Jesse And Michelle

Michelle was standing in the sun-bathed kitchen, holding a stainless steel whisk in one hand and steadying a bowl with flour, cocoa powder, and salt in the other. She hummed a soft tune as she mixed the ingredients. The oven was heating up, and a pan with melted butter was cooling down on a turned-off stove plate.

Her tune got interrupted when the front door swung open. 'I'm home,' Jesse announced, shedding his trainers and putting them on the rack by the key bowl. He crossed the living room and headed for the stairs. 'I'll be in my room,' he added curtly.

'Hey, wait, wait!' Michelle called. 'What's the hurry? How was school?'

'It was fine,' he said, holding onto the railing with one hand. His face was flushed, and his brown hair was dishevelled. 'Nothing noteworthy.'

'And how are your studies coming along?' She was leaning on the kitchen aisle, bowl and whisk shoved aside. She narrowed her pale blue eyes. He was being weird, she thought, weird and hurried and mentally somewhere else. 'Are you looking forward to finishing school? Looking forward to college?'

'Sure am,' he answered. He was gyrating his right heel absentmindedly, observing the hardwood floor in great detail. 'And I want to put in the hours today, so I'll be in my room and cram some biology, yeah?'

Biology, she thought and smiled mischievously. 'How's that girl, by the way?' The mention of her deepened his blush's shade of red. 'The one you mentioned over dinner the other day?'

'S-She's good,' he said, driving a hand through his ruffled hair. 'She's also chosen biology as her elective, so we agreed to meet later this week...You know, quiz each other.' He started up the stairs again.

'Oh, that's nice,' she said, tossing her blonde mane and putting on a brilliantly white smile. However, there was a wrinkle to her eyebrows as she traced her son's gaze. It wasn't at eye level, she noticed. She glanced down at herself--had she spilt flour on her sweater?--and scrutinised her bosom. Her crossed arms propped it up, accentuating the size. She trailed his line of sight twice more, then smiled again.

Meanwhile, Jesse was looking puzzled. 'Is there anything else?'

'No, no!' She straightened her back and grasped the whisk, toying with it, gazing at Jesse from beneath her lashes. A dimple dotted her left cheek. He stopped staring, back to twiddling his fingers and rubbing his heel into the floor. 'Just...Let me know if you need me to drive you.'

The washing machine's beep-beep-beep sounded from upstairs.

'I will.'

Jesse was sitting in his room. His phone was propped up on an eraser, angled for better viewing, and his shorts were bundled around his ankles. His breathing was sharp and sporadic, and the grip around his penis was tight as a strangle.

He didn't expect it'd take too long; he was pent up. He'd spent most of the half-hour train ride necking with Aubrey. A strong gust of wind could've set him off, but his mum had to interrupt, and his excitement had waned. For a split second, his mind returned to her chest--she hadn't displayed any cleavage, but the outline had been enough to stoke his thoughts--but he banished it immediately. And then he'd been obsessing over finding a video featuring an actress at least resembling Aubrey--which resulted in a quarter-hour browsing through the red-headed sections of popular websites.

Dawn-coloured hair, milky skin...the images fuelled his vigour. His breathing quickened further, and his pulse thumped in his ears as his hand moved up and down on his lap. He wasn't in the habit of watching porn with sound, but enough pre-cum had leaked from his tip that a soft squelching sound accompanied every thrust. It got to the point where he couldn't hear his mother's footsteps, only noticing her intrusion after she'd flung the door to his room wide open.

'Oh!' she exclaimed. 'I'm sorry! So, so sorry! I didn't mean to intrude on you like that, during...that...'

Jesse gasped, and his hand slipped. For a second, he feared he might've torn his frenulum, but that fright quickly subsided beneath his mother's supervision. He grabbed his member and stuffed it into his boxers, then stooped and scrambled to pull up his shorts. His flush grew tomato red. He cocked his head at his mum and said, 'How about knocking?' His voice was tinged with exasperation and humiliation.

She was standing in the doorway, hefting a bundle of fleshly-washed and neatly folded clothing. She had made no attempt to leave the room, close the door, or raise a hand before her eyes. 'Oh, don't be so bashful,' she said, then strolled to his wardrobe on the left-hand side. She put away his clothes. 'I'm your mother. There's nothing you need hide from me, especially when it comes to something as natural as masturbation.'

