This is Chapter 03 of this series. It is strongly recommended that you read chapters one and two otherwise you will be lost. As always, please vote and comment. I already know the direction this story will be going for several chapters, but suggestions may alter how the story gets to the intended conclusion. Thank you for reading.

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Chapter 3: Mark Knows

March 27, 2014

I have to sit here and focus on this before I lose the details on how it all happened. Last night I got distracted by recalling my actions with mark the night prior to him finding everything out. I must admit, though, that sucking his cock and feeling his cum on my hands was thrilling.

So, after I woke from blowing my son and fake-fucking him, I went to the kitchen and made breakfast. I had no intention of telling him what had been transpiring between us, but when he got up, he had a plan for the day that I couldn’t let him follow through with.

I had set the table as I usually do, only this time I put juice, water and Motrin next to his plate. I knew he would need those after thinking I was a stripper. He didn’t have to work today so I intended to see what his plans were. The whole time, however, I could not release from my brain the fact that his dried cum was brushing against my leg from the night prior. It was kind of a turn on and I caught myself loosening my robe in hopes that he would come out and maybe see a breast about to fall out or catch a glimpse a little farther up my robe than normal.

I should be clear at this point that I’ve never noticed Mark pay any special attention to me as I’ve heard some boys do with their moms. He also has no idea what has been going on. So, I suppose him coming out to find him mom acting like a raging slut would be a little traumatizing. Still, though, I could feel myself getting turned on. It would have to wait until another time or at least when Mark leaves the house today. It’s a good thing I waited because as I was getting bacon off the griddle, he stumbled into the kitchen wearing a new t-shirt and some pajama pants. He looked freshly showered.

“Good Morning, Mom.” He said, his voice a little hoarse.

“Hi, dear, how are you feeling?” I asked, genuinely interested.

His hand went to his head and he half smiled. “Hangovers are a bitch, but this one isn’t so bad. Showers always help.” He didn’t sit immediately, instead walking over to me and hugging me from behind. “Thanks for setting out some Motrin, that should kill the headache!” he added.

I should note that I wasn’t wearing anything under the robe. When he hugged me, I could tell he was a little hard since I could feel it on my ass before he left to sit. There was simply two pieces of flimsy fabric baring direct contact of his cock on my ass.

“What are your plans today since you don’t have to work?” I asked.

He didn’t answer immediately which wasn’t concerning until he started to speak.

“I think I’m going to the doc in the box down the street.” He said shyly, almost inaudibly.

“Are you not feeling well?” I questioned, curious as to what the issue was. He seemed fine the day before.

He didn’t answer me, so I turned around and looked at him. He was making facial expressions and hand gestures as if he wanted to say something but changed his mind. I gave him some time and brought breakfast to the table and put his servings on his plate. Once the food was on the plates, I returned the dirty dishes to the sink and sat down at the table, watching him.

“I don’t really want to say, mom. It’s kind of personal.” He said, looking at his plate. I think I knew where this was going.

“Mark,” I started, “we have a pretty open relationship here. You can say whatever you need to say to me without judgement or hard feelings.”

“I know. It’s also kind of embarrassing.” He added.

“Does it have anything to do with drinking?” I asked, seeing if this was going where I thought it was going.

“Kind of, but not the drinking so much as what I am apparently doing while drinking. Wait, not what I’m doing but the fact that I know what it is, but don’t remember it.” He said, stumbling through his thoughts. Yes, this is what I figured.

How to approach this, do I let him go on about his day thinking he’s banging every Mary and Sally he finds? Do I make him think he may have an STD? Wait, what if he was fucking someone else in between times when he was fucking me and didn’t remember? I needed to drive this conversation without giving away my secrets.

“So, what you’re saying is you’re drinking so much in a single night, you can’t even remember you’re having sex with someone?” I asked bluntly, his eyes widening.

“Mom! I mean, yeah but…” He stammered.

“Don’t ‘Mom!’ me. I’m here to help you work through your problems, not watch you crash and burn!” I said sternly. “So, you don’t remember who you’ve been sleeping with. What makes you think you have been?” I asked, probably already aware of the answer poker oyna considering the evidence is inside my robe, resting against my leg.

