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Mom-Son Club

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Beth gets an invitation she can't refuse.
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Beth couldn't remember the last time she had seen her son, Marcus, so excited. Or so well dressed. His normal outfit was a pair of old gym shorts and a t-shirt. Today he wore well-pressed chinos and a long-sleeve blue shirt.

Beth was dressed up, too, in a pretty knee-length dress with short sleeves. It was late Sunday morning, and one might have thought she and Marcus were getting ready to go to church. They were due to go out in a few minutes, but not to church.

Beth and her son were going to her first meeting of the MS Club.

It was a mystery to Beth, but it sounded nice. Marcus had made some friends on the Internet, where he spent a ton of his time competing in multiplayer games. They had invited him to join their club, and evidently, the young men's moms were invited to the club meeting, too. Beth was happy. For a long time, it seemed like Marcus had been glued to his computer screen. It was nice to see him meet people and be social.

Beth was pleased for the chance for herself to get out, too. She had been a widow for several years and was often lonely. She could spend a couple days at a time during which her only company was Marcus, who had just graduated from college but still lived with her in her house. It would be pleasant to meet other women her own age.

Beth's husband had died of cancer a few years before, leaving her to care for her only son, Marcus. She had tried dating, a little, since her husband's death, but it had not worked out, and Beth spent most of her nights alone.

"Time to go, Mom!" Marcus said.

"I'm ready," she replied.

Marcus politely let Beth walk ahead of him to the car in the garage. He even opened the door for her, to her surprise. She wondered at his newfound sense of etiquette. It almost seemed rehearsed. She settled into her seat, and Marcus got on the other side behind the driver's wheel. He started the ignition.

"I'm so happy you've made friends. From everything you've told me they sound like nice young men."

"Oh yeah," he said. "They're great guys. You'll like them. And you'll like their moms, too. I've met some of them."

"Well, I look forward to it, too," Beth said, beaming. "A little social intercourse is good for a person."

Marcus laughed for some reason.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Mom!"

After a 15-minute drive, Marcus pulled the car into the driveway of a large Tudor-style house, in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city. Beth was impressed. Her own house, the payments for which she kept up with her income as a nurse, was modest by comparison. Marcus's new friend's parents must have been wealthy.

Marcus rang the doorbell, and moments later he and Beth were greeted by a beautiful, perfectly groomed Latina woman who flashed a pearly-white smile at them. Beth guessed she was about the same age as she was--mid-40s, but she was dressed more glamorously and more provocatively. She wore a tight-fitting blue minidress that showcased her ample cleavage and a long pearl necklace that dipped down into the shadow of her bosom.

"I'm Lorena," she said. "Hi, Marcus. You must be Beth! Come on in."

Inside the house, apparently waiting for them, were sixteen people: eight young men, all of whom appeared to be in their early to mid-20s, and eight women, whose ages appeared to range from the mid-40s to the mid-50s. Beth was surprised at the attractiveness of the club's members, and at the sexiness of the women's attire. She felt dowdy by comparison. It would have been intimidating had not the women been so uniformly friendly to her.

The men mostly milled about the living room, while the women gathered around a large granite-covered island in Lorena's spacious, immaculate kitchen. A basket wrapped in crepe paper stood at one end of the island.

Beth was struck by the welcome she received. The women gave most of their attention to her, or to another woman who introduced herself as Marilyn. Marilyn was dressed the sexiest of all of them, in a very short wraparound skirt and a tight camisole top. She had one hand on the basket. She seemed nervous, as though she were anticipating something.

Lorena ended the milling about by tapping a demitasse spoon on a champagne glass. The young men filtered into the kitchen through two doorways until the entire assembly was gathered loosely around the kitchen island. One of the young men passed out half-filled champagne glasses to everyone present.

"It's time, everyone!" Lorena said. "First, I want everyone to welcome Beth, who is new, and whom we hope to get to know a lot better. Beth and Marcus, we look forward to you joining our club. But that comes later. Today, we turn our attention to Marilyn, and her son Russell. The initiation is today. I have no doubt it will go well, and Marilyn and Russell will become formal members of the MS Club! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" everyone cried in unison.

Initiation? Beth couldn't recall Marcus saying anything about an initiation. She was puzzled. The mystery deepened.

