Megan and Mitchell

Author's note: This is a non-linear story. It jumps to and from the past and present. I separated the time jumps with a series of asterisks. I hope that helps some.

Editing thanks go to Todger65.

*****

Chapter 1

Jordan's toes curled once again, her legs propped on Mitchell's shoulder, his tongue swirling around inside her pussy. She gripped the sheets of his bed on the sunny Sunday morning having been awakened by Mitchell's probing tongue. Mitchell guided a hand up her stomach, coming to a rest on one of her large breasts, squeezing it gently while his mouth worked below. His phone on his bedside table vibrated a third time in the last five minutes.

"Mitch, stop, please?" the 27 year old blonde asked her friend.

Mitchell sighed, sitting up, glancing to the phone, "I should've turned it off. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. But maybe check it to be sure it's not an emergency?" Jordan asked.

Mitchell reached for his phone, his eyes widening, seeing it was his stepdad calling. Perhaps it was an emergency. He answered the phone, getting off the bed, leaving the room, glancing back at a nude Jordan.

Jordan stretched in the sunlight, waiting for Mitchell to return, casually playing with her long blonde locks. Several minutes passed before he returned to his bedroom. It looked as though he had just seen a ghost, his face flushed of color, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Jordan asked, concerned about her friend with benefits, Mitchell.

Mitchell slowly sat on the edge of his bed, eyes to the floor.

"Mitch?" Jordan asked, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"That was my stepdad. He and my mother are divorcing. She's coming out here to live with me," Mitchell solemnly informed Jordan.

"Oh," she said, slightly sighing of relief that no one had died or was hospitalized. "I'm sorry?"

Mitchell sat, shaking his head, unable to speak.

"Is that bad?" Jordan asked, rubbing his shoulders.

"Yeah."

"I see. Um, well, is there anything I can do?"

Mitchell shook his head once more, "I gotta start cleaning. She'll be here next week. I'm not in the mood to hear her whine and complain about this place being messy."

Mitchell stood, gathering his clothes, "Plus I'm not horny anymore. Sorry," He sighed.

"Hey, It's ok Mitch," Jordan smiled, standing to hug him. "I'd feel pretty crappy too after hearing news like that."

"He didn't even say why they are divorcing. It's like he wanted her out of his hair as soon as possible. I don't blame him," Mitchell rested his head on Jordan's shoulder. "He told me she requested to stay with me. I tried to ask why she couldn't go stay with my Aunt. But he was in a hurry to get off the phone."

"Well hopefully she won't be too annoying," She attempted to comfort him.

"Yeah," he shrugged, the somber tone of his voice showed he didn't believe that for a second.

"I gotta go soon anyway. I want to get some sleep before my flight. We didn't sleep much last night, did we?" Jordan winked.

"Heh, nah," Mitchell watched his flight attendant friend gather her things. She kissed him good bye, telling him to relax, and that they'd see each other again soon.

"Be careful. Some of those passengers may want to join the mile high club with you," Mitchell joked.

"Some might already have," Jordan smiled and waved at him, getting into her car.

Mitchell was left alone in his condo. The 23 year old had a mess to clean. He wanted the place spotless. He didn't want to give his mother any ammunition to nag him and run her mouth about his cleanliness. He thought about how much of a nightmare it'd be, to once again live with the "Queen Bitch" as he called her.

*********

"I said take the trash out!" Megan yelled at a 16 year old Mitchell.

"I am!" he replied.

"No, I've had to tell you three times to do it! That's your problem, you don't understand that when I say do something, do it! Don't wait and do it on your own time," She peered into Mitchell's dark blue eyes with her own matching orbs, sticking her finger in his face.

"I'm doing it right now mom, ok?" Mitchell said.

His mother had been on his case all day, all week, all month it seemed. She was unrelenting. She was always fussing, scolding, or nagging him about something. He rolled his eyes and headed back into their Miami home after putting the trash in the trash bin behind the garage.

"Your room is disgusting. Clean it," Megan ordered, upon hearing him return.

"It's not that bad."

"Do it Mitchell! What is your problem? Huh? I said clean your room so go do it. I'm getting so sick of your attitude and how you think you can just do whatever you want. I will check your room in one hour. It better be spotless." his mother scowled at him.

Mitchell stood there, mouth open, in disbelief. He recalled the many conversations he's had with his stepdad about his mother. Following his advice, he shut his mouth, nodded his head, and went to clean his room.

