Every time I got horny over the next several weeks, mom was all I could think about. The sight of her, the sounds she made when I thrust in her, the incredible feeling… Rather than thinking of the girls at school, supermodels or movie stars, fantasizing about one of them going down on me, I would jerk off in the shower, picturing the sight of my mother’s head bobbing up and down in my lap. All I could think about was having sex with my mother, wishing that it would happen again soon…
Then, once I’d had an orgasm and my head cleared, I felt ashamed. Damn, I had actually fucked my own mom. While she was drunk and helpless. Shouldn’t I do something about this? Stop it from happening again, somehow? Take some precautions in case it did?
I was walking through a supermarket when that thought occurred to me. I had just passed the shelves with condoms and other ‘intimacy paraphernalia’, and I swallowed nervously at the prospect of buying such things for the first time. Like any teenager needing to build up the courage to do so, I walked around in the shop a dozen times before chickening out and leaving empty-handed.
I then debated the issue in my head. I mean, even if I never did anything with mom again, I should have some condoms, I thought. Every guy should have some of those. And practice using them, so that when the time comes, you don’t spend half an hour trying and failing to put one on. That’s how I justified it to myself. It wasn’t really that I wanted to keep having sex with my mother – it was just a sensible, reasonable thing to do. Yes, that was it.
I drove for almost an hour to a completely different store way on the other side of town. I never came here, so nobody’d recognize me, I thought. It was also a pretty big store, giving me anonymity in the crowd. Still nervous, I walked in, started filling up the cart with soda, snacks, toothbrushes and lots of other random items… and throwing in a pack of condoms, hoping it would ‘disappear’ in the pile. My heart was still racing as I went to the checkout.
Of course, nothing happened. Nobody said anything. No strange looks from the cashier or other people hanging around. It felt like everybody was watching me, ready to comment on the fact that there were condoms in my pile of shopping. Somebody was probably going to shout out my name and ask what I was doing with those, right…?
Nope. Nobody cared. Luckily, most people are focused on their own issues and not what other people have in their shopping cart. Making my way out to the car with bags full of stuff I didn’t really need, I felt elated that I had escaped with my mission accomplished without negative consequences. Once I was back home and in the safety of my own room, I hid the condoms in a drawer underneath a pile of notebooks from school. Mom definitely wouldn’t find them there.
Not that she went looking. She didn’t search my room, certainly not to look for condoms, porn magazines or anything like that. As long as she was sober, mom was nothing like that sexual creature who’d behaved in such a shockingly slutty manner – she was just… mom. The woman who could do it all – be a home maker, a career woman, a nurturer. The woman who helped me with my homework, who encouraged me to pursue my interests… It was just when she got drunk that she’d become a totally different person.