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  • Taking the Edge Off Ch. 04

Taking the Edge Off Ch. 04

12

1

The local weather app must have been broken. It was nearly 6PM that Tuesday evening in mid-September and apparently it was ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Bullshit, thought Karen. Her car was like a furnace inside. She drove home with her jaw hung slack while the thick humidity clung to the roof of her mouth like steam in a sauna!

And the rest of the world hadn't even made it to Hump Day before the roads had become a seething concrete death trap for the inhuman mechanical herds, stampeding home without care or common sense. Driving in that heat played on her nerve, having to brave roads belonging to aggressive alpha males who'd been in the sun for too long.

She was so damned tired. It was hard to believe that the holidays had passed. She was in desperate need of a cool shower, some real coffee and a well-deserved lie down. It didn't come soon enough.

Karen got home at half six, well done and ready to stick a fork in herself. Restricted by her tight business skirt, she limped in small barefooted steps to the front door with her handbag over her shoulder and her shoes in hand.

As she opened up and crossed the threshold, the heat of the day seemed to dissipate some, only radiating then from her tired, aching body, and from the kitchen across the hall where the comforting if not excessive aroma of home cooking almost finished her off.

Shuffling like a zombie now as her feet relaxed against the cool laminate flooring, she tottered into the kitchen – her shoulders slumped – and met Michael with a look of exhaustion.

'Jesus Christ, mom,' he reacted sympathetically. She attempted a sarcastic smile which soon turned into a tired and miserable pout. 'Bad day?'

'Meh,' she said and blinked slowly, hoping that the feeling would soon pass. 'Hot-ass day, long-ass drive, stupid-ass drivers and stress, but that,' she said and breathed deeply through her nostrils, 'smells divine...'

Michael knew how to roast a bird, though today he might just as well have thrown it on the roof for a couple hours. She said nothing about being in no mood for hot food, or to eat at all. So long as he ate, that's all she cared about; and her coffee; and her shower; and her bed.

And as though on cue, he handed her a cup, just the way she liked it – sweet enough already and coloured like the people of the country it came from. Just the right temperature, as it had waited five or ten minutes for her arrival, she sipped at it and afforded herself a little jolt of clarity. That was when she noticed something about her son.

'How do you feel today, honey?'

'Okay I guess,' he said. It was written in his words and in the way he offered them. He wasn't being entirely truthful. 'I'm just sick of making a deal out of some things. I'm just getting on with it.'

Karen didn't know if she trusted him to get on with it, though, at least not alone. Ever since their relationship had changed, he'd used that as an excuse to cut ties with many of his friends, rather than to fight for them. That wasn't healthy, but she had trusted him then. Hopefully regretting that might force him to change his mind soon; because if not...

'We can talk about that,' she offered.

'Not right now,' he insisted. 'First get off your feet and relax and we'll eat in a bit.' And then he did smile. It was the smile of an older man, not one of a late teenager. She smiled back coyly, but furthermore gratefully, and returned to her coffee.

'I'm taking this upstairs. I need a shower and a lie down,' she said, letting her hair down and unwinding her slender long neck.

And the shower, barely warmer than tepid, was heavenly – so relieving to her exquisitely hot and tender flesh – that she stood beneath the raging torrent with her eyes closed for so long that she almost fell asleep on her feet.

She came crashing back to reality so abruptly, taken by surprise as from out of nowhere her son's arms slipped around her waist from behind and drew her back into his own nakedness. She let out a startled gasp, felt her knees jerk unsteadily, and would have fell were he not holding her so firmly.

'What do you think you're doing, young man of mine?' she urged.

'Helping you to relax?' he replied devilishly. It was but a half-certainty. After all since when did she question his motives, lately?

'Oh you're just going to let the kitchen burn down?'

'At least we won't catch fire under the shower...'

'Oh for God's sake,' she scolded. 'Michael, I'm too tired. I'm old. I can't keep up with you anymore.'

'Mom I just want you to feel good,' he assured, pressing his hips up against her butt, slippery, hot and so hard. Despite her vocal reluctance, Karen couldn't help being turned on.

'Do you know what would make me feel really good right now?' she asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes.

