Stimmy Just Sounds Wrong

"Got my stimmy!" Carol heard her son shout as she walked out of the kitchen and through their living area.

"Stimmy?" Carol asked with a laugh.

"Stimulus check. Fourteen hundred big ones!" he answered, waving the envelope in his mom's direction.

"Yeah, I figured it out. Just kind of sounds wrong."

"Why? Stimulus. Stimmmulus. Stim. Stimmy."

"Again, I get it. But it kind of sounds like," she paused and twisted her mouth, "a stiffy."

"Aw gross Mom. How do you even know that word?"

"Your generation isn't the only one that makes up words. Heck, you didn't even make up most of your made up words."

"No, I just kind of thought that's something guys say to mock each other."

"Yeah, boys don't have some secret code. Women can mock stiffies too. You know, like, sounds like you got a stiffy for that stimmy. Didn't even earn that stimmy but you're stimulated to a stiffy."

"Gross Mom. Go back to whatever old person thing you were doing."

Carol chuckled and went up to her office. She knew his age jokes were just jokes. She was a pretty young mom - at the same age her son was shouting about a "stimmy," she was pushing him out of her vagina. She was glad he was still immature; her daughter was three years younger but already felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her husband was the same way: years of the grind had left him barely a pulp, and perhaps their daughter subconsciously took after him. Carol thought to that racist, sexist meme of the stick figure husband doing everything to provide for his wife then she cheats because he didn't meet her emotional needs. Despicable as that meme was, the description was not inaccurate, except Carol would never cheat and she understood her husband's side of things. But their son did not understand the reality of the world yet, which was probably why he was closer to Carol than to his dad. Her husband couldn't handle the youthful exuberance, not as worn down as he was.

Their son really was a good kid, well good man now. Carol thought he'd find his maturity when he started working, but thanks to coronavirus he had spent less than a month in an office. Good, she thought. While so many people were losing family members, at least her son got an extra year of childhood. Her daughter, who hadn't been a child in years, was back at college and her husband was back in the office three to four, sometimes five, days a week. So coronavirus also meant more time together with her son than ever, even more than when she was on maternity leave with him. His work was full-time remote, while Carol went to the office for two hours every other Tuesday for payroll and a few more hours every Friday for receivables.

There was not a better person to spend quarantine with. Perhaps when her husband finally retired, some of the man she married would come back, but for now, her son was the only person she loved so much and could spend so much time with. He was handsome and a bit of a flirt, but wholly appropriate and respectful. His masculinity was never toxic and always fun. Carol knew because they had lightly flirted since he was in high school. The flirting was never sexual - so was it really flirting? - but just fun, loving. In fact, her joke about stimmy and stiffy was the most sexual thing one had ever said to the other.

A few days later, Carol heard a delivery and went to bring in the package. She tried to lift the box, but it wouldn't budge. She saw her son's name on the sticker. "Son," she called into the house, "Why did you order lead bricks? Could you come get this?"

He was already coming toward the door, excited for his package. "That's my new dumbell set," he beamed.

"Why would you waste money on something expensive like weights? Aren't you saving for an apartment?"

"It's stimmy money, mom, I'm supposed to spend it," he reminded her as he lifted the box.

Carol grabbed the flexed muscle on her son's arm. "Doesn't seem to me like you need weights, though," she said, giving him a squeeze.

"Well I haven't played sports in a year and these guns won't stay so impressive if I stay inside much longer."

"Oh sure," Carol teased. "Seems more like you're looking for a girl to spend that stimmy on."

"Always, but you know 'rona dates are dumb."

"No, haven't had a ''rona date.' Married people don't waste their stimmies or go looking for stiffies."

"Yuck, you and the stiffies. And I am definitely not looking for one of those."

"Just looking to get one."

"Oh my God, Mom, I'm taking my weights and going back to work."

"Better be work and not finding more ways to waste that stimmy," she called as he walked off.

The exchange gave Carol an idea. If her son wasn't active enough, and her husband was so drained all the time, maybe they should go for a hike that weekend. She brought up the idea at dinner.

