Chapter 2
Mom Like I've Never Seen Her
The next morning I made sure to stay in bed until I could hear them leave the house. I wasn't about to go through the awkwardness of being officially introduced to this guy for the first time while I was eating a bowl of cereal and he was walking around in a bathrobe as if to say "Hi, I'm J.R. and I fucked your mom last night. Nice to meet you!" I watched out my window as they both hopped in the car so she could drive him hove. Walking into my mom's bedroom, I saw a spot on the wall behind the bed's headboard where the paint had chipped off and the drywall was beaten in almost to the point of breaking through it entirely.
The next few weeks were more or less back to normal. Mom continued to go out on dates with J.R., only she wouldn't bring him to our house afterwards. Instead she would prepare a casserole or something during the day and leave it in the fridge so I could help myself to it for dinner, saying she wouldn't be back until the next day. Her spending the night somewhere else never used to mean anything to me. She did it occasionally when she was dating when I was young and didn't know what sex meant, and even after I hit puberty, it just meant I had the house to myself and could do whatever I wanted, maybe even invite my friends over. But after that night, it took on a new meaning for me. She might know deep down that I know what goes on when she spends the night at her date's house, but little does she know that it's now at the forefront of my mind when she's gone. And I love it.
Finally my mom was ready for me to meet J.R. She invited him over to our house for dinner, the same way I met her boyfriends in the past. Up close he was quite suave, confident, and had a firm handshake. His hands were pretty big compared mine, and he had some thick, hairy arms. Over the course of dinner, I learned that he works in real estate like my mom, but in commercial real estate instead of residential. I know enough about the business to understand that he must make quite a bit of money.
After dinner we all sat in the living room and watched a movie. By the time it was done, the hour was late and I excused myself to bed. I wasn't actually tired, but that was the idea. I faked a lot of yawns and even shuffled upstairs like I was ready to pass out. Mom said that she and J.R. were going to stay up a little longer to have a glass of wine. I closed the door to my bedroom and hit the lights, making sure the toggling sound was loud enough for them to hear it. I sat by my door, flipping through a magazine with a reading light to stay occupied, waiting to hear them go to bed. I had been reading for a good hour plus change when I started hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, where my room was. I scrambled into bed as quietly as possible, threw the covers over myself, closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I know exactly what I look and sound like when I sleep. I left my mouth open just a little bit and faked a sort of half-snore-half-heavy-breathing that is typical for me when I'm sleeping like a log.
Sure enough, my door opened slowly. There was about a ten-second pause.
"He's out cold." I heard Mom whisper.
"Very good." J.R. said. The door closed gently.
Whatever they were about to do, I had a good feeling that they weren't going to be concerned about waking me up with any noise, nor were they expecting me to wake up on my own during the night. I've always been a very deep sleeper, and Mom knows that. I don't even wake up to pee. When I was younger, I even slept through the smoke detector blaring after a shelf caught on fire because my mom left a candle burning on it overnight. Something told me that my mom has communicated to J.R. about my inability to wake up. I figured it was why they were so loud on that first night.
I let a few minutes pass for good measure then went back to sitting next to my door, listening harder this time. I heard the sit back down on our squeaky leather couch in the living room, and I heard the TV come on again, this time just playing late cheesy late night infomercials. There was no way they went back to living room just to learn about a blender. Sure enough, I could hear "mmmm" and "ohhhh" over the sound of the infomercial, only this time it was definitely coming from J.R. Perhaps he wanted some background noise just for good measure.
I snuck out of my room. The whole house was dark. I practically low-crawled down the stairs in complete silence. I had the stealth of some special forces commando but unlike a special forces commando, I could barely control my excitement. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. J.R.'s voice was getting clearer as I was closing in. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the only light in the house was the TV, and I could see its ambient, flickering glow on the walls just outside the living room. By now I was at the last corner, the only corner between my eyes and the two lovebirds, just a few feet away.
I began sticking my head around the corner as slowly as I could. I took it one centimeter at a time. This is it, I thought to myself.
Around the corner was the leather couch, facing towards the TV, but away from me. J.R. was slouching back on the couch. In his lap was my mom's head, bobbing up and down on J.R.'s cock. I worried that if she looked up she would be able to see me, but it soon became clear that her attention was completely focused on sucking this man's cock like her life depended on it. By the slurping noises, it sounded like quite a messy blowjob she was giving. There was a brief pause in J.R.'s moans of enjoyment, when he turned his head to stare at something in the living room, I couldn't tell what it was, as there wasn't anything particularly interesting where he was looking. He then turned his head back to my mom, who was still going to town on his cock.