After finally meeting her seal of approval after three scrutinizing checks, Megan finally judged his room to be clean enough.

"Now keep it this way," she growled, closing the door behind her. Mitchell wanted to scream at her.

Later that evening he was sitting on the couch watching a football game and his mother joined him. She smiled softly, sat next to him, moved his arm, placing it around her short little frame, and snuggled up to him.

Mitchell rolled his eyes at her. She had been increasingly difficult to deal with. After each annoying nagging session there was calmness, affection, a total opposite behavior from his mother. She would yell and boss him around, then later hold his hand, play with his dark brown hair, or snuggle on the couch. He had no idea why she was like that.

Chapter 2

After several phone calls to his stepdad, begging for more information only to be dismissed; an OCD-like cleaning of his condo, Mitchell stood teeth clinched, watching his mother's cab arrive outside the condominium complex.

"Looks like the Queen Bitch is still in good shape," he muttered under his breath, watching his 40 year old mother, Megan, step out of the cab. She was wearing large sunglasses, a short, white, spaghetti strap sundress displaying ample cleavage. Mitchell glanced at her equally ample breasts and sighed once more.

Making his way to her cab, she smiled politely at him; he nodded, leaning down for a quick one arm hug. Mitchell patted her upper back a couple times, ending the hug, watching her pay the cab fare. Megan smiled up at her tall son once more. Mitchell looked away to the back of the cab, not meeting her gaze.

"Yeah, my bags," Megan said. Mitchell grabbed them from the open trunk without being asked. The two walked through the courtyard into his condo without speaking.

Mitchell placed her luggage in his guest room then entering the living room, finding his mother looking around. Hair dark hair was pushed back by her sunglasses. "What's that smell?" she asked.

"Here we go," Mitchell thought. "The ocean," he replied.

"I know that, Mitchell. I lived in Miami long enough to recognize it. I'm smelling something else," She sniffed the air.

"I don't know," Mitchell moving to the kitchen, opening the fridge seeing a slightly old container of leftovers.

"Ah, that's it. You should probably throw that out," Megan said, appearing behind her son, placing her hand on his shoulder, slightly startling him, peering into the refrigerator from behind him.

"Yeah," he said. He didn't want to throw the food out; Mitchell would just nuke it extra long if there wasn't mold growing on it. He did as he was told, not looking or speaking to his mother while cleaning the container in the sink.

Mitchell glanced at her, just as she turned around from her inspection, their eyes meeting quickly. He thought he saw a smile on her face, but looked away as quickly as he could when their eyes met.

"Alright, well let me show you around," Mitchell said, putting the dishtowel back on the rack.

The condo was small so it only took a moment. He showed her the kitchen, living room, small bathroom, and his room. Megan entered it, sitting on the bed, running her hand over the cover.

"It's nice," she smiled at her son.

"Thanks. Your room is across the hall here," Mitchell, not returning the smile, looked away, motioning her to follow.

"Oh my, this is really small," Megan complained, her arm wrapping around Mitchell's. He unhooked his arm from hers.

"Yeah, well, it's this or the couch," he replied, walking away.

"Ugh, I guess this then. There's hardly enough room for my things," Megan droned on, Mitchell taking the high road and ignoring her whining.

Mitchell pretended to work in the kitchen, his mother sitting on the couch, running her hands over her knees, her feet propped up on the coffee table, "So what are we doing tonight?"

"Excuse me?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes. Tonight. What are we doing? It's Saturday," Megan said.

"Yeah. Well I have some work I need to catch up on," Mitchell answered. It was a half truth. Yes there was work he could do for the software company he worked for, but it wasn't catch-up work. He wanted an excuse to avoid her, to stay in his room on his laptop.

"Well that's no fun on a Saturday night," Megan said.

Mitchell ignored her. Finishing up his task in the kitchen, he grabbed the TV remote from coffee table in front of the couch, placing it on the empty cushion next to his mother.

"Feel free to use this," He said, heading to his room.

He didn't want to talk to her; he didn't want to see her. Six months ago when he was at home for Thanksgiving was the last time he saw her. He sat quietly in his room, answering emails on his laptop, doing small amounts of work, the TV from the living room down the hall in the background.

An hour later, Mitchell heard his mother clear her throat at his doorway, "It's a little chilly in here," she said.

