One Small Detail

Joey rubbed at his eyes as he stepped out into the hazy morning light. The hallway of Eliza's building had smelled faintly of bleach and old carpet, far from the warm, welcoming feel her apartment had given off. The night had been incredible, but every night comes to an end, and he needed a change of clothes. The last time he borrowed from Eliza he ended up with her ex wanting to kick his ass. Joey would rather grab something from home than risk any more personal injury.

As young as he was, Joey had his stamina tested over the past two days. Sex, he was discovering, was an incredible workout. His legs ached. His lower back felt like it had been in a wrestling match. And yet, though he was exhausted, Joey had never felt more alive than he did that morning.

God, his lips were still swollen. His history teacher, one of the two women he was sure he had fallen in love with, had kissed him as though she needed him to breathe. Everywhere. Again and again. How could a simple thing like a kiss draw him in so fully, so completely? Her eyes had looked at him with adoration and submission. Her body had enticed him since he first saw her, but it was her lips that had captured him.

He smiled sleepily and stretched, wincing at how sore his thighs were. The night before had been a marathon of exploration. And it hadn't just been in the bedroom. No, he and Eliza had made love in the kitchen, against the bathroom sink, on the living room couch, and even once—briefly—on the laundry machine, though that had ended in laughter and a stubbed toe.

He thought of her, kneeling naked on the mattress as he was dressing that morning. He had stared at him, waiting for his instructions. How things had changed so quickly, his stern, driven teacher who used to make him shake in his boots, suddenly utterly and completely submitted to him, eagerly awaiting for direction on how to please him. Joey was no monster. He set her up with a loose set of things to accomplish: get dressed, make food, eat, take care of her hygienic needs. He even provided the clothes she was to wear to the party later that day, a skirt so short he was shocked that his teacher owned it, and a top that would show off her chest shamelessly. Part of him worried about how nonchalantly she received his orders and obeyed them. Part of him also kind of liked it.

When it was time to leave, the sun was already climbing. His mother had texted overnight offering to pick him up, something he accepted when he finally rolled out of bed. He was in rough shape, and walking home from Eliza's place would take forever. Yes, he knew Eliza would drive him, but after their intense and profound night, he wanted to kiss her goodbye and see her again later. Joey wasn't looking, or smelling, his best, and he wanted to keep her opinion of him as high as he could.

Before he could brew a cup of coffee, though, his phone buzzed. It was his mother.

Outside when you're ready, sweetheart! xoxo

And so he'd left. The two kissed at the door. Again her lips drew him in. So tempted was he to follow her back into the bedroom that he started to walk back in before pausing, remembering that his mother was waiting for him outside.

And waiting she was. The silver Audi, his mother's chariot, was parked right out front. The windows were rolled up, his eyes still not fully adjusted to the morning light, preventing him from seeing his mother, but she must have been in there. How else would the car have gotten there.

He reached for the passenger door and slid in, dropping his backpack at his feet.

"Hey," he muttered.

Then he saw her.

"Hi baby!" chirped Donna Granger, his mother—his professional, polished, cold-as-ice mother—wearing what could only be described as... stripper cosplay, a woman with the incredible allure of a mature body, with the style of a young woman in heat. Her hair was in bouncy, flirty pigtails, ribbons tied in bows. Her eyes sparkled with heavy glitter liner, and pink lipstick matched the bubblegum crop top clinging to her chest like a drowning man holding on to a life preserver. The shirt was cropped high, exposing a flat, toned stomach and the unmistakable waistband of low-rise denim shorts so tiny they might legally qualify as underwear.

She was chewing pink gum. He could smell the sugary scent of it.

He couldn’t speak.

"The big party's tonight!" Donna giggled, pulling out of the lot like a girl on her way to prom. "So I figured you and me could, like, go have some fun during the day! The girls are decorating and asked us to stay out. Let's go for brunch."

She turned onto the next street, and Joey's hands tightened around his seatbelt. The Audi smelled like vanilla and cotton candy. A perfume he didn't recognize clung to the seats. Was it hers?

His mother. Donna Granger. The real estate lawyer who used to breeze through courtrooms in pencil skirts and expensive heels. Who wore her hair in flawless buns, spoke like a judge, and scared grown men with her glare.

Now her legs were bare and glossy as she drove in chunky pink platform sandals that showed off glitter-painted toes. He knew his mom was hot, but when did she get so hot?

He struggled to find his voice. "Mom... what are you wearing?"

She looked over at him with a smile that was too bright, too pleased. "Don't you like it? Madison and Aynsley helped me pick it out. And Indira! That girl has such a cute sense of style, don't you think?"

He tried again. "You—uh—you don’t usually dress like this."

She laughed like that was the most adorable thing he could've said. "Well, yeah, but that was before! You don't want me looking like a boring old mom when I'm out with you."

Joey stared out the window, trying to breathe evenly. The seat felt warm, maybe too warm, and he suddenly noticed the soft material of her t-shirt brushing against his arm. She was leaning closer now, peeking at him sideways through thick lashes.

"And maybe," she said, almost like a purr, "we can have some fun after brunch too."

He sat up straight. This was getting out of hand. He knew what she was after, and it was his fault. He'd tried to change things, to fix it, but he'd only made it worse. She was obedient to him in all things except for the things he'd previously changed in her. His mother not only thought he was hot, but she thought her role in his life was built around making sure he was sexually gratified, just like Bianca. With Bianca that was great; a hot waitress willing to do whatever he wanted? Yes, please. But his mother?

Even though she was one of the hottest women he'd ever seen, especially dressed like she was, she was still his mother! There was no way that he'd ever want to be with her.

Right?

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked sweetly, placing a manicured hand on his thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Y-yeah," he said quickly.

He had to think. Had to stay calm. Had to remember what else he’d said to her, and what rules she might be following now. Maybe there was something there that would help him.

"I brought you a change of clothes," she interrupted his thoughts, "I thought maybe you'd want to change after you and Eliza, you know, did it!"

"Thanks, mom," Joey said, recognizing that even though her life had changed thanks to his power, she was still his mom, and she was still taking care of him.

Her hand moved up his thigh a bit.

"Not that I mind if you're a little dirty," she said with a grin, "In fact, I wouldn't mind getting a bit dirty, too."

They passed a coffee shop. A couple of girls were waiting outside, dressed in hoodies and sneakers. Normal. Age-appropriate.

His mom would've looked like one of their classmates if she weren’t driving a ninety-thousand-dollar Audi. A much sluttier classmate, but she would have pulled it off.

The light turned red. She stopped. She looked over at him again.

"Hey, Joey?" she said, tilting her head.

He turned.

"I’m really glad we get this time together," she said. "I've been, like, looking forward to it all week."

Joey's mouth was dry. "Yeah. Me too."

She beamed.

The light turned green. The car moved forward. Her hand moved up again. The music picked up—some sugary synth-pop anthem about kissing boys at the beach. He tried not to listen.

He had a full day ahead of him. They had a full day ahead of them.

He had to keep things from getting out of control.

But he also had to admit, even though the whole situation was screwed up, his mom was hot. And the looks he was getting from the other people driving by were pretty impressive. Of course they were! A young skinny loser like him, obviously getting hit on by a gorgeous woman like his mom? What wasn't impressive about that?

It was just that one detail. One small, tiny, almost insignificant detail. And as her hand slid up, coming to a rest on his crotch, Joey wondered if it would be easier on his mom if he gave in.

Just a little.

Just to make her happy.