Before I could say “No” I said, “Yes.” For some reason I WANTED Dad to know Mom saw it.
“What did she say when you showed to her? She tell you how big it was?”
I didn’t say anything.
“I’ll write that one down as a “Yes,” he said. Anyway, you did your job and got your foot in the door with Mom and got her invested in you as a person. That’s the angle I’ll play on, and not on shaming her with the photos.”
If Dad hadn’t been a policeman who had to deal with all sorts of things every day, I would have thought he was cold-hearted. But, to him, this was probably just another operation to get something accomplished.
“The first thing you do is go dark with chat.”
“Go dark?”
“Stop doing it. Go missing. No more contact. Period. I want your mother to wonder where this kid went. Got that?”
“Yeah. Dark,” I said.
“Remember, this is gonna get you laid for the first time. It’s with your mother, true. And let me tell you, she’s no great lay in bed. She’s as still and silent and cold and unresponsive as a mannequin. But, pussy is pussy when you’re ready to cum. That’s some free wisdom for you to take through life.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, and speaking of cum-no jerking off from now until zero hour, which is Saturday, the day after tomorrow. I need that nut sack of yours full and ready to flood your mom’s ovulating womb with little swimmers that will reach that egg. The whole point of this is to knock your mom up. Capeesh?”
“Yeah, Dad, I got it. We’re tricking Mom into getting pregnant. I got it.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it. Do I have to remind you that this gets you to go to college, and, as a byproduct, we get to be millionaires. Not too bad for wetting that big, fat noodle of yours.”
I tried for the rest of the day to not look for messages on the website, but I failed. Mom and I were supposed to chat at 4 again, but I stayed off. She left things like: “Where are you?” and “Are you OK?” and “Did I do something wrong? and “I need to talk with you.”
But, I stuck with the plan and stayed “dark” all day, and the next day.
Mom’s mood deteriorated, and went from sunny to cloudy to stormy. She started to snap at me for the smallest things, and I know it was because she either thought she was being ignored or abandoned, or BaBeeBoy69 had been hurt somehow.
On Friday night, Dad said to Mom, “I have to talk with you,” and walked to the bedroom. Mom followed while I watched TV and pretended not to notice. But, as soon as I heard the bedroom door close, I ran up and listened. I could hear every word:
“Beth, I know everything. I got the whole story.”
“About what?” Mom said, a quiver in her voice. She was probably feeling guilty to begin with. That’s a lousy place to start.
“BaBeeBoy69 sound familiar? Because he should. Because of all the time you’ve been spending with him. There’s no use in denying it. I had my guys do a trace. And guess what? I found Mr. BaBeeBoy69. Found him and have him on a drug charge. That is, if I want to press charges.”
“I don’t understand,” Mom said.
I did. This was the same blackmail Dad used on me. But, this time it was going to be BaBeeBoy69 who got squeezed. He was hoping Mom would come to his rescue and go along with his plan. I had to admit, this WAS a better angle because of Mom’s protective nature. The bastard!