Chapter 26: 04 The Tipping Point
Mom's words had reached me. I wasn't deaf or completely stupid. Later, while alone, in the middle of the night, when the world was pitch black, and the weight of the future loomed over everyone, the skin-shivering and bone-chilling fear of living life as an eighteen-year-old dad hollowed out my insides, making it difficult for me to fall asleep.
It had taken a while.
Most of that fear had bled out of me by the time I had awakened. Later, the sight of Jenna in the afternoon and the feel of her lips helped me find my courage, but I still sat Jenna down to talk to her about my mother's concerns.
"Fine, we'll take it slow," Jenna said between planting soft kisses on my lips, "but my pussy is getting fucked by you and that big dick of yours soon."
My cock jumped, and soon would have meant right then if my mother hadn't joined us in the living room. I didn't even know what we were watching. We had stopped in the middle of choosing something from a streaming site involving laser swords and half-naked alien women with tails on their heads when Mom had joined us. We chose a movie, and I'm sure both of us hoped that Mom would get up and go away.
She didn't.
The living room in my house has a simple setup. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall in line with the front door, with two sets of motorized, retractable curtains. The curtains closer to the window were white and transparent, while the second set were thick, blackout curtains for when Dad fires up his flat-screen TVs--yes, that's plural. He thinks he lives in a sports bar. Facing the TVs are three white couches set in a horseshoe pattern with a glass coffee table and other living room stuff that most homes have. Jenna and I cuddled together on one of the side couches while Mom sat on the long couch directly facing the TV, meaning we couldn't really see her unless we looked behind and to the side of us.
We didn't look at her.
Instead, we watched the movie while Mom watched us. I don't know if Jenna could feel it, but I could feel Mom's green eyes cutting into me with the surgical precision of one of those laser swords on TV. (I know it's not called a laser sword. I don't care.) I cared about Mom's eyes, watching, and judging--perving on us like some almost forty-year-old nun eager to unsheathe her yardstick and slap the devil out of us. That thought conjured the image of an Italian nun--because all of the sexy nun pornos I've seen were Italian--bending Jenna over a table and spanking my girlfriend's butt until her cheeks turned red. That was a good thought. It was such a good thought that my cock sprung to life beneath my jeans, pushing into Jenna's ass. Jenna didn't hesitate to push back against my prick with my mother right there!
Did Mom think her eyes were going to keep us from having our fun? At some point, people who believe that other people were watching them eventually go nuts. So, what would happen to someone who knew that someone was watching them? I didn't know, but I did know that I wouldn't let Mom embarrass or intimidate me into a life of abstinence. If she was going to invite herself into my world with Jenna, then I was going to let her watch.
I had my arms around Jenna, but as these thoughts went through my head, and she pushed her butt against the growing concern in my pants, I raised my right hand--my top hand--and I placed it on my girlfriend's side and squeezed.
Jenna shifted, uttering a laugh that she had tried to contain, and my cock swelled to its full hardness. As I thought, Let Mom watch, my heart sped up, and a chill raced across my shoulders, riding my arms down to my wrists and leaving my insides buzzing with an energy that wanted to escape my body. I curled my fingertips over Jenna's side, caressing her, and without thinking, I pushed my cock into her butt while knowing that Mom was watching us.
Could Mom see my minuscule movements?
I pushed harder into Jenna, and she pushed harder against me. With Jenna cradled in my arms, I could see the profile of her face, and when I urged my prick into her ass, which was only covered by those cute cotton sweatpants that women like to wear, the corner of her lips pulled into a wide smile. I could see pink in her cheeks. As her smile widened, she pushed her butt harder against me, giving my member a soft grind, which sent an electric pulse through my pole from the tip of my dick down into my balls. I had to fight off a moan, but I tightened my ass cheeks and pushed my tented pants deeper into Jenna's crack, my skin warming and the pace of my heart's thumping increasing. What was Mom going to do about this?
"I'm cold," Jenna said, turning her head to look over her shoulder at me. "Can you get a blanket?"
"Yeah," I said.
On the living room's couches, a blanket lay draped over each of the backrests. I grabbed the one from our couch and slid it over our bodies. I thought I heard Mom make a noise, but Jenna's giggle as she wiggled her butt against the ache in my pants kept me from being sure.
Now what, Mom?
"Jenna," Mom said in a quiet tone that shot from her to us in a straight line. "It's time for you to go home."
Holy fuck, had I asked that question aloud?
Jenna looked at my mother.
I looked at my mother, but this wasn't my house. I could argue about some things, but I couldn't tell my mother what to do in her own home.
"Okay, Mrs. Hornsby." Jenna swung her left arm upward, pushing the blanket from her body and over mine, baring my front and the sideways pyramid my cock had turned my pants into. I covered myself as Jenna stood, turned, and bent at the waist as she pressed her lips to mine for a quick, barely-there kiss. "I'll see you later."
"Now," Mom snapped.
Jenna's eyes widened, and she straightened her back and ducked her head as she quick-stepped it through the living room and out of my mother's house.
"Mom," I said, sitting up. "What the hell?"
There was so much I could have said, but that's what came out of my mouth. Mom, what the hell?
"Mark--"
"It's going to happen," I said, my heart pumping hard as a white-hot fire raced through my veins, reddening my cheeks.
I stood, not caring that I still had a hard-on as the blanket fell away from me. Mom's eyes darted to my crotch, widening, then she looked back at me with a strange defiance in her eyes.
"We're going to have sex soon." I licked my lips. "There's nothing that you, Mr. Mason, or Dad can do about it. I mean it. And everyone is going to have to live with it."
I walked out of the living room as Mom called, "Mark! Mark, get back here! Mark!"
My expression went from stern to glaring as I jogged upstairs, increasing my speed to get away from Mom's voice. I slammed my door once I was in my room. After a minute, I rubbed my hands over my face, and through my hair, then I looked at my door and then the doorknob, tempted to go back downstairs. My mother hadn't deserved that. All that she was doing was caring about me. But I didn't go, not until later in the night after my father had come into my room to tell me to make nice with my mother because between Mom and me, there was no question as to whose side he was going to take.
As he left my room, he said, "Hey, I'm not going without sex, too, because of you."
I shook my head and laughed at the casualness of his voice. Taking a deep breath, I smiled and went downstairs to make nice with my mother.