Born to Lead: Field Observations in an Oedipal Zone, Pt. 5 (TS)

Seeking to avoid bias by adding a bit of random chance into my investigations, I set a timer for 15 minutes and began walking through the suburbs. When the alarm rang, I stopped and approached the nearest house.

After a moment’s hesitation, I opened the door (no lock, of course) and stepped inside. “…Hello?”

“I’m in the living room,” the voice replied. “Who’s that?”

Moving further inside, I found the source of the voice: a young man sitting at his computer, working away while an older woman under the desk tended to his cock.

After some brief introductions (the man’s name was Garret, and the beauty sucking him off was his mother Leila), I explained my own identity and the nature of my anthropological mission. Garret wasn’t startled at my intrusion; although the practice of men walking into random houses seeking women to use is less universal in Oedipal Zones, it isn’t unheard of. After all, while firstborn sons are in control of sexual access to their female family members, many give that access away as a matter of routine.

I wasn’t here to fuck Leila, though, so I sat down near Garret and began to ask him some questions. The subject I was interested in that day was “father-son relations.”

Garret had little personal experience with that topic, as his own father had passed away long ago. After a moment’s thought, though, he pulled up a photo album on his laptop.

**

“Here we go. Got a whole spectrum of relationships in here,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over his mother’s slobbering. “Let’s start with my buddy Carl.”

“Carl and his dad get along great. Seriously, they do everything together… Especially Carl’s mom. They’ve got a son, too, and none of them know or care who the father is. They’re all raising him together, just a big ‘ol happy family.”

Garret grinned widely, and his mother mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “aawww.” Then he clicked over to the next photo.

“Okay, so this is Christina blowing her son Mark, just some dude I graduated with. He lost his father too… But only, like, two years ago. Don’t feel too bad though; he hated the old man’s guts. Mark’s dad wasn’t allowed to so much as lay a hand on his own wife, at least not after Mark turned 18 and took control of them. I remember going over to their house once, and the poor guy was just jerkin’ off into a plastic bag in the living room, while Mark railed his mom upstairs. Wouldn’t even let him watch!”

Garret sighed and shrugged. He didn’t look disapproving, exactly; he had more of a “takes all kinds” expression on his face. I half-expected him to say something like “oh, that Mark! What a character!”

“Anyway,” he continued, “the day Mark’s dad passed away was the day he started planning the wedding. Not that many people end up marrying their moms… Can’t when Dad’s still around, and after that most people don’t care. Me and Mom get along fine without tying the knot, right?”

Leila grunted in the affirmative even as Garret pushed her deeper. “…But for Mark, marrying his Mom was the beginning of a new era. In fact, they had a combined wedding/funeral… Little tasteless if you ask me, but to each their own. Let’s see now, who else…”

“Aaah, yes. Bruce, an old coworker of mine. Look at this photo, and tell me: which one’s his mom and which one’s his post-op dad? Betcha ten bucks you can’t guess.”

“I don’t think I could guess,” I said, examining the photo closely. “It’s…”

“…Basically a coin toss at this point,” Garret said with a grin. “He treats them exactly the same, though, so I guess it doesn’t even matter. You should stop by sometime… They do a great double-blowjob.”

After I wrote down Bruce’s address for future research, Garret continued to the final photograph.

“This one’s a classic. Probably the most representative of your average family dynamic here in Bakerton. Mom’s a sexual outlet for Son, and she gets most of her orgasms from him as well. She’s still in a caring relationship with Dad, and he might even get some sugar if Son’s cool with that, but mostly they’re platonic. Dad doesn’t mind too much… He’s resigned to kisses on the cheek and the occasional handjob. I know a dozen dudes who’re in this kind of situation… I’d probably be there too, if Dad were still around.”

At that, Garret grabbed Leila by the back of the head and began thrusting furiously between her lips… “Ungh… But I got you all to myself, right Mom?”

“Mmmph,” she replied, bracing herself against the desk. “Mmgh, gghhgh…”

I glanced at my phone while Garret pumped his load down his mother’s throat. The hour was growing late and my host family had texted to check in on me, so I decided to make my exit.

Garret waved goodbye weakly as he slumped in the afterglow, and Leila gave a polite nod of her cum-splattered chin. With my notebook full and my pants feeling a little tight, I wandered out into the evening.