Bad Boy Makes Good

It could be said that the trouble began the night of the graduation party, but it really extended back to the days of Kyle's puberty. He had been in trouble of various kinds for all his high school years, and his mother, Leanne, had always been there to get him out of it. Kyle had been a lovely child, but his awakening hormones made him almost impossible to live with, and the tension between him and his parents had been at a high level for years. Leanne's mission in life had been to get her kid through high school, and then out of their lives when he graduated. She was worn down by the effort, as her husband Bud gradually lost the interest or stomach for the chore.

Leanne Marie Hughes threw the small graduation party as much to celebrate the end to her own trials as to mark what was probably the end to Kyle's educational career. She was about to wash her hands of her large handful of a son, and that was cause for celebration.

The evening of the party, as she came out of the hall bathroom headed back to the kitchen, Kyle was there.

"Hey, Mom. What a great party." He hugged her and she gave a half-hearted response.

"Oh, don't thank me. I'm celebrating my own freedom, now that I've gotten you through school. I guess you'll be out on your own soon, which is probably for the best." She wanted to add, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

Kyle was not upset in the least by that. He grinned in her face as he held her against the wall. She was sure he'd sneaked some booze or other drugs into the party. Nothing new there.

"Cool. Well, before I take off, I'll be hanging around this summer to get my shit together."

"I thought you and those two 'friends' of yours were off on an adventure. What happened to that idea?" she asked.

"Yeah, well, Chuck and Dave are still going. At the end of summer they're gonna come back for me. There's still some stuff I wanna do here in town."

"Like what?"

Kyle grinned and fingered the collar on her blouse as if to look down her cleavage.

"I wanna see those tits before I go."

"That's my boy," she thought. "Crass and provocative as ever. I will be so glad to see him leave for good!"

"Never gonna happen, loser," Leanne retorted, brushing his hand away.

He paused, staring into her face at close range. "What would it take for you to give me a peek at your tits?"

She played along with the banter. She was used to his outrageous talk and not giving this creep any advantage by acting shocked. She'd hit him where it hurt.

"Oh, you'd have to stay out of trouble, for one thing. You'd have to stay sober, get a job, go to work every day, help pay for your room and board, get into a college this fall, start acting like a man, keep your shit cleaned up, stay away from those two whores you invited into my house. In other words, there's no way."

"I can do that," Kyle replied. He turned and walked back down the hall and out to the patio, where the party continued. Leanne shook it off and went back in the kitchen to restock the snacks.

_____________

When it got to be 11 o'clock the following Monday, with no sign of Kyle, Leanne decided to go to his room and harass him. No sense in making this summer too easy for him. But she was surprised to find that he was not there. As she looked around, she was astonished to see the room was tidy.

Kyle returned at dinner time, cleanly dressed and shaven. When she asked him where he'd been, his answer shocked her.

"Looking for a job. There's not a lot out there for me, but I did get a good feeling about this landscape job. I had to feed them some shit about how I'd used lawn mowers and weed whackers since I was 10. But how hard could it be?"

"Are you kidding? You know how hard working outdoors in the heat is? You won't last 10 minutes," Bud told his son.

"I'll get a hat," Kyle said, smiling.

Two days later, Kyle began his landscaping career. For four solid weeks, he was up early and out to work. At the end of the first week, Leanne found an envelope addressed to her on the kitchen table. It contained cash and a note from Kyle about his room and board. Every week from then on, she found a new envelope.

Periodically, Leanne peeked into his room, and it was always spotless. In the evenings, he was mostly by himself in his room. She never got a hint that he was drinking or getting in trouble. Of all the bizarre behavior Kyle had ever exhibited, this change was the most troubling.

_____________

Saturday's were Bud's golf days, without fail. He was ten years older than Leanne, which hadn't seemed to matter much when they got married, but Bud was over 50 now, and his romantic inclinations had taken a hit. He seemed more interested in clubbing a small white ball to death than in rolling around in bed with his wife. That left Leanne with needs that weren't being met, except by her own hand.

This particular Saturday morning, Kyle found his mom on the couch, thumbing through a magazine. He sat down on the hassock in front of her, moving her feet to the floor.

"So, whadda you think I want now?" he said. Kyle had a way of starting a conversation in the middle.

