29 comments/ 108885 views/ 140 favorites Dad's Deployment By: Sam Jason Greg's face beamed a big smile in the small screen at the Family Readiness Center on the base. We had a precious few minutes to talk. We had to try and get it all crammed in, Ronny, my beautiful 18-year-old son, and me. We crowded in to fit into the camera shot. "I know enough not to ask where you are, Greg. It's always on a 'need to know basis' and—" "And you never need to know!" he laughed. His voice sounded small and artificial coming through the small speaker. So different from when this tough Marine Gunnery Sergeant was in the same room with me. Ronny said, "I bet it's someplace dangerous. It's always someplace dangerous." "Not as dangerous as your mother's driving," Greg joked. "I hear THAT!" Ronny said. "You keep yourself safe, you hear me," I said. "You don't always have to be the 'one' to be out there first and doing crazy things." He had been decorated several times for bravery and also received two Purple Hearts. "You know I got a secret guardian angel keeping me safe this time and pulling me home," he said. "Yeah, I know," I said holding back my tears. I had a secret of my own that was tearing my heart out. One I wanted to tell Greg but couldn't find the strength to. "They're telling me I have to go. Must be some fun they have planned for us," Greg said. He was looking to the side, probably at another Marine giving him some info. "So soon!" There was pleading in my voice. "Duty calls," he said. "Ronny, you take care of your mother. You have to fill in for me and be the man of the house while I'm gone. Whatever it takes, whatever needs to get done, you're the man. Promise me you'll take your responsibilities seriously and step up. No matter what!" "I promise, Dad. Mom's in good hands. You can believe that." "Greg, I need to tell—" "Gotta go! Sara, I love you. Talk again tomorrow. Keep that miracle going and growing! That's an order!" The screen went blue with the words "Connection Disestablished" in big white words. ********************** I said almost nothing on the drive home. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat silently at the kitchen table. Ronny came in and sat across from me. He had just turned 18 and it was his last year in High School. This was the third high school he attended because he was an "army brat"— a kid who moved around because his dad kept getting stationed here, there, and everywhere. He looked the spitting image of his father when I first met him. We were high school sweethearts, and I knew I would marry Greg the first time he kissed me. There was magic in it that had lasted for twenty-three years, and counting. I couldn't believe how fast the time had gone by, and I couldn't believe we were now 41 years old. "Mom, what's wrong?" Ronny's patience finally gave out. "Just thinking," I said, hiding the truth. "C'mon, Mom, I know when something's up. Is it Dad? You saw him today. He's back to his old self. Nothing can hurt him when he's like that. You know that!" It was true. Greg had a sixth sense about his safety. He knew when he was invulnerable, and he knew when he was in danger of being hurt—or killed. Until recently, he had been in the sourest mood I had ever seen him experience. "I think this is it, Sara. I got a real bad feeling this time," he had told me. He had never said that before. Even when he got wounded, all he said before was, "I'm gonna get roughed up a little. Should be fun!" He had that sixth sense. We had been trying to get pregnant again after he got his promotion. We waited before that. But, he got wounded in a place that made it "impossible" for us to conceive. Impossible until two weeks ago, the day he shipped out. That's when I gave him the good news: that I was pregnant. He was ecstatic and said the baby was a sign. It was his safe ticket home. It was the universe telling him he had more to do at home seeing his new child. He was back to being the Greg whose face I knew I would kiss again, safe and sound. "What's wrong, Mom." I shook my head. "Ronny, I don't know what to do." He reached across the table and took my hand. "Mom." "I wanted to tell your father today, but couldn't." "Tell him what?" He had concern and a little fear in his voice. "Ronny, I'm not pregnant." "You ... you lost the baby?" "More like never had a baby. I'm sooo stupid!" Ronny didn't say anything, and after a minute, I explained: "You know we're tried to get pregnant again for a real long time. I won't tell you all the details why." "Dad told me about how he got wounded and what happened. How you were the best for understanding and trying and everything." "I guess we both wanted to believe so bad we almost willed it to happen against all the doctors had told us. I was a little late—you know what that means, right?" I looked to Ronny and he gave an embarrassed nod. "So I used one of those tests and got a positive on it. I showed your father, and you remember that day." "Yeah, it was like the Fourth of July and Christmas all at once. Dad was bouncing off the walls." "He shipped out the next day, thinking ... believing I was pregnant. Finally pregnant. Only the next day my body proved it wasn't true. I went crazy! I tried to figure out what had happened." "Mom, I'm so sorry. What did happen?" "After you take the pregnancy test by peeing on it, you wait a while and then look for a 'plus' sign to see if you're pregnant. If it's a 'minus' sign, you're not. Well, after I left it there, my phone rang. It was your grandmother and we talked. When I came back, there was the 'plus' sign. "I don't see how a phone call can screw things up," he said. "I read up on all the ways the test can go wrong. One is if you wait too long. What was the 'minus' sign can sometimes turn into a 'plus' sign by adding what they called an 'evaporation line.' That happens if you leave it too long." "I don't believe this!" Ronny said. "Dad—" "I know, Ronny. That's what's killing me. I wanted to tell him today, but couldn't." "If he finds out there's no baby, he'll go back to being sure he's not going to make it. He'll think that's a sure sign." I nodded. Not only would he be disappointed he wasn't going to be a dad for a second time, but he would start living a self-fulfilling prophecy about his own death. "Mom, what can we do?" I shook my head. I had been wrestling with this since my period two weeks before, and I had no answers. "It's not like I can snap my fingers and be pregnant again, Ronny." "How about one of those artificial places." "Artificial insemination? They need the husband, the donor, to already have given his sample. You understand what I'm saying?" Ronny nodded. "Besides, that costs money, and everyone in this hick town would know about it. It would get back to your dad over the grapevine in no time." "What about, yanno, like just once, you, yanno—with some guy." "Ronald Alfred Bannix! Are you saying what I think you're saying? Your father is the only one I've ever been with. I have to deeply love the person I do that with. What on earth were you thinking?" "It would be better than losing Dad is all I'm saying. Telling him the truth is literally going to kill him. He'll do things he shouldn't in ways he shouldn't, thinking it's all 'fate' or 'destiny' or all the stuff he believes keeps him safe or puts him in the crosshairs." I thought