2

They were still soaking wet, the both of them, partly from their shower and then partly from the fresh perspiration caused by the heat between them. Michael revelled at the sight of his mother, thighs widely parted as she lay at the edge of his bed, her dark hair, wringed, damp and curling around her bare shoulders.

He lapped and licked relentlessly at her blooming pink pussy, killing her with the roughness of his cool tongue, and every time she came near to coming from within, he denied her and engaged her throbbing clit instead.

'I'm going to have to shower again, you... randy little sod,' she cooed, fighting not to clamp her thighs tight shut over his head and suffocate him.

'Oh mom I love it when you speak European,' Michael teased and then lovingly nuzzled his mouth and nose right in between her sticky labia where he resumed tongue fucking her until she begged for him to fuck her properly, but he was having none of it.

Two fingers eased their way into her, fingertips facing upward, and he began to curl them in a teasing "come hither" motion, once again sucking at her clit and enjoying the taste of her. In and out he slid as her hot pussy moulded itself around him at the knuckles and he was so tempted to replace them with his stiff member but relented. Soon her pelvis was bucking to his rhythm and her hips were swaying seductively.

'Ohhhh,' she sighed.

'I love it when you do that,' he admired.

'Do what?' she asked, now thrusting forth to meet his movements.

'The looks you give. The sounds you make!'

'You're making me make them,' Karen admitted. She took him by the wrist and took charge, controlling the pace at which he fucked her with his fingers. At just the right angle she made him touch her inside right where it counted and suddenly began to grind hard on him, losing herself in the oncoming storm that raged through her ears.

It must have been the work fatigue and the stress. Karen hadn't felt anything like it in a long time, a sensation that her body couldn't resist or control. That gradually building climax was so overpowering when it finally peaked that her eyes crossed and she forgot how to breathe.

Finally inhaling sharply, she squealed inward a high pitched whine and almost passed out. When she came to, Michael was wiping his bewildered face with a towel and saying, 'well... that's never happened to me before...'

Karen inhaled again, through her nose, and smiled through her own hazy bliss. 'Oh Michael, I have no idea what that was, but I think that kitchen really is on fire this time!'

She might not have been joking either.

3

Karen's hunger came back with a vengeance shortly after, and with a fierce growl. The chicken was a little more than well done. It was so well-cooked thanks to Michael's bright idea to seduce her in the shower, that she had to save it by shredding it and turning it into a chicken mayo, which they plied sandwiches with along with salad and bacon and ate in the back garden.

'One thing I always regretted about being a single mom,' she recalled, dressed fashionably sloppy in a large t-shirt and lightweight lounging shorts, 'days like these you need a swimming pool out back.'

'I'd love a swimming pool,' Michael enthused, half-wasted in the heat and lying back in his sun lounger. 'If I win the lottery and move to Florida I'll get the full works and you can come and live with me.'

'Dream on, sucker,' Karen laughed. 'Years of hard work in a good job. I didn't raise you on blind hope.'

'It was a joke,' he assured cynically. 'I really want to get into those comics though.'

'I love your art,' she encouraged. 'You're more than gifted and they'd be stupid as hell to turn you down. But I want you to get into a job while you're waiting for that to happen. You have to be realistic. Hit the comic book stores in town. Maybe you can get connections that way, too.'

'I'm still waiting to hear from them.'

'Don't wait. Be persistent. Free comics, Michael, easy work and likeminded people. Fight for it,' she said. 'Besides, I want you to get out there and enjoy your life while you're young. And another thing...'

'I am enjoying my life,' he assured with a secretive smile.

'Me too,' she said, flashing one back mutually. 'But I want to talk to you about something. I want to make some changes. Are we done here?'

Michael looked around him at the empty plates and drinks glasses. The sun had burned its last for the day and was setting behind the rooftops, though it was still very warm and humid.

'Sure.'

'Can we go inside and talk about this more comfortably?' That meant in private, but not necessarily in the nude. They had established that safety phrase a little while back, so that they would never be caught out saying things that they shouldn't.

4

'Michael,' she started, fidgeting with a lock of her long dark hair, now dry but wild and curly. 'I met someone at work and I really like him.'

In their living room they had a plush three-seater couch and then two reclining comforters. Karen was bunched up in the corner of the couch and facing Michael as he pulled back in his seat and took a load off.

