Bad Moms

It came as little surprise to Heather and Madison that the bar was rather empty in the middle of the day. Though it wasn’t quite a dive, like most bars its busiest time was later in the evening, though McGinn’s Tavern had a rather particular clientele. The average age would drop sharply as teenagers tried out their fake I.D.s, a deception that worked fairly often since Walter McGinn was known not to look too closely at their makeshift identification. Though he never served anyone extravagantly young, he was of a generation that seen little harm in letting kids get their first taste of the drink early.

Though the bar wasn’t dead empty. There were two men, businessmen perhaps, having a hushed discussion in one of the booths. At end of the bar, a man rested on his stool, draped over face down, an empty class beside him and a smell that suggested he hadn’t left that spot in several hours. On the opposite end, a mature, dark haired woman was being chatted up by a man, whose back was to the teens. Aside from the patrons, the only other person there was the bartender, a scarlet haired woman in her mid-twenties and sporting a few piercings on her face alone.

“I don’t see him,” Madison said as she cast an eye around the room. The men at the table saw her searching looks and huddled closer and whispered even quieter. “Victoria left before us, so she’d probably be here already if she was coming here, but perhaps we should wait a while, in case they return.”

“Seems unlikely. If they really did meet here, I can’t imagine Shawn wouldn’t take her somewhere harder to find. Still, I think waiting is a good idea. We came straight here, but Victoria might have gotten side-tracked or went somewhere else first and then arranged to meet here,” Heather reasoned. “I don’t think we’d be doing our job properly if we just poked our heads in and left.”

“Okay.” Madison glanced at the other customers again, trying not to appear nosy, but noticing that they all either had a drink in their hand or on the table before them. “Guess we should order something, or else it might be suspicious.”

“And I’d like to have a chat with the bartender anyway, see if she’s seen anything,” Heather agreed, already taking steps towards the bar.

With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, the bartender asked, “Hi, what can get ya?”

“Is Walter around?” Heather queried as she tried to glance through a half open door behind the bar into a back room. Unfortunately, the angle meant she couldn’t see a thing.

The young woman quickly became attentive, her eyes brightening. Raising an eyebrow as she took the pair in for a second time, she scrutinized them closer now. Still they seemed normal enough, or as normal as two teenage girls in a bar in the middle of the day could be. Usually, her boss took a rather lax view to carding his customers, so it wasn’t entirely abnormal to get a few younger patrons, but they would quickly buy their drinks and rush off to a table. The fact that these two girls asked for anything other than liquor piqued her interest.

“He is,” she answered cautiously. “But he’s doing inventory for an order that came in this morning. Can I help you?”

“Maybe.” Heather frowned as she considered the offer, wondering how much to tell her. She trusted Walter, but she didn’t know this girl. “I’m looking for someone who came in recently, say in the past hour or so.”

“Then I’m the one you need to talk to. Walter has been out back for the last few hours, so if your friend came in, I would have served them.” She straightened up and folded her arms. “If it’s a regular I might even know their name…provided you have a good enough reason for me to tell you.”

“Alright, that’s fair. It’s Shawn Lewis,” Heather revealed, as her eyes shifted around the room, imagining him appearing out of some dark corner. “Shaved head, shit-eating grin, probably tried to tell you that your role was on your knees., ring a bell? Someone close to him told us he liked this place.”

Under her breath, she replied, “it does seem to attract them,” and then, louder, “But Shawn hasn’t been in at all today. I would have seen him.”

“You’re sure?” Heather ordered. “Like, 100 percent sure?”

“Positive. I haven’t been in this job long, only about six months, but I remember earlier this week, a young man like you described came into the bar. He talked with Walter for a bit. They seemed pally but I had never seen him before, so I asked Walter. Apparently, that guy did use to be a regular here, before he moved away and when he came in a few days ago, that was the first time he’d been back,” she explained matter of factly. “So, if he’d been in again, I’d definitely have recognized him.”

“So, he probably hasn’t been here.” Heather sighed. “At least we can strike this place off the list, but hopefully some of the others have found him.”

“Is he missing or something?” the bartender’s voice was tinged with concern as she tried to understand exactly what they were talking about. “You’re welcome to hang around for a bit if you think he might show up.”

“What about a blonde girl? Tall, about our age, very pretty,” Madison suggested. “See anyone like that?”

“No, but then I usually prefer my girl’s hair a little darker,” the woman behind the bar teased, making Madison blush, before continuing. “But, no, you two are the only teenagers who have been in here today.”

