While the ensuing years saw the blossoming of a beautiful filial relationship and even an amicable friendship between the two, Helen’s feelings for the boy remained complicated. The gods saw fit to sculpt a human David out of the teen as the years progressed; combined with her husband’s neglect, the image of Jason in boxers had provided the housewife with innumerable intense, guilty climaxes. Worse, according to bridge club rumors, the very romantic successes that she had helped the boy attain had apparently forged a sexual virtuoso of legendary endowment, stamina, and technique. She was not surprised to discover that the boy had many devotees from his high school: Helen had opened the front door countless times to find nervous teenage girls who sought her son’s attention. Last week, however, she had been stunned to learn that many of his conquests had been older women — mothers and aunts of his unsuspecting friends and neighbors. She wondered if he retained any of his desire for her.
For the next hour, lost in her thoughts, Helen roamed the party, downing glass after glass, and faking enthusiasm at pleasantries. As her boredom and inebriation grew, so did her libido, especially with the salacious thoughts pervading her mind. Eventually, desperately horny, she made her way to her husband, who had previously abandoned her for his drinking friends. She embraced him, whispering into his ear.
“H-hi honey. How’re youuu doing? I loooove you… please take me home and fuck me.”
Paul pushed her away, “Goddamnit Helen, you’re drunk. Don’t embarrass me like this.”
Grabbing her by the wrist, he dragged her through the party until he found his son.
“Take your mother home. She’s not feeling well.”
Jason took her arm and gently placed it around his shoulder, “Oh no! Are you ok mom?”
“Noo sweetheart — I’m nnot. I don’t *hic* want you to leave me.”
Quietly, Helen added, laughing, “Alssso your mommy’s hornny. She needs to get FUCKED.”
The teen’s eyes shot open at his mother’s candor and thanked the heavens that nobody else had heard.
Paul fished in his pocket for a couple of bills and shoved them into Jason’s hand, “Take her home, but stop by the pharmacy for some of those hangover pills. Put her to bed — I’ll be home after the party ends and take it from there.”
As they began the short trek to the car, Jason reassured his mother, “Sorry dad was such an asshole. I’m gonna take you home, ok mom?”
She kissed him on the cheek, “Okkkaaay. Yyou’re suuuch a goooood boy.”
At the car, Jason opened the passenger door for his mother and tried to usher her in. Completely unstable, Helen tumbled forward, her head stopping just shy of the car door thanks to Jason’s quick hands.
Noticing that his right hand was firmly grasping her breast, the teen quickly pulled back, “Wow, uh sorry.”
Too groggy to know better, Helen smiled wolfishly, “Oh cooome on *hic* it’s not like youu haven’t seen and touched theeese before.”
Jason fondly remembered their short tryst, but quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a car drive by. He helped the buzzed housewife in the car and reached over her to buckle her in.