"Time to open the gift basket, Marilyn!"

Marilyn blushed and gently removed the crepe paper. She took a series of items from the basket, and she held each one up to applause and laughter from everyone in the group. Beth saw no rhyme or reason to the gifts, which included, among other things, breath-freshening mints, a spray bottle of stain remover, and knee pads. It was, evidently, a joke that everyone was in on but Beth.

She leaned over to Marcus, who stood next to her and whispered.

"Marcus, what's this about?" she asked.

"It's just an inside joke, Mom," he whispered back. "You'll see later."

Beth followed the events with curiosity. After the gift unwrapping was done, Russell, a skinny lad who looked about Marcus's age, took his mother by the hand and led her out of the room. The other young men, including Marcus, followed them, to another part of the house, while all the other women remained in the kitchen.

Lorena led the remaining women to an adjacent, spacious dining room, on which lay an extravagant spread of cheese, crackers, fruits, pastries, champagne, and bottles and bottles of wine.

Beth wondered where Marilyn and the men had gone, but she had no time to think about it further because the women around her kept her busy with chatting and drinking champagne. They seemed eager to see her get her fill. Soon her head buzzed. She didn't worry about being drunk because Marcus was driving.

"Beth," Lorena spoke up, at last, silencing the others, "I suppose you have some questions. You must be curious about our club."

"Y... yes," Beth stammered, realizing the pleasant buzz from the champagne had spread from her head and induced a slight slur in her words. "I do. But you've been so nice I didn't want to be pushy about asking."

"You don't need to worry about that at all," Lorena said, smiling, and all the other women around her smiled and laughed as well. An elegant, perfectly coiffed woman named Rita put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We've all been here. You get a little nervous about it at first, but we have no doubt you'll fit right in."

Beth was puzzled.

"Beth," Lorena explained, "MS" stands for "Mom-Son." As you can tell, our club is a small group consisting of young men and their mothers. We're highly selective, and very few moms and sons get as far as this initial meeting. So far, all that have attended have ended up joining, I'm pleased to say, and so far, none have regretted it. You have probably noticed that the men are in their 20s, while the women are in their 40s and 50s."

"I noticed that." Beth nodded.

"You may also have found out, in speaking with the women you've met so far, that all of us are either divorced or widowed. There are no married women in this club."

"I did notice that, too."

"Good. There are good reasons for that. We are very discreet about our club, its membership, and its activities. Nosy, jealous husbands would spoil everything and spill the secret."

"Jealous?" Beth asked. "Secret?"

"Yes, Beth," Lorena continued. "Our club is secret. It's important to keep it that way. Many people would not understand. Many would even be scandalized. We don't want to be in the spotlight."

"I don't understand," Beth said.

"I'll explain. You may be surprised, but here goes."

Lorena took a deep breath and sat up straight, looking at Beth intently.

"Beth, all of us, here at the table, are our son's lovers."

Beth was glad she hadn't just sipped her champagne because she would undoubtedly have spit it out. She coughed loudly, her jaw dropped open, and her eyes bugged wildly.

"What?"

"So, I was right," Lorena said. "You didn't know. I know it's a bit of a shock at first. But you heard me correctly. We are the lovers of our sons. That is the purpose of the MS Club. We support romantic and sexual relationships between sons and mothers. In fact, it's a requirement for belonging in the club."

Another woman, Rose, with freckles and long, silver hair, spoke next.

"Do you wonder what Marilyn is doing right now?"

The light began to go off in Beth's head. "You mean--"

"She is having sex with her son Russell, right now, for the very first time, in the big bedroom on the other side of Lorena's house. The other men, including your son Marcus, are with them."

"Wait a minute," said Beth. "Is this some kind of big sex group thing? What have you got my son into?"

Lorena raised her hand.

"No, no, not at all," she said. "It's not like that. They are there to witness the act, and to record it. They have still cameras and videocams."

"Why are they doing that?" asked Beth.

"Amusement, and insurance," said Lorena. "Nobody can be part of the club unless they are fully invested, so to speak. The video recordings and photos are kept here, at my house, in a vault, since I'm the president of the club. We must take certain steps to ensure that all members respect the secrecy of the club."

"You mean, it's blackmail material?" Beth asked.

