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If you see me around with my stepmom, Natasha, you’ll be totally envious of our relationship. My mom is so smart, so sweet how she hooks her little arm into mine when we walk, and she is so agreeable. We never fight. She understands me. It wasn’t always like this.
When my father passed on four years ago, things changed between me and my stepmom, Natasha. Mom felt like she had to become involved enough for two parents and she became really uptight. She thinks that quitting my part time job is some sort of rebellion, but how could I get straight A’s if I don’t make school my focus? One rainy afternoon on a Friday I heard her car pull up in the drive and I turned down the sound on my video game. I was hoping to become invisible, because back then, I could do nothing right in her eyes.
She came in and started rambling through a list of things that I had did wrong that day and I looked closer at her. The rain on her skin made her skin dewy and youthful. Her arms were waving around as she lectured, and it made her top climb up to show her bellybutton. My eyes shifted to her breasts in her form fitting shirt, I made sure I kept glancing up and nodding so she didn’t know I was ignoring her. I felt my cock grow in my pants as I concentrated on the little symmetrical nubs on her shirt. I’ve never seen my mom’s breasts before. She’s a modest woman, and this outfit is the raciest I’ve seen her wear.
The rain began to pick up, thunder rumbled in the distance. Natasha still going on about what I should and shouldn’t do, and I wish that I could control her like the APB robots at school. I’d make her fall madly in love with me, eager to please my every desire and whim. Lighting struck so loud it made me jump out of my fantasy. Mom put her hand to her forehead and sat on the bed.
“you, ok?”
Natasha, “Yeah.. I was just thinking how terrible I sound. Have you ever heard your own voice and felt disgusted with it?
I searched my brain wondering how to respond.
“I think that just happened to me, like a sort of epiphany,” she sat up and looked at me with her big hazel eyes.
“Mom? Do you want me to go downstairs and do the dishes or clean up..?”
She shook her head no, “I don’t know what I want, honey. My head is blurry.”
“Maybe you need to relax?”
“Is that what you would like me to do?”
I nodded my head. It’s not like my mother to ask me what I would like her to do.
“Yes, son.” Mom rubbed her head and laid her head on my pillow. You’re relaxing in my bed?”
“Where would you like me to relax, son?”
“Uh.. wherever you want.” My Mom sat up and rubbed her forehead as she does when she has a headache.
Natasha, “I’m sorry, darling. I can’t even think about what I want.”
“Why don’t you go and lay in the bath with your lavender salts. That always relaxes you.”
My mom looked at me just then, but something was different in her expression, her eyes were more vacant, just as if she was starring into space. She nodded her head and smiled pleasantly, “yes, son.” She left the room. The strange interaction made it difficult to go to sleep. I thought about checking up on her, but instead I kept to my room. Maybe she just needed the night to recharge.

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