The Spirit is Willing, The Flesh is Tired

Joey Granger, former shy, nerdy wallflower, lay naked in the centre of his parents' bed, a tangled mess of sheets, limbs, and breath. Madison Ashford, valedictorian, queen of the school turned girlfriend, was curled against his side, her thigh slung over his, her cheek warm on his chest. The air still smelled like sex—sweet, heavy, and a little dizzying.

Somewhere near his foot, Aynsley Cho's fingers traced slow circles on his leg. He couldn't tell if it was comforting or arousing. Maybe both. Either way, his body didn't seem capable of rising to the occasion again—not yet.

His mind floated like it was drifting in warm water. It had only been a few hours since his mother in the hotel, and now Madison. While he was fully cognizant of how he had gotten into this position, he marveled at the speed his world had changed. Sure, he had no idea where his ability had come from, but it was potent, it was powerful, and it was permanent. His heart thudded in his chest, not from lust, but from the overwhelming nature of it all.

He was just eighteen.

There were five beautiful women in the room with him, all in love with him, all wanting to please him in any way he wanted.

And he was struggling to stay awake.

Joey had, as had most young men his age, engaged with pornography enough to understand what kind of fantasy world he had fallen into. He knew that his role in the drama was to rise to the occasion, become supernaturally virile, and show these women what kind of man he was. The women would swoon, taking turns, piling on, each finding a distinct and exciting way to please him. All the while, Joey would be rock hard throughout, as if he had no other natural state than erect.

Yawning, he closed his eyes. Just for a second.

A soft kiss landed on his neck. Madison.

He felt her hand drift across his chest, fingers light as a breeze, nails scratching ever so gently. "Don't you fall asleep on me now, mister," she whispered, her breath tickling his skin. "You've got a party going on downstairs, and a party going on in here. This is no time for a nap."

Joey groaned softly, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "I might need a timeout," he murmured. "I'm not sure I can... you know..."

There was a shared, disappointed chorus.

"Awww..."

"No fair!"

"Come on, Joey."

"What if we all tried?"

Aynsley crawled forward, slipping up beside him. She leaned over him, her hair brushing his face as she kissed him—long, slow, and deep. Someone else, perhaps Bianca, climbed onto the bed between his legs and began to run her fingers up toward his groin.

Joey wanted nothing more than to give in, to give these girls what they wanted, but he just couldn't. It was too soon, too fast, too much. His brain knew that he was more aroused than he'd ever been in his life, but his cock hadn't gotten the memo.

Aynsley pulled back, her slightly swollen lips parting as she looked down at Joey's crotch, then back at his face, a slight pout in her expression.

"Fine. When you're ready, I call dibs," she said.

Joey blinked up at her, dazed and flattered and very, very tired.

Then he heard a chime.

He turned his head just in time to see his mother lowering her phone, her face lit up with the kind of grin he had never seen on her face before—gleeful, conspiratorial, a little unhinged.

"Joey," she said, "husband, I have a present for you downstairs."

A present? Curiosity about her "present" had started to shake the cobwebs from his mind, bringing Joey back to the present.

He watched from the bed as she tapped another message into her phone, lightning fast, then set it aside and stood up. She didn't sashay—this was his mother, she stalked. Purposeful. Triumphant. She made her way around the bed, then crouched beside it and picked up Joey's clothes from where they had been tossed in a rush.

She held them out to him like an offering, her eyes gleaming.

Joey sat up slowly, still swimming in that post-orgasm haze. He took the clothes, blinking at her. It was such a simple gesture—his mother handing him his pants—but it felt so surreal. Not long ago, she'd screamed at him for leaving socks on the stairs. Now she was kneeling beside his bed after she'd just watched him have sex with his high school girlfriend, smiling like the world's proudest matchmaker.

Still dazed, he got dressed. Briefs, jeans, shirt—though Madison helped with the buttons, all slow and dreamy, pressing a kiss to his lips when she was done.

He moved around the room, kissing each woman briefly. A brush of lips with Eliza, who smiled warmly. A smirking peck from Aynsley, who looked very much like she expected to be naked in ten minutes. A sultry kiss from Bianca. Then finally Madison again, who held him close for a heartbeat longer than the rest.

As he reached the door, he turned back, raking a hand through his hair. "Any hints?"

Donna was already waiting at the hallway.

"You'll see," she said. "In the kitchen."

Her grin widened. They looked on with curious expressions. Whatever it was, it was his mother's private doing.

Joey swallowed hard.

And headed downstairs.