that over, and my mind tried to make sense of it, come up with a solution, or see my way through in some way. "Besides, somebody else's baby would look like him, NOT like your dad with his square jaw, blue eyes, blonde hair, and high cheekbones. You can't fake those characteristics that are dominant traits in his family. Look at you, Ronny, you have all those, just like your dad." "And I'll pass down the same looks to my kids, just like Dad did to me?" "Exactly. Dominant traits for sure. That's why it could never work, even if I somehow convinced myself that it was all for a bigger and better cause. Believe me, I've thought about this for two weeks and there's no way out. There's no plan in the world that will—" "Mom, I got a plan." "You do? After five minutes you have a plan that I've been going crazy trying to figure out for weeks. Ronny, this is serious. I'm not in the mood for craziness at this point." "Just listen, listen for a minute." I knew this was almost as traumatic for him as it was for me. So I took a deep breath and tried to be as patient as I could with my son. "Go ahead, Ronny, I'm listening." "It's only a few weeks since you found out, so it's not like Dad would know, like if the baby's a little late, yanno more than exactly on the dot nine months." "That's not the point. Babies of course can be late." "Yeah, that's what I'm saying. It wouldn't matter. And we learned in biology that women can become pregnant best around two weeks later." "You mean two weeks after their period," I said. He winced. I had to smile. I thought I would break the tension a little bit by adding to his discomfort with another fact. "A woman is most fertile about two weeks later, when she ovulates." "Right, right ... ovulates. So, Mom, when do you ovulate?" This time I was embarrassed. "None of your business." I HAD, in fact calculated I was going to ovulate tomorrow. "But, it IS my business, Mom. You said I look just like Dad, you said my kids will look just like me." He looked at me like that made all the sense in the world. He rolled his hand again an again in that gesture that says, "Come on, get it—tell me what's next!" "I'm not following," I said. "Mom. It's so simple. It's the answer to everything. It's perfect." "Ronny, you have to be a little more plain than that." Mom. Just think of this: I'm the donor!" He had this wide grin like he was so proud of himself. Like he had just cured the world of all ills. "What? The donor? You? My son? A sperm donor? Are you crazy? I already told you we couldn't use a clinic. And—YOU? A donor? For ME?" "Not a clinic, Mom. You said everybody would find out. But this way, nobody would ever know. Not in a million years. Not anybody. Especially not Dad. It's perfect. Don't you see that?" "I don't see anything. You're babbling. And, you're making me a little frightened." His father got just like this when some idea got hold of him. He wouldn't let it go until he made something happen. "Mom, I want you to keep telling Dad you're pregnant." "Ronny, I can't lie to your father. It's too painful." "It won't be a lie." "Ronny—" "Mom. I want you and me to be pregnant! I want to do it to you. Me and you!" "What?" "Yeah, Mom, I want us to like ... fuck and make a baby." My face must have gone frozen when I heard my son's "brilliant" plan. ***************************** Ronny left me stunned. "Think it over, Mom," he said before going to his room. That was the most outrageous thing I had ever heard. What could he be thinking? I knew he was only trying to help, but his even telling his mother a thought like that made me wonder about if I had done an adequate job bringing him up. I had done my best. Being married to a career Marine was tough. I was essentially a single mom a lot of the time. I thought I had instilled good values in Ronny. Maybe his dad being away so much had changed his outlook on me. I spent the next half hour beating myself up about being a poor parent. The only good thing about that was it took my mind off not being pregnant and having to break that news to Greg. "Think about it," Ronny had said. Outrageous. Unfortunately, I did think about it: how wrong it was for my own son to have such a disgusting thought. Ronny came back to the kitchen and went to the fridge for a can of soda. I avoided looking at him. I wanted him to know I was angry. No—shocked and angry and disappointed. I silently hoped he forgot all about it. "Yanno, Mom. We probably don't have too much time." "Until what?" I knew immediately I shouldn't have gotten sucked back into his discussion." "Until you're at your readiest. When you ovulate. We can't let that go by. We couldn't wait another month because then it would be obvious something was wrong when you had a baby like a couple months late." "That discussion is closed, young man." "When do you ovulate? At least tell me that? I deserve to know that since I'm part of this family too. Right?" That probably made sense to his teenaged mind, but it wasn't going to move me. "Discussion CLOSED!" "Don't you want to get pregnant, Mom?" "That's not the point. That's only right and proper between your dad and me. Not in any other crazy way." "Is it so crazy to want Dad to be safe? To want him to be happy? To want him to be proud?" "He wouldn't be very proud if he knew what dirty thoughts you were having," I countered. "There's nothing dirty. Don't you get it? I'm thinking about getting it done, and you're thinking about HOW it's done. Doesn't Dad always say 'Get it done!' whenever I come whining about something?" "That's different. You don't know what you're saying. I can't believe you want to have sex with your own mother! Do you know how creepy that is!" "It's not sex. It's making a baby. The sex part is just how it needs to get done because we can't think of any other way. C'mon. You know there's no other way." I did know there was no other way. But, I also knew THIS wasn't the way either. "I won't talk any more about it." "Then Dad should know." "Know ...?" "Know you're not pregnant. I'm gonna let him know. You don't even have to do it. You can be a coward and not say a word. I'll explain how you made a big mistake by being on the phone and screwing up the test. And then not telling him and being dishonest for two weeks. And that if it wasn't for me he wouldn't know. You know Dad, he likes when people lie to him." Ronny's sarcasm tore a hole through my heart. When he said it like that, it made me feel like the worst person in the world. I lost it and burst into tears. I rested my head on my arm on the table and sobbed. "Mom. This isn't the time to fall apart." That sounded exactly like something Greg would say. He brought loads of his Marine mentality home with him and used it in daily life. "We can get through this. One step at a time, like Dad says." "This is different," I wailed through my tears. I felt Ronny knocking his hand against my arm and looked up at a few tissues he was handing me. I took them and blew my nose. "You're not making this any easier for me. Don't you see that?" I pleaded. "I want it to be the easiest thing in the world. When do you ovulate? That's an important part." I shook my head and kept silent. Ronny must have taken that as a cue to keep talking. "On my part. Mom, I don't know if you realize it, but I cum a lot. But, I haven't cum in a few days, so I should be