Leanne stared, trying to decipher him. Finally, she said, "Pardon me?"

"Come on. I keep my room clean, I got a job, I contribute, I haven't gone out drinking. You said if I did all that stuff you'd show me your tits. So, let's see 'em."

She was flabbergasted. He'd said shocking things to her routinely for years, but he really wasn't kidding this time. He actually expected her to open her blouse and expose her breasts, right here on the couch. She collected her wits and fought back.

"I never said that. I never promised to show you anything. That was not a serious conversation. You'd been drinking. Besides, I think I mentioned you getting into college." That last one would clinch it, she thought.

"Done. Remember when you applied to La Mancha College for me? Well, it turns out, they have a small program for misfits and bad boys. Some kind of sociological experiment. They figure I qualify as a bad boy. I start in late August. Turns out they'll let almost anybody go there."

"My god," she thought. "That was a Hail Mary application. I never thought he'd have a chance at that one."

Kyle was looming over her, his hands on the edge of the couch as he leaned in, inches from his mother's face. His knees were outside of hers, and she felt a bit trapped.

"You're no prude," he continued. "I know you've been to nude beaches in your life. I'll bet you've sunbathed topless. You've showed off your boobs to rank strangers. And those breasts of yours were made for me, anyway. I've seen them as a baby. You nursed me on those, remember? What could it hurt to show 'em to me again?"

"Don't let him intimidate you!" her brain screamed. She had made a career of giving him as good as she got. She took the offensive, hoping a bluff would shame and embarrass him.

"Okay, you nasty baby boy. You can see Mommy's titties, just this once. You cannot grab them, you cannot brag to your friends, and this will not be repeated. I guess you're not man enough to find a woman for yourself, so you have to stare at your Mommy, you titty baby. Well, here you go." She paused to see if he would blink, but he didn't.

Reluctantly, Leanne raised her T-shirt, reached behind her and unclasped her bra, lifting the cups over her medium sized breasts. She sat defiant, daring him to say something disparaging about her middle aged mammaries. She fully expected ridicule or crudeness from this kid she'd given birth to.

But Kyle had no words for her. No childish grin. He looked appreciatively. Then, turning his head to the side, he hugged her breasts to his cheek. He stayed that way for what seemed to her a long time. The gesture was so sweet that Leanne put her hands gently to his back and other cheek, patting her son softly.

Kyle pulled back, giving her chest another appreciative look. Without looking in her face, he stood, mumbling "Thanks, Mom", and walked toward the hallway and his bedroom.

"Okay," she thought, sitting there with her boobs still uncovered. "This is too weird. He's topped his previous pinnacle of weirdness just about every day this summer, but now, surely, he'll have no topper for this one."

_____________

When the mind is in turmoil, it can find itself going in many directions looking for solace and answers. Among the directions Leanne's mind took after the couch incident was to travel back to her own days in high school. Being intelligent and above average in looks, she'd soon learned to use and enjoy the powers she held over the boys at school. Some of them called her a tease, but her sexuality was the chief weapon available against the physical and aggressive capabilities of young men hyped up on testosterone. She became very adept at controlling the boys' physical power with her feminine charms. A glance and a smile was enough to get her asked out to the prom by the right guy. A quick kiss and a promise of more would get her further dates. In the end, she always held tightly to the reins and only "gave in" when it suited her. She liked the games, because they were rigged in her favor.

Those memories led her to thoughts of Kyle's "whores", as she had called them. Jan and Janet. They had been at the graduation party, but she'd seen them before and had them pegged. Slutty clothes, too much make up. Well, maybe she'd been a bit that way in high school, too. Surely not to that extreme, but she understood the feeling of power they were enjoying while tying all the boys up in knots. She began to wonder if she didn't feel a little jealousy when she looked at Jan and Janet.

Kyle had taken to joining his mother for breakfast on Saturdays. Bud was never there, having always procured an early tee time. In her more frustrated moments, Leanne had wondered what kind of a man would rather get up at the crack of dawn to play golf, of all things, when he could be lounging in bed with his beautiful wife. Who was it who said that golf is a good walk spoiled? Golf spoiled a lot of things for her.

