Mom At The Prom free porn video

Edward Morelli heard the phone ringing. It was annoying the 18 year old, both because it was the fourth ring and also because it was interrupting his drinking. He took another swig from his 5 liter bottle of Jack Daniels and leaned across the living room sofa to the irritating telephone and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hell-loooo,” he slurred.

“Ed?”

“Yeahhhh. Who the fuck is this?”

“Your mother.”

The blatant reply, mixed with a tinge of parental authority, offset his alcohol-induced stupor. He sat up right and started clearing his throat.

“Mom! Hi, are you?”

The parental tone now contained concern.

“Ed, what’s wrong?”

The throat clearing went on while he blinked his eyes rapidly and desperately tried to shake the cobwebs from his head.

“Nnn, nnnnothing, Mom.”

The high school senior altered his voice to sound chipper.

“How are YOU?”

Jacquelyn Morelli wasn’t buying it.

“I’m fine. Ed, are you drinking?”

There was a pause.

“No, no. No! Mom! I’m not dddrrrrinking!” he declared and self-defended. “Why, why woulddddd you say that?!”

“Because I am your mother and I know you. You’re slurring your words and you sound shit-faced. Where’s my dearly divorced husband?”

“Dad?”

She responded with annoyance.

“No, the mailman.”

Ed laughed like a drunk.

“He’s out delivering packages,” he snorted.

“Yeah, like the time I walked into his office and he was delivering his ‘package’ to his tramp secretary. EDWARD DAVID WHERE IS YOUR FATHER?!”

Her extremely pissed-off tone and use of his middle name jolted his daze.

“Dad is in Tampa on business.”

“Another month away?”

“Two months.”

“Tampa…Florida. America’s wang. It’s perfect for him,” she sneered. “He thought with his dick—except with me, and is a dick.”

The son busted out laughing at the incredible but justified insults.

Hearing him chortle loosened Jacquelyn’s demeanor a bit. She smiled.

“Did Husband of the Century give you the money for your prom like he told me he would?”

Edward’s chuckling stopped when he heard the words “your prom.” He paused, feeling sullen.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Give your Dad a gold star for at least keeping his word to you, she silent mused to herself. She was about to inquiry about the tux and other items surrounding the annual dance when she heard, after his one-word answer, a pause and the faint sound of sniffling.

The 40 year-old knew immediately her son was on the verge of crying. Her natural motherly instinct kicked in.

“Eddy, baby, what’s wrong?” she semi-begged, with a softer, worried timbre.

The lad broke down sobbing. It was several moments before he could speak.

“Barbara dumped me, mom. She dumped me!” he hollered into the receiver. Ed began to weep again, then finished his statement.

“A week right before the prom!”

A figurative dagger pierced her heart. She felt instant sadness for her son. At the same time she wanted to find Barbara and tear her ‘a new one.’

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry!”

“Right before the prom!” he repeated. “One FUCKING week before the prom!”

Normally Jacquelyn would admonish him for “language” but this wasn’t the time and she wasn’t in corrective mode.

“What happened? What did she say?” the mother gently pried.

Ed managed to speak after gathering himself together.

“Barbara called me a couple hours ago saying she wasn’t going to the prom with me. Just like that, clear out of the blue!”

He paused to wipe his nose with the bottom of his T-shirt which was on the sofa beside him.

His break got Jacquelyn on pins and needles.

“What did she give as a reason for this sudden change?”

“Max Wellington, the captain of the football team. He had just broken up with his girl and Barbara said she always had the hots for him. Now that he was available, especially for the prom, she told me she couldn’t let the opportunity slip away. She said she was sorry.”

Edward pulled back on the oncoming tears so that he could sarcastically roar.

“SHE SAID SHE WAS SORRY!”

Jackie heard him take another swig of his ‘liquid strength.’

“You believe that shit, Ma?! She said SHE WAS SORRY!”

Listening to him blubber made her want to cry. Jackie felt his pain, both as his mother and as knowing all too well the gut-wrenching, life-changing sting from your significant other’s sudden, betraying reversal.

“I’m sorry, Ed.” she softly consoled. “Honey, I am so, so sorry.”

The parent wanted to say more, do something. At the moment, she was stunned at hearing about this sudden heartache. All she was able to do was listen to her only c***d wail like a wounded a****l.

After a few somber moments, Jacquelyn got an idea, and made a decision.