The M-word seemed to cause even more offence with Jesse, and he looked at her with exaggerated shock. 'D-Don't talk like that! Not in front of me, at least. Can you...can you leave my room? I want to do some studying now...' He was still hard and pressing down on his lap with both hands, turning the backrest of his chair to hide as much as he could.

'Studying,' Michelle repeated with innuendo. 'Sure, of course.' She closed the wardrobe and walked back to the door. 'But...talking about biology, you know it's nothing to be ashamed of, right? You're not the only one doing it,' she added with a coy grin. 'It's not like I was unaware of your habits. Who do you think empties the bin beneath your desk?'

'Please just get out!'

'All right,' she said defensively. 'No need to get worked up, young man. Helpful hint: your door locks.'

His mother ducked out. She closed the door behind herself, and Jesse allowed himself to relax. The pressure he'd put on his crotch had worked against him, and his cock was still stiff. He was about to pull it out again and pick up where he left off when--

'Oh, and...' Michelle peeked in through a crack '...I've made a batch of brownies. Come down when you're done with your...studying. Make it quick so they don't get cold!'

'Mum! For fuck's sake...'

'...okay, okay...'

'You seem a little tense.'

'I'm just...stressed. Lots of schoolwork left to do.'

'Did you...?'

'What?'

'Well...' Michelle put down her half-eaten brownie and gestured an up-and-down motion, her hand shaped into a cylinder '...finish?' She then picked up her tall glass of milk and gulped down two mouthfuls.

Meanwhile, Jesse's expression dropped. 'Can we not talk about that? It's totally inappropriate...'

'It's not,' Michelle said calmly, licking her lips. 'Who do you think taught children about the birds and the bees before schools started teaching it? Mothers and fathers. And who do you think--if you were a girl--would help you with your period? That's right'--she smiled--'yours truly. The only inappropriate aspect is your reluctance to be frank with me! I'm your mother, Jesse.'

During her monologue, he hadn't touched any of the brownies piled on his plate and had to take a big sip to cool down before speaking up. 'All right,' he said, 'but even so, I don't want to talk about it. No offence to you and to mothership in general, I guess. I don't feel comfortable talking about it with you.'

'That's okay.'

'Is it?'

'It is,' she said softly. His avoidance of eye contact might've stemmed from the topic she'd decided to tackle once more. It might've also stemmed from the fact that she'd changed into a beige sweater with a plunging neckline after accidentally staining her crew-necked one earlier. 'It is perfectly fine. I won't press it.'

'Thank you,' he said.

'Just remember to lock your door next time, all right?'

He sighed. 'I will.'

Aubrey was nibbling his neck. Her delicate hands slung around his shoulders, and she squirmed against him, half-nestled on his lap, glimpsing the outside rush past here and there as the train chugged along. 'Jesse?' she asked tentatively, her hot breath tingling his earlobe.

'Hmm? Yeah?'

'Are you all right?'

Not really, he thought. After a moment, he asked, 'Can I ask you something?'

'Sure,' she said, shuffling back and looking him in the eyes. Hers were green and curious, and her plump red lips sat slightly agape. 'What is it?'

'Eh, it's a tad personal if it's no matter.'

'Shoot,' she grinned.

Before shooting, he questioned himself. Usually, he'd be eager to use every single second on the train to grind up on her--or have her grind up on him--sucking lips and getting in as much intimate touch as the ambience of a train cabin allowed. But he wasn't in it with his head just then.

'I just...' he looked out the window at the bucolic, green vistas. Vast fields glistened gold beneath the sun, and sparse, sprawling farmhouses littered about. '...I just wanted to ask how much you share with your mother?'

'How much about what?' she asked, frowning.

'Personal stuff, like...your period. Or boys? About like, really, really personal stuff, you know?'

'Why are you asking?' Her lips were no longer agape, and the red blush on her cheeks washed out. She started getting her clothing in order, fixing the stretched-out neckline and pulling down its hem. It had ridden up her midriff, exposing stark white skin and that soft, little groove running down the centre.

'Just answer, will you?'

'Well...' she glanced at him from below her lashes '...I share quite a bit with my mum. Wait, wait, wait. You aren't worried she might disapprove of you as my boyfriend, are you? You have nothing to worry about. She knows I'm dating, and she knows I already lost my virginity. I think it's pretty normal, don't you?'

'Is it?'

'Well, yeah. She's my mother, and she wants to make sure I'm healthy and make no stupid decisions. She was glad when I started asking her about contraceptives. Any other weird questions, or do you wanna...?'

Jesse drove a hand through his hair and looked at her with a visibly more relaxed expression. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I wanna...'

