away as if to avoid another blow, then made my way to the back door. I played the innocent victim now, "I can't deal with this domestic violence, I'm going to clean my room like a good boy."

"Hey! What about your dishes?"

"I can only be in one place at a time, mom," I said with a giggle, and left. I was pretty pleased with myself at riling her up.

I made my way back up to the apartment. After all, I was actually still tired. I coud easily have gone back to bed. I sat down on my bed and almost did it, but decided I should be productive and unpack. Still, I wanted to stall for a bit so I grabbed my cell phone. I got kind of mired in sending out a few texts to friends, letting them know I was back in town. Then I started cleaning out old texts. After a while of doing this, something occurred to me.

There was no text from my mother. She had clearly said that she texted me and was disappointed when I did not reply. I guess she could have meant that she was going to text but decided I wasn't worth it. Weird, I thought.

It was then that I noticed the bathrobe, still on the bed from when I undressed this morning. And I remembered how I fell asleep, after my shower. Totally exposed, and with my door unlocked and windows open, no less. Good thing I live on the second floor, and in a secondary structure away from the street. So it's not like just anyone is gonna be wandering around and might catch a peek of me lying naked on my bed. In fact, the only person that might be coming up to my door last night would have been my mom, but she wouldn't have any reason to do that either. Not unless we had made plans to do something together...

The thought just came to me all of a sudden, and it seemed to crazy at first that I actually laughed. But the more I thought about it, the more everything made sense. my mom's weird attitude at breakfast, the way she stayed mad even after I apologized. The odd tension that remained even after I tried to break it, and the long looks she seemed to give me when she thought I wasn't looking, like she was seeing a side of me she hadn't seen before. One she hadn't considered before.

I realized my hard-on from the morning had come back. this time, I did jerk off.