“Well, I wake up in the morning and there’s… let’s just say unmistakable evidence of it.”

“I see, and who do think you’ve been sleeping with? Kathy? I haven’t seen her in a while, ya know.” I skillfully added. Now was a chance to get the intel on this happening.

Mark rolled his eyes, sighed and let out a long ‘No’ as he stopped eating.

“Why did you say it like that? Are you not still dating her?” I asked, despite knowing the truth.

“That’s a long story, but the short answer is no, we are not dating anymore. That has been over for a while now.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked, hoping he would.

He thought long about how to respond. Maybe he would be more comfortable later talking about this particular issue. I needed to get him back to the original line of questioning. My goal was to prevent him from going to the doctor when I know he doesn’t need to. We don’t live in a two-block town where the old ladies at the hair salon know everyone’s business, but it’s small enough that word could get around and that’s not something I need Mark to deal with.

“Ok, it’s clear you don’t. So, if it wasn’t Kathy, then who else could it be?” I asked. His answer here would likely open the door for more questions.

“Well, since you’re clearly not going to let this go. The first few times I don’t really know. That bothers me a little, but what bothers me even more is last night. We went to the strip club and wound up in the VIP room. I watched a couple guys get laid right there in front of me before some random stripper started giving me a lap dance. The last thing I remember was her grabbing my hands and putting them on her…” He said, pausing a little longer than normal, clearly searching for the word he felt would not offend me.

“Tits. She was putting your hands on her tits.” I finished for him.

He laughed a little, which I was happy about because I wanted this morose mood to be lightened. “Yes, she did. But I don’t remember anything after that. If we had sex, and I don’t remember, then that bothers me.”

“As it should.” I added, “But are you sure you were able to? I mean, I’ve heard when guys drink enough to where they lose memory of the evening, they have a hard time performing. Right?”

“I’d rather not get into all that, Mom, but not every guy is like that. Plus, alcohol takes a while to hit and if it hits you hard, you could um, perform, and then lose that memory later.”

These were things I knew already. His father and I did our fair share of drinking in our early years before he gave it up for good and we both have had evenings where one or both of us don’t remember the entire evening. Horrible, yes but we toned it down when we realized bad things happen when nobody can remember the night before. Anyway, I gathered up the information I gleaned from him up to now and went straight to the point. The problem, however, is I was going to have to come clean to him. But now is not the time.

“So, do you think you have contracted something?” I asked, setting my fork down, looking at him.

“I… I doubt I would know this early, but I want to get checked out. That’s the smart thing to do at this point, I think.”

I needed to tell him there was no need for him to go, but I would also have to explain to him how I knew this. I also didn’t want to tell him at the breakfast table. Maybe I could keep him occupied until such time came this evening where I could tell him in a more comfortable and accepting environment.

“Mark. Let me tell you, you do not need to see a doctor. Yes, it’s the smart thing to do given your situation, but I can assure you, you do not need to see the doctor.” I said, waiting for whatever reaction he might have.

He laughed slightly and obliviously asked “What makes you so certain?”

“Look, I will share with you what I know, but later. Why don’t you come out with me today for lunch and we’ll have lunch, do some shopping, maybe get a bottle of something and come back and have an evening together?” I asked, hoping he would bite off on my idea.

“I don’t know why you think you know what you claim to know, but fine. We haven’t been out in a while. Wait, did I bring anyone home with me on the nights I don’t remember?” He asked, trying hard to remember.

“I said,” pausing to finish my meal, “I’ll tell you what I know later! Now, finish your breakfast and let’s get ready to head out.”

The day had gone as planned, and we went out to town. We got a movie, had some lunch, bought some clothes and some things for around the house. It was a good time. I was afraid during lunch that he would question me more about what I know, but he didn’t. I was amused watching him, though. He looked lost in thought at times trying to figure out what happened during those nights. I’m pretty sure his mind was going to be blown when I canlı poker oyna told him. I also remember thinking that maybe his mind wasn’t going to be the only thing blown if the night goes as I planned. I admonished myself for thinking that, but also admitted to myself that it was likely to happen.

