Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 5 of 25
Universe: The Heat Wave
Summary: Meet Cletus Putnam: landlord, entrepreneur, opportunist, sometime
Dom.  It's hotter than Hell and he has the only swimming pool and central
air conditioning in his little lower middle-class neighborhood -- and he's
not above taking advantage of that fact.
Content: exhib mast MF M-dom oral voy

Chapter 5


        Karen showed up at about a quarter to twelve -- long after I
realized belatedly that she must be pulling a double.  Pete and I were on
the couch watching one of those late-night guys when the doorbell rang.  I
got up and opened the door and there she stood, looking ragged and smelling
smoky.  "I hope it was worth it," I muttered.

        "Me, too," she croaked.  "Where is Petey?"

        "Pete," I replied gruffly, "is in watching TV.  Do you have ANY IDEA
what calling him Petey does to his self-image?"  I backed up to let her in.

        She grimaced.  "Stupid of me, isn't it?"

        "Well, now that you mention it..."  She was carrying a fast food
bag.  "Is that supper?"

        "Yeah."

        "French fries suck, cold.  Want to heat them in the microwave?"

        "That would be nice, but I need to go home and soak..."

        "So you have a hot tub?" I asked innocently.

        "No..."

        "I do..."  I waggled my eyebrows.

        "Um, yeah...  Cletus?  Are you wearing anything under that towel?"

        "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

        "I'm too tired for the long version."

        "Then I'll limit myself to 'Nope.'  You know, if you asked me I
might even throw in a back rub."

        "You're a bad person, tempting me with bubbles and a back rub.  What
evil plans do you have for me once you have me all relaxed and receptive?"

        I chuckled.  "From the way you're asking that question, you already
know the answer."

        "Cletus," she sighed, "I couldn't possibly.  Quite aside from the
fact that I cannot possibly expose my fat, ugly body to your lecherous gaze,
my son is in the next room."

        "He's asleep," I lied, hoping he was listening.  "Besides, you can
keep your virtue if you insist -- but don't tell me you don't need that
dip."

        "You're right -- I do, but..."  She stepped over to the TV room
door.  Pete wasn't laughing at the jokes...  "Well, he IS asleep..."

        I wondered whether he was faking it or not -- but it didn't really
matter, as long as it removed an objection.  "We need to talk about him,
anyway.  I don't want to pretend to know it all about parenting, but he's
got problems."

        "It's that bad?"

        "I think so."

        "Okay, I'll use the microwave.  Got any salt?"

        A couple of minutes later, she was settled and gnawing on her burger
and fries.  "So..."

        "You're aware of the usual sexual orientation of mama's boys,
right?" I asked.

        "You're kidding, right?"

        "Well..."  I gathered my thoughts.  "He's not getting much respect,
is he?  Kate rides him pretty hard, I hear, and he's still your little boy
at fourteen.  He's catching a lot of crap at school -- and the only group
that accepts him -- even reluctantly -- is males.  That makes them easy to
gravitate to.  Where's his old man?"

        "Gone.  Long gone.  Pete -- uh, Peter was more or less my last-ditch
effort to save our marriage -- and it failed," Karen replied.  "Peter has
never really had a father."

        "Well, he needs SOMETHING," I told her. "Space, maybe.  Some respect
at home.  I'd suggest sports, but he looks as uncoordinated as I was at his
age.  A girlfriend would be ideal..."

        "What?"

        "Let's look at the women in his life," I argued.  "You're his mama.
Every boy's mama is perfect -- and he has no yardstick to compare you to
others, and no one else even close to being as important.  He idolizes you
-- but he resents being smothered.  Then there's his sister -- to whom he's
a nuisance.  Other girls ignore him totally or give him shit for his
issues...  He needs to break that cycle."

        "You make it sound like he needs to have sex..."

        "It might avert a crisis," I pointed out.  "There are other
possibilities -- like, for instance, discovering his mama has feet of clay
like everybody else."

        "That wouldn't be my first choice."

        "Excuse me?" I pretended confusion.  "I just meant that you could
reveal the occasional mistake -- or maybe ask his advice."