all set." "Ronny!" I was shocked to hear my own son talk so candidly about his solitary sex life. I knew he had no girlfriend, so that's what it must be. I, unfortunately DID know about the amount he ejaculated. There was plenty of evidence on his sheets and in discarded tissues. One time, I even found what must have been an experiment of his. There on his nightstand was a medicine cup used for measuring a dose. In it was a whitish/yellowish glop of gelatinous substance. I had picked it up to examine it before I realized I was holding my son's semen and sperm. The scent that wafted up was unmistakable. Curiosity made me look at the volume measurement on the side of the cup. It was over 10 ml, almost half the container's volume. So yeah, I DID know my son could produce sperm. "The first step is for me to know when you ovulate. That's the mission date." Again, he was talking like his father. "I'm not telling you," I blubbered. "I'm going to assume then it already passed, so I might as well tell Dad about what you've done." Panic seized me: "It hasn't passed," I blurted. "Well, it has to be pretty soon, either today or tomorrow." "It's tomorrow," I said, truthfully. My confused mind thought I could buy myself at least a few more hours to figure this out. ******************** Some normalcy returned to the house. Ronny's high school friend, Stan Griss, came over to visit with Ronny. They teamed together for a science fair project, and traded visits regularly. This was the the fourth time I had seen Stan here. At first I thought it might have been my imagination, but I had caught Stan watching me when he didn't think I was aware. He had that vague, looking-at-a girl expression boys get. I giggled to myself, and maybe even found it a bit flattering. With my man away so much, I thought that any attention is good attention. Maybe it was vanity, but "Girl, you still got it!" ran through my mind. After they had been brainstorming in the basement (or the "laboratory" as I had dubbed it) for about an hour, I called down: "How about some freshly-baked cookies and milk!" They didn't reply, but pounded up the stairs. Stan was shorter than Ronny, and darker, but still a handsome young boy. The contrast again made me think of how much Ronny looked like his father at that age. I put a platter of hot chocolate chip cookies on the table. "Sit. I'll get you some milk," I said. I came back with two tumblers. I poured Ronny's, then leaning across the table, poured Stan's. I smiled at him when I finished but noticed his eyes were glued to my cleavage. I had a loose top on with a scoop neck. I realized that my top must have fallen away from my chest when I bent over, giving Stan quite an unintentional show. His mouth hung open. I didn't want to embarrass him by making a comment or calling him out. I had a lacy see-through bra on and wondered if he had seen my nipples showing through. I should have been more careful. After he left, I guiltily confessed to Ronny: "I think I inadvertently gave Stan an eyeful," I laughed. "Yeah. He said you have great tits." Ronny said it in so matter-of-fact a manner that it took a second to register. "Well ... that's disrespectful." "He thinks you're a MILF." I had heard the word, but really didn't know what it meant. "A MILF?" "Mother I'd Like to Fuck," Ronny said. "That's really over the line. You let him talk to you that way about your mother? Your father would knock a guy from here to tomorrow if he heard that kind of talk." "Relax, Mom. It's a compliment. It means you're really good looking. It means you have a great body. A lot of the guys have said that about you. They don't mean any harm." "Still, you should stick up for me." Ronny walked over to me. "And tell them what? That these aren't great tits?" Before I could react, his hands came up and cupped my breasts, gently lifting and pulsing them in his big hands. Before he let go, he rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. I felt them stiffen. "Ronny! How Dare you. I'm your mother." "I'm just sayin', Mom, the guys think you're a babe. You should be happy about that. All that exercise you do pays off. Stan thinks you have a great ass." He reached behind me and gave each cheek a painful pinch. I yelped and he laughed. That laugh, so much like his dad's, kept me from really getting angry. "Stop it! It might be one thing for hormone-fueled boys to ogle an older woman, but my own son should respect some boundaries." "Mom. Our job in the next twenty four hours is to break down boundaries. All the boundaries until we're ready to make a baby together." "You should be ashamed of yourself. To treat and talk to your mother like this. Ashamed. Embarrassed. What would your father think?" "He thinks you're pregnant. That's what he thinks. And, right or wrong, he's thinking that's keeping him safe because it's a miracle that's gonna bring him home to us. Of course ... I can tell him the truth." Dad's Deployment "Don't you dare!" I said. The truth. I would have to eventually tell Greg the truth and hope he would make it home safely. Him and his damned sixth sense. "We can make it true though. Mom, it would be so easy and nobody's ever the wiser. Just you and me would know. You'd be pregnant and Dad would be his old self for all the time he's ... he's wherever he is. Unless you really don't WANT to have a baby again." He looked into my eyes. "Is that it?" "Of course I want a baby. You saw how happy I was." "Then, it's settled. Unless you don't think I can get you pregnant. With the way I cum, that should be no problem. I shoot real far and I shoot a lot." I thought of all Ronny's sperm in that medicine cup. That amount would surely have a great chance of finding my egg. "There are just two things wrong. One is THAT sperm would be my own son's, not my husband's. The second is that no matter how far it 'shoots'—it can't reach where it would have to go, because that will never happen. That's an intimate act between two people who love each other." "We love each other, Mom." He said it with such sincerity and innocence I wanted to take him into my arms and hold him like I had done all his life. But, his actions today made me stay distant. "We have a different love. A man and a woman develop an intimacy. They love each other's personalities, but grow an attraction for their bodies until they're comfortable being naked in front of each other. Then they can join to make a baby. Don't you see it's a process that takes place gradually?" I thought maybe this would turn out to be a good thing. Maybe it was a chance to teach Ronny about the kind of mature relationship he would surely build with a partner in the future. I hoped he would take this lesson to heart. "So you're saying we should see each other naked first. OK." With that he whipped his shirt off, revealing a musculature that mimicked his dad's. "Here's my chest, Mom. See it? Lookit me!" I couldn't help but look. His hairless chest was tanned from days at the beach and doing chores outside all summer. He had long, lean muscles that were defined without looking narcissistically absurd. The lines in his abs disappeared into his sweatpants, showing they continued their athletic sculp downwards. "Ronny, stop! You're making a mistake. And, you're making a fool of yourself. You're going to look back on this and be very embarrassed." He