“What are you drinking?”

Ed gave up the weak pretense.

“JD,” he replied.

“Save me some. I’m coming over.”

The high school senior was immediately a combination surprised, relieved, and reluctant.

“Mom, I appreciate that but I am ok. Really.”

“You REALLY sound drunk. You’re also REALLY down.”

“Mom, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

Jackie knew this, but wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I know, sweetie. I just want to be with you, to take care of you. You know I know about betrayal.”

Her tone had been caring and very motherly, until she brought up to him what his father did to her. Then she started to cry.

Now it was his turn to feel bad for her. Ed considered his dad to be the equivalent of pond scum. Hearing her bawling changed his mind about her coming to the apartment.

“Mom, mom. Stop crying. Ok. Come on over.”

Though Jackie had genuinely sobbed at the remembrance of her husband’s serial infidelity, she added more to the waterworks so Edward couldn’t insist on her not coming over.

“Ok,” she commented, repressing a triumphant grin.

The lad sat back and sighed.

“Mom, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she retorted.

There was a pause, and then he spoke with a snicker.

“I’m sorry.”

Lost at the comment, Jackie inquired.

“What do you mean?”

“I finished all the Jack Daniels.”

“Really?”

She was slightly disappointed. Jackie truly did enjoy the famous whiskey.

Ed belched then hiccupped.

“Yep.”

“Fucking alchie,” she joshed.

He laughed.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“You’re welcome, and I love you, Ed.”

After the call disconnected, Jacquelyn sprung off her recliner and into action, steaming into her bedroom to pack.

Nobody does that to my son and gets away it!

Whimsically she then pondered.

I wonder what the prison term for aggravated assault is. I am aggravated—at Barbara, and I want to assault her.

Forty minutes later, two packed suitcases were in her Nissan Maxima as she headed down the interstate for the ninety minute drive to her ex-husband’s apartment.

*

It was 12:43 AM when the incessant door buzzer finally woke Ed. After hanging up from his mother, he simply passed out on his sofa.

“Shit!” he cursed to himself.

As he grudgingly picked himself off the couch, the sound of his doorbell seemed to grow in loudness and persistence.

“Alright! Alright! I’m coming!”

The drunken young man almost stumbled as he took his first step in walking.

“Fuck!”

He was relived that his announcement that he was approaching the door ended the ringing. Padding his way to the front door, he squinted. Ed reached for the doorknob then realized it was generally necessary to undo the two locks first. He opened the door.

Standing outside was Jacquelyn, a suitcase on the ground next to her and a wheeled, carry-on bag in her opposite hand. She smiled heartily.

“Edwaaaaaard!”

The mother’s extended pronouncement of his name was due to another type of extension, one very unexpected and very pronounced.

Her son had answered the door, sleepy drunk, clad only in a pair of jockey underwear, and sporting a sizeable erection.

In a nanosecond Jacquelyn’s face went from happiness to shock as her eyes dropped like a bad stock from his eyes to his boner. Then her pupils widened as they looked at, then looked over, almost hypnotically, the penis she was never meant to see in an aroused state.

The phallus stretched forth like an obscene tree limb through the navy, Fruit-of-the-Loom material. The divorcee had no choice but to realize her son’s hard cock was impressively long. The protruding fabric also relayed to her that this hidden, forbidden, slab of young male beef was topped with a fat cockhead.

Edward, still within the remaining vapors of inebriation, just stood there. He knew the woman before him was his mom. It didn’t faze him, though, that he greeted his mother, clad in skimpy shorts, with a hard-on, or that she was peering at it in a most unmotherly fashion.

Jackie’s initial—and eagerly continuous—view of Ed’s tented loins was based on a provocative elixir. It was a blend of (1) not having seen a live cock, preferably as the current specimen was—hard and ready—in two years since her last date and almost five years since her divorce, and (2) the unrestrained yet realized knowledge of salaciously enjoying a taboo scenario.

They say a penis has a mind of its own. Ed’s was a shining example of this. It had uncurled, unfurled to its full length just a short time ago thanks to a very naughty dream its owner was having involving the Spice Girls.

Now, with his mother—his attractive, buxom, and divorced mother—gazing at it with unorthodox interest, Ed’s dick pulsated with shameless, daring excitement. The degree of carnal heat was raised when Jackie, willingly nonstop in her visual attraction to her son’s manhood, instinctively licked her lips. It appeared to her that the luscious member throbbed even more under her lusty gaze.