        "Oh."  Karen collected the various papers that had wrapped her
dinner and wadded the bag.  "I should probably get him home."

        "He's fine where he is," I argued.  "I've never seen a kid drink in
male companionship like he has.  YOU, on the other hand, still look like
shit."

        "Thanks," Karen snarled.

        "Quit farting around and go into my bathroom and put your ass under
the shower.  There are some big-ass towels in there -- come out wearing one
and I'll direct you to the Jacuzzi.  We can continue this conversation
there."

        "Why should I?"

        "Because you feel bad and you smell bad and when you come out of
YOUR shower, it'll still be hot and steamy -- that's why."

        "You're sure bossy!"

        "I'm surrounded by cantankerous women.  Why on Earth do you INSIST
on suffering?" I asked.

        "Look, I know what you want..." Karen accused.

        "Okay, then -- that's out of the way.  You can't avoid it?" I
prodded.  "Why don't you show me your superior powers of resistance?  I
don't rape my women -- you'll go willingly, or not at all.  Can't you
operate like that?  What do I have to do -- tie a hand behind my back?"

        "This is a trap," Karen muttered suspiciously.

        "Yup -- but it's got a NICE fur lining!" I chuckled. "All you have
to do is be as incorruptible as you THINK you are and you'll leave here
unsullied -- but cool, clean, and relaxed.  If you discover you're not,
well...  How long has it been since you paid the terrible price of failure,
anyway?"

        "THAT is none of your business!" Karen waggled a finger -- but she'd
stopped looking irritated.

        "That long, huh?" I grinned.

        "Cletus Putnam, you are an evil man!" Karen declared, standing.
"Where are these so-called big-ass towels?"

        "Right this way, Madame..."  I led her off to the bathroom.  While
she was getting clean, I checked on Pete -- who WAS asleep.  I moved him
just enough to keep him from getting stiff in places and threw an afghan
over him and turned off the TV -- then I went into my office and fired up
the surveillance system.  I was going to win this battle -- and when I did,
I would present Pete with a trophy that would free him from at least one of
his problems...

        "All right, lead on," Karen announced herself a few minutes later.
"Show me this miracle of relaxation."

        "Follow me."  I'd uncovered the tub and it was bubbling merrily.  It
had four seating areas.  "You want to use that one," I told her, pointing at
one of the four stations.

        "Look the other way," she directed.

        I sighed, but followed instructions.  "Are you settled?" I asked,
after a moment.

        "Yes."

        "Good."  I went to the controls and made an adjustment.

        "Oh!  Omigod!  Stop!" Karen shrieked.

        "Something wrong?" I asked innocently, turning the offending jet
down, but not off.

        "I was right -- you're evil!"

        "Okay."  I shucked my towel and settled opposite her.  "Felt good,
though, didn't it?"

        "I refuse to answer that..."

        "You're ALREADY incriminated," I chuckled.

        "Mmmm, whatever."  I hadn't shut it off -- and she KNEW I hadn't.
What she DIDN'T know was that the jet on her clit would slowly increase in
intensity over the next few minutes.  "About Peter..."

        "Wine?" I asked as I poured myself a glass.

        "We were going to discuss..."

        "And we will.  You're SUPPOSED to be relaxing!" I retorted.

        "And you're SUPPOSED to be giving me a back rub!"

        "So I am," I muttered, climbing back out of the tub.  "Now, about
the wine..."

        "All right.  It won't do you any good."

        "It's not there to do ME good, it's there to do YOU good!  You need
to relax!" I retorted, pouring.

        "Yeah, yeah.  Uuh!" she nearly dropped the glass when I dug into her
shoulders.  "About Peter..."

        "He needs a break," I declared.  "If he sees women as unattainable
and incomprehensible, he could take the path of least resistance."

        "That sounds bad."

        "Well, if you don't mind his being gay..."

        "I'll accept whatever he does, but I'd prefer that he wasn't.  Oogh!
That's..."  I was kneeling on the edge of the tub -- which wasn't
comfortable.  Karen was leaning forward to let me work.

