This is my stand-alone submission for the April Fool's Day 2019 contest. For readers of my other "Mom is a..." story, this is not a continuance, nor is the plot in any way comparable. This one was purely for fun and should not be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form!
Thanks & Enjoy.
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Mom is a Fool
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and I'd spent most of it playing video games, doing little more than performing a disservice to the world by turning oxygen into carbon dioxide. Not that I was a waste of space in general. It was just that kind of weekend; the kind that's meant for squandering after a week of toil and sweat. Football season was long over, I wasn't raised the church-going type, and all I had to distract myself was Mom and digitized violence.
At last, I heard it; the trap had finally been sprung. An air horn howled, then followed Mom's piercing scream, including a few choice four-letter words. I chuckled and shut off the TV in my room, expecting my victim to appear momentarily.
The door swung open and I beheld my sweet Ma. Her face was red and her mouth gaped opened and closed like a suffocating fish. The front of her pants was wet between her legs.
Oh, shit.
"Look what you made me do!" she squawked, swinging her forearms up and down like she was about to karate chop her crotch.
I couldn't help it; I roared with laughter which made her even more furious. She steamed in my doorway, stomping her feet and sputtering like she'd swallowed an ant.
"You...you...you're gonna pay for this, Dax! You little..." She couldn't say it. She couldn't call me names; she was too much of a sweetheart. Maybe that's why I'd done it, or maybe it was the boredom, or maybe it was because I loved it when she got all fired up.
I didn't have time for further contemplations because at that moment my sweet little Mom did something so unexpected that my body lost the ability to do anything but stare in surprise. She took off her pants and reared back to throw them at me. My eyes drifted south as I proved unable to affect the type of control one would typically posses in such a situation. What drew my attention wasn't so much her bare skin as the sheer nature of her wet panties. I learned two things that lazy afternoon: Mom was apparently skilled with a razor, and her choice of undies was racier than I'd ever considered.
I had only a split second to appreciate her exquisite landing strip and the contours of her dainty nethers, brought to clarity through the thin wet fabric that hugged her feminine curves. Her hips twisted and she launched her jeans through my doorway, or tried, at least. The heavy denim got wrapped around her fist which threw her off balance, causing her to punch the door frame. To make matters worse, her feet weren't in the right spots and her lack of coordination sent her hips shooting out sideways while the rest of her petite frame folded and fell to the ground in a heap.
"Fuck!"
You see, Mom is a fool.
Don't get me wrong; she's not stupid, far from it. Her problems were entirely caused by her trusting nature, outgoing demeanor, and complete lack of coordination. Mom had a spirited and whimsical streak to the point of fairly being labeled a frisky flirt. This conflicting combination of characteristics only served to get her into trouble time and time again. She would ask for it and be surprised when she got it, and then she'd lack the common sense or motor skills to extricate herself from the situation. I had bailed her out of some shit over the years and I'm barely old enough to order a shot at the bar.
"Help me up, Dax!"
Mom was hopelessly twisted up in her soiled jeans, flailing about on the floor. She flipped over, finally able to get to her knees, and it took everything I had to keep my mouth shut. Her underwear seemed to be missing the majority of its material when it came around to her backside. Mom's ass was tight and I couldn't help but pause for a gander. Christ, look at those smooth curves! I had no idea. Well, that's not entirely true; let's just say I'd never stood staring at her like an idiot before.
Her head started to turn back towards me and I snapped out of my trance just in time to avoid being caught with my mouth hanging open. I stepped forward and grabbed her narrow waist and hoisted her little body up with one quick tug. I stood easily a foot over her; I was never a small boy. People loved making stupid comments when we were out together. "That poor lady, how'd that giant ever fit inside her." Christ, thanks for the visualization, jackass.
"Umph," she grunted as I set her down. "Thanks, dear." She spun around and thwacked my chest with her jeans.
"Sorry 'bout that, Ma," I offered, raising my arms in self-defense in case she decided to take another swing. I had intended to surprise her, but not enough that she'd wet herself and then proceed to act the fool in my doorway. The tricks were a thing we've done for years and trust me when I say she could dish it out as well as she could take it. I didn't really feel bad; I knew my time was coming and I'd have to be extra careful now.