One of those Saturday breakfasts in mid-July, Leanne ventured to ask Kyle about the "whores". She was trying to look casual, drinking the last of her coffee and browsing on her tablet.

"So, have you been sneaking around with those two whores from the graduation party this summer?"

"Jan and Janet. Nah, I haven't seen them around much. I think Janet's parents packed her off some place. Maybe she got pregnant. Janet is a Jan wannabe. Her real name isn't even Janet, but we call her that because she's a 'mini-me' type. Jan teaches her everything, and Janet then goes out on her own to try it out. Janet's not as smart, though. I think Jan may have found herself a boyfriend. It's a damned shame, really. Did I ever tell you how I got to know her?"

"No. Do I really want to know that?" Leanne kept up the casual web browsing.

"It's a pretty good story. She was in my English class this past year. We hadn't really talked. One day she bounced into class wearing a mini skirt, with her legs bare. Everybody stared, and I don't know why she hadn't been sent home to change. I was sitting near the back, and she sat down behind me. I kept thinking about those bare legs. So, when the teacher was writing some shit on the board, I did the old pen drop. You know that one?"

"Oldest trick in the lecher's handbook."

"Yeah, I guess. I 'dropped' my pen, bent to pick it up, and turned my head to peek under that mini. When I did, she actually spread her legs, and I could see all the way to her pink panties. Spent the rest of class trying to get my boner to go down.

"When class was over, I followed her out and walked behind her to her locker. I said, 'Hey' and she turned around and smiled. Shit eating grin, really. I started to make small talk, but she cut me off and said, 'You should warn me when you're gonna drop your pen. I would have taken the panties off if I'd known you were gonna do that.' Wow. When I got my breath back, I told her to be ready next time, and she was. After that, we got pretty close."

"I suppose you always try to look up girls dresses and down their blouses," Leanne said sourly.

"Sure do. I've even tried to look up your skirt. No luck, though. Maybe I should try again, right now."

Leanne was getting tense with the way this conversation was turning.

"Oh, I don't think your tricks will work on me. I know them all. Besides, you don't have a pen on you."

"Yeah, but I've got this spoon. Hmmm," he said, as the spoon hit the floor.

"Kyle..."

No answer, as Kyle slipped out of his chair onto the floor and under the kitchen table. Once again, her son had maneuvered her into a compromised position. She could jump up and give him the satisfaction of her reaction. Or, she could pretend nothing was happening. She was pretty sure he couldn't see much other than the lower half of her legs, her nightgown having slid up slightly above her knees. "He's certainly seen more of me in a bathing suit," she rationalized.

It seemed like he was "looking" for the spoon for several minutes. She couldn't see him at all. She half expected him to touch her for the shock value, but he kept his distance.

"Found it. Guess I'll go to my room now," said Kyle as he emerged from beneath the table. Then he was gone, and Leanne noticed how fast her heart was beating. She had no idea what was on her browser screen. She was trembling, excited, flustered, and she didn't know why.

_____________

The kitchen incident fueled a week of distracted agitation, flying dreams, sexual fantasy, and frustration with her less than romantic husband. She tried talking to Bud about Kyle, but she knew she couldn't tell him what had been going on really.

"Yeah, Kyle is a different kid this summer. I don't know what you're doing, but whatever it is, keep it up." That was Bud's take on the changes in his son. To Leanne, it sounded almost like permission for her to feed her own fantasies and push the boundaries a bit more. She knew that Bud would never even approve of what had happened so far, but in her state of mind, or mindlessness, nothing made real sense.

The next Saturday morning, when breakfast was over, Leanne was about to get up and do dishes when she glanced at her son as he bumped the spoon onto the floor. Clutching her plate, she kept her seat.

"Darned ol' gravity!" Kyle disappeared under the table again.

Her right leg moved to the side, as if it were trying to get her to stand. The effect was to spread her legs a bit and inch her night gown up. Instead of rising, she crossed her legs. Then, within a few seconds, she uncrossed and recrossed them a couple of times, as if her legs were restless. Just knowing he was down there, unseen, looking at her legs, gave Leanne palpitations. She was unconsciously flashing her inner thighs, and it was disconcerting to her that every movement seemed a provocation. In disgust, she stood.