"I don't know, Carol," her husband said. "We're all tired after a long week, you really think we'll be able to enjoy being on our feet more?"

"Of course, fresh air, family time, get our blood flowing. We'll have fun and it'll be good for us."

"Whatever," her son cheerfully responded. "If you guys want me to come, I'll come."

Her husband still objected. "I really don't think we're going to be in the mood," he said.

"Come on, we used to love family hikes."

"I don't remember that," her son said.

"It was a long time ago," her husband answered, as much to inform their son as to object to his wife.

"It was, but life got busy, but finally it's not so busy now," Carol said in a last attempt.

Her husband again objected so Carol let the issue rest for a few hours. But she couldn't help but bring up the idea again later, thinking that some time in nature would be good for each of them individually and the family as a whole. But instead, the discussion lead to a fight - you know how tired I am, what was fun 15 years ago isn't fun now, it's not really family time with our daughter at school, how can something tiring make me less tired. Carol had avoided fights for the last few years in an effort to keep her husband's life bearable, but this time she felt she was fighting for him. But there was no end to be won; they went to bed angry without any resolution.

Carol gave up on her husband joining for a hike, but that Friday before leaving for her office, she poked her head into her son's room. "Your father can't go hiking this weekend," she said, "but would you still come with me tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. Not much else to do."

"Well that's a way to make a mom feel special. But I'll take it, at least someone will go with me."

"Sorry, Mom. It'll be fun, I'm sure."

"Better," she teased, and left for the office.

The weather on Saturday was surprisingly pleasant, one of the first days of spring that almost seemed like a day of summer. Carol chose a secluded trail, but still worried that stir crazy hikers would overrun her afternoon. She hadn't been to that trail since the kids were in elementary school, and the world had gotten a lot more crowded since then. Fortunately, that trail had not gotten more popular. The trail was about two miles and led to a man-made lake, but that same lake could be accessed from a 5-minute walk from a parking lot, hence the trail's lack of patrons.

The hike out was mostly quiet. The trail was more narrow than Carol remembered, and both had worn shorts, so at times they had to walk single file to avoid possible poison oak. When Carol had first put on her shorts that morning, she noted that she hadn't shown so much leg in public in years. Now with her blue shorts and white tank top, she worried that one encounter with the wrong plant could cover her body in a rash. At least her son was mostly covered, with sleeves to his elbows and shorts past his knees.

"Whoa, there's a lake here?" Carol's son exclaimed as they neared the end of the trail.

"Yeah, it's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, hoping to see a softer side of her son. She surveyed the lake and noticed that the beach's closure had mostly deterred visitors, even on the year's first day of great weather. There were scattered individuals and couples, and only one group, a group of young bikini-clad women.

"We should have brought swimsuits," came the response. Carol looked up and saw her son attempting to ogle the group of girls, even though they were too far to really make anything out.

As they kept walking, Carol noticed her son continuing to try to get glimpses of the girls. At one point he said, "Man, why didn't you tell me? We could have had a hike and a beach day!"

"Do you really care about a beach day," she asked, "or are you just wishing you could go hit on those girls?"

"I mean, I'm not saying I wouldn't, but swimming could have been fun too."

"Yeah, don't think I don't know young men. You'd be all over them. But I know women too, those girls would eat you alive."

"Don't be silly, Mom, I know women."

What naivete, Carol thought. "Ha, no you don't. Those girls would have squeezed the stimmy out of you then left you to take care of your stiffy."

"Mom, what is with you and the stiffies? It's weird."

"Just 'cause I'm your mom doesn't mean I can't enjoy a crass joke."

"Yeah but around me?"

"Oh don't be butthurt because I finally nailed one about your generation's stupid slang."

"I'm not butthurt, it's just weird to hear my mom talk about taking care of my stiffy!"

Carol shrugged. The jokes were fun for her, and at his age they were harmless. He was twenty-three with a job, not some kid figuring things out. And he showed that he could handle them when they turned around to start the return leg of the hike. "Mom," he said, "The stiffy jokes are a little weird, but I don't want to spoil our hike. I've really had a good time out here."