        "This is better done on a massage table," I told her.  "It's kind of
painful here.  Why don't you let the water do its work and if you want that
rub we'll do it after?"

        "Okay."

        "Settle back..."  I reached under her arms to collect her breasts
while pulling her back against the tub.

        "You sneak."  She wasn't complaining.

        "Yeah, I'm evil."  I let go reluctantly and circled around to slide
into the tub again.  Seats on my side alternated with seats on hers, so I
settled on her right and picked up her right leg to rub the sole of her
foot.  She wiggled a little bit to make sure that jet was properly
positioned.  I could read her mind; she was thinking 'I can enjoy this
without letting things get out of hand...' -- and I knew that made it two
against one, because half of her had already been subverted and was lulling
the other half.

        I made the foot rub good while saying, "What Pete needs is some
control over his life -- and some respect.  Little shit like asking his
opinion occasionally -- and deferring to it -- will help him get a little
self-respect.  Optimally, we need to get you down off your pedestal -- which
is a great place for you to be, but isn't doing him any good.  Having you
defer to ANY man in his presence would be a good thing -- are you seeing
anybody?"

        "What?  No!  I thought this was about Peter?"

        "It is," I replied pedantically.  "I take it you're NOT seeing
anyone.  The point is that you're projecting the idea that you don't need a
man -- and that includes him.  How long has it been?"

        "Cletus!  Can we get back to Peter?"

        "Why are you not listening to me?" I asked, looking pained.  "This
is RELEVANT!"  I knew what her problem was -- her pussy was telling her
'Listen to the man -- I need a dick!'  "Have you EVER entertained a man in
his presence?" I pressed.

        "Entertained?"

        "Just dated -- I'm not asking if he's watched you fuck.  But that's
not something he has to see to know it's happening.  Well?"

        "N-no..."  She was riding that jet, now -- you could see it in her
face.  The talk kept reminding her how long it had been and the water poured
over her clit and bubbled around her and the sensations kept getting more
and more intense.  She floundered a bit, but I had her leg in the air -- she
wasn't going far.

        "Something wrong?" I asked.

        "N-no."  She couldn't bring herself to admit to me that an orgasm
was hovering close.

        "Good," I said, leaning up to take her foot on my shoulder so I
could lean in and run my hand up the inside of her leg, "I was afraid you
were getting uncomfortable and I want you to relax."  My fingers reached her
pussy and slid between the puffy lips and her eyes bulged and rolled up in
her head, "AAAAAHHHHH!!!"  She started undulating, so I let her leg slide
down to drape across my forearm -- but I didn't surrender her clit...
"Omigod!  Omigod!  Fuck!  Fuck!" she gasped as her ass bounced in her seat.
Then she flopped back and I used my fingers to open her pussy lips so the
jet could spray all along her quivering crack.  "You sonofabitch," she
gasped.

        "I probably am one," I agreed.  "Tell me you didn't need that.  How
long HAS it been?"

        "Shut up!"  She reached up and pulled me in for a kiss.  I collected
a handful of nipple in my off hand and started tweaking it.  She was hungry;
we weren't stopping here.  Her lips and tongue were demanding, wanting,
needing...  She broke the kiss and whispered, "Where?"

        "Where what?"

        "Don't be mean.  You win -- I surrender.  Where?"

        "I like beds, but we're soaking wet.  How about that lounger over
there?"

        'Fine.  Help me up."  Fifteen seconds later I had her legs over my
elbows and was rubbing my cock between her cunt lips.  "Easy," she gasped,
"It's been forever..."  But she was hot and wet and her twat wanted me in
the worst way, so it wasn't all that difficult getting in.  I put my ass in
gear and started drilling for pussy juice; Karen started singing "Oh!" every
time my pubic bone hit hers.

        I hit three gushers before my balls started to twitch and I let go
of a load; if it hadn't been for that session with the boys earlier, I might
not have done as good a job, because Karen's pussy was good shit and she was
NOT a dead lay.  When it was over and we lay there, sweating and panting,
she rubbed her face with her hand and mumbled, "I'd forgotten just how good
that feels.  Shit, now I'm addicted again."