She paused and tried to gauge his reaction, but none came. Still he wasn't unhappy. He would have let her know, or so she believed; such was their mutual honesty. But he did also have bad habits, many of which she as his mother knew well enough. One of them was that he had a tendency to bottle his true feelings for fear of conflict. And now he wasn't granting her the slightest bit of eye contact.

'He asked me out on a date this weekend and I told him I'd think about it, but I really like him.'

'Aw, mom, really,' he said lightly. 'Is he nice?'

'No, he's a serial killer cyborg velociraptor come from the future to exterminate my son, the future of the human race!'

'I don't know what to say,' he reiterated. 'I meant do you think he's something special?'

'I mean, it's possible,' she supposed. 'But I'm not thinking like that. I just like him and a date would be nice.'

'Well you don't need my permission,' Michael assured firmly. It was then that his eyes went to hers and they seemed harder. 'Mom you do what makes you happy.'

'But your blessing would be nice,' she said and laughed anxiously. 'Which is also why I'm serious about you working at being happy too...'

'Thinks would have to change,' Michael said sullenly, and reluctantly. Resolutely, his mother relented, but only because she wanted to.

'Not everything,' she said, almost a promise. Karen got up from the couch and approached his seat, perching herself on the edge before carefully curling up in his lap like an overgrown kitten. 'Not who we are and how much we mean to each other. Nobody will ever replace my boy...'

'But I'm not a boy anymore,' Michael dismissed typically, missing the context of her affection. It didn't matter at all.

'No, you're my man, too,' she proclaimed, 'and I'll never forget it.'

'Mom, really! Don't worry about what you can and can't do around me. I want you to,' Michael compromised. 'Go and have fun. You need people your own age too, right?'

'Give your mom a kiss,' Karen said and beamed a loving smile right at him. 'And while you can't hide what's sticking into my hip right now, I really think you need to get me out of my clothes and finish what you started earlier.'

5

Karen literally tore off his shorts as he had done hers and let his hardness spring free. With a thirsty rasp she sunk to her knees and bathed his length with her cool, smooth tongue, coating him with her saliva before taking his pulsating head between her pouting lips and losing herself to the excitement that caused her.

Michael groaned helplessly, told his mother how good that felt, and how he could let her do that all night if she wanted to. It was a thought for another day. Ploughing and sucking like her life depended on it, she wanted him hard and, if possible, as wet as she was, because what she needed right now was a good firm fucking.

'Something about this heat just makes me fucking horny all the time,' she growled, running her hand up and down his slick hard cock before sucking the pre- taste from the tip again and treating him to a tongue-swirling tease. '

'Something about seeing myself sliding slippery deep into my mom's hot wet pussy,' Michael said contrarily and was met with an appreciative groan, stifled by his girth.

'Oh fuck, Michael, put your money where your mouth is,' Karen raged and slid back onto the bed where he pulled her back towards the edge. The head of his hard cock in place, the closer he pulled her she could feel him enter her, then sink deeper, inch after inch, before she was fully impaled on him and their pelvises were kissing.

'Of course,' she panted, 'let's say you were to have a girlfriend and I was to have a boyfriend, hypothetically speaking. We could have our space if we wanted to, but let's face it; we're still going to end up having sex.'

He surprised her then with his strength, lifting her legs over his elbows, grabbing her butt with both hands and lifting her up to hang from his shoulders. Facing her son, Karen submitted herself to his prowess, kissing him sensually as he began to manoeuvre her to slide up and down on his solid length.

'Jesus fucking Christ Michael,' she gasped, 'how big are you right now? You're splitting me in half!'

'Big enough to share, apparently,' he quipped, cradling her in his arms as he felt her slide down to the base and back. Then he took her to the bed and well and truly filled her, easing all the way in to her moan of approval.

Karen laced her feet together at the small of his back and flashed him an adorable smile, tired and happy but tainted by her own insatiable thirst.

'Give me a baby,' she said, right out of the blue.

'You don't mean that,' Michael insisted. She couldn't lie, as much as she loved to play games.

'No but I love it when you come with me, so...'

