Dinner

Chapter 2

Diana POV

Dinner was quiet. Most of the conversation was between Michael and me, going over our days like two partners trading status reports: his meeting with the new client, my afternoon of budgets and indecisive clients. Valerie, on the other hand, was physically at the table and mentally anywhere else, her eyes glued to her phone with that goofy little smile of someone chatting with her friends. Brian ate in silence, staring at his plate.

I was dying to tell them about the channel. To tell them that my son, the same boy who hid under his comforter until noon, had made something incredible with his own two hands. But Brian hadn't given me permission to say anything, and if Brian didn't give me permission, then I had to keep quiet. So I kept quiet, smiled, and passed the salad.

After dinner I took a long bath, put on my pajamas —the short cotton shorts and the snug top I always wore— and climbed into bed to watch TV. Michael was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth with that meticulousness of his.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a WhatsApp from Brian: a YouTube link and, below it, a short message.

“Here's the video you watched. You can show it to Dad and watch it together.”

A strange tingle crept up the back of my neck. I wanted to watch it again. I didn't quite know why, I couldn't remember what it was about, but the idea of having those colors in front of my eyes again filled me with a sweet, almost urgent anxiety.

—Did you talk to Brian about looking for a job today? —Michael asked from the bathroom, his voice muffled by the toothbrush—. It struck me that you didn't say anything to him at dinner.

I frowned. What a strange question. Brian can't look for a job, he has more important things to do. For example, he has his YouTube channel...

—No —I answered—. But he showed me his YouTube channel.

Michael came out of the bathroom wiping his mouth with a towel, in his underwear. I watched him as he crossed the room. He wasn't in his best shape, his belly was starting to win the battle against his gym routine, but he was still the man I loved.

“Though Brian has a more masculine body. A true MAN's body.”

I blinked, bewildered. What an absurd thought.

—That's not a job, Diana —Michael said, sitting down on his side of the bed—. At best it's a hobby.

—He showed me a video today and it's really good —I insisted, grabbing my phone—. Let's watch it now on the TV. You'll see. You'll realize how good it is.

Michael let out a short, resigned laugh.

—Well, if you say so, it must be great. Come on, I want to see it.

I connected YouTube to the television and hit play. The thumbnail appeared for a second on the huge panel: anime characters cut out against a garish background.

—I doubt I'll understand anything if it's the anime Brian watches —Michael remarked, fluffing his pillow.

At that moment the video started, with colors that began to pulse…

I have to hit “replay.”

That was the thought that woke me, though “woke” wasn't quite the right word. I was extremely tired, my eyelids heavy and my head stuffed with cotton. How long had we been watching? How many times had the video repeated?

—Replay… —someone murmured to my right, in a slow, almost sleepwalking voice.

I turned my head. Michael was sitting beside me, his eyes fixed on the screen and the remote hanging limp in his hand. He was still in his underwear, and he had a very obvious erection straining the fabric.

It struck me as sweet. My husband, after thirty years, could hold an erection. But his cock surely can't compare to my son's. That one is a real cock, a manly cock.

Thinking about it, I felt myself growing wet between my legs. A liquid heat, immediate, that made me squeeze my thighs together. I closed my eyes to savor the sensation, imagining my son's cock, and slowly slid a hand under the waistband of my pajama shorts…

—That video was really good —Michael said—, but I think we should go to sleep.

I jumped. I yanked my hand out as if I'd been caught stealing and turned to him.

—You're right.

I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. Michael turned his back to me and settled in to sleep. I rolled over to the other side, my heart still pounding in my chest, and fell asleep thinking about my son's cock.

The alarm on Michael's phone hit me like a truck. It was far too few hours of sleep for so much exhaustion. I heard him groan as he fumbled at the nightstand to shut it off, and then he rolled toward me.

—How late did we stay up last night?

—Mmm, I don't know —I replied, turning to look at him—. But it was really late.

Michael smiled, his eyes still puffy.

—Your son's video was amazing. I want to watch it again.

—I'll ask Brian to send it to you.

—Tell him I loved it —he said, getting up and heading for the bathroom.

I lay there for a moment staring at the ceiling, shaking off the sleep. Something was bothering me around my legs. I looked down at myself. Why was I wearing these uncomfortable shorts? I took them off without thinking much about it and was left in my thong and the snug pajama top. Like that, barefoot, I decided to head to the kitchen.

I was finishing up breakfast when Michael appeared, already dressed, his tie knotted halfway. He stopped dead when he saw me.

—Diana, what…?

I looked at him, still holding the spatula, and went back to the eggs. There was nothing to explain.

—I have to leave in a rush —he said, pulling himself together and straightening his jacket—. Work is the most important thing, I don't have time for other things.

Disappointment pricked at my stomach. Brian would be man enough to fuck me right here, against the counter. A shame it couldn't happen. We were mother and son, and that was wrong.

