Tell her about lastnight

“hey, mom,” you reply. “work is going ok, but I'm concerned about something. do you think we can talk about something, later?”

“of course, Vasha! we can talk about anything. is it about the move?” she asks.

“no... not really. it's hard to explain. I'll wait until we can call after work, ok?”

“sure thing!”

Work is progressing slowly, but you are determined to get through it. You are so distracted that guests have to repeat orders to you multiple times. Your boss is approaching you, “Everything ok, Vasha?”

“No, not really. I'm sorry, boss. My head isn't really here today,” you answer.

“Well, it's not going to do anyone any good if you're in a bad state like this. Why don't you go home early tonight?” he suggests.

“Honestly, that's probably a good idea. I'll be better prepared tomorrow. Sorry again,” you say, hanging up your apron.

As you head home, you are still perplexed at how you are going to bring this up to your mom without making her uncomfortable. The two of you often make dirty jokes and half-flirts with each other, but you never really thought anything of it before lastnight—that is just how both of you were—dirty-minded. This is different, though. She is your mother, after all.

You are so nervous, your hands are shaking as you sit at your computer. You open up your messages and start typing to your mother, “hey, mom. I'm home early. call?”

Within five minutes you get a response, “yes, please!”

She picks up the call immediately, “Hey, sweetie. How are you? How was work?”

“Work was awful, actually. I was too distracted, so my boss sent me home.”

“What's wrong?”

“Well, something happened lastnight,” you hesitate to continue.

“Are you ok?” she says in a worried tone.

“Yeah—I think so. Actually, I don't know,” you say frankly.

“Did something bad happen? If you need a minute to talk about it, I understand,” she says comfortingly.

“It's—it's just complicated. I don't want you to think I'm a horrible person, but I think I am, now, honestly.”

“Honey, I don't think you're horrible. Surely it couldn't've been that bad?”

You think to yourself, “She is always so damn nice. She has no idea what I did, and yet she still thinks so highly of me. How naive.”

“Like I said, it's complicated,” you continue. “As any normal man would do, I watched some porn lastnight.”

“Ok... that's not a bad thing,” she responds.

“It's not that I watched porn; it's what I watched that's so horrible.”

“Try me. I doubt it's as bad as you say,” she retorts.

You pause. You get up and walk away from the computer. You pace a bit, then fall to the floor and do some push-ups to release some energy.

“Ok, I'm back...” you say. You are not shaking as much, but there is still a slight tremble. “Ok, so I clicked on a vid' that looked interesting, and it started off with a woman masturbating.”

“Ok.”

“Well, after a few minutes, a guy walked in and started spying on her,” you cautiously continue.

“Oh, so like voyeur stuff?”

“Kind of—it gets worse, mom...”

“Oh?”

“Yeah...” you take a deep breath and run your fingers through your hair as you confess, “it was her step-son...”

You panic as your mother delays her response, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything...”

“No, sweetie. You're fine. It's just—that's not that bad. I've watched far worse. You would probably think that I'm the horrible one, if you think that's bad.”

“Really..? But—isn't it weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“Because you're my mom, and not by birth.”

“No, honey... it's... not weird. It's not like you have feelings for me, anyway,” she giggles.

“True... I mean... well, we've flirted before, though.”

“We have, but you were joking, right?”

You ponder for a bit. Actually, your mother is beautiful for her age. She may be twenty years your senior, but she is curvy, tattooed, pierced, and loves metal music as much as you do. She is even a gamer! She is compassionate, supportive... What is there not to love, actually? It is something you never thought of before now.

“I was--” you pause, “but, honestly, you have a lot of qualities that I would enjoy in a partner.”

“Oh... really?”

You both grow silent.