The Jumping-Off Point

Allen was silent.

"Apparently, it's super common online, too. Like, tons of videos and stories about it. Have you ever stumbled onto anything like that?"

The moment those words left her lips, Claire cursed herself, You fucking idiot. Her son's beige flesh drained white. His eyes, which had been settling into their conversation, were on alert.

"No. I think I'm gonna drive to the airfield. Get outside. Can I borrow the car?"

Claire painfully nodded. In seconds she had gone from nearly unlocking her interested son, to losing any prayer she had of getting him in the water with her.

The rattle of the front door closing echoed in the kitchen. Claire was left alone to berate herself and decide which pizza place she'd order from. She felt too sick to cook.

*****

Claire downed a rare nightcap alone in the sitting room. In the days since her kitchen conversation with Allen, she had gotten nowhere. He had hid in his room for days before finally returning to the couch where she could talk to him.

After waiting a day to let him settle back into his routine, Claire had tried wearing another bikini through the house (with her towel over her shoulder). But Allen's eyes were glued to his tablet for as long as she stood vulnerably before him.

You spooked him. You blew your one fucking chance. Claire washed her wine glass in the kitchen sink and wondered what would have happened if she didn't push him too far in that conversation. What would he have asked her? What would he have revealed?

In her less frustrated moments, Claire recognized all of the good her conversation did. She had made it clear to Allen that she was comfortable with son-mom interest. Hell, she was even fine asking him about incest smut online.

What she learned was even more valuable. Allen had been checking her out. He saw the sexuality of her body. And he did associate her with his erotica.

Claire had enough experience with stoic men losing their poise before her. She knew what it meant when the tips of a man's ears burned red. She knew what it meant when a man looked down at the ground when he spoke. And she knew what it meant when a man looked at her tits with wide eyes. Claire knew what a flustered, guilty, and excited man looked like. Her son was one of them.

"Honey, I want you to guess how much it used to cost to go to the Space Station. Then guess how much SpaceX can do it for now."

Claire wasn't paying attention as she marched into the bedroom. She was only looking at her phone. Her thumbs scurried across the screen. "Here," she announced.

Seconds later, Noah's nightstand vibrated.

"Look at what I sent you."

"Allllrighty, then," Noah played along.

"Read it," Claire instructed. She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower before bed.

She opened the door silently and poked her head out of the darkened bathroom. Her husband's legs were slowly rubbing together under their golden comforter. His blue-lit face was entranced in his phone. Claire slyly smirked at the sight of his closed fist applying light pressure to his body, on what had to be an erection below.

Claire arched her brown eyebrow. "Hot, isn't it?"

Noah startled. "Umm, haha, yeah." He turned back to his screen. "Can I ask why you sent this? It's not really my usual."

Claire took a seat on their mattress and pointed accusingly at his iPhone. "There were only four stories Allen favorited. I looked them up. That is one of them."

"Uhh..." Noah shrugged. "It's hot. I'll give you that. Incest usually isn't my cup of tea, though."

"Errr!" Claire waved her hands in frustration. Her husband wasn't magically reading her mind. "Of the four stories he favorited, two of them basically had the same plot. THIS plot. This was the better one of the two."

"Huh... Cool."

"Cool? Did you finish reading it?"

"Well, most of it. I have a few paragraphs left, I think." Noah turned to his wife, and he felt uneasy. "What are you getting at?"

*****

Beads of sweat trickled down Noah's sideburns as he pushed the giant orange cart through the parking lot. The April sun beat down on his neck. "Not as 'effortless' as she said it'd be," Noah groaned and chuckled.

The employees at the customer support desk had to hate him by now. This was the third and final time he pushed a dented metal cart into the Home Depot. This was the last of the concrete powder and lumber he had purchased earlier in the day.

Noah knew he looked like an idiot, standing in line again and again to return items he had purchased less than an hour ago. Each time, he answered the question, "Can I ask why you are returning these?" with "I realized I bought the wrong thing."

Thankfully, his wife had the foresight to suggest he go to the Home Depot a town over. "I could never show my face in here again. That is if they don't ban me for being annoying first."