"It's like 70 degrees," Mitchell answered, not looking away from his computer.

"Can we turn the AC down a bit?"

Mitchell sighed, shrugging his shoulders, "Sure." He walked to the end of the hall and adjusted the thermostat, quickly making his way back to his bedroom, finding his mother sitting on his bed once more. He ignored her and went back to work.

"So what are you doing that's so important it can't wait until Monday?" Megan asked.

Mitchell paused before answering, "Just catching up on emails. I'm the new guy, I just want to make a good impression."

"Well I'm sure you've made a great impression already, without having to work after hours," Megan said, hoping Mitchell would take the hint and close his computer.

"Have you visited your Aunt Lisa since you've been out here?"

"No," he quickly replied, not caring one bit about visiting his mother's sister - a woman he has never been fond of.

"Not once since you've been out here?" She asked, her voice showing annoyance.

"No."

"You mean to tell me you haven't once visited your aunt since you've been out here for college? Don't you think that's a little rude, Mitchell?"

He shrugged, his back still turned to his mother.

"Well I'm going to be visiting her. Gosh, that's embarrassing. To think you've been out here since you were 18 and haven't even stopped by to say hello to her," Megan sighed. Mitchell bit his tongue.

"She doesn't live that far away. How far is the Palisades from here?"

"About 30 minutes," Mitchell replied, immediately cringing with regret for answering.

"30 minutes? Are you serious? You live that close to her and you haven't even visited? Ugh, Mitchell," Megan scolded.

"I've been kinda busy with work," Mitchell told another half truth.

"Or have you been busy with a girl?" Megan asked raising an eyebrow, her son still not turning around from his laptop on his desk to look at her.

"No," he answered. There was no way he was going to explain to his mother his relationship with Jordan. They weren't a couple, but were friends who occasionally had sex, that was it. He didn't want to hear any lectures from his mother about that.

There was a long pause before Megan spoke again. "Alright, well I'll ask again, what are we doing tonight?"

Mitchell stood, shutting down his computer, grabbing his keys. "Maybe we can eat leftovers after I show you around the complex some."

"Leftovers?" Megan said. "Let's hope they are fresher than the ones you threw out."

"Shoot me now," Mitchell thought, making his way out of his room, his mother close behind him.

After he gave her a brief tour of the condominiums, including a view of the Pacific Ocean and the private beach the residents rarely visited, the fitness center, and the pool area with hot tub they headed back inside.

"It's very nice," his mother said. "But we aren't eating leftovers. We're going to dinner."

Mitchell took a deep breath, sighing heavily, nodding his head "yes." He didn't want to fight about going out to dinner.

After listing several cheap restaurants only to get rebuked for each choice, Mitchell relented, telling his mother of a nice seafood restaurant that was a little pricier than he'd like to take her to. He was happy with one of the sandwich shops or chain restaurants he suggested.

"Good. Now go change," She told him.

"No, this is fine."

"You aren't wearing a t-shirt and shorts to a nice restaurant. Go change into something nice," Megan ordered.

"Why don't you go change," He replied.

"Because I like this dress and I want to look nice. Now go change," She ordered him once more.

Minutes later, Mitchell emerged from his room wearing dress pants and a tucked in shirt, "Is this fine?"

Megan smiled, moving toward him, looking into his eyes, adjusting his collar, "It's perfect."

Chapter 3

"Hurry up Mitchell!" Megan yelled to her teenage son seven years ago. It was a mother/son social event for the Eagle Scout troop Mitchell was in. He vehemently opposed going to this event, especially with his mother, but Megan insisted, ordering him to go and bring her or he'd be grounded.

"Do we have to go to this thing?" Mitchell pleaded one last time walking down the stairs.

"Yes. Stop asking," Megan said.

She inspected his outfit. "No, no, no! That is not the tie I picked out. Go back and get the blue one. Geez, Mitchell, pay attention!" she scolded him.

Mitchell returned a few minutes later. "Hurry! Does it take that long to put on a tie?" his mother asked.

"You didn't even do it right!" She exasperatedly told him, fixing his tie in the process.

"Ugh, there, fixed. Now hurry it up!" Megan practically pushed him out of the house.