"I've gotta get this kitchen cleaned up. When you find that spoon, drop it in the sink." Leanne began grabbing plates and putting butter and such back in the fridge. Her son touched her shoulder, put the spoon on the counter and walked out without a word.

_____________

Not much passed between Leanne and her son that following week. He was still working, still leaving part of his pay for her, still keeping his room tidy. He hadn't, to her knowledge, gone out to get drunk or in trouble.

Leanne's fantasies and distraction continued. Bud even noticed she was unfocused, and took her to dinner to break her out of her preoccupied state. Once again, the conversation turned to Kyle, and Bud lauded his wife for her good work converting their son into a human being. Again, he encouraged her to "keep up the good work".

During her days, spent largely by herself, she relived in her mind specific situations where she had used her sexuality to manipulate some young man. Once again, she felt that old power and excitement. It was so different with Bud. Their relationship was one of equality. It lacked the spirit and adventure of the chase. Frankly, she hadn't been this turned on in years, and her frequent masturbation testified to that. It was a physical high, and she knew that she would need another fix soon. Like next Saturday morning, for instance.

They were now into early August, and the heat outside was almost unbearable. But Kyle continued to work, despite the heat. He was looking strong and tanned and much more like a man than ever before. She imagined that those college girls he'd meet in a few weeks would want to eat him up. He had that "bad boy" way about him that would be irresistible to young women. Bottom line, he'd be up to his neck in young pussy.

Thinking this gave her a twinge of jealousy. Here she was, at her sexual peak and mostly doing without the loving she craved. Before her eyes, the lout of a son she'd wanted gone had turned into a sex fantasy, just about the time he was headed out the door for good. So, why should she not take advantage of the situation while it lasted? Just heavy flirting, of course.

She had no intention of actually committing incest with Kyle, but she had a few weeks to enjoy the high she was on. Bud would always be too nearby to risk any fall into sin. That would be the brake she needed to keep her on the safe and moral side. And ultimately, Kyle was bluffing with his provocative behavior. He would never aspire to be an actual "mother fucker". (She shuddered at the words.) She could give herself a bit of freedom to indulge in self gratification and flirting, free from actual risk.

That next Saturday morning arrived, and Leanne was prepared. An early shower, light make up, hair brushed. Today, she wore a pink spaghetti strap slip that came to mid thigh, instead of her usual night gown. With no bra, her nipples were prominent, and the slip allowed a nice view of curvature through the arm holes. Her bikini panty line was visible.

She was setting the table when Kyle came in, stopped and grinned as he stared at his mom. He recognized the game and was into it. They ate, not saying much. Leanne was browsing on her tablet again as a distraction to let Kyle checked her out, glancing at her face for clues, and her nipples for fun. When they'd both finished, he picked up his spoon, smiling, and simply dropped it on the floor.

Under the table, she was barefooted, her legs crossed at the knee. In a move like a cat, she uncrossed and stretched her legs, spreading her thighs in the process. She pulled her heels back, opened her legs wide, and slid her ass forward on the chair, showing her son the maximum amount of pink-clad pussy.

Kyle gasped audibly. She closed and opened her thighs rhythmically, as if trying to maximize their openness and radiate her scent on each iteration. She let him look as long as he wanted, neither of them saying a word. The bikinis worked their way into her slit. At one point, she ran her fingers over her vulva provocatively. Dampness appeared at the bottom of the slit. She was practically begging for some contact from Kyle, but he never touched her. Instead, after several minutes on the floor, he crawled out from under the table, adjusted his shorts, and headed out of the kitchen.

"I...I'm going to my room."

She was so turned on she masturbated right there at the kitchen table, coming so hard she almost fell off her chair. As she passed her son's room on the way to her own, she heard the unmistakable sounds of his sexing, his door having been left wide open. Leanne was tempted to look in but only listened at the door for a bit.

_____________

Now they were partners in the game. The whole of the following week they indulged in surreptitious communication and touches. Kyle expounded at dinner about how much he liked the color pink. Later he whispered to her that there was another shade of pink he liked even more. He told her he was so clumsy that he was sure he would drop another spoon on Saturday, and he hoped she would be ready. Bud noticed the change in their interaction and chalked it up to the fact that Kyle was leaving in a couple of weeks.