She squealed playfully, leaned in, and put her full lips on his.

'C'mon. Open the door, Jesse.'

'You're the one who told me to lock it!'

'I've got fresh sheets for you,' Michelle argued. 'Let me in so I can put them in your wardrobe. Please.'

'Put them on the floor,' he replied, 'I'll collect them later. When I'm done...studying!'

'I won't do that. They'll get dusty.'

'You drive the vacuum through that hallway twice a week; there literally can't be any dust! Frankly, you could eat off that floor.'

Michelle glanced at the floor and smirked with satisfaction--he was quite right. But she didn't want to budge. 'Open the door, Jesse. Come on. I've told you already, there's nothing to be ashamed about! I'll even keep my eyes closed. I promise.'

She heard a disgruntled grumble, then footsteps. The lock clicked, and the door fell open with a silent whimper. Jesse's complexion was fired up again, and one of his hands hovered in front of his crotch. Not quite inconspicuous.

'Thank you,' Michelle said, smiling warmly. There were no textbooks on his desk, she noticed, and wandered toward the wardrobe to stow away the sheets, covers, and linen. When she turned back around to face Jesse, his eyes grew wide. The bundle she'd carried had hidden her chest from view, as well as the plunging neckline of her white sweater. She grinned, tilted her head, and then grimaced. 'Can we drop the charades, honey?'

'Huh?' Jesse slinked to his chair, his lower body vanishing behind the backrest. He intertwined his hands above it.

'Be honest with me! We both know what you were up to just now. It makes me feel guilty when you act secretive and abashed.' She pouted. 'Like I fumbled my chance, made you grow up with a twisted sense of embarrassment. And ever since your father passed away...'

'Okay, okay!' He stopped her before she could expand on her guilt trip.

'I'm just saying,' she muttered, fluttering her lashes, 'that there's this rift between us. And it's gotten worse ever since your father passed. Don't you think so, too? We don't even watch films together anymore.'

'I mean, I don't...I wouldn't have thought of it that way...'

'In a normal household, you shouldn't ever feel the need to lock the door,' she mumbled.

'But you told me to lock it,' he protested.

'I did,' she admitted, 'but I didn't think it'd hurt like that. Wouldn't you be much less stressed and on edge if you didn't have to look over your shoulder and listen for footsteps each time you wanted to...blow off steam?'

'I don't...' his line of sight had slowly wandered downward, and whipped back up to meet his mother's piercing blue eyes '...I don't think I could get used to that.'

'To what?'

'To you...just walking in while I'm...you know...'

'Studying?' She asked pointedly.

'Exactly.'

'I already told you,' she cooed, 'I'll keep my eyes averted. I'm only interested in putting away the clothes as soon as they're out of the washer, dusting your room a little, collecting the bin liner when it's overflowing with tissues. You know I don't like to have my routine interrupted when I'm cleaning--and it's not like you're willing to take care of it.'

A short silence followed.

Jesse then sighed and muttered a defeated, 'All right...'

'So you'll stop being so bashful and allow us to have a normal, non-shameful, non-embarrassed mother-son relationship?'

'...I will.'

Over the coming days, Michelle instituted some changes to her routine. And also her style of dress.

As for the former, she decided to follow her own advice. The door to the main bedroom stood open, day and night. It was located at the far end of the hall--roughly seven metres from Jesse's. She feared he'd attribute his sudden awareness of his mother's intimate habits to an active, conscious effort on her part. After all, he'd never caught her before.

Therefore, she introduced certain changes slowly and subtly. He never happened upon her in the middle of the act; he saw her right before or right after but never spread-eagled on the bed. Only red-cheeked and wet-handed, stuffing the occasional toy beneath her pillow, hemming and hawing and giggling nervously.

As for the latter, she decided to raid her clothes cupboard, hunting down the pieces she hadn't for some time--those with plunging necklines, skimpier skirts, tight-fitting and curve-hugging dresses and all things fancy. Most were shoved into the less accessible nooks and crannies, buried underneath heaps of modest and mostly beige, of unrevealing, of uninteresting.

This sudden change in affairs must have upset Jesse, who cancelled his meeting with Aubrey. Michelle feigned interest and concern. Behind closed doors, however, she fixed her makeup and examined her 39-year-old body in the standing mirror, a lewd smile plastered on her lips and an itch in her loins.