“Good to know. We’ll hang around for a bit then,” Heather replied, resigning herself to another probable long wait. “Guess we should order something then?”

“Yeah. Old Walter won’t care that you’re underage, but he won’t like it if he comes out and sees you without drinks.” Her eyes followed the man behind them, having struck out with the woman at the other end of the bar. Passing by the bar completely though, he joined the couple of men at the table.

“Merlot for me,” Heather ordered simply, knowing what she liked, and what she wanted.

Madison had none of Heather’s certitude. “I usually drink cocktails, but that’s because that’s what Ashley likes. Actually, I prefer something like a Smirnoff Ice,” she thought aloud. “Brandon always makes fun of me for drinking those though, says I should just drink beer like him.”

“If you don’t make up your mind, I’ll start making fun of you too,” Heather quipped, as she glanced around the room impatiently. Without the man in the way, she could see the face of the woman at the other end of the bar. “Mrs. Bishop?!”

At the call of her name, the full bodied, dark haired mother of Zack Bishop, looked up from the glass of wine she had been nursing. Her ice blue eyes sparkled wetly, lined red and puffy from the tears she’d so obviously cried recently. Seeing Heather made her panic, memories of this morning flooding her brain, not that she’d ever forgotten, and she immediately looked to the young Ravers heiress’ partner, fearing that it was Zack. She said a small prayer of thanks in her mind as she downed the last of her glass and signaled for another.

“How many have you had?” Heather asked, taking several steps closer and resting her hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Dunno.” Monica shrugged. “Still thinking about it, so not enough.”

She elaborated no further on ‘it’, but Heather knew enough from simply finding the other woman’s handbag outside the office this morning to infer what 'it' was that Zack’s mother was trying to forget. The problem was that Heather didn’t know if she was trying to forget because the idea of her son wanting to fuck her was horrifying, or if she was aggrieved because she actually reciprocated the feelings.

“How much exactly did you overhear this morning?”

“Enough. Too much. Wish I hadn’t heard it at all. Keep hearing it over and over in my head now,” she said, taking the new glass the waitress handed her. “How’d you know what I was talking about?”

Smiling appreciatively, Heather took her own wine when it was offered to her, and turned back to Monica Bishop, as she explained, “I found your bag outside and recognized it. I left it there, figuring that you’d go back for it.”

“How can I go back for it? How can I look my own son in the eye after what I almost did?” Monica downed her drink again. “It took all my will power not to go in then and there. Like a stupid, infatuated schoolgirl, unable to control her hormones. What kind of mother would I be if I destroyed his relationship with Lisa, all for my own…my own…”

The word ‘pleasure’ hung on her tongue as much as in the air, as if simply saying the word would give it power and, by not saying it, she might convince herself that the sex would have been terrible anyway. Yet it did little to deter the desires raging inside her hot body. But Heather could sense the meaning, even if Monica couldn’t say it.

“You should really talk to Zack. You know he wouldn’t blame you for having your own wants. Needs even,” Heather insisted, comfortingly rubbing Monica’s shoulder.

Pushing Monica to fuck her son, despite their reservations and objections, just to further her own cause, did make her feel a little dirty, but when she thought of her belly, swollen with child, the full blood of her father running through it, she resolved to see her plan through. And she was sure it would succeed, if she could just get them in the same room.

“But it doesn’t have to be him. It’s wrong. It’s not right. I’m supposed to be the responsible one.” Remembering, Monica turned suddenly to Heather. “How did you do it?”

“You overheard that too, huh?” Heather chuckled sheepishly while her cheeks reddened. “Well, it wasn’t about right or wrong. Maybe it was for my dad, a little. But he was just trying to deny his true feelings, just like you are now too, because we both know…” she dropped her voice to the barest of whispers. “…you desperately want to fuck your own son.”

“No, I can’t.”

“See? Notice you said can’t, not that you don’t want to.” Heather smiled and sipped at her wine. “And I guarantee that if you went to the office right now and talked to Zack, you’d see that he wouldn’t be appalled or upset. He’d want to show you just how much he loves you back.”

“You don’t think he’d reject me?” The dejected mother stared into her empty glass, seeing her own hollowness in it. “I was so self-absorbed about my own feelings, I forgot to give him the paternity results.”

“You know Zack better than I do, and even I’m sure that he wouldn’t hold that against you, especially after you explain why.”