Then a stain hastily appeared on the expansive front of the underwear cloth.

She licked her lips again.

drunkenly oblivious to the very inappropriate way he answered the door, Ed greeted her.

“Hi, Mom.”

The second word halted her lusty reverie and hit her like a Mack track. She felt instant guilt about her actions.

“Hi, Eddie!” she stammered back.

She declined her initial intention to make a joke about his erection. Instead she just ignored it and walked by him in with her luggage. Jackie turned around to him. He was still standing there with a dumb and wasted grin, erection ever present and now in a bawdy silhouette.

“Son, I’m inside your place now. It’s almost 1 in the morning now. You might want to close the door and lock it.”

Ed followed the instructions. He shut the door and rebolted the locks. He turned to her, resuming the display of his imbecilic smirk.

“Mom!” he welcomed, moving toward her with open arms, a genuine want to just greet her, and his solidified edifice bouncing to and fro.

Jackie’s matching grin was half-hearted. She did want to embrace her son, but dreaded his manly projection touching her. Yet she didn’t want to embarrass him. She realized, as his arms went around her neck in an almost bear-like embrace, that there was no way to avoid the genital contact.

“Son!” she weakly, submissively welcomed.

When it happened, when his barely-covered, upturned dick landed against her jean-encased vagina, Jackie’s eyes flew open. As the tightness of his hug pushed his shaft further against her cunt, she seemed to short-circuit.

The dark-haired beauty grunted in feral appreciation. The hefty erection, albeit her son’s, felt good against her sexually-barren crotch. She hoped he didn’t hear the throaty exhale.

Worse yet, she almost immediately silently begged that he didn’t feel her lewd push-back against his thick, meaty schlong.

“Mom! It’s so good to see you!” he extolled, giving her a peck on the cheek.

Apparently he didn’t hear or pay attention to her grunt or her counter-thrust. Ed’s mind was too fogged in.

His stiffness, though, wasn’t.

Neither was Jacquelyn’s libido which, forbiddingly, was awakened at the initial penile contact. She instinctively rolled her hips again, pushing back against Ed’s hard-on. In turn, his stiff prick countered with an intentional shove.

“Ugghhh!” she gasped again.

Alarm bells were blaring loudly in the divorcee’s mind. Besides the actual, physical collision of his penis and her sex, there was the warm feeling that emanated from within her muff, and the beginnings of her nipples become hard.

She pushed him away, feeling just a bit disappointed as his solid manhood was separated from her pubic region.

He felt slighted.

“Mom, wha, wha, what’s wrong?”

She knew his hurtful sounding inquiry had nothing to do with his erection and her eager gash. He was too toasted to realize that or anything else sexual. She doubted Ed even realized he had a hard-on.

Jacquelyn played it off.

“Nothing, baby. Nothing at all else, except you were hugging me so tightly I felt crushed.”

As if scalded, the youngster jumped back even further. He really felt bad that his overzealous greeting physically hurt his mom.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry!” he apologized profusely, his eyes nervously darting around in evident self-condemnation.

Now Jackie felt bad. She moved toward him. He stepped back. Gently, she moved toward him again. A palm of hers went to the side of his worried face.

“Eddie, Eddie. It’s ok. I’m ok. I know you didn’t mean anything.”

He still seemed worried.

The astute woman, seeing this and realizing the root source of this whole evening, lightened the mood.

“You were just squeezing me so hard because you were happy to see me. That’s all. No harm, no foul.”

She comfortingly smiled at him.

He finally looked relieved.

“I AM glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

They viewed each other.

Parental anguish returned to Jacquelyn. She gazed at him with the empathy, sympathy, and concern generations of mothers have experienced when their c***d is hurt.

“How long will you stay?” he mumbled softly.

“I’m on vacation for two weeks. I packed for one, because I was rushing. I can stay for the two.”

“I’d like that.”

“Anything for you, my Steady Eddie,” she cooed his Little League nickname.

A feeble smile broke out on his face.

With a gentle thumb swipe, Mom removed a tear streaming down his cheek.

She broke the ensuing quiet with her comical sarcasm.

“So, you get tanked and sleep on my bed?” she jested while pointing to his living room sofa.

Ed recoiled.