didn't stop though. He dropped his sweatpants to the floor and did an exaggerated kick that sent them hard into the far wall. This revealed cables of muscle on his thighs and calves that only came from strenuous exercise. "See, Mom," he said while turning around. He only had his briefs on now. I wanted to appear unflustered and matter of fact: "I've seen you run around here in your underwear a thousand times over the years, so you're just wasting your time in front of your mother. I couldn't care less." "Oh, you've seen me before, sure. But I want you to look at me with new eyes. I don't want my mother's eyes to be looking. I want a woman to look at me. I want a woman who wants a baby to look at me. I want a woman that knows I can make a baby with her to look at me." I should have left the kitchen. I know I should have, but something made me stay. I hoped that something was my plan to reason with Ronny and have him give up his "mission." "You're talking nonsense and you have to come to your senses. What you're talking about is impossible, and could never happen in a million years." "A million years is way too long," he said as he dropped the only garment he had left, his shorts, to the floor. "It's a million years minus one day too long. Because tomorrow, the day after today, we have to make a baby." He pointed a finger at me and then touched his own chest while saying, "You ... and me." I didn't know what to say. And the sight of my completely naked son made me mute. I hadn't seen his naked body since he was nine. Now he was 18. For half his life he had been growing, without his mother's watchful eye or assistance, what was magnificently situated between his teenaged legs. I found one word, my son's name, which I whispered—maybe in shock, or maybe in reverence: "Ronny." He was uncircumcised. The foreskin covered all but the tip of his penis. The shaft, even flaccid, was full and firm, hanging and swaying with each of my son's small movements, light-blue veins crisscrossing it, giving promise of plenty of blood to fuel it when provoked. My eyes couldn't leave it. My son had the biggest penis I had ever seen. "What do you think, Mom?" His stepping close broke me from whatever spell of wonder or fascination or curiosity that had held me. "I think you're disgusting. You think you're the first man I've ever seen naked? You think your little act is going to possibly make any difference?" I put extra emphasis and disdain in my voice. "I don't care HOW many men you've seen. I only care that you see me. I only care that you see 'this,'" he took his penis in his hand, "and you know that it has to go there," he pointed at my crotch, "so we can make a baby tomorrow." "You're so naive!" I said, my voice rising. "You think you can get a woman to agree to having a baby, to have sex, just by parading around like this? This shows how unready you are, how immature you are! And, you're not even thinking about YOUR part in your little scheme. Nature makes a mother and a son see each other differently than as a man and a woman. There's no desire there—there's only love in a family way." "That's only habit. That's because we never thought about each other like that, like a man and a woman before. That's why we have to see each other naked now and get ready for tomorrow." "That will NEVER happen. You're NOT going to see your mother naked!" He closed the distance between us, that thing between his legs wagging. He grabbed at my blouse and freed it from my jeans. Before I could react, he pulled it up to my armpits and struggled to get it over my head and off me. "RONNY! STOP!" I shouted. My vision was blotted out by my own top being stretched upwards. It dawned on me my son had a clear vision of my breasts, only lightly covered by white transparent lace." "C'mon, Mom. I want to see you naked. You've seen me naked." "NO!" I fought to get my top down and won. "You have to stop this right now." I growled those words while tightening my lips and looking into my son's eyes. "How could you even dream you could make this happen?" "Look what YOU made happen, Mom. This is just from seeing your beautiful tits for a few seconds." In the palm of his right hands rested a lengthening and hardening penis. The head of it emerged from its hood, all slick and shiny. I was paralyzed by the sight. I was looking at my son's erection, an erection caused by me, by a look at my "tits." The erection itself would have been shock enough—the size and girth of it. But that my own son could become sexually aroused by his mother blew my mind. "Ronny ... enough." "I want to see you naked, Mom. Right now." He came at me again and this time went for my jeans. His strong hands got them unbuttoned, unzipped and partially skinned down my hips. I furiously struggled. My naked son was trying to strip ME naked. "STOP! STOP, RONNY!" "I'll stop with the jeans if you take your top off," he bargained with a big grin. "NO!" He renewed his winning efforts with the jeans, so I said, "OK! OK!" before they dropped any farther. He took hold of the hem of my top, prepared to strip it off me. I tugged my jeans enough to stay up on their own and said, "No ... please let me do it myself." That, my mind told me, maybe erroneously, let me retain some semblance of dignity. "OK, do it." "Please don't make me. This is insane." "Do it." I closed my eyes in shame, took hold of my top, and shucked it over my head. I couldn't bear to see my son's eyes drink me all in, so I kept mine shut. "Wow! Mom! You're so beautiful. Your tits are gorgeous! And look at those nipples. They're darker than I thought." I could hear him come closer, and I visualized him taking a good look at my bra-covered bosom. "All right. Enough of this. I did what you wanted. Now let's end this." "Mom, tomorrow you're going to end THIS!" He took my left hand and suddenly I felt something hard and hot. My eyes flew open and saw he trapped my palm against the shaft of his cock. "RONNY! THIS ISN'T RIGHT!" His strength kept me from pulling away, but not from causing my hand's struggles to move back and forth along the length of his penis. My hand was unwillingly jacking my son. "When's the last time you felt something like THAT?" My mind raced and couldn't remember the last time. I whispered, "Your dad ...." "C'mon Mom! I know all about Dad and his injuries. What he can do and what he'll never be able to do again. That's why I was so surprised when you said you were pregnant. I knew it couldn't be true, but hoped it was." I was lost in what he was saying. I didn't notice he released my hand. It remained encircled around his hot cock, which was leaking precum down its shaft and onto my palm and fingers. "Your father deserves better than this," I whimpered. "But, you deserve THIS, Mom." Ronny began a slow pumping of his hips in micro movements, using my immobilized fist to jerk him off. "What are you doing?" I asked. I should have been asking "What am I doing?" My attention was so focused on my hand, I didn't fend off Ronny's quick pull of my already-loosened jeans. They fell to the floor around my ankles before I could stop them. At least that woke me up enough to take my hand away from Ronny's throbbing manhood. It was coated with his fluids. I wanted to run, but would have tripped on my own jeans. I was trapped, standing there in my bra and panties