Monica said nothing for a moment, finally coming around to the notion that giving into her incestuous desires wouldn’t be the monumentally bad idea she kept imagining it would be. Heather was correct on almost every point, but a niggling whisper in the back of her head reminded her that the young Ravers’ motives were not entirely pure.

“I think you forgot, I heard why you want this,” Monica noted. “You’re using me so that he’ll fuck you. I won’t do anything Zack doesn’t want to do.”

Smirking, Heather didn’t deny it, but added, “Only because I know it’s what Zack really wants. I know Zack is a good guy, so I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. He’s really stepped up for me lately, and honestly, I was really coming around to the idea of him as my brother. My dad works a lot, and my mum was always nagging, so since I was little it’s always been me against the world, but it was nice to have someone who was in my corner for once. Now, I’m just trying to repay the favor.”

“But Lisa…” Monica began.

“I don’t have any bad will against Lisa. Zack really does like her. But I’m a firm believer in people having many loves in their lifetimes. First loves; strong, lasting loves and powerful, passionate loves that are just meant to be experienced and lived during brief windows of our lives. Lisa is probably a lasting love, but I think he deserves the experience of your love as well, don’t you?”

Heather let her hand slide from Monica shoulder, her fingers guiding down her back, barely touching but just enough to make the older woman shiver. The way her body leaned over the bar, feet up on the rest, ass pushed out so it protruded over edge of the seat showed off every curve of her delectable, MILF figure. It was little wonder that she had men trying their luck at the bar, or that Zack had come to see his mother as the hot, fuckable, natural beauty that she was. Heather only hoped that, twenty years down the line, she would be just as irresistible to the men around her.

“Maybe…if it was just the once…that might be okay,” Monica breathed out, warring with herself over her body’s need to be ravaged and the mental blocks that had built up inside of her by society. “No, no, I can’t. I can’t do that to him. I already cheated on my husband. If I cause him to cheat as well…no, I won’t let him see me for the importunate slut that I am. I can’t risk losing him along with everything else.”

“You keep talking about this like it’s just your decision to make,” Heather mused, remembering a similar conversation she’d had with her own father just that morning. “You know your husband came to Manor this morning, shouting about how Zack would always be his son, and that he shouldn’t be working at our company.”

“Greg? Gregory said that?”

Nodding, the teen continued, “Yep. My dad said we should respect his wishes, but I’m going to tell you the same thing that I told him. This is Zack’s choice and Zack’s decision. It should be up to him.”

“I overhead him at the office,” Monica said, dispirited rather than encouraged by Heather’s pep talk. “He made it quite clear what he wants.”

“To me. All I’m saying is that it might be a different story if you were the one on the other side of that conversation.”

There was certainly some truth to what Heather was saying. Or perhaps it just seemed that way to Monica’s **** addled mind. She could see the logic in looking at the variables. And wasn’t she taking her son’s agency away by making her own mind up? Being a good parent meant raising your children to the point where they were independent and strong-willed enough to make their own decisions. She’d already been a bad wife; she didn’t want to be a bad mother too. She rationalized it, telling herself what she needed to hear, and calming the war between body and mind.

“Thank you, Heather. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Here, let me get this,” Monica tossed out enough money to pay for Heather’s drinks along with her own as he rose up from the stool onto shaky legs. “Maybe I will go see Zack. Just as a mother though. In the wake of the paternity leak, that’s what he’ll need; the comfort of a mother.”

A mother was exactly what Zack wanted Monica to be, Heather thought, knowing well enough from her own experiences that didn’t preclude him from fucking her. Though she didn’t actually say anything as she watched the older woman walk away, not willing to jinx dominoes she’d set up. Now it was simply up to Zack and Monica to make them fall.

Returning to Madison, Heather found her friend still chatting with the bartender, and still without a drink. “Have you still not decided?”

“Oh, I realized I’m driving, so I chose nothing,” Madison explained.

“So, responsible this one,” the bartender teased her again, causing more redness in Madison’s cheeks.

“Mmm, you have no idea how wild she can get,” Heather joined the playful banter. “Has she told you about her experiences camping recently?”

“OKAY, doesn’t look like anyone’s showing, so guess we should go,” Madison quickly changed the subject from her incestuous adventures, leaping to her feet and grabbing Heather’s arm as she dragged the laughing dark-haired teen from the building. As they passed through the door, the embarrassed twin called back, “it was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” she said, the fun over as she returned to the monotonous mid-day lull. “Hope you find your friends.”