The work over the last hour had been grueling. Packing the family car was harder than he imagined. The lumber fit awkwardly in their Honda Pilot. But really, the only goal was for it to make geometric sense. If it didn't, Allen would notice and try to correct it.

"You'll have a new shed, and a beautiful riding mower to put in it." Noah reminded himself of his reward while he struggled in the heat. He had been smart enough to capitalize on his wife's idea. "This is the entire base right here," he grunted while lifting beams. "And if things work with Allen, then she and Daryl can finally stop sneaking around and fucking in my safe space."

Noah couldn't be more supportive of Claire and Daryl. But finding residue of his son's dried cum on the floor, and even on his workbench once, wasn't exactly charming. He dreamed of the day he could walk into his expanded man cave and smell only sawdust and the gasoline of a new riding mower—instead of his wife's perfume and sex sweat.

*****

I hope he's not killing himself over this. I told him that 'good enough' would be fine. Claire wondered what was keeping her husband at Home Depot for so long.

She opened a pot lid and the ocean-scented steam pillowed around her face. She tied her messy brown hair into a loose bun. Crab legs were Noah's favorite, and Claire wanted to surprise him when he got home. ...Whenever the hell that is.

Claire scratched her fingers anxiously. Hey, relax, you. He's not thinking about backing out. He's getting his shed out of it, right? He's probably just being picky with what he's getting. He's not gonna back out. He already agreed. And it makes sense. He knows it does.

On the night Claire had shared the Literotica story with her husband, she watched him read the final paragraphs closely. She was itching to know if he would discover the same perfect solution that came to her hours earlier—with its ease, its simplicity, the lack of risk, and the definitive results.

"I still don't know where you're going with this." Noah lifted his fist from his erection. "Why does this story matter?"

"Honey, think about it. This is exactly what we need to do. I told you how close I was to breaking him a few days ago. I know he wants it. He's obviously scared right now, but once I get that undeniable proof, we'll finally be at that 'jumping-off point' you talked about. He'll go into the pool with me."

"And he already knows I'm not bothered by him wanting me that way."

It was quiet. Noah looked at his phone and then up at his wife. A loose strand of hair had fallen over her face. Her restless legs crossed in front of her. Her soft-blue eyes probed him. And her dark-pink lips were slightly parted, ready to rebut him in an instant.

"Sweetie..." Noah calmly breathed. "I know this is a dangerous question for a husband to ask his wife. And I ask this in the most loving way I can... Are you insane?"

Claire tipped back and flopped onto the mattress, laughing hysterically. She covered her red face and laughed until her sides hurt.

"NOOO!" She popped up gasping. "I know it sounds stupid, but it makes sense!"

"It's a story!" Noah chuckled. "People read this when they're horny. It only makes sense when you're horny. People wanna believe it's true because it's hot to think about it actually happening in real life."

"It could happen."

"Were you masturbating when you read it?"

Claire hesitated.

"Right, that's what I'm saying. If you weren't turned on and tried to read this, you'd realize how impossible it is."

"Okay, I was masturbating, but I didn't need to. It's not impossible, it just- "

"Okay, okay," Noah held up his index finger. He used his other thumb to scroll up on his phone. "Alright, so... This is a story about a son and mom helping the mom's sister move. Seems innocuous enough. But wait..." Noah dramatically narrated. "OH, NO! The boxes filled up all of the truck's seats! Well, that's no big deal because she's moving, so surely she can take multiple trips over the course of the- OH, NO! It looks like they can only take one trip for some reason!"

A thick malaise covered Claire's eyes, but Noah continued with his theatrics.

"You know what, it's probably okay if they can only take one trip because I'm sure the son will drive and the mom will sit on her sister's- OH, NO! The mom is sitting on her son's lap?! Well, it's a short drive anyway, so there shouldn't be any- OH, NO! The road's under construction and really bumpy?! No problem, it's not like the mom would sit directly on her son's di- OH MY GOD, she is! That's dangerous for them to do because it's only a matter of time before the aunt turns around and sees that- OH, WAIT... her vision is blocked?!"