        "I keep a supply on hand," I advised her, grinning, "for friends who
drop by."

        "I'm not protected," she muttered.

        "I've been cut," I assured her.  "All of us professional gigolos get
cut.  I'd have two hundred kids if I didn't."  I didn't mention the fact
that many of them would have been deliberate attempts to snag me via
paternity.

        She slumped.  "One less worry."

        "Okay, really, how long HAS it been?"

        "Years," Karen sighed.  "I was on the wagon.  When I fall off, well,
I'm dependent, so I get stupid and try to run man-traps -- and the worse
things go, the more desperate I get...  Either I do without or I turn into a
total tramp.  It's been a LOOONG time -- Peter's never seen me fall off the
wagon."

        "So he's in for an interesting time," I mused.

        "You're too good -- it's gonna be a while before I can get the genie
back in the bottle," Karen whispered.  "And I'm gonna chase you
shamelessly."

        "Do you get jealous?"

        "With my looks?"  She sighed.  "I just get more eager to please."
Her eyes grew distant.  "I've done some crazy stuff..."

        "Really?"

        "Don't ask."

        "But did you enjoy it?"

        "Yeah, at the time.  Later, I was disgusted sometimes."

        "Didn't you have to be, more or less, in order to shut it off?" I
probed.

        Karen shook her head, her face screwed up.  "Where are you going
with this?"

        "Is it about being married, or about having someone else run
things?" I asked.

        "I don't see how they're that different..."

        "I do," I told her.  "If you want someone else to be in charge of
your life -- especially your sex life -- that's not marriage, by and large.
But there ARE people who will do that shit -- me, for instance."

        "I don't understand."

        "You don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell of marrying me," I told
her.  "That's straight up.  But I WILL OWN your ass, until one or both of us
gets tired of it."

        "What?  You'll OWN me?"

        "Yup.  You do what I say, when I say it.  You jump when I yell frog.
In return, I take care of you."

        "How?"

        "What do you want?  A husband -- or protection, approval, and a
feeling of security?" I asked.

        "Well, I want a husband because he's supposed to..."  She waved an
arm.

        "In today's world, that's not the job of a husband," I told her.
"Husbands are supposed to actualize their spouses and be their equal -- or
less.  To get what you want, you have to volunteer to accept a subordinate
position -- which is not the modern thing to do.  You don't want a husband
-- you want a master.  You want somebody who tells you what to do -- and
takes responsibility for it, so all you have to do is what you're told --
right?"

        "I never heard it put that way, but yes -- I think so."

        "Let's talk about a couple of tests," I pressed.  "Do you eat
pussy?"  She gave me a look.  "If I TELL you to eat pussy or I'm gonna lock
you in a dog kennel, do you eat pussy?"

        Karen got an odd look on her face.  "Would you do it?"

        "Big time.  No empty threats.  Cross me and I paddle that big ass of
yours."

        "I eat pussy," she murmured in a strangled voice.

        "Understand me -- you can say no any time," I told her, "but when
you do, it's over.  We're done.  You toddle off and stay gone."

        "I understand."

        "You're sure?  Let's say I go up the street and find five random
guys and come back with them and tell you to pull a train.  What do you do?"

        "I pull a train."

        "It's one thing to talk about it..."

        "I've done worse," she croaked.

        "We'll see.  You're gonna tell me all about it, for one thing.  I
need to know."  I sat up and looked over at Jean's place -- and discovered
that open windows worked both ways; Jean wasn't quite quick enough getting
out of sight -- and Michael didn't try.  I returned my attention to Karen.
"Get up.  Put a towel down for your knees, then kneel up and give me head.
That's pretty simple, isn't it?"

        "Yes, that's simple..."  Karen looked a little dazed, but she did as
she was bid.  I collected big double handful of her breast flesh as she
started sucking our mixed juices off my cock.

        "How well do you know Jean?" I asked.  "Do you two get together and
talk about your sex lives?"

        "Mmph, not really," Karen withdrew to answer.

