Chapter 3
She considered for a moment. "Honey, I have a lot of bitching to do. Tonight wasn't the first night Ted pissed me off. And I may start ranting about other guys as well."
"Well, just don't start crapping on me for the crime of being a guy, and it sounds like we have a good evening planned," I said with a shrug. "Come sit, I'll get you a beer, and we'll warm up some pizza."
"Pizza, beer, and complaining," she muttered, relenting and coming over to the table finally, sitting down across from me. "It's like university all over again."
"That's the spirit," I said as cheerfully as I could as I stood up and went to the fridge to get the beer I'd offered her along with leftover pizza. "Sounds like we both need it."
Half an hour later...
Mom was still grumbling, and I listened intently. She took another pull on her beer, made a face and scowled at it. "Ugh, domestic..."
I shrugged. "Y'want wine, that's something you do with girlfriends while you complain about how much men suck. We can switch to that later. I'm your son, and I offered beer."
"Fine," she said, pointing the lip of her bottle at me. "But after a few of these, you do at least one bottle of wine with me."
"Okay, fair," I said. Wine wasn't my preference, but I was perfectly capable of drinking it when called upon. "You were saying about Ted?"
"Oh right," she remembered, her countenance darkening for a moment before starting in again. "He wasn't keen on giving oral, thought it made him look effeminate. He was more than happy to receive it, mind. And the few times I did manage to get it from him? Hardly worth the effort."
"Three outta ten, would not recommend?" I chuckled.
"Let some other dumb bitch find out he's got the tongue skills of a chimp on Thorazine," she grumbled before taking another pull, and then shoving a piece of pizza into her mouth. She waved the back of her hand at me to indicate it was once again my turn. "Teh muff abouf Gifa."
"Well..." I began, considering what exactly to tell her. She was still my mom, the schoolteacher, after all, but this had been my idea, so holding back seemed unfair. "Like I said, it was easy enough to get her to skin off her panties, so there's that."
"Did you use protection, or was she on some form of birth control?" mom asked after she swallowed her pizza.
"She was on birth control, seemingly, but I always had condoms handy in case she'd had one of her flighty days and had forgotten to take the pill. I used to make her time it so that I could watch her take them at school during lunch. That way I knew she remembered."
"And then it was rawdog city?" she snickered. "Not that I blame you, Aaron, it does feel so much better without a condom in the way."
"I'll take 'things I never expect to hear from my mom' for a million, Alex," I chuckled.
"This was your idea, young man," she pointed out. "And I am indeed venting and getting things off my chest. It's not like I've started fussing over you."
"And for that I am thankful, mom," I said, raising my beer in salute.
"Besides..." she almost murmured, looking a tad awkward and blushing, "I'm a woman, and I like the feeling of a guy busting a nut inside me."
"Make that two million, Alex," I sighed, shaking my head and smirking.
We talked and vented, and I was on my fourth beer while mom was on her third. We'd killed off the leftover pizza and now I was heating up junky Chinese food. Sometimes, it was exactly what you needed, and this was one of those moments.
Mom sighed as she stirred around the noodles in her bowl with her chopsticks. "Aaron, how often do you get laid?" she asked rather quietly. "I just wanna know, because if you're the teenage average, then I wanna see how far behind the curve I am. I used to not be, after all."
I shrugged, not really bothered by the question at this point. "I mean, if I'm honest, I probably get laid a little more often than your average teen, mom, because Gina was always good to go. And what do we mean by 'getting laid' specifically? Do I need to be inside her? Does getting oral from her count in a dark classroom at school?"
Mom giggled. "Questions I've tried to never ponder about my son. Well, okay, not true, I have spent time thinking about your sex life."
"You're my mom, so that doesn't surprise or bother me," I said. "It just means you care."
"I do," she confirmed. "But back to my question. How often do you get laid? Let's define it broadly as another person giving you an orgasm directly."
I had to think about it. Finally I answered. "Well, including getting blown, then about four times a week."
"Definitely more than me, but nowhere near as big a gap as I expected," she said.
"Well, I'm kinda busy, you know," I reasoned. "And it's not like it's one-and-done orgasms, sometimes there's marathon sessions with many orgasms. But I'm lumping those all together as one 'getting laid' event."
"Oh," she murmured, blushing a little. "You must hardly ever need to take care of yourself."
I guess I was feeling unusually honest. "That's a twice-a-day thing at least for me, mom, unless I got laid, in case maybe once."
Her eyes widened at me and then she began giggling and blushing more. "I'm sorry, I forgot about how horny and virile young men can be."
"So get yourself a young man to see to your needs," I reasoned, although I never would've believed I was saying it to my mother outside of this context. "Not like I'm gonna judge you."