Claire wasn't amused. At least she refused to give him the giggle her husband was working for. "Funny. Anyway... You're missing the point. It's a story about a son who wants his mom ending up in a position where it would be impossible for him not to get hard. And it's not like he could deny it's happening or why..."

"Honey, I'm not arguing with you," Noah raised his arms. "And I'm not saying this isn't hot. It's not even my thing, and I'll probably read this again. It does its job well. What I'm saying is— There are a lot of really nice coincidences, no?"

Claire hesitated.

Noah shook his head. "Claire, it works in a story. But the odds of all of that, or even some of it, happening in real life are one in a million. That mom would've had to be into it to begin with. And the only way all of those coincidences would pan out, is if you literally planned everything to work that way."

Claire held out her palms. "Yeah..." she nodded at her goofy husband. Her smirk was sly and forgiving. "That's literally what we're talking about right now."

Noah bashfully pursed his lips.

"This isn't crazy. And it's super simple. What's hard about packing the car and driving somewhere? He already likes the fantasy. He's imagined being in that position who knows how many times? I mean, he'd freak out less from this than other tactics. And I'll be there to calm him down."

"But, like, what- " Noah sighed. "What about the bumpy roads? What bumpy roads do we have around here?"

"Again, I think you're missing the point, love. We're not recreating the story. We just need to put him in a position where he'll get hard against me. And it won't scare him because I'll tell him right away that I feel it and that it's a good thing. It'll be positive." Claire then added in a wistful tone, "And after that, I can start inviting him out for swims."

Noah launched their night into debate about Claire's vision. It sounded complicated, but it was admittedly simple and harmless. She would sit on Allen's lap. If he got hard, they had their jumping-off point. If he didn't, it would be nothing more than an annoying car ride.

"Allen is logical, though. He'd be asking me, 'Why do I need to go? Why not two trips? Why don't I drive and mom sits on your lap?'"

"Those are easy questions to come up with answers for," Claire assured.

Their quiet talk lasted past midnight. When Claire had nothing left to say, she sat there, both tired and energized. She squeezed her toes for comfort and patiently watched her husband process everything they had said.

The longer Claire studied his face, the faster her heart fluttered. She knew her husband. She could practically read his mind:

"Nothing else has been working for her so far. And I guess this is a pretty innocent idea. Even her wearing the 'Hilton Head' bikini in the house was bolder than this. It's a dumb plan... but it could actually work. And if it doesn't, nothing bad happens. She'll finally have her answer if she does it."

When Noah glanced up again, Claire smiled as widely and gratefully as she could. She could see what he was saying to himself: "And look how excited she is. She wants this."

That's right, honey... I do want it. And I know you want it too. I remember how proud of a dad you were when I told you how happy Daryl was making me. You said marrying me was your greatest achievement and that you felt like an amazing dad for letting your son share in your success.

You may have never gotten off from thinking about us having sex, but I remember how proudly you smiled and puffed your chest when I admitted how your son was able to make me cum from sliding his cock in me.

I know how happy having a close-knit family makes you. You want to be just as close to Allen as you are to Daryl. You may not share much in common with Allen, but nothing you could share would be more important or intimate than me.

You told me you never found me more beautiful or perfect as a mother than when I started seducing our son and teaching him how to bond with me over sex. You said I taught him how to be a man. And I did—in the truest possible way.

That's why you're hoping I'm right about Allen. You're skeptical—understandably so. But you want it to be true. You know I have a special bond with Allen. You can tell the urge inside me is even stronger with Allen than it was with Daryl.

You hope I get to use that urge to make you a proud dad again. You want me to make your youngest son a man—a true man—a man who satisfies me in bed just as much as you do. And you know I'll make him one. You know I won't stop teaching him until he fucks me with his cock and treats me as well as you do. And once that happens, no matter where he goes in life, you will always share a special bond with him—a level of closeness you couldn't get any other way.

You won't ask for the details because you won't care. You won't be turned on by it or get jealous enough to ask me how incredible it feels when he and I are alone together and playing with each other's naked bodies. You'll just find it funny how horny I get all the time. Because just like with Daryl, you'll enjoy the benefits more than anyone else.

And above all... You know I love you as much as you love me. You know I'd do anything to make you happy. That's why, even though we're both nervous and don't know if it's the right idea, you're about to say yes. You're gonna try this with me.

