We’re on our second pitcher of margaritas and just finishing dinner when Jenny first mentions Jeremy.
“I wonder if they’re at your house yet,” she says, using a tortilla to wipe up the salsa and cheese left on her plate.
“I think he was picking her up at seven so I imagine they’ve been there a little while,” I answer, getting up from the table and rinsing my plate in the sink.
By the time we clear the table, fill the dish washer and move into the living room, Jenny has mentioned Jeremy several more times.
“So what do you think they’re doing, now?” she asks for the third time in half an hour. We’re on our third pitcher of margaritas and I’m getting pretty buzzed but I wonder about her fixation on her son’s date.
“For the third time, I don’t know what they’re doing!” I snap at her. “I told you what happened Thursday night and I’m guessing that if Megan is willing, he’s following the same sequence.”
“Well aren’t we touchy,” she smiles. “Anyone would think you’re jealous.” We talked earlier about my experience with her son on Thursday night. She was very interested in how good the sex was and asked several questions about how his cock felt inside of me. I assured her that he could hold his own with the best of them.
“Oh, please!” I answer but she’s closer to the mark than I want to admit.
“We should have put a camera in your bedroom!” she says as we’re sitting in the living room flipping TV channels, her wide eyes reflecting the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.
“A camera?” I ask. “What are you talking about?” I laugh but she’s serious. “What would we do, just tell them to ignore the video camera sitting here on a tripod?” I ask, finishing my umpteenth margarita.
“No,” she says, seriously. “We could put a wireless camera on the dresser and they’d never even notice it,” she says, matter-of-factly. “We’ll do it next time,” she declares. “You can invite them to use your apartment again next week”. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She wants to video her son having sex with his girlfriend. And I thought I was perverted!
“Where are we going to get a camera like that?” I ask, trying to dissuade her through simple logistics. She looks at me for a minute before responding.
“Come with me,” she says quietly, getting off the couch and leading the way into her bedroom. I follow her, wondering what she’s going to show me. She walks over to her dresser and picks up a small plastic ball with a tiny opening on the side.
“Look at this,” she says, handing it to me. “Do you think they would notice one of these sitting on your dresser?” she asks, mischievously. I look at the object in my hand.
“This is a camera?” I ask.
“Yes!” she says excitedly. “And it’s wireless!” she exclaims. “We could watch it from John’s computer” she is serious about watching Jeremy and Megan fuck! And she’s treating me like a co-conspirator! I’m speechless until another thought enters my alcohol-clouded brain.
“Jenny,” I say slowly, not sure I want to know the answer to my question. “Why do you have one of these cameras on your dresser?” I ask. She just smiles at me and picks up the remote to the plasma big screen TV, mounted on the wall opposite the bed.