Guilt her

WEDNESDAY

(DAVID'S MOM'S POV)

Cynthia had just finished getting ready for work, when she heard the tell tale sound. It was the sound that had haunted her since her first day as a young mother, the sound she'd been **** to endure alone after her husband ditched her for a bitch with no stretch marks. It was the sound of her son, crying.

She groaned and marched up the stairs. If the little prick thought he could weasel out of his punishment, after what he'd said last night, after he'd acted like she was his fucking chauffer, well, he had another thing coming.

She threw open the door to his room. Despite his protestations, she refused to knock before entering. It was her house after all, the house she had paid so much. And she didn't like the idea of what David might get up to in here if he didn't have to worry about her walking in on him.

She found her son sitting on the bed, holding a pile of homework and wiping his eyes. It was a pathetic enough sight that she dropped her angry expression. But she kept her guard up all the same. He was up to something, that was for sure.

"David, what's going on?" She said, hoping he would get the hint from her impatient tone, that she had to leave for work soon.

"I'm sorry mom..." He said, wiping his eyes with his hand. "I didn't mean to wake you up or anything..."

"I was already awake, David! Just tell me what's wrong." Cynthia shifted in the doorway. She didn't like this, she had never liked this. She had worked hard, so that she could afford to pay babysitters and child therapists to deal with...this...so that she didn't have to.

"The reason I asked for the keys...it's because I'm failing Math, mom." He said, looking up at the ceiling with red rimmed eyes.

"What? I-I don't understand...how could this happen!?" David had always done well academically. It was one of his few redeeming qualities, in her estimation.

"Mrs. Browning agreed to Tutor me...but I didn't want her to come here because I was afraid you'd find out. That's the reason I've been late coming back from school...she's been helping me after class."

"But...why are you failing, David? You-you've never had trouble before?" She thought she saw a bit of resentment in her son's expression, as he glanced at her, and realized that probably wasn't the right thing to say. She couldn't help it though. She couldn't stop thinking about what the other moms would say, if her eighteen year old son had to re-take his senior year. And after all her boasting about how capable and well adjusted he was.

"Mom...I got involved with a girl...I...I thought I loved her. But she broke it off...and for the past few weeks...I just didn't have the energy for school."

Well, that certainly explained some things. At least the boy was finally pursuing someone his own age, even if it had ended in heartbreak.

"Oh, honey..." She sat down on the bed and put an awkward hand on his back. "Look, I...I'm sorry I got so angry at you."

"I don't want to disappoint you mom...I just didn't now what to do."

Cynthia felt like a weight was taken off her shoulders. So the secrecy had just been a phase. That was good. And this whole break up thing could be worked to her advantage. Maybe he'd let her introduce her to some respectable girl and together they could get him back on the straight and narrow. Maybe her reputation around town wouldn't have to end up in the dumpster.

"You don't need to worry about disappointing me, David." She said, forcing a smile. "How about I talk to Mrs. Browning about you being tutored?"

He looked alarmed for a moment. "Juh-just as long as you aren't going to tell anyone else, right?"

She frowned. "No, of course not. That...that wouldn't be good for anyone."

***

Claire Browning lay in bed, trying to adjust her legs, to give herself some relief. She'd had another night of terrifying and sensual dreams, all of them revolving around one of her students.

She had never thought of him like this, not before yesterday night, when the dreams had started. Then she kept...noticing him, in the middle of class, and being rewarded with a little...tingle, down there. It would have been awful, if she'd been **** to live with that strange, overpowering attraction.

But to have him find out? To have a boy twenty years her junior...touch her...like he had? Make her promise to submit to him in the future? It wasn't right...it wasn't wholesome or normal or...or...

She rubbed her legs together again. She couldn't resist. She had to go to work today, she had to see him, to see if he would...do it again. Give her the punishment she needed so badly.

A few minutes later, she had quickly assembled her outfit and slipped it on, hoping, someplace deep and shameful inside, that he would like it. She hurried into the kitchen for a quick bite and her husband, Tom, who had been eating cereal and reading the cartoons, nearly spat out all his milk.

"Darling...what are you wearing?" He said, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly agog. There was surprise in his eyes and...something else. Arousal, maybe? Oh, she wished she had dressed up like this for his benefit, she wished it was him who had set her aflame like this.

"It's ummm...I just thought I would try something new?" She said, with a weak smile. She hated this conversation. Her own husband thought she looked slutty. What would her students think?

What would David think?

She felt another shiver and hoped that he might punish her for her unprofessionalism.

"You aren't wearing that to work, are you?" Tom seemed almost as mortified as she felt, but again, she sensed intrigue in his voice. She knew she had always been a disappointment to him, in the bedroom. For all her gorgeous looks, she'd never been comfortable about her...abilities.

Now, she swayed up to him and knelt in front of his stool. "Of course not honey...I just wanted to look nice for you...while I got my morning snack."

Her husband watched, in astonishment, as his beautiful but mostly conservative wife, unzipped his pants and began to lick her sultry lips.