Chapter 13 - Bret
Even though all the guys had agreed with Jeremy that their mothers were abnormally devoted to them, there was one who had a secret. Bret knew his mother was the town slut; everyone had told him as much for as long as he could remember. Yet, that night as Jeremy 'enlightened' The Clan, Bret could have died. He saw how the other guys responded to Jeremy's evidence, and it was obvious to him that he was the odd man out. He saw how the other guys agreed with Jeremy and knew their mothers had never had dates, boyfriends or sex at all. Bret also knew he couldn't say that of his mother. Even at uni the other guys teased him about his mother, saying their fathers or brothers had all fucked Tracy -- Bret's mother.
Bret stood with the other guys waiting for his mother to pick him up, giving the thumbs up signal to each other, but knowing deep down his mother wasn't like the others. Oh yeah, he was an only child, and Tracy loved to hug him and tussle his hair, rub his shoulders and all the other things Jeremy had told them to look out for. But only his mother had a huge reputation as the town slut. He did take comfort in the fact that none of the other guys lived anywhere near he and his mother, so they didn't know her reputation.
Bret had never approached his mother on the subject of her sexual behaviour, frightened of what she might tell him. However, he had decided that tomorrow morning he would confront her about it. He watched as Tracy pulled into the car park, and like the other mothers greeted her son with her normal affection.
Bret was just pissed that she spread her affection around to virtually every man in town. He asked himself as he climbed into their car why she couldn't confine herself to say him and him alone? One of the questions he would ask her tomorrow.
The ride home was in silence, as Bret refused to be drawn into conversation with his mother, and after trying to engage him for nearly 30 minutes Tracy gave up. He must be in one of his moods, she told herself. Once home, Bret went straight to bed and waited for the morning.
His 7.00 alarm went off as usual. He lay there going over in his mind once more what he would say, his mother's possible responses, how he would answer her. Yet, he had an idea of where he wanted the whole thing to go. He would demand she stop her slut ways, because he would care for her and she would never have to go out and seek sexual satisfaction outside their home.
He pondered these things knowing his mother was always a late riser, usually because she had been out the night before, although not this time. When they arrived home last night, Tracy had gone to bed at the same time as her son.
Bret steeled himself, hopped out of bed, dressed in his favourite track pants and T-shirt, and then checked himself in the mirror. Satisfied that this was the best and right thing to do as he looked at his reflection, he marched out of his room, down the hall to the next bedroom and entered without knocking. Sure enough, Tracy was sound asleep.
As Bret looked at his sleeping mother, his resolve began to waver. No, it was for the best, he told himself once more. He kicked her bed. Nothing. He kicked harder three times, and Tracy began to stir herself. He kicked the bed again, and this time his mother responded.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Tracy asked trying to understand what was going on. Was there some kind of problem?
"Get up you lazy bitch," Bret instructed her in a tone his mother had never heard from her son before, and she was instantly angry.
"How dare you speak like that to me, you ungrateful young man," Tracy spat back at her son angrily.
"Shut the fuck up," Bret said loudly as his emotions began to take over and he sat on the bed and held his mother down.
"Now you're going to listen to me, and if you interrupt I'll... smack your bottom as you did to me as a child. Now shut up and listen."
Tracy wanted to hear this, because she wanted to know why her son was silent last night and why he was doing what he was doing now. Both were out of character for her Bret, he was such a nice young man, everyone thought so. So Tracy stopped struggling and lay placidly under her son. She also acknowledged how nice it felt to feel his hands restraining her and his body pushing against hers.
"Now, I know what you've been up to all these years and there's no point trying to deny it," he began very seriously, and Tracy could see the emotion in her son's face and hear it in his voice.
"And I'm sick of it, and I'm not going to put up with this any more. Do you hear me?" he asked his stunned mother.
"What are you talking about," a bewildered Tracy asked.
"I told you to shut up and listen," Bret reminded his mother.
"Then don't ask me questions," Tracy shot back, but still pliant to her son's hands and body.
Bret knew she was right, and the wind was knocked out his sails -- but only temporarily.
"I'm not going to put up with you spreading yourself all over town like some cheap slut."
Tracy looked shaken, 'yes', he thought, 'I know what you've been up to'.
"I love you mum and it breaks my heart when I hear what the men of this town say about you."
There were tears in her son's eyes and Tracy was about to respond.
"No just listen I said." So she remained silent and waited to hear the rest.