with my naked son, who, by the way, sported a huge hardon—for his mother. "Now the bra, Mom!" My son was determined to strip me naked, and I didn't see how, at this point, I was going to stop him. That's when the doorbell mercifully rang. It reminded me the base liaison was dropping off some papers that needed signing. "To be continued," was all Ronny said while scooping up his clothes and heading for his room. His penis still throbbed. That left me in my underwear, with a lubricated palm—and a surprising throbbing of my own. ******************* I avoided Ronny the rest of the day. I didn't even make dinner. A long evening workout at the local gym helped relax me. It was owned by my friend, Beth's, husband. They let me workout there and pay them when I got a little extra cash, which was almost never. So I appreciated every moment I spent there. I was drenched with sweat when Beth came up behind me. "Whoa, girl! You're going to bust something. What's going on?" "I guess I'm working on some things. Working them out," I said. I was trying to exhaust myself and deplete the tensions of the afternoon. "Just remember a woman in your condition has to start treating her body differently. Your needs will be changing." Her statement brought all my problems I had tried to outrun on the treadmill right back. I hadn't even had the courage to admit to Beth I wasn't pregnant yet. I was living a lie that was sure to catch up with me. Yet, I didn't have the courage to confide even in Beth, let alone Greg with all he had tied up in believing in my miracle maternity. "Yeah, this body needs something all right." "Sara, you're in better condition than most of the twenty years olds who use this as their social club. Enjoy that figure while you can. Pretty soon you're going to be swelling up that belly with that bump of joy!" That sent a pang through me. "NO IT WON'T!" I wanted to yell at her. My belly would forever be flat and would swell only with fat if I let myself go. "Andy talked with Greg, and he's so psyched about having another child," Beth said. Andy was an ex-Marine, and one of Greg's oldest friends. "Yeah," I said with such lack of enthusiasm Beth squared me around and looked me in the face. "Sara, I know lots goes on when you first get pregnant. Your body chemistry, your mental attitude ... everything. And, it's especially hard for you with Greg deploying so soon and leaving you alone. But, you have to do all you can to keep yourself healthy and sane. To keep yourself ready for Greg to come home. AND—he WILL come home. Andy's sure of it. He said he heard that same indomitable will and fire in him that made him the superman all the guys relied on. He said that was missing for a while, but now it's back. You can rely on that. Your husband's magic. All the guys know it." "I need some of that magic here at home, Beth." I didn't tell her WHAT magic and in what form. "You're lucky you have Ronny," Beth consoled. "He's grown so much. He'll fill in for Greg while he's gone. Just rely on him more." I wondered what Beth would think if I told her how Ronny wanted to fill in—by knocking up his mom in his dad's place. It sounded so absurd. "You can't let the stresses get to you. Remember, you can tell me anything. I've heard it all." "Thanks Beth! It means a lot to know you're there for me," I said. "Especially in your condition! I'm so happy for you. You'll look back and see this is the best time of your life!" I don't know much about the future usually, but I predicted with certainty I would NOT look back on today as one of my great moments. ************************* I figured a long, hot bath would relax me and give me time to think after my workout. I didn't call my usual "I'm home!" when I arrived. I didn't even want to see Ronny again until I achieved some clarity. I stripped off my exercise outfit, sports bra, and panties while the tub filled. I made it as hot as I could stand it, and when I eased in, it took my breath away, making me pant with a tingling burning of my skin until I became accustomed to it. "Mmmm," escaped from me as I luxuriated in the heat. It soothed my muscles and took my mind off my dilemma. With a facecloth and a bar of moisturizing soap, I sudsed up and scoured my skin roughly. The water went from clear to completely cloudy so I could no longer see my feet and legs. This was a good idea. I was finally starting to relax. I slid my butt toward the drain, took a deep breath, and submerged my head, wetting my hair. I had the shampoo within reach above. I remained under the water, letting the heat and the fetal feeling of being again encased in protective fluid engulf me. But, when I came up for air finally, Ronny was standing next to the tub. He was shirtless, dressed only in his sweatpants. "Hi, Mom!" "Ronny! How did you get in here? I locked the door!" "You mean the lock where you use a pen to stick in the hole and push so it snaps the button out? I've known how to unlock that for a million years." "I'm taking a bath. You have to respect my privacy." I slunk deeper into the water to hide my nakedness." "I thought we should talk about today," he said, sitting himself down on the lip of the tub near my feet. "OK. That's a good idea. We need to clear some things up, for sure. But, now is not the time. You go out to the living room and I'll finish my bath and be out." "I'd rather just talk now." I had the water up to my lips, the rest of me was hidden by the murky liquid. "Ronny, you pushed things way too far today." "I don't think I pushed them enough, Mom. Don't you understand? I still haven't seen you naked. And that's an important first step. I want to see you and appreciate you for more than being just my mom. I want to see your body and let my body get ready for making a baby together." "You have to get that out of your head. That can't happen for SO many reasons." "So you came up with a better plan?" "Yes I have," I said. It had come to me during my bath. "Huh?" Ronny's face went slack with bewilderment. "We're not telling your father a thing while he's away. We'll let him keep believing we're having a baby. When he gets home safe and sound, then I'll explain and face the consequences. At least he'll be safe." I looked at Ronny and smiled. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted and it felt good to let my plan out. "There's just one little flaw in your plan, Mom." "And what's that?" "I'm going to tell Dad there's no baby. I'm going to tell him tomorrow when we talk again." "You can't be serious! You can't! You wouldn't!" "Watch me tomorrow, Mom. We'll see whose plan is better, yours or mine." "You can't do this. You can't put me through this, Ronny!" "Your plan is a total lie with nothing to show for it at the end: Dad disappointed and betrayed for months, and no baby to come home to. My plan will do only good. My plan keeps Dad happy and safe and adds to our family with a new baby we can all love." "No ... no ... no," I chanted. "Ronny, I'm your mother. How can you believe I can mate with you, allow myself to have sex with my own son and be impregnated? It's crazy!" "It's gonna be easy. We'll take small steps. The first step is for me to see you naked." And with that, he reached over and yanked the chain attached to the stopper. It made a gulping sound, and the water began rushing down the drain. "Ronny! NO!" I