All characters in this story are over eighteen.
Dumbing Down for Mom
I'm Roy. Royster Jenkins Forrester is my full name, thanks to mom. Now you see why I simply go by Roy. I'm twenty, an only child, in college studying pre-med, and still living at home. Dad died two years ago from a heart attack while having sex with my mom, Cassy. She's officially Cassandra Olympia Forrester. It was mom's family who was into the long, off the wall, names.
As a kid, she competed in beauty pageants and won most of them. She was a little cutie and grew into an absolutely gorgeous woman. Her pageant career ended in her teens. She rocked every part of the competition except one. This was the first pageant she had entered that the final points came from a question and how you answer it. Her question was 'What are your thoughts on the present status of China?'
You're probably going to think I'm making this part up. I don't blame you. I didn't believe it either until my dad showed me the video of her answer. She turned to the audience and flashed her beautiful smile then began.
"China has been around for hundreds of years. It's better and stronger now than ever before. China is one of the things, I personally, would have a hard time living without. No one likes eating on paper plates. And those Styrofoam things are just atrocious. I hear people talking about red china sometimes. I'm not impressed with that. Maybe with a black tablecloth it would look alright, but for me, a white tablecloth just feels cleaner. I like simple china, white with a stripe around the edge. A gold stripe is what I like best, especially with gold tableware. I prefer glassware that's clear and maybe a monogram on it. The napkins should be cloth, of course, with a napkin holder that's functional, and complements the rest of the place setting."
I shit you not. That's what she said. Her parents recommended she become a photo model after that. Mom could memorize with the best of them. But thinking and common sense eluded her. If she hadn't been home schooled beginning in the fourth grade, she would never have made it through high school. For the most part, the academics in school aren't much use for any of us unless our chosen careers require them. Common sense is. Mom was apparently putting on her makeup when they handed that out.
Don't get me wrong. I love my mother. She means the world to me, and she did to my dad too. She's sweet, loving, considerate, and always puts her family first in everything. She's an amazing cook and homemaker. She's fun to be around and enjoys little things.
Mom and dad both came from wealthy families, so we've always had the best of everything, big house, nice cars, great vacations, designer clothes. We even had a maid and chauffeur until dad died. Mom let them go after that to give herself more to do. She works out in our home gym and pool daily, and still, even at forty-two has the body and face of a goddess. At five ten and a hundred thirty pounds, she attracts attention.
She rarely leaves our property without me. In public, men are attracted to her like dogs in heat. She went on two dates after dad died and swore off men all together. She said that all they were interested in was her body. I really can't blame them. Even as her son, she makes my dick hard just by being around her. Go ahead and judge me. You probably wouldn't be reading this unless your mom did the same thing to your dick.
That brings us to the point of this story. I decided to do something about it rather than just fantasize. Mom was lonely. She needed someone in her life besides just a son. I'm six feet tall, have a good body, and a nice personality, but I've never had much luck with girls. Academically, I'm downright brilliant. I have enough common sense for both mom and me. I'm just awkward around girls, except mom.
She isn't one of those moms you read about on Literotica that seduces her son, marries him, then has his babies. To get in my mom's pants will require finding her weaknesses and exploiting them. I already know the weak area and came up with a plan. The manila envelope on my desk is the beginning of it. It looks very official. The very professional label on the front reads, 'Personal,' in big red letters. 'Mrs. Cassandra Forrester.' There's no return address, and besides being clipped closed, and sealed, it's been taped shut. I'm presenting it to her this evening at dinner. It's Thursday. She'll read it tonight, but not say anything about it. She'll have all day Friday to formulate her response, then Saturday and Sunday to implement her solution. I'll be an innocent bystander in the entire thing. It took me two weeks to get the letter inside the envelope worded exactly right and I have little doubt that by Sunday I'll be a motherfucker.
Mom and I were sitting at the dinner table on Thursday enjoying the delicious dinner she worked all afternoon creating. It was after we cleared off the table that I gave her the envelope.
