The Mother/Son Book Club Pt. 03

Book 3 - A Son's Property - Gina and Vincent

*

Not for the first time that day, Gina found her thoughts wandering to her husband, Frank. He had been handsome, charming, and intelligent. Over a period of only a few months, she had witnessed the cancer degrade and erase him, until the end, when he could barely remember his own children. She sighed, and choked back a single sob as she continued to rinse and dry the dishes. If she allowed herself to start crying now, she'd never get anything else done tonight. She'd been a wreck for months, on and off. While she never stopped working or being a mother, she knew that without her eldest son, Vincent, she would have shattered into a million pieces long before now.

If Vincent had been here tonight, he would never have allowed her to do this. He probably would have had dinner started before she even got home. He wouldn't even have needed to been asked. She was glad that he had plans that night, in fact. As much as she appreciated her son's help, she wanted him to get out and have his own life, even if it did involve dating girls who weren't mature enough to appreciate him.

Gina thought of her eldest son and then smiled. He was a senior in high school and her two daughters, Lucia and Helena, were still in high and middle school respectively.  Frank had been an excellent father, and he had given her three wonderful children, who she regarded as her life. That was one thing she could be grateful for, at least.

Before the cancer, Gina's family had been close to perfect, with none of the issues that her best friends Linda and Raquel had to deal with. She forcefully reminded herself that her family was still good, and that she was still the head of it, and that she would not allow herself to let her children down.

Still, she would have given much to have had Frank there to comfort her later that evening. She smiled. Well, tonight, she would have liked to have been used more than comforted. There was nothing like the after glow of particularly rough sex, laying in the warm post-orgasm brain fog, appreciating the bruises forming on her inner thighs and wrists. It had been too long. Before the cancer had taken his life, it had taken Franks ability and drive for sex. Gina felt selfish now, thinking of his suffering.

The front door opened unexpectedly. Vincent was home early. Maybe his date didn't go well? Just for a moment, Gina squirmed in place, squeezing her thighs together. Her son was young and very strong. He could definitely leave marks on a girl, if he wanted. She shook her head, trying to throw off the shame of her own thoughts, but from prior experience, she knew they would not disappear.

Gina had been raised a certain way, and because of that, she would always be inappropriately weak to her own son. It was just a fact that she would have to live with.

"Hey mom," Vincent said, walking behind her into the kitchen. He grabbed a can of soda from the fridge before sitting down at the table, behind her. "I would have done the dishes later, you didn't have to."

"I know," Gina said, smiling. "How was your date?"

"Okay I guess. I don't know if she's right for me?"

"What's wrong with Jessica?" Gina asked. Her son was very picky with girls. Then again, maybe he could afford to be. He was tall, handsome, with a soft-spoken confidence. 

"Nothing's wrong with her. She's just...I don't know, kind of immature? I kind of want someone a little more self-aware, I guess. Plus she wouldn't stop talking about her brother. It was weird."

"The right one will come along one day, I'm sure. You're not even out of high school yet, after all."

Gina fell back into silence, continuing to wash the dishes by hand. There weren't many that night, and doing things manually like that relaxed her. She hummed and swayed her hips side to side, to the beat of a song only she could hear. She was unaware of her son's eyes, hungrily following the movement of her body beneath her plain but well-fitted office dress.

"H-how are you doing, Mom?" 

Gina sighed, frustrated but also gratified by the tone of her son's voice. He was worried about her, and he shouldn't have to be.

"Today was a little rough," she said. "Sometimes it feels like your father's been gone for years. Other times it's like he died yesterday."

"It'll get better Mom. I promise."

Vincent stepped behind her and put his hands on his mother's shoulders, intending to be reassuring. It took everything within Gina to resist simply bending over and pushing herself back against her son, submitting fully.

As a woman should, a voice deep within her reminded her, forcefully.

Gina stopped, stepped away from her son carefully, then dried her hands and went upstairs. She was able to get to her room before she collapsed on her bed in tears, her emotions a confusing mix of grief, want, and shame. 