"We don't think of it that way. I assure you; it's never come close to that. As I said before, we are highly selective, and we are very careful about whom we scout for membership. So far, we've never picked wrong. But it pays to be cautious, so we are."

"So, right now... Marilyn is on the bed, naked, and eight men, including my son Marcus, are watching her and recording her having sex with her son?"

"That's right," Rose said.

"My God, I can't believe this. Is this for real?"

"Yes, Beth," said Lorena. "I assure you it's real."

Beth searched their faces. They all looked like such a nice, respectable group of women, although they were dressed too sexily for a church social, for sure.

"Why? Why do you do this?"

"I know it sounds odd to you, Beth," Lorena said. "But once you get used to it, it's perfect."

"How so?" Beth asked.

"A bunch of reasons. First, our ages. Women reach their sexual peaks much later than men, and they remain at their peak for a longer time. Men peak in their twenties. They're horny, but they're inexperienced. We're perfectly matched. Second, our situations. All of us women are divorced or widowed, and we're horny too. We're not ready to shrivel up and die, sexually. We all have sons--fine, young, vigorous, horny sons--and no husbands to interfere. All of us are, at a minimum, reasonably financially secure, so we can afford to do it this way. We don't need an older man to take care of us. And there's a third reason."

"What's that?" Beth asked.

"It's fun!" Lorena cried, and the other women at the table murmured in agreement. "It is absolutely, mind-blowingly amazing to be fucked by your son, Beth. You're an attractive woman. Marcus is a handsome young man. Haven't you ever had feelings? A tingle here and there? Marcus tells us you have not dated in a couple of years. Surely, all alone in the house with your handsome young son, you must have thoughts once in a while. I can assure you he notices you. Do you ever catch him glancing at you--as a woman, not just as a mom?"

"I don't know...," Beth replied. She couldn't recall seriously entertaining any incestuous thoughts toward her son, but she had noticed, lately, how handsome he had become, and how much he looked like his deceased father. And she had noticed, lately, that Marcus HAD glanced at her at times. Once, too, while removing a half-eaten tuna sandwich from the desk in his room she had noticed the screen open to an erotic story about mother-son incest.

"I don't know what to say," she said. "This is just so strange."

"It seems that way at first," Lorena said. "But the feeling goes away quickly. To us, it seems perfectly natural and normal, and very fulfilling. A sexual relationship between mother and son is the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Before I say anything further, I need to tell you the rules of our club."

"Rules?"

"Yes. Rules. First and foremost, secrecy. Every member of this group, moms and sons included, must pledge never, ever to say anything about the club--not its activities, not even its existence--to anyone who is not a member or prospective member of the club. In fact, before I continue, you must agree right now that you will say nothing of our meeting today, or what you've learned. Do you agree?"

"Yes, yes," said Beth, head still swimming. "I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't want anyone to know I've been here."

"Exactly," said Lorena. "It could be embarrassing just being associated with the club, even to this extent.

"Second, the sons must be at least 21 years old. Third, the mothers and sons, while they belong to the club, cannot have romantic, sexual relationships with others outside the club."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. One, to foster the growth of the relationships and to encourage them to be as good as they can be, and, two, to avoid discovery. We don't want girlfriends and boyfriends snooping into what we do."

"So, is this a permanent arrangement?"

"Not necessarily," Lorena continued. "Not for most. In most cases, either the son or mother eventually meets someone else, lets us know, and they both leave the club. They get on with their lives and close a wonderful family chapter. But there are three members that have continued their relationships, and they may be permanent."

"Who are they?" Beth asked, looking around the table.

"They're not here. They're no longer members. We have another rule that membership in the club ends when the man turns 29. They are free to continue their relationships, and they remain friends with us, but they're no longer formal club members. We think it's better this way. It keeps the blood fresh, and it keeps us on our mission."

"Is this... even legal?" Beth asked.

"Technically, in this state, no," Lorena said. "Rose, who is a lawyer, has discreetly researched that issue. Legally, incest between a mother and son, even consensual incest between adults over the age of 21, is not legal. But nobody has been prosecuted for adult incest within memory, as far as we know. The authorities don't care about what adults do in this state, as long as it's with other adults. And that brings us to the fifth rule, which is that members must be very careful not to get involved in any other illegal activities that could risk exposure. No illegal drugs. No sex in circumstances where one could get busted, like outside in the car. Discretion is our most important rule. Violation of this rule, or any rule, will result in immediate expulsion from the club."