yelled and tried to use my foot to stem the tide. Ronny reached in and easily slid my wet foot away from the drain. The water continued to rush, and with every passing second, my concealing protection dropped lower. First my neck emerged, then my shoulders. I put my arm across my breasts, and my other hand over my crotch. It was slow torture as the water descended and ran away from me down the drain. Ronny's eyes took in every new discovery as my body was exposed. I turned my face to the wall and closed my eyes. The last of the water left with a loud gurgle from the drain. Except for my arm and hand covering my "essentials" I was totally exposed. "Stan begged me for these," Ronny said. I turned my head. Ronny was holding my panties, the ones that had absorbed my workout's sweat, in his hands. He presented them with his two hands, pinched between thumbs and forefingers, like they were hanging on a clothesline. "But, I always told him 'no.' I didn't want him to cross that line with you. But I ... now ...." He paused to bunch them up and inhale deeply from them. "Now I want to cross that line. Another little step, Mom. Now I know what your pussy smells like." He breathed in again before dropping them to the floor. "You're a pig! An animal!" "Animals know how to do something without anybody having to tell them. They know how to mate. Look what your panties did for me," he said. Ronny stepped up to me in the tub and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down. His erect penis sprung loose. No matter how I tried, I couldn't take my eyes off it. "Look what you do for me, Mom." There was no doubt I had excited my son. Whether is was my wet body or the pheromone-laced impact of my panties, I didn't know or care. "You can't tell me you don't feel something too." "I don't. I'm your mother for goodness sake." "I hear you with your friends. I hear you complaining that you aren't getting what you need when Dad's away. And I hear you two arguing. You don't get what you need when he's here either. Admit it." It was true, but I would never admit to that in front of Ronny. Many a night I twisted and turned, my body needing, craving, crazy to be filled and desired. I had numbed myself to those feelings. Now it was only a dull ache. The sight of my son's erection though had awakened something deep in my unconscious. It made a shudder rumble through my loins as I looked at the dark opening of his beautiful, young, thick cock. Dad's Deployment "Take your hands away. I want to see you naked. I want to see your nipples. And now that I smelled you, I definitely want to see that pussy. I want to see where I'm going to shoot all my cum and make you pregnant." Maybe I could buy some time. I was so vulnerable trapped in the tub like this. "Let me dry off on my own. At least give me that. You owe me that." "OK, Mom. I'll wait for you in the living room." He kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him totally naked like that afternoon. He took one more sniff of my panties before leaving the bathroom. I let my arm fall away from my breasts and took my hand from between my legs. They felt like lead after being held in one position for so long. I was cold. After being in the hot water, sitting there with evaporation refrigerating my skin caused a case of goosebumps. I rubbed the towel hard over my body to warm and dry myself. All I had brought with me was my white terry cloth robe. It felt good and warm when I slipped it on and tied it tight at the waist. I brushed my short brown hair back. It was still almost completely wet and looked even darker than usual. "Ronny is just horny," I said into the mirror. "The only way to tame that ...." I put the brush down and headed for the living room with a desperate plan. ************************** Ronny hadn't bothered getting dressed. It was a scene I never dreamed I would witness. My teenaged son lounging naked on our couch. "Lose the robe, Mom," was the first thing he said. "I want to see you naked like you promised." "I didn't promise anything." He got up. I took a step back to maintain some distance. I wanted a few seconds to present my case, to make my point before he tried to take control. Something he had gotten good at (like his father). "The robe, Mom." "Ronny, I know how it is to be young and full of new thoughts and desires. As we grow older—" "I don't want a lecture, Mom. I want to see you naked." "Just hear me out for a second. When we get older, we learn how to control ourselves. But when we first encounter feelings that are powerful, like sex, all we want to do is fulfill those desires. Once they're fulfilled, we come back to normal and lots of times regret what we did." "Mom, the only thing I'm going to regret is if I don't get you pregnant tomorrow. I want us to be naked here together, mostly to get YOU ready for it, to make you comfortable with it so it can happen with the most chance of it working." My desperation play here was to get Ronny to cum. I figured once that happened he would see the lunacy of his "plan" to get me pregnant. He came forward and reached for my robe. I intercepted his hand and said, "Let's sit down for a minute and listen to what I have to say." "No, Mom, the robe." I reached out and took his penis into my right hand. "Oh, Mom!" he said in surprise. I jacked it back and forth until it was fully pumped. "Let's sit." "OK, Mom." Once on the couch, I laid out my scheme: "Mom's going to do something now to help you. To help you think more clearly. You must understand the reason behind this." I took his hard cock and began a slow pump—all the way up and all the way down. At the top of the motion, I lightly ran my thumb over the tip of his sensitive head. "Mmmm," growled out of his lips. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. I can only imagine what was going through his mind as he realized his own mom was going to give him a handjob. The heat of his prick burned into my hand. I kept telling myself I was doing this to save the situation, but part of me was beginning to revel in the fact I was able to still excite a young cock, make it hard, and ... make it cum. As I looked at my hand speeding up, my breath became more shallow and quicker. "Mom!" Ronny whispered. I thought it wouldn't be long now. That's when Ronny stopped me. He took my hand off his penis, and leaned forward. "Ronny, what's wrong. Let me finish you." He didn't say a word, but pushed me slowly off the couch and guided my kneeling body between his knees, facing him. "Ronny, no. I can't do that to you." I knew the implication. I knew what this position meant. He didn't just want a handjob—he wanted his mother to give him a blowjob. He took my hand and put it back on his cock. My fingers couldn't reach all the way around it. He guided my hand up and down in a slow repetitive motion. Then he left it to continue on its own, which it did. His right hand slid along my shoulder, traced up my neck, and then cupped the back of my head. He leaned back and closed his eyes. I pumped again, going faster and faster, my eyes squarely on the huge head of his penis just a foot away from my face. Then I felt a gentle pressure from his hand. Ronny was pulling me forward. Not hard, but constant, and insistent. I thought I was resisting, but found myself inching closer and closer. I could smell him, smell the muskiness of a male. My breath came even quicker. Now my mouth was mere inches away. The precum glistened and flowed from that dark spot in the middle of his light-purple glans. "Ronny ... no." "Lick it, Mom," was all he said. My tongue snaked out and gave me my first taste of my son. I pulled back my coated tongue and swallowed. He pulled lightly, ever so lightly at the back of my head, but my head went forward on its own. I had never seen this in my planning. I would have never dreamed this would have been possible. I opened my mouth and engulfed about four inches of my son's delicious penis. "Ohhh, Mom!" I looked up and our eyes met. My 18-year-old son was seeing his 41-year-old mother sucking his cock. "MMMM!" he groaned. The taste and feel of him electrified me. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked hard. I bobbed my head up and down while I increased the speed of my fist. I reasoned with myself that this was the sacrifice I was willing to make so that the ultimate sin between mother and son would never come to pass. Then, Ronny shocked me. He withdrew himself from my mouth, causing a soft "pop" from the broken suction. Then he disengaged my hand. "I don't want to waste my load of cum down your throat, Mom. That's meant for other places tomorrow. Think how that will feel deep inside of you." "Ronny, let me finish you. You know that's best." He stood up and pulled me to my feet. "What's best is I see you naked. Now!" Before I could react, he tore the tie of my robe apart. Then he grabbed the lapels and spread them wide, exposing my naked form. "RONNY! NO!" But "no" wasn't in his vocabulary tonight. He roughly tore the robe over my shoulders and glided it from my arms. Ronny had before him what he had demanded all day: his totally naked mother. "Oh my God!" I whimpered. "Nice, Mom! Real nice. You're amazing." He ran his hands over me, and I tried futilely to resist. The friction of his palms and fingers heated every inch of my skin as he explored my arms, back, ass, and breasts. "Ronny ... enough." He pulled me into an embraced and tried to kiss me. I turned my head furiously, avoiding his lips. "What?" he questioned, "your mouth can blow me, but not kiss me?" That truth shocked me into immobility. That's when his lips met mine and his tongue delved deep. I struggled, but then felt that same spark I had felt the first time Greg kissed me. I groaned into Ronny's mouth and my tongue found his. I don't know how long that first kiss lasted, but Ronny finally broke it to only direct his mouth to another target—my right nipple. In one unexpected move, he lowered his head and sucked in my already-erect nipple. "OOHHH!" I gasped. My struggles to pull away turned to gentle embraces of his head. Greg's injuries had led to his sexual inattention. We had started to have to make "special dates" to create any romance or attempt sex. There had been no spontaneity for almost six years. And, there was also always a tension because of the possibility Greg couldn't perform (which was nine out of ten times). It made for an anxiety-filled time together instead of something to be anticipated and enjoyed. Ronny's spontaneity had jolted my system into responses I had forgotten. My body responded to each pressure and motion. "You taste so good, Mom!" Ronny grunted before switching to the other nipple. "You have to stop," some motherly part of my brain said while the womanly part of my brain searched low until it found my son's hard penis. I gently squeezed it and moved my hand rhythmically. Ronny backed me toward the couch until I tumbled into a seated position. He kneeled between my parted thighs and hooked his hands behind my knees. With one upward push, he pinned my legs back onto my chest. Then he dipped his head into my pubic hair, and I felt his tongue washing over my vagina. "NOOOOO!" I screamed. He licked and nibbled and gulped at what must be flowing from me. Then he found my clitoris." "No, no, no, no!" I repeated like a prayer. It was an unanswered prayer because Ronny gently sucked that swollen bud of flesh. "AAAAHHHHHHH! NNNNAAA!" I cried. His tongue went around and around, punctuated with long licks with the flat of his tongue. "Oh my GOD! That's it!" I felt a pressure, a fire that I thought had long been extinguished rekindled in me. It wouldn't be long before— That's when Ronny stood up. "Whaaa? Ronny?" I said in a haze. "We shouldn't waste this, Mom," he said with a smug smile. "We'll need it for tomorrow, when we make a baby together." He left the room, the one with his naked mother leaking her unfulfilled desires from her vagina. ***************************** I looked at the bedside clock glowing at me every few minutes. This night was inching by. My body wouldn't allow me to sleep. How could it sleep after being raised to such a heated level and then left there. My butt, my breasts, and of course, my vagina throbbed and burned and ached. Ached for release. "Damn you, Ronny," I breathed. Then, another emotion kicked in: guilt. Here I was blaming my teenaged son when his mother, who should be old enough to know better, let everything get out of hand. I turned over on my stomach, then turned onto my back. I turned the pillow over to the cool side. Nothing helped. I kept thinking of the bathtub, then the kitchen, then the living room. All the thoughts and scenes. But, the one thing that kept leaping to the top of my watch list was Ronny's penis. That big, hot, hard, delicious .... I had to stop thinking of it. But, it had been sooo long since I had a real virile cock in my hand. And his question to me about how it would feel inside of me. That outrageous question forced me again and again to imagine my own son's penis invading his mother's vagina. "It's not fair," I said to myself in the darkness. Mercifully, that's the last I remembered of the night. The last time I had looked at the clock, it read 3:27. I awoke at 7 a.m. A miserable three hours sleep. We were scheduled to be at the Family Readiness Center for our video teleconferencing with Greg at 9:30. This was to be our last regular contact until further notice. I knew how that went—it could be next week, or it could be months before we talked with Greg again. I ironed a new tablecloth I had picked out for the kitchen table. It was bright and cheery. Something I desperately needed about now. "How'd you sleep, Mom?" I turned to look at him. There he was, for all outward appearances, the same boy who greeted me every morning of his life. But now, because of yesterday, he was different. Or maybe it was I who was different. "Like a top," I lied with a smile. It was a lie unless turning constantly qualified as a top too. "Me too. I thought of you a lot before I went to sleep. Then I woke up thinking about today. How special it's going to be." "Ronny, we have to talk. Sit down." We each took our usual chairs. "Mom, my mind's made up." "You have to be reasonable. What you're thinking can never work. There are so many other things involved that you have conception of." "Conception is the word of the day, Mom. I'm going to get you pregnant today and that will be that. You might have doubts today, but you'll be happy the rest of our lives with a new baby. And Dad—it will change his life. Don't you think he deserves to feel like a man with you again. Don't you think I know that a lot of the risks he takes is so he can have that feeling about being as good or better than all the rest of the guys. All because of his wounds." Ronny was proving he was more sensitive and knowing than I had imagined. "You father is as good as any man ever," I affirmed. "Yeah, but when he thought he made you pregnant, he believed that he had been given one last gift, something impossible that told him he was OK, a real man still and forever." "Ronny, you mean well, but—" "Dad said I'm the man of the house, right?" I didn't reply. "And that I have to fill in for him, right?" "That's just his way of talking." "And that I had to take responsibility? And what's he always say? 