Vincent had no idea what he had done, but he felt badly anyway.

* * *

Things didn't change for several days. Vincent felt a rift open up between him and his mother. He did not like it. More specifically, he did not like how she stopped opening up to him, and how she was glancing at him now, almost slyly, when he was looking away. He worried that she was starting to hate him, although he could not say why.

It was Thursday evening when everything changed. On Thursdays, the family ate together. No one had to be told, but the kids stopped working on their homework, Vincent made sure to be free, and Gina refused to work late. They all helped make dinner; a simple pasta with a very flavorful tomato and meat sauce, a recipe that Gina had learned from her own mother. 

Surprisingly there was nothing wrong that night. Everyone laughed together, more than normal, and no one wanted to leave the table early. Vincent was still concerned as he watched his mother drink first one, then another, then a third glass of wine. At times, she went out with her friends and had some cocktails, but she rarely drank at the table, especially after her husband's death. Red wine was a reminder of prior family celebrations. Tonight, at least, it seemed to cheer her up. Even if she passed out early, Vincent was unconcerned. He would put the girls to bed himself and leave it at that

As it happened, Helena told a series of dumb but hilarious jokes, and things didn't really end even when dinner did. After they cleared the table, the girls and Vincent worked on their homework together, he occasionally helping them with a difficult question or problem. Gina, unfortunately, had a sudden work emergency which demanded her attention, so Vincent made sure that the girls were tucked in on time. It wasn't that unusual, but he was surprised when he got done and came back downstairs to find his mother back at the table, smiling at him. There were two glasses of wine poured. 

"Sit with me, Vincent," Gina said. Her voice slurred ever so slightly, and was noticeably deeper than normal, but it only served to make her seem more seductive. He knew that he should suggest that she go to bed, but he knew that he wouldn't. 

It wasn't Vincent's fault if his mother got drunk, after all. She was an adult. And who knows what she might do in that state. She'd hinted in the past that she and her friends were wild when they were younger. Vincent sat, and sipped his wine. Despite being only eighteen, he was used to having wine at some family meals. It was just expected of him, but he never had much.

"We don't get to talk like this much anymore, Mom," Vincent said, after a moment's hesitation. "I miss it."

Gina smiled, and to Vincent it seemed to light up the room.

"I do, too. We used to talk about all kinds of things. Now, I feel like I owe you so much more, but we don't communicate as much, and that bothers me."

"You don't owe me anything, Mom."

Gina rolled her eyes, but she did so with a smile.

"Come on, Vincent. I see you. I see every little thing you do for Lucia and Helena. You never had to be told, you just became their surrogate father. I still show up for their events, but you volunteer to take them to and from school. Not to mention all the times you've cooked for them or tucked them in or just been present for them. You've been very important to your sisters these last few months. None of us is all right, not really, but without you we all would have been so much worse."

Vincent had tried hard to be helpful after his father's death, but hearing his mother's appreciation had a surprising effect on him. He felt his face grow hot, and without thinking about it, he became hard. He had never been praised in such a way by a woman as mature and beautiful as his mother. Sure she'd been proud of him, and made sure she knew he was loved. She was a good mother. But this was different somehow. 

Or was he just reading into her actions? Vincent had become aware of his unfortunate crush as time had passed. He'd thought his mother was beautiful since forever, and he'd had adolescent fantasies about her that made him feel guilty, but those paled in comparison to the desire that moved in him now. He had respected and loved his father, and had never wanted to take his place, but now...now he very much wanted to be in his mother's bed. He tried to steal glances at her when she was changing, hugged her whenever he could, and found excuses to touch her body. He felt like a creep, but she never resisted or seemed to mind, so he continued. Something had to change, he knew, or someone would be hurt.

"Come on, I was being a good mother for once, and you got all broody and quiet," Gina said, before laughing. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I...I was just thinking it's hard to know where I belong, now. Dad's gone and...I don't want to seem like I'm trying to take his place..."