"I have too," she responded. "I know the jokes are a little weird, but I find them funny. And really, making that stupid sexual joke kind of makes me feel like a woman again."

"Again? I think you were always a woman."

Carol chuckled. "Yes, but I don't always feel like one. Your father and sister are so drear about everything, my office is a ghost town... teasing you and making it a little adult is the only good interaction I get."

"I'm sorry you and Dad fought about this hike."

"That's okay, I didn't know you could hear. That was just me thinking I know what's best for him, which I do."

Her son laughed but said, "Well I don't like that you had a fight, it's hard hearing my parents fight and my mom upset."

Carol slipped her arm around her son's waist and told him, "It's much worse that you don't hear us fight. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but something's sucked the life out of your father, and I don't think it's me but I just let him lie so that I don't make it worse." There was no response for a moment so Carol continued. "I just really thought some family exercise could reinvigorate all of us a bit, I didn't want to upset anyone."

Carol felt herself sniffle as her eyes welled up. She released her son and stood up straight. "Sorry, I shouldn't put this on my children," she said. "Forget I said anything."

"No, Mom, I want to be there for you if you need something. I'm not some kid figuring things out, I can help you a bit now."

Carol's heart warmed and she thanked him with a side hug. As she pulled up from his shoulder, she looked down and saw a tent forming in her son's shorts. "Oh my God," she said. "What is with men and crying women?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You guys think any crying woman is coming on to you. I see that stiffy. Even if it's their mom."

He looked down at his impossible-to-deny wood. "No, Mom, I don't think that. I don't know why that happened. Probably the girls at the beach, and, well, actually a few times girls have cried on my shoulder then come on to me. Maybe it's Pavlovian."

"Okay, it's fine, men are men. I've forgotten."

Of course, Carol could not forget. She wasn't too concerned about her son's erection, she knew it wasn't the rational part of a man's brain that made him think crying women were a prelude to sex. And apparently that had worked a few times for him. What was really etched into Carol's mind was that, in addition to her son being her favorite person, which she had admitted to herself long ago, their bond was deeper than a mere biological connection. Even if just for a moment, a moment that Carol herself ended, her son showed that he wanted to be more for her than the silly kid, using dumb slang and ogling bikinis. They were building the relationship every person yearns for in their life, and that relationship happened to be with her son.

Yet something was still missing. In the days that followed, everything remained normal in the house. Carol felt the increased closeness with her son, but nothing seemed to have changed between them. In fact, she began to feel empty, almost the way she figured her husband felt all the time. Now she knew there could be more in her life, but everything was the same as always. Every communication she had with her son she wished would never end, and she fantasized about all the things she could go to tell him and the conversations they could have. But for days she couldn't bring herself to do anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps she couldn't bring herself to reconcile that her newfound feelings for her son began with an erection joke and ended with his actual erection. Thoughts of seeing her son's manhood, touching his body, and then pleasuring him as a lover sometimes flashed through her mind. She always pushed those away and told herself that she wanted her son only as her son and best friend.

Finally, one morning Carol gathered the courage to change things up. On another sunny spring morning, during the workday, she knocked on her son's door while he was working. "What would you think of going back to the lake today?" she asked.

"I mean, going to the lake was cool, but I can't go for a four mile hike in the middle of work."

"We don't have to hike, we can go around the other side and there's a parking lot right there. I'll get us sandwiches and it'll just be a long lunch."

She nervously watched as her son thought for a second, a second that felt like hours. "Alright," he said. "That'll be fun."

"Tell me your sandwich, I'll pick them up so you don't have to miss too much time."

Carol picked up their lunch then they drove together to the lake. In the middle of the day during the middle of a workweek during the middle of coronavirus, they were the only people there. They ate in the grassy section next to the beach, close to the water and on line with the old, dirty buoy that marked the end of the swimming zone. Birdsongs were the only sounds to join them, the swaying of the trees was the only motion they saw. Carol told her son how much they had once enjoyed the outdoors on the weekends. He vaguely remembered, but didn't remember this lake. By the time his younger sister was in kindergarten, she explained, things were beginning to crumble. Her husband was miserable in his career, but felt he had no way to find a better one and still provide for the family. Family time became less enjoyable, and finally not worthwhile at all as her husband was no longer a complete person, Carol confided in her son. She had forgotten the lake and their past life until the weights showed up at their door and they had talked about exercise.