"What's this?" she asked.
"My academic counselor gave it to me today. She told me not to open it. It was for you, and only for you, to read."
"Are you in trouble?"
"Mom, I've never been in trouble."
"I wonder what it could be," she said.
See what I mean? Common sense would tell you to open it and find out. She put it on the table.
"Mom, I think you're supposed to see what's inside."
"Oh, yes. I probably should."
"I'll clean up the kitchen and run the dishwasher if you want to do that," I offered.
"Thank you. That's very considerate. Should I open it here?"
"It's marked personal, mom. You probably should read it in private."
"I'll take it to the den then."
She picked up the envelope and left the room. The only times she ever went to the den was to clean or do online shopping. I expected her to take it to the sitting area in her room. She read her romance novels in there. The den was a surprise. I had anticipated her every move, but right out of the gait she did the unexpected. This wasn't a big issue and shouldn't interfere with anything, but it did remind me to keep an eye on variables. As I finished up the kitchen, she read the letter.
My dear Mrs. Forrester,
As you know, your son, Royster, is a brilliant young man with a bright future. I'm sure you are immensely proud of him, and we at the University are proud that he has selected our institution to further his education.
To our great surprise he has been having some difficulty in two of his courses. Two of his professors have brought this to my attention. As part of his pre-med coursework, he has a considerable academic load. If her were unable to complete a course successfully it could ruin his chances of getting into medical school. He has two examinations due next week that could make or break his medical school dream and the professors of both classes have great concerns.
The first course in Anatomy and Physiology, the study of how the human body is put together and how it operates. He has done beautifully in this course until now. The section he is having difficulty with is the reproductive system. Based on the in class quizzes his professor is concerned that he will fail. The professor provided him with access to some books that graphically display female anatomy, yet even with that, his knowledge of the female body is severely lacking.
The second course is related to the first. This is his human sexuality course. Without understanding the reproductive anatomy and physiology, understanding human reproduction would be impossible.
We're afraid that Royston will fail both unless something happens very soon to change it. We've done as much as we can here at the University. I'm hoping that by bringing this to your attention you might find a way to save your son's dreams of becoming a doctor.
What I'm about to suggest may be difficult for you. It is also off the record. Thus, the sealed envelope for your eyes only.
Royston needs to experience a female body. He openly admitted to having no experience with women. A girlfriend would be the obvious first choice but with just a few days until the exams, I doubt that is a possibility. A professional sex worker would also be a possibility. My concern with those is the legality. We certainly wouldn't want Royston spending the weekend in jail for soliciting a prostitute. The second issue there is the possibility of contracting some horrible sexually transmitted disease. Although some are easily curable, others are not. This leads us to our third possibility. A close, very close, female relative. Royston told me that besides you, he has only a grandmother in her eighties, who lives in a nursing facility.
I don't feel comfortable even putting the implications of this on paper. It would take a very loving individual and dedicated woman to take such an over-the-top approach to Royston's needs.
If there is another option which I have not thought of, I would hope that you might recognize it. Royston's future may depend on what you are able to do to help resolve this.
It would be my preference that you do not discuss the contents of this letter with your son. I believe that writing you was the proper approach, but as an academic professional, it is crossing a few ethical lines.
I thank you for your time and consideration in this very important matter.
Sincerely,
M. S., Academic Counsellor.
I wish I could have been there when she read it. I have no doubt she nearly pissed herself toward the end. My assumptions were that she would sit dumbfounded for about an hour, then come and talk to me nonchalantly about how school was going. She wouldn't ask for specifics. She'd ask me about girls and if I had any prospects. Then she would go to the kitchen and make some sort of dessert. We'd enjoy that, along with a glass of wine on the patio before bed. I was right every step of the way. She baked chocolate chip cookies, by the way.
Friday morning, as usual, she was already dressed and looking beautiful when I came down for breakfast.
"You look even more beautiful than usual today, mom. Got a date?"
"Hardly," she replied.
"Yeah, me either." I was laying it on thick.