“No, no, no! Mom, you’re not sleeping on the couch. You sleep in my room, in my bed.”

The phrase Mom… you sleep in my room, in my bed struck her. Despite noticing that his erection had dwindled, the prior incident made the phrase illicitly sizzle in her overwrought brain.

“No, honey. It’s ok. The couch is fine with me.”

He refused, raising his voice just a bit.

“Mom, you’re sleeping in my bed!”

For Jacquelyn, the unintentional taboo double-entendre increased the mental sizzle from just a moment ago. She acquiesced.

“Alright. I’ll sleep in your bed.”

“Good,” he said, pointing toward the small hallway.

“My bedroom is across from the john.”

She grinned warmly.

“Thanks, son.”

Then, Ed’s appearance dramatically changed. He didn’t look so good.

“I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom right now,” he said, placing a hand on his stomach.

“No, baby. Why?”

“Cause I’m going to hurl.”

His other hand covered his mouth and he took off like a gun shot down the hallway, hoping the toilet seat was up.

*

After he finished vomiting, Ed initially refused his mother’s help to clean himself up.

“I can do it!” he insisted when she leant him a supporting arm after he rinsed out his mouth.

After that he tried to walk on his own back to the living room. It didn’t happen, as he began to wobble and stumble. Jackie offered him the same arm again; this time Edward accepted the assistance. Once she got him close to the sofa he fell onto it. He slumped onto his back, and eventually got into a comfortable position.

A small gasp escaped from the MILF.

Ed’s arms were up, elbows bent, on either side of his head. Each hand was resting on that side of his face. His legs spread open, the right one bent, with the bare foot being placed on the rug. It caused his crotch to become prominent, the underwear material seductively hugging and encasing his cock and balls, displaying to Jackie its breathtaking, wondrous girth.

For the sex-starved mom, the site of the baseball-like lump—and who it belonged to—made her palpate.

He looked like a Playgirl centerfold, except for the jockey shorts.

Grudgingly, Jacquelyn tore her eyes from Ed’s ‘package’ to visually intake and devour the rest of the nearly nude specimen of prone, virile, and fine-looking masculinity.

Edward’s face was a combination of youth and almost male-model looks. His shoulders and pecs were broad and well-defined. His abdomen was displaying signs of becoming a 6-pack. His legs, especially the brawny thighs, showed that while not a committed bodybuilder, Young Morelli enjoyed a good, frequent workout.

Descriptions adoring his male sexuality came to Jacquelyn’s mind.

Mr. May.

Hermes… Mercury.

Perseus. (Ohhh, he could have access to my Kraken anytime!)

Jackie’s breathing became worse. Also her nipples were swelling, bursting with excitement, yearning for attention.

Her eyes fluttered. Her hands rubbed the side of her alluring, curvaceous body. She was tempted to caresses her big, heavy breasts, lovingly tweak the hardening nubs, and then tend to the needy, inflated labia along with the hot cavern they guarded.

Somehow she was able to resist masturbating.

“Ugghhh!” she quietly moaned, wondering how the hell this incredible stud, with an apparent pussy-pleasing dick, could be discarded so callously.

Barbara needs psychiatric care. Really.

Her eyes now were laser-focused on Ed’s flaccid penis.

It looks like a sleeping, sexy slug, hiding in some cheap pair of drawers, accompanied by a gargantuan pair of testicles which showcased beef and contained thick, sticky man-cream.

A dripping smudge of Jackie’s pearly ambrosia smeared her inner thigh.

Her descriptions morphed into possessives.

My Mr. May.

My Hermes…My Mercury.

My Perseus.

My sleeping, sexy slug.

“Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!,” she asthmatically puffered.

Within her own erotically self-induced, Kay Parker-like haze, a small, dissenting voice soon clamored.

That’s your son!

It was immediately countered by her simmering lust.

That’s right, that’s my son…my almost naked, studly son!

Jackie lasciviously moistened her lips; her eyes glued to Ed’s beefcake form.

The dissenter was soon aided by immense waves of guilt. It halted her wanton thoughts. Then the whole illicit scene was completely offset by the center of attraction himself.

Edward began snoring.

Jacquelyn chuckled. She felt both defeated and relieved. Her taboo titillation was repulsed by an influx of massive regret, and the sound of Edward loudly sleeping off his drunkenness.

She headed for his bedroom and crashed on top of his bed.