        "That's probably a good thing," I told her.  "See that window over
there?  Wave, because she's watching.  Go ahead, wave -- let her know you
know she's there..."  Karen looked at me, her eyes dark, then threw out a
hand and waved at the house.  "Michael is watching, too," I whispered to
her.  "You need to plan on taking Michael's cherry for him.  I'm gonna want
you to show him the ropes.  Won't that be fun?"

        "You're EVIL!"

        "And you love it."  She didn't say anything, just looked at me hot-
eyed.  "Get up and dry off and we'll go inside.  I'm gonna go to sleep with
my dick in you, somewhere -- how's your ass?"

        "Tight, probably -- it's been a while."  Karen smiled crookedly as
she rose and picked up the towel.  "How did you know?"

        "I didn't -- you told me."

        "But..."

        "You didn't know, yourself?  You've never had a master?" I asked
incredulously.

        "No -- just disasters.  That's why I went on the wagon."

        I put the cover back on the Jacuzzi.  "What's Kate going to say?"

        "I don't know."

        "You won't be able to hide it -- I won't let you."  I opened the
slider and we stepped through.

        "I know."

        "How does that make you feel?"

        Karen adopted an inward stare.  "Hot.  Is that weird or what?"

        "Not for what we're up to.  How about knowing that Jean saw you
blowing me?  Humiliating, wasn't it?" I asked.

        "Uh huh."

        "But it got you going, didn't it?"

        "Yes."

        "And Michael?"

        "Were you serious?"

        "Deadly."

        "Wow."

        I waved her ahead of me to the bedroom.  "We'll be playing this by
ear, but you understand the basics," I told her.  "You do what I tell you
and I cuddle you and tell you what a good girl you are and all's right with
the world.  If you fuck up, I call you a bitch and punish you and chain your
ass to the foot of the bed and let you lick my cum out of some other woman's
pussy.  Tomorrow, Pete is gonna find you with my dick stuck in you -- and
you're gonna like it.  Kneel up on the bed; I'm gonna fuck you until I get
tired, then I'm gonna flop us over on our sides and go to sleep that way --
with my dick in you."

        That's how we did it.

        I'd dropped three or four loads already and I'm no longer eighteen,
so I didn't have much to deliver -- but I COULD maintain a hard on for a
considerable period of time, which was all it took to make it incredible for
Karen.  She got pretty loud a couple of times, but Pete apparently had his
hearing aids out so it was no big thing.

        Waking up with an erection is no big thing, but maintaining one
while you sleep is a fantasy.  But it was hot despite the air conditioning
-- largely because Karen was churning it out like a space heater, so we
threw off the sheets; Pete got an eyeful when he got up the courage to stick
his head in the door I deliberately left open after my three a.m. leak.
"Cletus?  Are you up?  Did Momma ever...?"  I had one eye open by then and
got to see his double-take.

        Karen's eyes were open, too -- and when her mouth opened, I put a
stop to what she was about to do by covering it with my hand and whispering,
"Shut up, Woman -- and don't move a muscle until I tell you otherwise."  She
froze and stopped scrabbling around and lay there shaking in my arms while
Pete stared at her, goggle-eyed.

        I took up the far end of the conversation.  "Yeah, she showed up
around midnight, but you were out and she smelled like the inside of a
chimney and needed to get clean and cool and relaxed -- and after a while we
discovered she needed a little male attention, too, so I handled it.  That's
okay, isn't it?"

        "Y--yeah."

        "Okay.  I know you're both freaking a little, but I TOLD you
yesterday your mama was only human -- and the proof's in the pudding, you
know?  We've kind of hit it off, so it's gonna happen again -- not that I'm
gonna ever be your old man or anything, but..."  I cocked my head.  Pete was
still in shock.  I took my hand off Karen's mouth and said, "Say good
morning, or whatever - do y'all have any morning rituals?  A peck on the
cheek or something?"

        Karen gathered her courage and raised her head.  "Good morning,
Petey -- gime momma a kiss..."

        I smacked her on the ass.  "If I ever hear you call him that again,
I'm gonna be brutal about it!"

        "OH!" she flinched from the swat -- which wasn't soft -- and said,
"I'm sorry... Pete.  Cletus says I'm smothering you.  Is that true, Honey?"

