Wiley's big reveal

Over the next few weeks, Sarah does make up a lot of things for me, each time was amazing, but the fact that the number of things she owes me constantly grows because Wiley keeps practicing with her is not.

One morning after a practically enjoyable ‘make up’ session of fucking, I heard her phone buzzing again from the kitchen counter. I wandered out, naked except for a towel, and saw her standing by the sink, texting furiously.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked, half-joking.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she handed me her phone, the conversation still on the screen.

Wiley: [fuck I dont know what to do, sara-bear. she says she wants to meet you. can you come over? i think im in over my head.]

Sarah: [I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t think my boyfriend would like it.]

Wiley: [please. shes really serious. she says she won’t do anything else with me unless you’re there.]

I looked up at Sarah. “He wants you to be his… I don’t even know. Wingman? Referee?”

She snorted. “Maybe she just wants to see if I’m real.”

I said, “Who is this girl, anyway?”

Sarah hesitated, tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. He won’t say. He says you know her, but he’s worried you’ll freak out.”

I laughed. “Me? Freak out? That’s basically my hobby at this point. Let’s go.”

We got dressed, neither of us bothering to shower or even wipe away the evidence of the morning. Sarah put on a sundress and no bra, and I wore whatever was on the floor. We walked in silence to Wiley’s new apartment, an anonymous block of beige bricks on the far side of the university district.

Wiley answered the door in a bathrobe, his hair still damp. He was pale and jittery, but beaming like a solar panel pointed directly at the sun. “Hey,” he said, voice cracking. “Thanks for coming.”

Sarah stepped inside past him. I followed, trying to keep a straight face. The place was a mess—pizza boxes, empty cans, the faint but unmistakable smell of latex and burned candles—but that wasn’t what caught my attention.

It was the woman sitting on the couch: strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, a scattering of freckles across her nose. She looked up at me, and the years dropped away like a weighted blanket kicked off in the night.

I stared, unblinking.

Sarah went to sit beside her on the couch, as if this were a normal Sunday brunch. Wiley hovered in the background, nervously smoothing down his robe.

The woman smiled at me, her lips moving in a way that was both familiar and newly strange. She patted the cushion beside her.

“Hey, Liam,” she said. “It’s good to see you again. Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

My mouth went dry. “Mom?” I croaked.

Wiley’s bathrobe sagged open, exposing his pudgy, hairless chest. “She said you’d be mad,” he said, voice very small. “But she really likes me. She says I make her feel young again.”

Of course I be mad, the woman Wiley had been practicing with Sarah for, the woman Wiley said wanted to try all those kinky things with… That very woman is my own mother! That fat smelly pig has not only been fucking my girlfriend but also my own MOTHER!

Sarah squeezed my mom’s hand, the gesture oddly tender. “We’re happy for you,” she said, and for a moment I almost believed it.

My mother turned to Wiley and kissed him on the cheek. “He’s just surprised, that’s all,” she said, her voice sugar and glass. “We can talk about it, as a family.”

****

Note to readers. I hope you enjoy the twist. For the one person that spotted this twist from the hints and messaged me about it... Good job you where right. I know this branches was not for everyone and designer to invoke frustration, so thank you for reading it.