*

Eddie wasn’t steady when he awoke. In fact, he felt like Dracula in sunny California. When his eyes seemed like they could finally remain open, he glanced at the clock on the cable box above the TV. 10:47.

“Oooohhhh,” he moaned groggily in the late morning, with a pounding headache.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, desperately trying to remember anything about last night. He vaguely recalled answering the door when his mother arrived, then throwing up in the bathroom. ‘Worshiping at the porcelain altar’ he unfortunately remembers in all its horrendous glory. Standing up and stretching, he walked to the kitchen. Ed stopped in the archway.

Jacquelyn was bent over the kitchen sink cleaning pots and pans. She did not hear him behind her.

She was wearing Barbara’s New York Giants jersey. It was Phil Simms’ #11.

Seeing an overlooked piece of clothing his now ex-girlfriend forgot to take brought back the hurt.

What the fuck is that blue rag still doing here? How the fuck could Mom be wearing THAT shirt?!

Of course Ed knew that his mother didn’t know who the jersey’s former owner was. Still he was about to voice is self-centered displeasure when, on the angle he was standing at, he caught sight of her movement in the jersey. Lost for words, he had to blink at what he just witnessed. He shook his head and blinked again, and simply leered.

Jackie’s large, ripe breasts swung freely within the loose jersey confines as she scrubbed. Their slightly pendulous circling and shaking made for some provocative shadows along the fabric, and revealed to Ed that his mother wasn’t wearing a bra.

Humming sweetly to herself and still unaware of her audience, Ms. Morelli shifted the stance of her bare, supple legs which caused the hem of the Giants shirt to rise up her equally curvaceous lower body and stretch across her very ample butt.

The visually-captivated son moved his eyes from his mom’s rack to her ass. He blinked again.

The jersey was scandalously tight over the two luscious, fleshy, flexing cheeks. It was evident she was wearing underwear, judging from the panty lines, though Ed could tell they were skimpy. The shirt edge was precariously covering Jacquelyn’s bottom. Another inch upward and Ed would see the lower contours of her buttocks.

Out of the corner of his eye, the leering c***d caught sight of her flaying ponytail. Ed LOVED a woman in a ponytail. It turned him on immensely. Considering the way he was presently viewing his mom, it just seemed salaciously natural for this to complete his unsavory image of Jackie.

Added to all this was the undeniable fact that Jacquelyn was a replica of a young Lynda Carter

It was the initial stirrings of his penis which startled him from his taboo trance.

Dude! That’s your mother! was the hard-hitting, self-condemning realization which struck his thinking.

Edward felt monumental remorse. He was looking at his unsuspecting mother in such an illicitly lewd manner. Then the remorse became filth again, viewing her as his goddess-like MILF, clad in a football jersey, and wispy panties, sporting a ponytail.

While his tormented mind was going back and forth, Jackie got the feeling she was being watched. She looked over her shoulder to see Ed.

“Heyyyyy, sleepy-head!” she merrily chirped.

When Jackie turned completely around to face her only c***d, he got an incredible eyeful. Her beautiful face and eyes were bright with happiness, while her smile was beaming. Then it lecherously got better. Her voluminous, unhindered tits swung around under the jersey, displaying just a hint of nipple erection.

The shirt’s front hem revealed that its covering was just as paltry as that of the rear. Her luscious thighs were slightly parted, causing Eddie to wish he was that space of floor below them. Her legs were long and went on forever, while her bare feet where comely accented by her red toenail polish.

“Good morning,” he chortled.

“And good morning to you! How do you feel?”

He cleared his throat.

“Like I got Dumbo sitting on my head.”

“Watch out for the elephant shit,” she razzed.

The son rolled his eyes.

“I don’t suppose you’re hungry,” she said.

“You suppose correctly,”

Jackie cast a glance at the kitchenware she was cleaning in the sink.

“By the way, when was the last time you or your father cleaned these pots and pans—Groundhog Day?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he snorted. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Leaning into him, she pretended to smell something bad and made overdramatic snorts near her him.

“The sooner, the better!” she broke his chops.

He waved his hand dismissively and turned around for the bathroom.

“Oh,” she started, “you don’t have to worry about the prom. You’re still going, and you’re not going alone.”

Upon hearing this unfathomable declaration, Ed stopped in his tracks and spun around to gawk at her.

“What?!”