'Duty calls.' Well, I see something that's my duty, and it's calling today. Today is you best day to get pregnant. If it doesn't happen, we can't wait until another month goes by and you look back and then think it would have been a good idea. We can't!" "Ronny, darling. You're my son, not my husband. You have your own responsibilities, not something like this. You shouldn't even be involved—" "But, I am involved, and I'm going to do what's right for the whole family. And that includes a baby who should be born in 9 months." "A mother and son can't do that. It isn't moral or legal or right in any way." "Dad's putting his life on the line every day. If this will keep him safe, then it's as moral and right and legal as it has to be!" "Ronny, we have to forget what happened yesterday. That was wrong. We can't talk about it ever again. Today, I'm going to tell your dad that all is well and that I'm still pregnant. And you're going to go along with me." "The only way I will is if you promise we'll make a baby as soon as we get home this morning. That way it won't be a lie. Otherwise, I'm telling Dad you're not pregnant. As simple as that." "You wouldn't dare. I know you wouldn't. You wouldn't do that to me. You wouldn't do that to your father. It would break his heart and his will." "Promise me then," Ronny said. "I can't," I whispered. *************************** "There's my team," Greg said. We had mostly not talked on the way to the Family Readiness Center. It would have been so much easier if we didn't have our communications restricted due to security. It would be nice to just pick up a phone or Skype. But, this is how it had to be in these tense times. "Hi, Dad. I'm trying to do what you said." "Remind me," Greg said. He laughed on the screen. I was petrified about what Ronny was going to say. I even considered leaving him behind, but couldn't do that to father and son. You never knew if this could be the last time they would see each other. That constant threat and fear gnawed at us all waiting for loved ones away. "To fill in for you. To be the man of the house. To take care of Mom. You know, all that." "Son, I'm proud of you! Sounds like you're stepping up and doing what has to be done." "It's just that Mom doesn't see it that way all the time." "Ronny!" I interjected. "Be careful." "Sara, I know this is difficult for you. But, you have a real man there at home with you. Stop treating him like a child and let him spread his wings." I wondered what Greg would think if he knew his son wanted to spread my legs. "I don't know when we'll be able to talk next," Greg said, suddenly serious. "We'll be on the move, and things are all up in the air. It's all easier if I know you've got things under control there and are getting along." "Things will be great here, Greg. I guarantee it. You just take care of yourself and remember we love you." "That means a lot. And, when I get home, there will be that extra special delivery that should be ready. How do you feel about a new brother or sister, Ronny?" Ronny looked at me before speaking. "I'm glad you brought that up, Dad, because I've been thinking about it and have something important to tell you." "What is it, son?" "Ronny, don't," I said, panic overtaking me. "It's all about a promise, Dad, one that I want Mom to make." He looked at me and I shook my head "no." "A promise?" "Yeah, I want her to promise me something important in front of you." He leaned over to me and whispered, "Promise or I'll tell him." "Ronny ... please...." "What's this promise about, Sara. Don't make me micromanage things there. If it's going to be good for the family, do it." Ronny looked at me again and the tension of the moment broke my resistance. I nodded my head to him "yes." "Great," Ronny said. "Mom just promised I can help name the baby with you two," he deftly lied. "Of course you can!" Great boomed. "This baby is as much yours as it is ours!" "I feel the same way, Dad. More than you can know." "Duty calls," Greg said. His usual farewell. Now, a strange duty was calling his wife and son. "You keep yourself safe," I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "Bye, Dad. You can count on me to take care of things." "Give your mother a kiss for me," Greg said. The screen went blue. White letters: Connection Disestablished. ******************** In the car I said, "That was unfair." "No it wasn't. It's the only way to keep you honest." "You think what you're proposing is honest? Really? You think substituting your baby for your father's is honest?" "Yeah because Dad believes it and that's what's gonna keep him safe and bring him back to us. That's all the honesty I need." "My plan, not telling him about not being pregnant would have done the same thing," I reasoned. "And THAT would have been honest? That would have caused way more problems when Dad finally found out. He would have found out and realized he could never have another kid. He would have realized that his wounds had fucked up his chances to ever make you pregnant again and that it was too late." Ronny's swearing stunned me for a second. "Don't you see, mom, if you're pregnant and Dad has another child, for the rest of his life he'll know his wounds didn't ruin his life completely as a man and as a father. Don't you see that?" "I don't know what I see any more. This is crazy. Even thinking about this is crazy. What already happened yesterday is crazy. But—letting you—your own mother letting you try and get her pregnant—that's insanity." "Mom, I'm glad we did what we did yesterday. That proved our bodies are ready for what's gonna happen today. That I can be excited enough to make love to you and your body can be excited enough to respond to me. I felt that yesterday. I know you were horny, Mom. Don't deny it." I wanted to deny it in the worst way. It was shameful the way I acted. I let Ronny see me naked, I had sucked his cock, and I had let him eat my pussy until I was ready to .... "My body betrayed me. Ronny, I'm going talk to you like you're an adult. Your father and I haven't had really normal sex in a long time and I thought I had shut down all feeling in that way. But, you forced my body awake in a way no son should ever do to his mother. That doesn't make it normal or right. And what you're intending to do is even worse. That's one line that should never be crossed." "It HAS to be crossed, Mom. And look, I don't want it to be something you hate. I don't want to be that moment you conceive a baby to be something awful for you. I want to make love to you because I want it to be full of love. I love you, Mom, and I want this to be something good. No, not good ... great."