His mother’s hand writing returned to its normal style. She was angry, livid when she wrote that about Danielle.
A new tidal wave of guilt washed over Curt once more. Any blood in his penis, any sexual arousal he had from reading of his mother’s sexcapades, died down. He wasn’t horny anymore. He didn’t want to read anymore. He put the diary back and went to bed, lying wide awake for hours.
*
Curt continued watching his mother, not have sex, but simply watching her. He watched her cook dinner for him, do his laundry, all while hating himself. She seemed different too, sad almost. He wondered what she was writing about.
Miranda still went out on weekends, inviting Curt to hang out with her a few times. He always declined.
Her son went a few weeks once more, without invading her privacy, but like an addiction, he gave in.
Curt was surprised to see his mother hardly wrote in her diary at all. The weekend after Valentine’s Day – a day his mother asked him to dinner, his shame causing him to say no, Miranda was out again. Curt flipped through her diary, only seeing a few new entries.
“Last weekend was Valentine’s Day. I was hoping to take Curt out to dinner, but I guess he didn’t want to hang out with his mom.
Danielle called me. She snuck out of her house after dinner with her husband. They had sex, he went to sleep, and she headed to one of her safe houses – Aline’s or Melissa’s. I should’ve said no. I should’ve hung up on her, but I didn’t.
Maybe I’m an addict. I can’t get enough of TJ. I can’t get enough of all the black men Danielle brings me. I love black dick.
We were at a club, after midnight, on Valentine’s Day.
I stared right into Danielle’s face, out in the middle of the dance floor while a black man fucked her from behind. Then another, then another, and another. This married woman was holding her dress up, exposing her ass, letting these men take her from behind – one after another all night.
I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the courage.
I found a nice guy, maybe in his 20s, and had sex with him in the parking lot. I couldn’t do it on the dance floor like Danielle did.
Her and I met up later. Two black men were with her. My addiction kicked in and 30 minutes later we were back at Danielle’s house, her son and husband asleep, riding those men on a couch in her basement.
When we were done, our pussies filled, Danielle’s far more than me; she led them out, walking naked to her front door upstairs. I was getting dressed when she came back downstairs.
I was putting my shoes on when she scooped out cum from her pussy. She held her middle and index finger up to my mouth and nodded at me. She said she knew this is what I loved. She told me I was a black cock queen. I hesitated, looking at the cum on her fingers, then reluctantly licked it.
She told me of a yearly trip she makes in the spring to a place a few hours away. Danielle said she’s been going there about five years, telling her husband it was a work conference of some sort. She invited me. I shrugged and told her maybe. I just wanted to go home, I felt horrible.
The house was quiet when I got home. But I couldn’t sleep. I touched myself, until dawn. Mostly thought of TJ or Ulysses. I wished I stuck to them only. I wished I never craved more. They felt so good.
I’m getting worked up writing this. Curt is asleep now. I want to cum again.”
Curt was hard as a rock once more. The entry ended there, his mother presumably stopping to masturbate – right down the hall from him. He didn’t recall hearing anything from her bedroom recently. She must’ve kept quiet.
Curt unzipped his pants, set the diary down, and jacked off right there in his mother’s room.
-9-
The following weekend, after a week of nothing, mother and son somewhat quiet around each other, Curt was at it again. This night there would be no lust-filled imagery – only anger.
“Danielle got caught. She called me about it – laughing. Her son caught her. He came home early and found her in bed with a kid from his school.
Danielle went on and on about how funny it was seeing her son, standing in her bedroom door, a look of total shock on his face, watching his mother’s ass slam down on the high school quarterback’s big black cock.
I asked her if she stopped. She said she kept going, she kept riding his dick until he came inside her.
When he was done cumming, she slid off him, grabbing his cock and sucking it clean while grinning at her son. I should’ve hung up on her right there.
I can’t forget her words, ‘I sucked him dry, walked up to my son, and told him to look at that black cock. That was a real man. I told him his father isn’t a real man. He can’t please this ass of mine. I told him to leave, so I can have another round with what I truly love.’
I was speechless. All I could muster was to ask her what happened next. She said she sucked his cock back to life and kept going. Her husband wasn’t due home for several hours. She said she acted like nothing happened around her son.”
Curt slammed the diary shut. “Get away from this woman!” he yelled to no one.
He ran his fingers through his hair, angry at his mom again. He sat back, rubbing his chin, contemplating on confessing what he’d been doing or shut up and keep reading her diary.
He kept reading.
“She bragged about it for a few days. Danielle even asked if I was ok. I lied and told her I felt ill. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. What kind of woman would do that to her son? I would never do that to Curt. I love him with all my heart.”
Curt closed the diary, he had enough.
*
His mother seemed irritable, anxious, and unable to focus for the next couple weeks. Curt was similar but for different reasons. Mother and son rarely talked or hung out. Many would see it as normal for an 18-year-old not wanting to hang out with his mom. But it was far from normal in Curt’s home.
Miranda stopped going out on weekends. Curt never saw or heard TJ sneaking into the house. She gave it up, cold turkey it seemed. Curt was proud of her for not hanging out with Danielle anymore.
One Saturday in March, late at night, Curt heard familiar moans coming from her bedroom.
“Oh no,” he thought, waking up from his mother moaning.
He shook his head, threw off the covers and went to spy on her again.
No one was in her room. The bathroom door was closed, she was in there. Curt looked out her bedroom window, TJ’s car wasn’t there. He heard another moan again.
Placing his head against the bathroom door, he heard his mother whisper, “I need it. So horny,” followed by another moan. Curt was getting an erection listening to her masturbate.
He heard her slam, what he assumed, was a dildo down on the counter and sigh heavily. His mother was so horny. He heard footsteps and quickly dashed out of her bedroom just before her bathroom door opened.
A slight twinge of sympathy for his mother came over him before he drifted to sleep.
*
In late March, his mother unexpectedly left for a weekend trip. Miranda told Curt she was going out of town with a friend. Curt couldn’t question her; he couldn’t ask if it was Danielle or TJ. He didn’t know if she was lying, he didn’t know where these people lived so he couldn’t go by their houses to spy.