“Yeah, they’re usually in her room or at least I think so, it faces the street so I can’t see. But they still do it in his room sometimes.”
“People sometimes vary where they have sex, change locations, it spices things up.”
Would that work on my husband?
“Oh. How would you feel if I keep ….” He stopped, wondering how far he could push.
I didn’t make him guess. Emboldened by the forbidden behavior I’d just witnessed, feeling explicit, I said, “…watching them fuck?”
Todd raised an eyebrow, slid his finger on mine, and in a conspiratorial tone said, “Exactly,” then, pronouncing each word deliberately and distinctly, said, “How-would-you-feel-if-I-keep-watching-them-fuck?”
I was enjoying the game. “As a responsible mother I absolutely forbid you from engaging in such inappropriate, dissolute, and, I note, illegal behavior.” Then turning his hand over and twirling my finger-tip on his palm, I said, “As a realistic mother, I have to acknowledge you’re eighteen years old, capable of making your own choices, and there is nothing I can do, short of switching bedrooms with you, reporting you to the police, or suggesting Milla close her blinds, to stop you. We both know I’m not moving into your bedroom, turning you into the police, or embarrassing my friend by letting her know her secret is out.”
I stopped. There was an unasked question on Todd’s face; it took me a second to figure it out.
“Don’t worry, I’m not telling your father. This is between us, strictly between us, got it.”
Relishing this turn of events, Todd again pushed the edge of the envelope. “I think so, but let’s make sure I understand. I’m forbidden from watching Milla and William, our neighbors, mother and son, my friend and your friend, fuck, or suck, or do anything else born in their horny imaginations, but if I’m bad you will not inform on me. Only you and I will know, it will be our dirty little secret.”
This was not the kind of conversation I should be having with my son. Sex talk, sex play, should be between husband and wife, but it had been so long since my husband had shown any interest in the subject and I was so horny and the situation so unique and I couldn’t resist; the truth is I didn’t want to resist.
“That’s the deal bub, keep this between us.”
Fiddling with my fingers, he said, “Agreed.”
* * * * *
When we got home Raw was over, my husband in bed. Todd and I walked upstairs, hugged; I felt his erection, thought with that thing man-sized thing, f he paid attention to William he’d learn how to make the ladies happy.
I crept through the dark of my bedroom to the master bath, closed the door, turned on the light, touched myself. I could wake my husband, but I knew what I’d get, disinterest. Instead, during a long shower, memories of Milla and William dancing in my head, I brought myself a very satisfactory orgasm.
* * * * *
While my husband showed no sign of recognizing it, Todd changed. Inspired, no doubt, by William, he paid attention to his grooming, dressed better, made sure his clothes accented his trim athletic build. Always ready with a compliment or kind word, Todd noticed what I wore, when I cooked something new or prepared something old in a new way, lent me a hand without being asked, listened when I spoke. And maybe it was only my imagination, but it felt like Todd was looking at me with new eyes. Our kisses and hugs grew more frequent, his hand was often on my back, or shoulder, or, when we sat together, leg.