"Well, no one would ever accuse you of trying to replace him. That's not what you have been doing. But sometimes, we do have to fill...vacancies, or else things fall apart. You've been amazing in that regard. Even my friends have noticed."

"I...thank you, mom. I just hope things get easier for you."

Gina laughed, this time bitterly.

"Nothing makes this loss easier. Not for me or you or the girls. But we can make things better for each other. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. You've made things better for all of us, but we haven't been making things better for you."

"It's okay mom, you've been really..."

"No, it is not okay. I want to be clear about that. You are...a young man with needs. Emotional and physical ones, and you've been doing everything right, but I know when I see a man in struggle or conflict. So...are you going to tell me what you really need?"

"I don't...I...I mean..." All of Vincent's confidence left him. The words still appeared in his mind, unwanted: I need to fuck you, Mom. I need to take you and dress you up and show you off and then take you home and bend you over like the little slut you are and...

"All right. I'm sorry. I'm being pushy. Why don't we just have a talk then. I'll tell you some things about myself that you don't know. Personal things. Things that really only my friends and your father knew. Then, if you're feeling up to it, you can share something about yourself, if you feel comfortable."

Vincent sighed, feeling much more relaxed.

"That sounds good."

"So, I guess...I should start by telling you a bit about what I was like when I was your age and just a bit older. I was...well, let's say a bit of a party girl."

"What does that mean?"

"I was never really a slut, exactly. I was absolutely a curvy little tease. There were guys I really liked, and...I wasn't afraid to show them what they wanted to see."

"Oh. Like who?"

Gina laughed, but seeing the slight flash of jealousy in her son's eyes made her decide to answer more coyly than she would have normally.

"Well, there were boys, but...never anything serious. There weren't a lot of mature, thoughtful young men like you around, to be honest. No one caught my interest, beyond the physical and animal attraction. No one, but your father. I used everything I could on him. And he still probably thought I was trying to get something from him. I was, but..."

"So what, you seduced him for money?" Vincent felt angry with his mother, and he didn't know precisely why. He wanted to attack her, to call her names. He wanted to tear her skirt off. He forcibly calmed himself. She was making herself more vulnerable by telling him these things, and she wasn't describing anything immoral. He had friends now who were promiscuous. Why should his mother have had to have been a nun before she met his father?

Gina sighed and shook her head.

"Your father was almost fifteen years older than me, Vincent. When we met I was twenty. Your grandfather had passed away when I was just a little girl, and mom had died right after I started college. I was alone. I mean, I had my older brothers, but they were young guys just out in the world, trying to get degrees and get laid and find themselves, and I wasn't going to hold them back. So I was broke, swimming in student debt, and coming pretty close to being homeless when I met your father. He saved me. "

"Saved you?"

"Your father...took care of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way. I needed a place to stay, and he was a bachelor with a house that was too big. I rented his outbuilding. It was a garage with an apartment above it. I could use the garage as a studio and it was cheap. Honestly, once he met me I think he would have probably let me stay for free. He was so kind. I didn't want to take advantage of him. Eventually we got close..."

"So you got together?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, obviously."

"All right, but...you're going to have to hear about your mother having sex. With details."

Gina hesitated, looking over her glass at Vincent, eyes wide and vulnerable, biting her lip. This wasn't fair. She knew she should stop vamping for him, but she couldn't help it. When she caught him glancing towards her cleavage, almost shyly, she suppressed a smile. She had him. Just like his father.

"Y-yeah, mom. I...I do."

"Okay, but you can tell me to stop any time. So...I had started college. I was doing fine, making friends. Actually Linda and Raquel were both in orientation with me. That was lucky. But I still felt pretty alone. Our family hadn't been big, and it had been...unusual, but it had been close. And we looked out for each other. And your father, well, he looked out for everyone around him. He ran his own company by then, and he treated them like a family. He never got married, and when I moved in, he started treating me like the daughter he never had."

"How do you go from being his surrogate daughter to, um..."

"To being in his bed? Well, you'd be surprised how often something like that happens."

"Oh."