"I see why you guys liked this lake so much," her son responded. "It's kind of sad we stopped going and I don't remember."

"Well we're here now, we can begin making those memories again. Even if it has to be the two of us."

Carol and her son sat in silence for a few minutes. She hoped his silence wasn't a rejection, knowing that even if he agreed, the life of a young man could change so quickly that they might never come back. But finally the love for her son overcame her and she said, "I'm really happy I could tell you all that stuff. I don't want you to think I don't love your father, but things aren't right for him and us. I believe they will be, but I don't know when."

"I liked hearing it. I can see it anyway, I think that's why we're the closest ones."

"Yeah, your sister takes after him so much that she can't be close to anyone."

He was silent for a moment before speaking again. "We are making those memories again, and we have to continue. Maybe to make us a happier family again, but if not, just so that we can come back and swim in this beautiful lake."

"Well, nothing's stopping us from doing that now," Carol grinned.

"Um, swimsuits? Towels?"

"Forget that, there's no one around."

"Mom, what are you saying?" her son asked, even though she knew he knew the answer.

Carol stood up. "Just as long as you don't get another stiffy for your mom. I'll go first and I won't look back till you splash in."

She slipped off her flip-flops, faced away from her son, and peeled her leggings and panties together. She ran toward the water, throwing away her shirt then ripping off her bra as she splashed into the water. She swam out a little to warm up and give her son space, then shouted, "Come on! No one should skinny dip alone."

Moments later she heard the splash behind her and turned around to face her son. "Mom, this is so weird," he said.

"What, you went to a college so close to the beach and never did this once?"

"Twice, but never in the middle of the day and never with a family member."

"Who cares if it's weird if we're having fun. I am, are you?"

He smiled. "Yeah, Mom, I am," he said, almost as if the answer was a confessional.

"Then I'll race you to the buoy!" she said and took off in a forward crawl.

Carol had a head start and a history of being a good swimmer, but years of staying inside compared with her son's years of playing every sport imaginable meant he beat her by about a foot. "Ugh, I thought I had you," she squealed as her son held the buoy and she tread water. "I can't believe you're touching that gross buoy."

"Took a lot of work to catch up, cheater," her son teased.

"Well I don't want to keep treading, here..." she moved over to put a hand on his shoulder. But as her legs moved near his, she felt an unmistakable appendage slow her movement then give way. "Son, what is this?" she said softly.

He matched her tone but protested, "Mom, I swear, I didn't even know that happened."

With the hand that wasn't resting on his shoulder, Carol reached down and held her son's cock for the first time. "These things don't just happen during physical activity," she said as she lightly ran her fingers along his glans. "Tell me, is this stiffy for me?"

"Yes, Mom," he confessed. "I can't help it. Sometimes," he looked into her eyes, "I feel like I'm not a complete person either, and I just act silly and confident to try to make myself complete. But here today, talking with you, swimming with you, I feel whole. I've never felt like this. And I think I'm hard because, I think, I'm just so happy being with you."

Carol reached further down her son's cock and firmly ran her hand up along the member. "Eddie, this is much more than a little stiffy," she cooed as she began stroking. "I think you have a massive hardon for your mom."

She watched her son's eyes close as he groaned, "Mom, that feels so good."

"That's right baby," she said. "Let's feel good."

"I don't know if we should," he whispered, his breath running short.

Carol stopped but let her fingers rest on Eddie's cock. "I'm going to dry off on the shore," she said, "and while I'm swimming back, you can think about that."

She did an easy breaststroke back, then lay on the grass, never looking back at her son. She closed her eyes and put her knees in the air to allow her son to kneel down and slide inside of her. She felt nervous that her son would reject her, that she would be a foolish slutty old woman lying naked at a deserted lake. But deep down, she knew that the mother-son bond was now too strong to be broken. She could almost feel herself pulling her son in from the water for the most intense sexual experience either of them had ever had.