The last stop before returning home was the liquor store. I could get a nice bottle of wine and also learn what he likes to drink. As we got closer, I told him I would go in and get what he wanted. He said it didn’t matter, but Red Bull and Vodka was his favorite drink. I told him that it’s no wonder he doesn’t remember things the following day.

He thought for a minute and surprisingly said “You know, you’re probably right. I should stop drinking to that effect. How about some plain Vodka and we have orange juice, correct?”

I nodded and said it was good of him to tone it down some. Still, though, I was going to have to prepare his drinks for him so that he was in the right mindset for the entire evening. I went into the store, got what we needed and headed home. Once there, we put everything away and decided to order in. He suggested that since it’s been a fun day, let’s not ruin it with the hassle of making dinner. We ordered Chinese food from the place down the street based on his recommendation. We finished cleaning up and changed into more comfortable clothes.

While he was changing, I accepted our food delivery, prepped the plates, made the drinks and put it all out on the coffee table. I put the DVD into the player and waited for the main menu to show up. I then went to change. I stripped off all my clothes and stood in front of the mirror. I was nicely shaved from the evening before, but I wanted to wear something nice tonight. I found a matching bra and panty set from my dresser and then put the same robe from earlier on over top. I figured I might need some evidence to show in case he doesn’t believe me.

I walked back out to the living room where he had made himself comfortable, remote in hand. Always the gentleman, he waited to eat until I was seated. He asked if I was ready to start the movie and I was so, he started it and we ate and had a few drinks before the movie was over. Now it was time to fess up. He had gotten a little chattier and I was relaxed quite a bit more than I was this morning. I thought I would start but he clearly could not wait.

“How do you know I don’t need to see anyone?” He asked, turning to look at me.

I lowered the recliner and paused a minute to figure out where to start. I decided to ask him when the first time he thinks he had sex with someone recently without remembering.

“Well, it was a few weeks ago, I suppose. I went to work, then to the bar not long after. I don’t recall meeting anyone there, so I guess that’s the first time.” He said, thinking back.

“Ok, well, before I tell you what happened that night, I will tell you something else that will help you make more sense of it.” I prepared him by telling the story of the night his father forced himself on me but ensure and absolutely emphasized that it was a one-time affair and that he had quit drinking. I went so far as to tell him that if I had to go back and do it again, I would allow the same events to happen because life has been much better since then.

“Oh. I’m glad that went well for you, I guess?” He said sarcastically. I knew he wouldn’t really understand it from my perspective. “What does that have to do with anything today, though?” He asked, clearly not prepared.

“Well, Mark, you came home that night…” I paused. Here we go. “…and you thought I was Kathy.”

His eyes opened wide. I wonder if he realized then was probably transpired, but I can’t imagine he did. So, I took it a step further.

“The reason the story about your father matters here is because I had a decision to make and that decision was whether to let you continue thinking I was Kathy or risk you behave the same way your father did that one day. In the moment, I chose the former.” I stopped there and let him take that little tidbit in for a minute.

I watched him before continuing. “Maybe it wasn’t the greatest decision of my life, but I tried to mitigate it by suggesting I had to go to work and maybe later that evening, after work, we could mess around. We, meaning you and who you perceived to be Kathy.” Again, I paused. “I thought that would be the end of it, but I got a little shock.”

He looked at me confused, so I knew I had to continue. I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I didn’t tell the story exactly as it happened.

“Well, you didn’t get mad so much as a bit upset. You revealed that it’s been something that has been happening to you a lot with her, that she wasn’t interested. The more words you spoke, the more upset you had gotten, and it broke my heart!” I said, welling up a little inside.

“That’s most of the issue.” He offered without question.

“I assumed as much. I know what state you were in, drunk, internet casino unaware and now upset so I changed direction. I told you that I was already dressed for work and that’s why – but…” I paused. This is it, you cannot stop now, I remember thinking to myself. “If you wanted to have sex, I would have to be in control.”