        "Well..."  Pete stubbed a toe in the bedroom carpet.

        "I'll try to do better," Karen promised.

        "And I'll be watching!" I added from behind her.  "Y'all gonna do
anything?"

        Pete stepped in to give his mother a peck, tentatively.  "Lemme
guess," I murmured, "Momma hasn't been one to show her goodies around the
house, right?  Well, Pete, you KNOW we do shit naked here -- she's just
obeying the house rules.  No need to be embarrassed about THAT, either," I
added, pointing to his tented shorts, "Every guy your age has a hard on for
his momma -- we just have to rise above it, somehow.  We'll just have to
desensitize you both some.  Lift your leg, Karen."  I scooted down a bit to
get around her ass and poked at her hole.  "Pete, you know where the videos
are -- pick one out and use the Kleenex box.  We'll be out in a bit and your
Momma can fix us something to eat -- that okay?"

        Pete, watching my cock slide into his mother's twat, nodded.
"Okay."

        I waved him over and had him lean in while covering his mother's
ears.  "Straight sex, okay?  In the first place, it's on point, and in the
second, we don't want to surprise Momma too much, do we?"

        "N-no."  Pete watched his mother's face, fearful that my hands
weren't enough.

        "Run along, Son," I told him.  "I need to get serious about this so
your momma gets hers."

        "Yessir."  Pete all but dashed from the room.

        "What -- uh! -- did you tell him?" Karen gasped.

        "If I'd wanted you to know, you wouldn't have had your ears
covered," I replied pedantically.  "Man stuff.  You worry about fucking."

        "You're a horror!" she gasped.  "He's ruined for life!"

        "Trust me -- we just fixed a couple of things," I replied.  "It
might be a bit hard on you, but where he positions himself mentally
alongside women in general has just taken an adjustment.  Once he's watched
you dance to my tune a while, he'll have a lot more confidence in himself
around women."

        "You're evil!" she hissed.  "Fuck me -- fuck me HARD!"

        "Made you hot, didn't it?" I chuckled, ramming it to her.

        "Yes, God help me!  Ugh!  Huh!  Huh!"  She was diddling herself
rapidly as she took my strokes.

        "Maybe I should have had him get himself a little feel -- or a blow
job from his momma?" I whispered in her ear.

        "AAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!"  Karen let go totally; her pussy gushing fluid
around my cock.

        Pete came to see. Of course, his shorts tented from his activities
in the TV room.  "It's okay, Son," I huffed, not stopping.  "Your momma was
just enjoying herself."  Karen, humiliated, peeked at him from between the
fingers she'd covered her face with when he stuck his head around the door,
and nodded.  "Run along, now -- she's a little embarrassed."

        "Okay."  Pete backed off reluctantly, his eyes glued to our joining.

        "Omigod!' Karen gasped.  "That was SO humiliating!"

        I chuckled.  "And you loved it."

        "Yes..."

        "Get your shit together," I grunted, "I'm not here to please you --
it's the other way around.  Move that ass of yours and make me fucking happy
or he'll get to watch me stripe your ass with a switch!"

        "Yes, Cletus!"

        "Don't you dare cum again until I've shot my wad!"

        "No Cletus!"

        I know, it sounds terrible, but you have to get inside their heads;
that's the way she wanted it, deep down.  All I did by bossing her around
was make her hotter.  I'd seen this before -- not often, but occasionally.
Usually, once the woman let go and revealed the fact that she was into such
things, she found excuses never to return -- but I'd had a couple hang
around for a while -- or call me up for phone sex where I made threats and
suggestions while she masturbated from her place of safety and pretended to
be horrified.  I'm not a professional Dom by any means, but I have a few
basic skills -- and I enjoy the work.  Jean and her family were gonna have
to sit on the shelf for a while, it looked like -- I had a project.  I
rolled her up doggie and humped her ass for five minutes or so before
blowing a load in her twat -- then, because I'm a generous motherfucker, I
rubbed her off with my fingers while twisting the shit out of her right
nipple.  She loved it.