“I’ll tell you when you finish cleaning up.”

“But, but,” he stuttered, dying to know what was going on. He stopped his prodding when he saw a dead-serious look in his mother’s eyes, which were in the direction of the bathroom, aided by her pointing finger.

“After your shower,” she stated in a measured and heavily authoritative tone.

Ed slinked off to the bathroom.

*

When he returned to the kitchen, at his table place was a steaming cup of black coffee. Ed felt better after the shower. His improvement continued with the first toss-back of Folgers.

“Ahhhh! Thanks,” he raved.

She was sitting across from him, smirking.

“You’re welcome.”

The son took another belt of java then looked at her. He no longer cared that she was still in the Giants shirt.

“So,” he began, “what’s this I’m-still-going-to-the-prom-and-I’m-not-going-alone which you alluded to?”

“You’re still going to the prom…with me as your date.”

Ed was brining the coffee cup up to his mouth, moving his head back when he heard her statement. He reversed himself, sent the cup back onto the table and his head forward.

“What?”

He looked at her in total disbelief.

“Are you k**ding me?”

“What do you mean?” she inquired, faintly defensive and slighted.

“You’re my mom.”

“You always had a knack for the obvious.”

“I can’t take you.”

“Why—because I’m your mom?”

“Yeah!” he answered, wanting to have started his response with ‘Duh!’

“So? No one here or at your school knows me.”

Eddie shook his head, not believing what he was hearing.

Jacquelyn had a low tolerance for nonsense. She leaned forward, folded her arms on the table, and gave him a very serious glare.

“Look, Edward, do you want to go to the prom?”

Exasperatedly he said “yes.”

“Ok, so you want to go to the prom still. Good. Now, wouldn’t be nice to do that while simultaneously getting payback from Barbara?”

His head jerked back at the unexpected but welcomed notion.

Mentally he chimed in with the plan.

“Mom! You’re a genius!”

Sitting back, she coolly concurred.

“A beautiful genius.”

He chuckled and agreed.

“Yes, yes. A beautiful genius.”

She glanced toward the kitchen phone. The number 7 was flashing on the message monitor.

“Word got out fast about the breakup. People have been calling all morning, leaving messages. They feel bad about it. You should let them know you’re hurt but ok.”

“I will.”

“Ed, listen to me,” she directed.

He did so, attentively.

“If they ask you whether or not you’re going to the prom, just say you’re not sure.”

Ed nodded in agreement.

“My thought process is for you to leave everyone in the dark. All your friends and classmates know you’ve been wounded. You have…been wounded. But you and I are going to take that wound and turn it into a win!”

Eddie loved this type of encouragement. He heard it from his sophomore hockey coach, especially when as goalie he gave up the winning goal.

“I love it, Mom.”

She nodded and sat back in chair.

“It would be easier if I just tore Barbara a new a-hole, physically speaking,” she stated, all-too-brutally honest.

“That would probably be i*****l.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jackie comically yielded.

She looked intently at him.

“I would do it, you know,” she stated without hesitation or second thought.

“I know, Mom,” he commented with sincere gratitude. “But afterward I would have to spend time and money posting bail for you, then get you a lawyer.”

Jackie shrugged her shoulders.

“Thanks, though,” he said.

She grinned.

I’ll wait a while, to let him marinate in the idea of me being his prom date. Then I have to tell him what has to be done next. I’ll do that after dinner tonight.

*

“We need to practice what?!” he questioned loudly and with even more disbelief than in the morning.”

The two had just finished cleaning up after supper and were having coffee in the living room when she informed him of the next step.

“We need to kiss like lovers in front of everyone. So we should practice,” she repeated matter-of-factly.

“Why?!”

“It will ensure creditability that I am a ‘genuine’ date and not a hooker you’re passing off as your date.”

Once again, his mother’s words and logic were on point, given the situation. It just still was a tough pill to swallow for Ed who was looking at the ceiling, shaking his head.

“Hey, you think it’s a cakewalk for me?” she semi-jokingly zinged him.

The lad’s bewilderment was dented by feeling just a bit offended.

“Why am I ugly?” he asked in a huff.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” was her coquettish comeback.

Slapping his forehead, Ed closed his eyes then opened them and looked at Jackie.

“Noooo!”

She sighed, feigning relief.

“Alright,” he relented. “When do you want to practice—now I guess?”