Beth said nothing while trying to absorb it all. She thought about her son in the other room.

"Marcus, he... "

"He knows all about it," Lorena said, nodding. "You're here because he wants you to be here. He wants to join the club with you. He has wanted that for some time."

Lorena's words hit Beth with the force of a hammer. Her son wanted her as a lover! He wanted to have sex with her. He had been talking to her about the club for weeks, so obviously he had wanted her before then, and the club had approved his telling her about it. The process had been set in motion weeks and weeks ago. How long had he been fantasizing about her? How far did it go back? Her mind swam.

It was unbelievable.

But it was undeniable. Marcus wanted his mom. Her. Beth. He wanted... to be inside her, their bodies wrapped together. Beth imagined it--tried to picture the unpicturable. She imagined Marcus's body on top of hers, moving over her and inside her, the swell of him filling her. Her skin flushed. She felt it and saw the color rise on her exposed arm, and she hoped no one else noticed.

It was flattering to think that her young, handsome son found her attractive enough to want to do this. But how could she really, in the end, do it? Would she not be a bad mother? Wouldn't her son rather date girls his own age? She didn't want more children. Eventually, Marcus would want to find a girl and settle down and raise a family. He couldn't do that with his mother.

But it didn't have to be permanent. That's what Lorena had said. They could be lovers for a little while, just long enough to enjoy it, and perhaps to teach Marcus more about women, and then--

Sounds from the other room interrupted her thoughts. Beth heard masculine, excited voices, and the fall of many feet on the floor. Marcus's friends were back. They entered the room, lining up against the dining room wall encircling the table, and they waited until the couple of honor entered: Marilyn and Russell. She wore the same skirt, but it was disheveled, and her bra seemed to have disappeared, because her nipples stood out like hard pebbles under the tight camisole. Her hair was mussed, and her mascara smeared, and she smiled bashfully at everyone around the room. Russell's shirt lay half-untucked from his pants, and an enormous grin spread over his face.

Everyone in the room cheered and clapped. Beth looked for her son, and she saw him standing to the couple's side. He was staring back at Beth, smiling faintly, but obviously wondering what she was thinking.

The party continued for another hour, but the official program was done, and no one said anything further to Beth about the club or its business. They seemed eager to put her at ease, engaging her in pleasant chit-chat and plying her with more food and wine. By the time the party broke up, Beth felt no pain.

Neither she nor Marcus said anything to one another for a while in the car on the way home. Finally, Marcus broke the silence.

"What did you think, Mom?"

"Everyone was very nice."

"I'm glad. But, I mean, what do you think about the club?"

Beth took a long time answering.

"Is this really what you want?"

"Yeah, Mom, it is. I want this, Mom."

"Why?"

"Because I think it would be great. You're single. I'm single. We live in the same house, for now, at least, until I get a job somewhere else and have to move, if that happens. You're pretty. No, Mom, you're beautiful. You know I think so."

"Well, no, I didn't know that, but it's nice to hear. Thank you. I don't feel beautiful. I feel more invisible than beautiful. You get to a certain age, and you start to feel that way. Like nobody notices you anymore."

"I notice. Listen," said Marcus. "You don't have to say anything or decide anything right now. I've talked to the guys about this a lot, and everybody goes through these feelings. Your son... weird, right? It was weird for me, too. But I had a lot of time to talk it over with the guys, and with some of the moms. So, I've figured it out. Yeah, I want to do it. But don't decide yet. Think about it. We can talk about it."

"Oh, you've given me a lot to think about. No doubt about that. I'm still in shock. Marcus, I must ask you... the initiation... all those guys watching... does that turn you on? Me... around other guys?"

"If you mean sharing, no. That's not what I'm into. I want you... for myself. But the initiation is part of the deal. And honestly, yeah, it kind of turns me on to think of them seeing you, even if they can't touch you. You're hot, Mom. You are, even if you don't think of it that way. I think of you as a butterfly that needs to come out of her cocoon. I like the idea of others seeing you that way."



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