“Tell me we didn’t have sex.” He said with a weird look on his face. He didn’t look mad. Maybe ashamed for putting me in that situation.

“We did but, it was quick and really no harm done. I didn’t have to see you upset anymore and to be honest…” I felt the wine starting to speak a little for me, “…it wasn’t awful. I’m prepared to tell you more if you want to know?” I added, kind of hoping he would ask.

He didn’t say a word. He grabbed his glass, got up and walked to the kitchen. Great, now he’s mad. How can I repair this? I thought about how to go forward from this point when he returned with a full glass. I stared at the contents and the coloring looked right for a properly made drink, so I don’t think he was mad. Maybe he just needed a minute to process this.

“I think we’re kind of passed formalities now. So I need to know a little more. We ACTUALLY had sex? Like… my dick was inside you?” He asked, staring me down.

“Yes.” I said, not backing down from his increasingly aggressive language.

“Ok. That was one night. What about the rest? Were they all you?” He asked. I remember feeling a little confused. What was he thinking? Was he okay with this and just wanted to make sure there were no other women?

“All of them. Including the stripper night. Except that night, while you thought I was a stripper, we did not actually have sex. I straddled you in such a way that I was able to give you a hand job while making you think you were having sex.” I said, still quite proud of my genius move.

“Mom, this is kind of hard to believe. Are you sure you’re not saying this just to make me feel better about my behavior and bad decisions?” He asked, not a clue in his eyes what he was thinking.

“I’m sure.” I said, standing up and walking to him. I stood in front of him and turn the part of my robe with his cum on the inside out, so I could show him the evidence. I hadn’t properly planned this part out because in doing so, he was able to see my panties. At least I decided to put something on underneath.

I sat back down and offered more information.

“Mark, at no point was I attempting to be malicious…”

“No, Mom, I know.” He interrupted, “I cannot even begin to imagine how you felt after I put you in that situation. I can tell you, as you may have realized by now, that I don’t get violent when I drink. It’s just not my style, but I would never expect you to know that.”

“Thank you for understanding, but there’s more. At no time did I ever… uncover for you. You never saw me naked. I saw you, though, since it’s kind of hard to do it otherwise, but I intentionally concealed myself from you just in case you remembered anything.”

Mark sat and thought some more before commenting again. “That was smart because I know it’s sometimes hard to tell. Ok, so, what happens now? I mean, I’m glad I don’t have to get checked out, but this is not something I expected and am not sure how to proceed around you knowing we’ve had sex.”

Shit! I didn’t think about this question. I was going to have to wing it. This is where I probably should have stopped it all. I should have told him that instead of drinking to blackout and worrying the next morning about who he might have slept with, that he tone it down some and focus on work and finding that job he’s been searching for. That’s what I should have done.

“Well, that depends on you.” I stupidly said.

“What do you mean? You’re kind of the victim here, it seems.” He suggested.

I thought again how to proceed and came up with this gem. “If you want more, you can have it. There will be rules, though.”

I could have slapped myself into oblivion for saying that, but a part of me wanted more.

“What kind of rules?” He cautiously asked.

“Well, for one you won’t be seeing me naked. The idea is that instead of fucking some random girl, stripper or whoever, you can seek relief at home. Another is that it ends when you find a girl who will take my place. Also, and it should go without saying, that your father nor your sister will hear of this.” I said, laying down the law. Who was I kidding. I wanted sex tonight and I think he was ready to provide it to me. Some victim I turned out to be. “Agreed?”

“May I touch?” He asked before taking a big gulp of his drink.

I thought for a moment, staring at him. “What do you want to touch?” I asked, trying to gauge where his mind was.

“Well, you said you saw me and the way you described it, you touched me so I think it’s only fair.” He said matter-of-factly.

He was right, I did touch him. More than once. “Outside of whatever clothes I have on.” I stated firmly. “Any move otherwise and it ends.”

He sat and thought for a moment. “What about now?” he asked shyly. I knew he was working towards that end and, to be honest, it was an unwelcomed question. I was going to have some fun with this.