It had been a while since she'd had sex. All the men she met were either ugly or uninteresting, too self-absorbed or uncivilised, not her type, dim-witted, rash or brash or bad-tempered...And it took a whole other woman to make her realise that she'd been sitting on a suitable match this entire time! Aubrey had stirred something inside her boy, and Michelle was keen on reaping what that redhead had sown.

After all, she wasn't out to whip up a whole new family. This was solely sensual, and she had often highlighted the importance of proper protection to her son, so there was nothing to worry about.

On a Tuesday, Michelle lay in bed. Her toes curled into the bedsheets, and her vibrator buzzed eagerly between her naked thighs. She tossed and turned and tousled her blonde mane. The bed frame squeaked now and again whenever her hips bucked involuntarily or when she turned over on her slim stomach, rebreathing the hot, steamy breaths exhaled into the down pillow, assisting the toy with her fingers as she nudged and massaged her clitoris, her dainty arm wedged between her belly and the mattress.

'Hmm...' she moaned, frustrated, rubbing her thighs against each other. It didn't do it for her. 'Hmm...hmm...Ugh.' She unclenched her legs and loosened her jaw, and the vibrator--slick with her juices--slid out of its warm pocket and whirred against the silken sheets. She picked it up and hit the off button.

'Maybe I'm going too far...' she murmured, her face buried in the red satin covers of her pillow. 'Maybe I shouldn't...Maybe I've gone too far...Or have I?'

Her arousal felt no qualms, unambiguously batting for one side--she hadn't gone far enough. Her son was an adult, and so was she. Modern contraceptives made pregnancy utterly unlikely--nobody was interested in making a baby. Two consenting adults in it for the sex. Nothing wrong with that, right?

The other side--the rational, moral, dissenting side--was just as unambiguous: a mother sleeping with her son was wrong. But what if he looked belligerently handsome like his father? Not too brawny, but sinewy. Lean and healthy, with chestnut hair and steel-grey eyes. That rosy charm which came so easily to his cheeks.

She groaned, undecided, and rolled onto her back. Her supple breasts flattened against her chest and spilt a little over the sides, lacking some of the firmness and perk of their younger years. She cupped the left one in a hand and kneaded, absentminded. She was trying to salvage the mood as the moral conundrum plagued her head.

'And even if it's a wee bit wrong...' she pinched a stiff, pink nipple '...what of it? Another woman would introduce vices of her own! At least I'd be genuinely interested, dedicated, capable of teaching him how to treat the opposite sex, please it...Not like the snot-nosed brats his age. Aubrey...tsk...' She was a sweet girl, Michelle knew, but she was trying to win a mental debate here.

'I've taught him so much.' Her unoccupied hand slithered past her midriff, rounding her belly button, and massaged her lower lips. Her fingers moved in generous, circular motions, slowly and deliberately. 'So much,' she moaned softly. 'What's wrong with teaching him how to pleasure a woman?'

Her breathing quickened. Taking him under her wing... 'Hmm...' That thought salvaged the mood. She was sure he hadn't lost his virginity yet, and she'd make sure he wouldn't pick up any bad habits the first time round. Her erogenous zones flared up, and she moaned without inhibitions. She had another five undisturbed minutes, she knew. Jesse wouldn't come home for another... 'Hmm...' Another five minutes...

She stopped squeezing and tugging at her nipple and turned up the vibrator, pressing it up against her clit, clamping her thighs, toes curling. She arched her back and bucked her hips. A shiver travelled up her shaved legs, dissipating in her curvaceous hips. For a moment, she considered whether these sheets would fit into the next load, feeling her juices leaking, then turned onto her side, two fingers circling the space beneath her clit, the vibrator digging into her pussy, stretching her lips, held in place by her posture, causing a tremble to rock up her spine.

'Mmh!' she groaned.

'I'm home!' Jesse's voice echoed from downstairs.

'Oh, fuck,' she mumbled in a breathy, sinuous voice. She was about to climax. She couldn't stop-- 'Mmh! Fuck!' Her hips bucked fiercely, driving against the mattress and shaking the bed frame, demanding another squeal of its joints. She pressed her lips tight, trying to restrain her moans, shaking and rattling. Her body spasmed, and she listened as Jesse's footsteps grew nearer.

He was climbing up the staircase.

'Mum?'

Her entire body spasmed, and she shimmied off the bed on jittering legs and weak arms, hobbling toward the chair over which she'd thrown her jeans and the blouse. The vibrator remained on the bed, buzzing away. She was hunched over, her hands still clamped between her wet and naked thighs. She didn't go through the trouble of cleaning up--no time.