Michael grabbed a piece of toast on his way out, kissed me on the cheek, and left. I heard the car's engine fade down the street. I checked the clock. It was time to wake my son.

I opened the door to Brian's room and the scent of MAN that I liked so much washed over me. Warm, dense, unmistakable. At some point, one I couldn't pinpoint, it had stopped bothering me.

Brian stirred under the comforter, turned toward the door, and opened his eyes. Seeing me, he looked surprised.

—Good morning, sleepyhead —I said, stepping closer to give him a pat on the back—. Breakfast is already on the table.

He stayed there, dazed, not knowing where to look. When he finished turning over, I saw he had a huge erection lifting the comforter without any shame.

I smiled.

—Looks like somebody woke up happy.

Brian said nothing. He turned red and swallowed.

—My son is all man —I told him, and I hugged him, burying his face between my tits.

Mmm, it feels so good to have A MAN between my tits, I thought as I held him against me. I felt his hot breath seeping through my top. I counted a few seconds. Then I let him go.

—Get ready, you're going to be late.

I turned toward the door, but Brian grabbed me by the wrist and stopped me.

—Wait. Did you and Dad end up watching my video last night?

—Yes —I answered naturally—. We stayed up really late. Neither of us remembers much about what it was about, but we liked it so much that we watched it a bunch of times.

He looked me in the eyes while I spoke. Then his gaze dropped, slowly, to my ass, which was only a few inches from his face. It came back up.

—I have a new video for you —he said—. To watch later at the office, in your free moments.

I felt a ridiculous, childlike joy. I hopped up and down twice, clapped with my fingertips, and hugged him again, my tits pressed against his face once more.

—I'm so happy with what you're doing, my love. I swear. I'll be waiting for it eagerly.

—I'll send it in a bit.

—Perfect. Now I have to go, it's getting late.

I turned to leave and, just as I took my first step toward the door, Brian's palm cracked across my ass with a hard, loud slap.

I didn't turn around. I kept walking, my skin burning under my thong and a smile I couldn't help. My son was a man who knew what was good.

Valerie's room was still a battlefield. The sound of the shower drifted out from the bathroom. I bent down to pick up a shirt off the floor, then a sports bra, and then a thought stopped me cold: this isn't my responsibility.

I dropped the clothes. I left them where they were and went to my room.

I stood in front of the closet mirror. My body was the same as always, the hips, the waist, the heavy bust beneath the snug top. And I thought, with a painful clarity, about how much I wished there were a man capable of satisfying it. Michael, though I still loved him, wasn't the same anymore. He wasn't young anymore, wasn't virile anymore. Not like Brian.

Thinking about Brian, my hands slid down on their own between my legs. I began to caress myself over my thong, and then under it, my eyes fixed on my own reflection.

I have to get ready for work. I can't neglect my job.

The inner voice sounded firm, almost mechanical. I pulled my hands away. I dressed like I did every day: the brown blouse, one of my camel blazers, the matching skirt. And yet, as I buttoned up, I caught myself thinking that I would love to dress to please a MAN. That I would truly like to put on something that drove him wild.

But I couldn't. Not if it put my job at risk.

When I got back to the kitchen, both of my kids were already eating and, as usual, already arguing.

—Mom —Valerie intercepted me the moment she saw me— can I borrow the car today?

—Today you're going together. Brian drives you there and brings you back.

Brian didn't even look up from his bowl.

—I don't want to sit around waiting. I have things to do.

—What things? —Valerie sneered—. You don't do anything. You probably just want to go home and jerk off to drawn tits.

I felt my blood boil.

—Valerie. Apologize to your brother.

—But…

—Now.

Valerie huffed and muttered a halfhearted “sorry.” I turned to Brian.

—If you have things to do, then it's fine for you to come back early.

Valerie froze, her toast halfway to her mouth.

—What? Then how do I get home?

—A little public transportation won't kill you.

—But I have my swim bag and I get out late! I don't want to take the bus home.

—You should have thought of that before leaving your room a disaster.

Valerie looked from one of us to the other. It was clear she'd understood that this battle was lost, but something lit up in her face, a quick, sharp idea.

—And has Brian even found a job yet?

Brian tensed for a second. Then he looked at me and smiled.

—He found a project that the two of us are working on together —I said, smiling back at my son.

Valerie, resigned, got up from the table.

—I'm leaving. I'll wait for you in the car.

When she was gone, we were alone. The silence in the kitchen seemed to thicken.

—Did you send me the new video yet? —I asked.

—Yeah, I already sent it.

Brian stood up from the table and walked toward the exit. But at the last moment he turned around, came back, grabbed my ass with both hands, and kissed me on the mouth.

I was startled. He felt so sure of himself, so firm. But I didn't push him away. I let him kiss me.

When he left, I stood motionless for a few seconds, my lips still warm.

What a wonderful son I have. He's a real man.

The whistle of the kettle pulled me out of my daze. I blinked, turned off the burner, and remembered that I had to go to work.