"I knew your father was lonely. I had dated a little but I wasn't really interested in boys my age. They really didn't care. Or even if they did, they weren't mature enough to know how. Your father gave me a lot and took very little. He even waived rent when I was between jobs. I fell for him pretty quickly. But I wasn't looking to marry him."

"What did you want with him?"

"What every young woman wants with a handsome, mature, man. I wanted to fuck him."

Vincent's eyes increased to a huge size but he said nothing, so Gina continued.

"I was falling for him, but my only experiences had been with boys and...well, I suppose I was still a virgin in all the ways that counted. I was curvy even back then,  before you kids, and I was maybe less sophisticated but I was pretty daring. I started going around in the tiniest shorts and a baby t-shirt, tight enough that you could see everything. I only did it around the house though. I did more chores for him, cleaning, cooking, that sort of thing. I made sure I bent over all the time, bumped against him. I was very appreciative of any little thing he did. And I hugged him tight. 

Vincent laughed despite himself. His mother had a gleam in her eye, and it wasn't difficult for him to imagine a younger version of her really vamping for his father. It was cute, and in a way, even wholesome.

"So you were a shameless little tease?" he asked, playfully.

"You could say that, but I was willing and available to him. I knew what he needed and I was ready to give it to him if he asked. Or even if he just took."

"Took? You mean like...he forced you?"

"No," Gina said, "I...I was raised a certain way, and while I love my mom, she taught me that it was 'bad' when girls initiated. It was a lady's job to be available and ready for her man, but not to start touching him or asking him directly."

"So how was he supposed to know what to do?"

Gina laughed.

"Your father knew exactly what I wanted. He took his time to make sure that I was really doing more than flirting, but when he was...wow. When his resolve finally broke, he simply devoured me. I'd never heard or felt anything like it. I was cleaning his desk one moment, maybe bending over a bit too much, and the next he was pulling me back into his arms, and then his lap. His hands were everywhere at once and I was a wet little mess for him. Your father fingered me in his lap while I begged for more, and then he bent me over his desk. He was just controlled enough to not hurt me too much, he understood that however flirty I was I wasn't that experienced, but he was fierce, too. His love left marks."

"Were you okay with that?"

"Of course I was! It was what I wanted. Or, rather, at the time I saw him as my caregiver, the man who stood by me, so I wanted to give him what he wanted. And what he wanted was a curvy little slut to use. At first. So everything was mostly the same, except I was available for him any time he wanted. He fucked me on my back, on all fours, standing up, in every part of the house. He took me to parties and fucked me in the bathrooms and hallways of his friends houses. He fucked my mouth at home and in his car. I couldn't believe how virile he was. And all the time he was still the same man he was before we started having sex. He remained caring, considerate, and mature. He was still encouraging me to go to class and save my money.  He always made sure I came, at some point, even if he had come first."

"God mom. That's...I mean..."

"I know this is a bit shocking to you, but you should know how sexual I am, and how sexual your father was. He had needs, and they slowed down a bit as he aged, but they never stopped. And I was his. Really his, the entire time he was with us. He shocked me by proposing to me when I was in my senior year of college. I wanted that so much, but I never thought that I could be enough for him, I suppose I had some self-esteem issues. I graduated, we got married, and then I got pregnant with you. I wanted more kids but had some fertility issues until we found a treatment that worked, which is why you're so much older than your sisters."

"Okay but...like...why?"

"Why your father?"

"No, I mean...you said you couldn't just tell Dad what you wanted. Why not? You're always very direct and straightforward in every other way, so why not that one?"

Gina sighed, and a certain wistfulness returned to her gaze, as if she had just remembered all she'd lost.

"As I said before, I was raised in a certain way, Vincent. Your grandmother, who was wonderful, taught me lessons that I learned very well. I'm grateful for all of them, but...one of them is really quite unusual."

"More unusual than this conversation?" Vincent said, before laughing. Gina could tell that the wine was affecting him, but hopefully not too much.

Gina wanted her son, but she wanted him to be clear-headed when he made up his mind on what he wanted.