'Life goals,' Michael said and met her in a slow tongue-swirling kiss and they continued to make love languidly and gently until Karen demanded to be loved a little harder and then in another position. In the end she took charge again and straddled him, facing away, so that he could grab her heart-shaped behind and watch her ride them both into oblivion.

And even after they had come together in true devastating fashion, he remained hard and she continued to massage his cock with her come filled pussy. Once she started there was no stopping. That work week was going to be crawling half-dead towards Friday.

6

Two and a half weeks later...

Karen was alone in the house when she heard a knock at the door. It was not a surprise anymore that even in this age of technology people were getting so dumb that they couldn't recognise a doorbell, let alone look for one.

Michael was out drinking with his friends. He'd gone out early, at about half five. Now it was getting near seven, nearly time for Karen's second date with Darren, who she was now out to impress. She was in the process of dolling herself up, suited up in a figure-hugging but conservative black dress that didn't show too little leg or too much up top.

Now rushing for the door, wondering if Darren was early, she couldn't have been more wrong, or unpleasantly surprised when she was left standing face to face with a girl she hadn't met before but whose face she was familiar with. She immediately stopped chapping her lips together, forgetting that there was lipstick there at all when met with the teenager's stony glare.

Eve fucking Johnson: The Princess Cumbucket of Legend!

Karen waited and waited. The girl said nothing, only looked her up and down as if to ask what she was dressed for and who Karen even thought she was. Karen knew well enough not to take shit from anybody, least of all manipulative lying little bitches. She crossed her arms and returned the sentiment, taking in an eyeful.

The girl was skinny, anaemic and sullen-looking. Her wiry blonde hair was messy, tied back with all the class of a thirteen year old schoolgirl. In the photos Michael took on his phone, he had obviously set out to do her justice when in actual fact her looks mirrored the part of her that Michael's false friends didn't see.

She didn't know and insect that would have been able to fit into those stick-leg jeans. The girl's bee-sting tits caused her jersey to stick out like pointed metal studs. Goddamn, Karen thought. Next to her I'm the fucking sex goddess of a thousand cultures.

'You must be new to this talking thing,' Karen guessed. 'I'll make it easy for you. What do you think you're doing here?'

'Who are you supposed to be?' Eve asked. She knew damn well. Karen told her so. Then she tried to gain entry by actually dismissing herself and everything about Michael. 'Yeah whatever,' she said, 'listen I haven't got all day, so I'm just going to grab my things...'

Karen blocked her in the doorway but the bitch didn't budge, so again she made it easier, with her face centimetres from Eve's and explained very slowly, 'there is not a fucking thing in this house that belongs to you or ever will. Now you listen to me, before I remind you your age by bending you over my knee you little cunt. Why don't you tell me all about the things you've been telling Michael's friends, including the one you were fucking behind his back?!'

'Oh, about him wanting to fuck his mom,' the girl said and laughed viciously, then took a step back onto the path. 'I'm only repeating the dirty little secrets he told me in all secrecy.'

'From what he told me, you were the one who was into all that "fuck me in the ass, daddy" shit,' Karen recalled with a satisfying smile. 'Fleshed out your lies a little – or a lot – didn't you, to cover your own ass. Looking at you, I'm not surprised.'

'Oh is that right,' the princess stalled. She had lost all confidence, and so soon, Karen lamented deep down. She was just getting warmed up.

'Number one, child,' Karen said and help up a finger, still keeping it easy. 'If I hear another word about your slutty sociopath behaviour, I will ruin your ass so hard in court that your grandkids will need a life supply of wet-wipes; god forbid you ever breed!

'Number two,' holding up another finger, 'if you ever come to this house again looking for a fight or looking to steal from me and my son, you'll get one. And then those grandkids of yours won't have asses to shit through!

'And number three?' the girl asked cockily.

'Get the fuck off my property right now, with your sulky bitch face, or I will remove the ability to procreate from the equation...'

7

Michael was not the type to forget his friends in a hurry, at least not the ones who deceitfully swapped sides over rumours, even if those rumours had not only been true, but also blossomed to fruition. The situation, long beyond the humble beginnings of mere dilemma, had damaged him to the point where he could go nowhere unless he was ready to be accused and insulted in public, by people he didn't even know.

12
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