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Home from college for Thanksgiving, Derek and his mother walking in on his father and girlfriend having sex is just the first in a series of discoveries, as he and Mom get even.
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Mom and I Get Even
Mom and I
By M.R. Leenysman
Copyright 2018, M.R. Leenysman
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The summer before my Senior year of college near Baltimore, I was working an internship near my home in Newport News. I met Angie McDougall there. She was attending the same local university that my brother Tommy had just graduated. She’d met Tommy a few times, but they weren’t more than acquaintances, being both different years and different colleges within the university. It still created a connection between us that led me to ask her out.
I would be a fool not to be aware that Angie resembled a younger version of my mom. A lot. I have a definite type, attracted to women with blond hair and the right amount of curves, that describes my mom completely. Angie was hardly the first girlfriend who fit that type, either.
It took Angie very little time to call me out on it, once she had met my parents, Stan and Marcy Rosetti, and had a chance to review my Facebook profile to see pictures of my past girlfriends. She said, “Damn, Derek. Are you consciously seeking out girls who look just like your mom?”
“I think I inherited my Dad’s preferences,” I said, defensively. I would say anything but admit to secretly fantasizing about sex with my own Mom. Sure, she was a classic MILF, but I wasn’t supposed to be the “I” in that acronym.
Angie had wavier hair and hazel eyes where Mom’s were brown. At 5’5”, she was about an inch taller than Mom, about ten pounds slimmer, with C-cup boobs instead of Mom’s Ds and narrower at waist and hips. I could imagine that a pregnancy or two would have Angie looking even more like Mom. Not that I wanted that or anything, right?
We dated that whole summer, falling fast for each other. We had sex whenever and wherever we could, which wasn’t always that easy, since we both still lived in our childhood homes in neighboring towns. Angie’s father had died five years earlier and it was just her Mom and her at home. Angie did have an older sister Pat with an apartment in her town who sometimes let us use it, but not that frequently.
By the end of the summer, I was deeply in love and Angie said the same. As our return to school approached, Angie and I agreed to an open relationship, so that neither of us had to be celibate on campus. We would see each other whenever we were home, but would not commit to anything more permanent until after we graduated. I was already saving up for an engagement ring, though.
I cultivated a fuck buddy on campus, a green-eyed blond, an even closer match to Mom’s physique, even at 21. Alissa Gould planned to join the Peace Corps after graduation, so wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. But she didn’t want a series of one-night-stands with different guys, either. We occasionally scratched each other’s itch and were fine with that.
A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, Angie let me know that the guy she’d been occasionally dating on campus had pushed for more of a commitment from her, which she refused to make, so he broke things off. I expected she’d be extra horny when we saw each other. I didn’t hook up with Alissa the weekend before Thanksgiving, either, as I had some papers due before the break.
Meanwhile, I was getting hints from my parents that not all was well at home, now that they were finally empty nesters. As I mentioned, my older brother Tommy had attended a local college, living at home. He graduated the previous spring, then took a job in Chicago. He wasn’t coming back to Newport News until Christmas, putting extra pressure on me at Thanksgiving to try and glue our parents back together.
I wasn’t sure what I could do to help their marriage. I certainly didn’t expect what actually happened.
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I drove home. I saw Mom’s car pull into the driveway next to Dad’s just before I got there and parked at the curb. Mom noticed me pull up and ran over to the car. “Derek! You’re early,” she said once I’d opened my door, to hug her tight.
“My professor canceled my last class, so I got an early start,” I explained, pulling my backpack and a duffel bag full of dirty clothes from the back seat.
Mom said, “I was able to leave work early, too, thinking I’d get home before you. At least I’m here. Your Dad is working from home this week, since there aren’t any classes scheduled.” Dad worked as an IT trainer, usually teaching classes on a weekly basis. The holiday meant no class this week.
We walked up to the front door and Mom unlocked it. It took only a moment after entering to see the clothes strewn over the living room floor and hear moans coming from the master bedroom next to it.
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