In the mornings, while Tom was at school, Anna would consider her options more lucidly. Tom’s problem was obvious to her now. He didn’t simply miss his girlfriend, he missed having sex with her most of all. His raging hormones, coupled with the novelty of sex, had triggered a powerful reaction in him, multiplying his lust exponentially. It would have been healthy enough if he only had a partner to express his sexuality with, but that was not the case. Tom had somehow been traumatized by the abrupt loss of his very first sexual partner and, on top of that, he had always been shy with girls to begin with. He wasn’t going to get another girlfriend any time soon, Anna knew, and his youthful state of arousal would not simply go away on its own.
The solution to Tom’s problem seemed clear to Anna: her son needed to have sex. Not melancholy auto-erotic sex with his own hand and the ghost of his ex. No. He needed to be loved by a woman in the flesh, he needed to be touched and kissed and pleased, so that he could realize that Victoria wasn’t the only person capable of making him feel good. Once he accepted that simple truth, Tom would be on his way to recovery. Or at least Anna hoped so.
In her most courageous moments, Anna imaged that she herself could be that woman for her son. She could help him. She could touch him. She could make him feel loved like only a mother could. She wanted to do all that, there was no denying it.
But then, at other times, she doubted the wisdom of this theoretical course of action. Was she really considering incest? Apparently, yes. She didn’t feel disgusted nor guilty at the idea of having sex with her son. After all, they were both adults and capable of making their own choices. She did fear the consequences of crossing that line, though. Would her relationship with Tom be ruined if the two of them were to break the ultimate taboo? Anna loved her boy, and she knew that he loved her too, even if now his emotions were pretty skewed. But could their mother/son bond be pushed as far as mother/son sex without disastrous emotional consequences? Was it possible that her solution might create an even bigger problem than the one it was supposed to solve?
At times, a subtler and more insidious question nagged at Anna. Would her son even accept her if she were to offer herself to him? That was Anna’s deepest, most secret fear about it all. What if Tom rejected her? He probably would not, Anna eventually concluded every time she looked herself in the mirror after she showered, observing her curvy body critically and finding that yes, despite her forty-two years of age, she was still gorgeous.
Her large breasts weren’t as perky as they had been when she was twenty, but they had gotten even bigger and were still quite firm, capped with puffy areolas and long, upturned pink nipples. Her tummy wasn’t as flat as it once was, but she kept herself in good shape with yoga, as her toned, shapely legs testified. Her ass was rounder than ever, and Anna was still very proud of it. She knew that her plump juicy bubble-butt drew more gazes than many a skinny girl’s flat scrawny tushy did.
Every day, as she waited for Tom’s return, Anna went over her thoughts and doubts, evaluating every angle, every possibility, and seriously considering the idea of having sex with her son. She weighed pros and cons, again and again and again, but she could never reach a decision either way. Unfailingly, she would find herself right where she started: torn between temptation, hesitation and arousal.
Eventually though, events took their own course and a decision was made for her.
Anna was silent as they drove back from Tom’s school. He just looked glumly out the window, sometimes stealing glances at his impassible mother then hanging his head, sighing in hopeless resignation. As she parked the car in the driveway and made her way into the house, Anna was composed on the outside while her fury burned inside her.
She barely nodded when Tom told her for the hundredth time how sorry he was. Her piercing gaze followed him as he dejectedly shuffled upstairs to his room. As soon as she heard his door close, Anna let out a strangled growl of frustration. So this was the point things had got to: getting called in by the principal to be told that her son might not be able to graduate unless he got his act together soon.
As if his lack of participation in class, his awful grades and his bad attitude weren’t enough, Tom had got in a fistfight with another kid who had cracked a joke about Tom’s ex girlfriend probably having fun with English boys while he kept crying over her. Tom had got off easy with a slap on the wrist in the end, but the principal told Anna in no uncertain terms that the next time her son ended up in his office, he would have to suspend him and, based on Tom’s current behavior, he had no doubt that there would be a next time. Adding that he was surprised to see a formerly good student spiral out of control so badly and so quickly, the principal advised Anna to intervene before Tom’s situation became irreparable to the point of preventing him from graduating that year.
Anna couldn’t believe it. She was in shock as she nodded silently and then left the principal’s office to take Tom home, feeling like she had a thunderstorm and a fire and a hurricane raging inside her all at the same time. She wasn’t even mad at Tom, she was mad at herself. She was his mother, she was supposed to take care of him and point him in the right direction and help him when he needed to be set straight. But she had failed him, with her procrastination and indecision and lack of initiative. She had seen a solution, considered it and found it viable and yet she hadn’t acted. Sure, it was unorthodox, but at this point all other measures seemed useless. She had waited too long, and now her baby was almost too far gone for her to save him.
That night, all through their silent dinner, Tom told his mother that he was sorry, over and over again, sadly apologizing to her. Anna just smiled weakly at him. She knew what he meant: he was sorry for the pain he was causing her, yes, she saw that, but she could also see that he was apologizing for the fact that he wasn’t going to do anything to change. Anna understood the powerlessness in his eyes and the resignation in his voice as he begged her to forgive him for letting her down. ‘How could I have let things come to this?’ Anna kept asking herself, long after she had done the dishes and Tom had once again retired to his room.