Worried About Mom
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My mom had been gone a long time. The second she’d seen my black eye, she’d gone to confront the guy who did it. Stan. He’s bullied me in the past, but I thought it was over now that we were seniors in high school. Turns out I was wrong. He’d mocked me in front of our peers, I’d stood up for myself, and got a black eye for my troubles. And now Mom was going to tell him off. I heard the door open. Mom was finally back! She walked right by me like I wasn’t there, so I grabbed her arm and asked, “What’d you tell Stan?” Mom didn’t answer. She just gave me the nastiest smile I’ve ever seen, then shrugged me off, went to her bedroom, and slammed the door. I didn’t see her the rest of the evening, but…I heard her. I didn’t dare check on her when she was making noises like that. The next morning, she didn’t make me breakfast like she always did. I tried asking her for a ride to school through her locked bedroom door, but she just yelled for me to get lost. At least I didn’t have to deal with Stan at school that day. He wasn’t there. I planned on telling Mom about that when I got home, but the notion left me when I walked into my living room. Mom was naked on our couch, and she was playing with her boobs. She looked at me and grinned. “Look at my new tattoos, dork.” That’s what Stan always calls me. Mom spread her legs, and my eyes darted to the smooth slit between her legs. “Hey!” she snapped. “I didn’t say look at my wet pussy. You’re a pervert, dude. I’m your Mom. Heh heh.”