Mitchell made a wrong turn on the way to the event, she jumped on his case. She didn't like how slow or how fast he was driving, she complained about that. He didn't hold the door open for her, she fussed again. He had trouble slow dancing, showing no rhythm, almost stepping on his mother's feet and was once again on the receiving end of her nagging. Mitchell was mortified in front of the other teens at his table when his mother reprimanded him about which fork to use. On the way home he was clinching his teeth with anger.

Dozing off on the couch later that night, the TV on in the background, Mitchell felt a soft, warm body slide next to him. His mother smiled at him, caressing his face, planting a slowly kiss on his cheek. She moved his arm, resting her head on his lap. Mitchell shook his head, observing a smile come across her face, her eyes closing. Megan, reaching behind her, grabbed his arm, pulling is across her body, holding his hand and dozed off.

*********

In the present day, at the restaurant Megan made small talk to her son, asking about his job, how he likes living there, and if he had many friends. There was no mention of her divorce from Mitchell's stepdad. Mitchell didn't bring it up, almost afraid of hearing the truth.

He did ask her about her plans for a job. His mother was a massage therapist in Miami and she told him she was hoping to find something similar in Malibu. Mitchell subtly hinted that it would be good for her to get a job and back on her feet. "So you have your own place and be out of my hair," He thought to himself.

After the meal, Megan sipped on her coffee. She moved across the table to Mitchell's side. They watched a string quartet play in the corner. Megan smiled, moving Mitchell's arm, putting it around her, much to his chagrin. He didn't complain, going along with her affection.

They were silent on the way home, Megan sending text messages to her sister, Mitchell wanting to go to bed. After they arrived, he headed straight to his room to change into pajamas, closing the door, not saying goodnight to his mother. He listened to her start up the shower and drifted off to sleep. Day one was over.

Or so he thought. An hour later he was woken from his slumber when his mother told him to scoot over. "Huh? What?" he asked, groggily.

"I said move over. It's cold in here. Why do you keep it so cold?" She complained.

"Blankets are in the hall closet," Mitchell said, sliding over to make room for her.

His mother ignored his suggestion, practically pushing him across the mattress. She slid under the covers, her long white t-shirt covering her panties, and then moved Mitchell's arm and snuggled close to him. She guided his hand to her hip, brought her own to his chest, and eventually was sound asleep. Mitchell couldn't help but think how soft and warm her body was against his. He admitted maybe it wasn't so bad to snuggle with her before sleep found him once more.

The next morning Mitchell woke up to the smell of bacon. Seeing he was alone in his bed, he made his way to the kitchen, to find his mother cooking breakfast. He watched her reach to the cabinet above her, the long t-shirt coming up, exposing her pink panties. Mitchell looked away, making his way to the living room, sitting on the couch. A few minutes later a plate of bacon and eggs was sat in his lap. His mother sat next to him, handing him a fork.

"I was thinking we could go to the beach today," She said, taking a piece of his bacon.

"I don't know," Mitchell replied, not bothering to thank her for the meal.

"Please? It'll be fun."

Mitchell shrugged, continuing to eat his eggs.

"Well what else is there to do on a Sunday?" Megan asked.

Mitchell thought about how his sex session with Jordan was interrupted the previous Sunday with the phone call from his stepdad.

"Alright," he sighed.

After breakfast, he cleaned the kitchen yet again to deny his mother a reason to nag him. He changed into his swim trunks, grabbed a t-shirt, a towel, and waited outside for her.

Megan arrived a few minutes later wearing the large sunglasses, a fairly long, yellow beach dress - the top part barely covered her bikini top. Mitchell nodded to her and led the way. He glanced over to her when she grabbed his hand. Walking to the beach, she talked on and on about the nice weather, complaining about how cold it was in his condo again, and asked Mitchell how often he came to this beach, showing frustration with him when he said "hardly ever."

It took forever for Megan to find a nice spot for them to sit. Mitchell didn't complain but sat down in the sand once his mother found the perfect spot for their towels. He glanced at his mother when she removed the beach dress, revealing a dark gray, almost silvery bikini. He looked away when she bent down to apply sun screen to her thighs, her large breasts almost spilling out of the top.

They again, sat in silence, watching the waves crash on the empty beach. Mitchell's gaze found his mother once more, she was on all fours, doodling something in the sand. He watched her long, dark hair, being blown by the light breeze, her large breasts hanging down and jiggling as she doodled. Her movements stopped. Mitchell looked to her face; she was staring back at him, smiling. Mitchell quickly looked away.