...Then I'm gonna jerk you off really fast. Because I just realized I didn't let you finish when you were reading.

Chopping zucchini next to the hot stove, Claire laughed out loud in the kitchen. She remembered the day after their talk when Noah practically ran inside the house after work and jumped on her like a puppy. He explained how the new shed would be the "ideal excuse" to pack the car tightly.

How could Claire have argued?

"Whew! God!" She waved the hot steam away from her face and stepped away. With her fists on her hips, she let her mind wander back to her youngest son. Claire, this is your best chance. If he's serious about wanting it, he'll react. How many boys get to live out their fantasy in real life?

*****

Never before on a Friday had Claire fled the community center so quickly. Everything was set for tomorrow. Not that there was much to do. Noah has taken note of how to pack the SUV with the materials he was buying. Now, she only had to deal with the non-stop thoughts and scenarios playing out in her head.

She stressed the details of what she would wear: What would Allen like? She stressed how she'd do her makeup: I don't know what he likes. And above all, she stressed the unknown: What if he somehow finds a way not to sit under me?

Ironically, what calmed Claire down was wearing her white bikini again into the living room and having a lengthy conversation with Allen before Noah got home from the office. It gave her a sense of control, in light of the uncertainty of tomorrow. Allen peeked from his tablet a number of times. Claire felt a rush, but she didn't invite him to join her in the pool. She didn't want to risk him piecing the puzzle together in the car.

~~

"I decided I'm buying the concrete and lumber for the new shed tomorrow."

"Really? I thought you were waiting till later in the year on that?" Claire looked up quizzically from her dinner plate.

"You know, I was. But I'm gettin' old, haha! I want a riding mower before summer."

Claire snickered. "Fair enough. Will you need my help?"

"Definitely. I'll need everyone. It'll be all hands on deck." Noah sipped his water. "The sucky part is that the plywood I need is usually picked clean early at our Home Depot, so we have to go to the North End one."

"Oh, lovely," Claire rolled her eyes. She made sure Allen was passively observing as always. Eee! My handsome boy.

*****

Behr Exterior...Tornado Season? Who'd wanna paint their house a color called Tornado Season? Claire shook her head and slipped the dark-blue paint swatch card back into the kiosk where she found it.

She had one job—pick out a paint color. Noah had given her specific instructions for the exact brand and type he needed for the shed and trim. Not that she felt pressure to get it right. After all, she could easily return the paint. Noah wouldn't be painting it for weeks.

Her task was a mere distraction—a way to get Allen off her mind. Or, as much as she could anyway. I can't imagine how I'd be holding up if I were with him right now.

When they first walked into the sprawling, warehouse-style hardware store, Claire felt a shiver run up the backs of her legs. She couldn't stop looking at Allen.

He got his hands on a metal dolly and rode it like a giant, orange skateboard. Claire smiled. He was in a happy and helpful mood. Plus, it didn't seem long ago that Allen was sitting on the bottom of the cart, asking her and Noah to push him around.

Allen wasted no time squatting down in front of the powdered concrete and lifting the heavy bags onto the cart. It triggered a rush through Claire's body. There was something primally sexy about watching a man move heavy objects with purpose.

The way his neck and jaw strained. The way his muscular, beige arms flexed in his black t-shirt. The way the cotton fabric pinched slightly between his two pectorals. The way he bit his bottom lip while grunting. That bulge in his shorts. God...

Claire stopped looking at her cute son and announced she was going to work her way through her shopping list. All two cans of paint.

Everything goes with white trim... Claire mulled over the rainbow of color options. It was the only way to occupy herself while her two men were laboring over in Lumber. "That's pretty. It would clash with the house though."

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No. Thank you, though." Claire curtly smiled and turned away.

"You sure? What kinda paint are you lookin' for? This is exterior paint, mainly for the outside of your house. If you're looking to paint your walls, I can show you some interior latex paints down here."

The hefty, older man stood a head above Claire in his orange apron. He seemed to drift closer with his toothy grin and gesturing hands. "I'm kind of the Paint King here. So anything you need, I can help you."