        After that, I swatted her on the ass and told her, "Go see if you
can whip us up some breakfast -- there ought to be some eggs and bacon and
bread out there.  I'll be in to make coffee, because I'm particular about
mine."

        "Like this?" she asked, waving at herself.  God knew where her
clothes were.

        "Like that," I confirmed.  "I want to see my cum running down your
leg.  You just pretend it's the most natural thing in the world -- because
it's going to be.  Now git!"  I swatted her on the rump again.  And she got
up and headed off down the hall, obviously nervous about it.  I took the
obligatory post-coital leak and headed into the kitchen.  "You can wear that
apron over there while you're cooking," I told her, pointing to a chef's
long apron.  "Nobody likes having their goodies burned, including me."  I
started setting up the coffeemaker.

        "What's he doing?" Karen asked.

        "Beating off, I imagine," I told her.  "You didn't look?  Might be
educational."

        "I'd... better not," she muttered.

        "Okay.  You get cooking and I'll go check on him," I said.  "We
probably ought to talk, anyway -- put things in perspective."  I fired off
the pot and headed for the TV room.

        Pete looked up guiltily as I walked in and started trying to get his
shorts on.  "Relax," I waved it off, "I TOLD you to do it...  Besides, we've
seen each other's dicks."  I plopped down on the couch beside him.  "You
okay?"

        "Somehow, I never pictured Mom..."

        "Fucking some guy?" I finished.  "I ASKED you if it was okay..."

        "Well, yeah - and it was.  I just didn't expect..."

        "Well, I got taken by surprise somewhat, too," I admitted.  "You're
gonna find that things have changed -- I'm gonna make your momma show you
she's a real, flesh and blood type, like the rest of us.  You should get
used to seeing her naked, because I'm gonna make her be that way when she's
here."  I sat back.  "You'll have a drawing card with her, too -- because
she doesn't need to know about anything YOU'VE been doing -- that's between
us.  That kind of puts her at a disadvantage, you know?"

        "Um, yeah..."

        "Learn to use it," I advised.  "In the first place, if you start
exercising a little control over your mother, your sister is gonna see that
and hit the brakes -- which is the first step to seeing her knuckle under,
too."

        "I dunno.  It seems..."

        "Wrong?"  I chuckled.  "Little do you know...  Take her aside and
ask her whether she likes it or not.  Either she'll lie to you or you'll be
surprised.  She likes it a LOT -- some people might consider it unhealthy,
she likes it so much."

        "Then how come...?"

        "You haven't seen it?" I finished for him.  "Because she had nowhere
to go and she had to be strong for you and your sister.  You know about
alcoholics, right?  Well, your momma is a sexoholic -- and she's been on the
wagon.  She wasn't seeing ANY guys because if she did, she'd go wild and it
would be embarrassing and she didn't think it was a good idea to raise you
kids while pursuing a career as an absolute slut.  I give her a lot of
credit for that -- but it's over.  She's gonna BE a slut -- MY slut -- and
you get the benefits, more or less."

        "What benefits?"

        "She'll back off on smothering you -- she has to, not only because
she can't hold her head up, but because I won't let her.  You'll get an
opportunity to exercise some control over her and your own life.  With some
luck, you'll get a bit more confidence around girls."

        "Cletus, I..."

        "Did you watch straight videos, like I told you?" I asked.

        "Yes."

        "Did you get off?"

        "Well, yeah..."

        "But you were thinking about sticking your dick in your momma?" I
prompted.

        "Yeah." Pete hung his head.

        "That's the point, Son -- your momma is a woman.  Therefore, you can
get off on women -- it's as simple as that."

        Pete nodded, musing.  "Still..."

        "Son, I'd have her blow you or fuck you, but the whole incest thing
is not healthy.  You can't take her to dances and shit, anyway, you know?
We'll find some quiet little slip who will follow you around like she's at
heel and kneel up on command and you'll be well on your way to enjoying the
good things in life."

        "Well, okay."

        "Come on," I told him.  "Your momma is cooking breakfast.  She's
mostly naked, too, so take advantage of it -- it'll humiliate her a little
and put you on top of the heap..."  We got up and headed for the kitchen.