“Yeah, now would be good, especially since we’re both just sitting here chilling out.”

Still not believing what was about to transpire, he sat closer to her on the sofa. She had to restrain herself from chuckling at his befuddlement, while self-admitting she herself was tense about this practice session.

Mother and son’s faces moved closer to each other. Apprehensively, they looked at each other. Despite their hesitancy, they were both on auto-pilot for the set-up of a kiss. It was just the familial aspect which made it a rocky set-up. Their mouths were near each other, hovering, like two boxers seizing each other up and neither making the first move.

She could tell he was more nervous then her. That and realizing this was her plan she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Her eyes closed, while his became wide like Frisbees.

Both of their minds instantly were overloaded with the gravity of what was happening.

Then, as the wet touch of her mouth against his became an odd familiarity, his eyes lowered closed. A matching energy level rose from him; he kissed back.

The smooch was a mere few seconds and rather tame, though definitely not your usual chaste parent-c***d peck. As they broke away, there was a loud smack. They were both surprised at the unexpected pleasantness of the unorthodox kiss.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, sounding just a tad out of breath.

“No,” he dreamily agreed.

The two looked at each other in a way neither would have imagined a few days earlier.

“I, I think that’s enough practice for the first night,” he managed to croak.

“Yeah, I agree.”

They were both lost for words. Their mutual gaze continued, each one silently asking questions yet agreeing with the mild likability of the event.

“I’m going to take a shower and turn in early,” Ed announced.

“Ok. I’ll wash the cups, then probably do the same thing.”

He got up off the couch and turned to head for the hallway for the bathroom. He looked back at Jackie, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him.

“You’re not a bad kisser, Mom.”

A soft, appreciative smile appeared on her face.

“You’re pretty decent yourself.”

He returned the smile.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Eddie.”

*

The following morning, any anticipated or expected jitteriness between mother and son surprisingly never materialized. Once again she was up before Ed, had her breakfast, then prepared scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with butter, and coffee for him.

It wasn’t too long after that he stumbled into the kitchen.

“’ morning, Mom.”

“Good morning!”

They exchanged a standard mother-son morning kiss on opposing facial cheeks.

“Wow!” he exclaimed at the sight of the sumptuous meal readied for him. “Thanks!”

She beamed enthusiastically.

“You’re welcome, Eddie.”

Jackie savored her second cup of Folgers while he consumed his breakfast as if he was just rescued from a desert island.

“Take human bites.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he replied with a mouthful of food, some of it falling back on the plate as he spoke.

She chuckled and shook her head.

He lowered his eyes and shoveled another pallet-like amount of breakfast into his moving jaws.

The two had always teetered between parent and c***d, and buddies. They could talk virtually about anything. Or, break each other’s chops.

“Even though he’s not even finished with his first term, reports say President Clinton will run again in 1996,” she announced.

Jackie knew her boy didn’t like politics. She wasn’t a fan either. She just wanted to needle him.

“BOORING!” he managed to exclaim before washing down his meal with more coffee.

The mom chuckled, then went on.

“Hey, are you ok about last night?”

“Yeah,” was his straightforward reply.

She felt relieved, but wanted reassurance.

“You sure?”

Ed sincerely had no regrets or ill-feelings about their extraordinary kiss last night. He put down his knife and fork, and reached over to Jacquelyn’s hand. He pulled it toward his mouth, kissed the knuckles and then soulfully looked at her.

“Yes.” He paused. “Are YOU ok?”

After the chivalrous kiss and his genuine stare, she raspily answered.

“Yeah.”

Eddie smiled.

“Good!”

They gazed at each other, smiling warmly.

“Well since I cooked you a magnificent breakfast and offered to go to jail for you, I think a proper response would be for you to clean the table and wash everything.”

As if gravely upset, Ed exhaled, then smiled.

“Sounds fair,” he agreed.

After he finished washing the plates and cups, Edward walked into the living room. He chuckled at seeing his mother scanning the room, appearing as if she didn’t know what next to do.

“Ok, I dusted this room. I will do the others in just a bit,” she said. “Where do you keep your vacuum?”

“What’s a vacuum?”

She jokingly leered at him with an evil eye.

“It’s in the closet by my, er, your room.”

Jackie looked at him disbelievingly.

“I didn’t see anything when I looked in there.”

“Did you look under all the boxes?” he asked.

“Oh. You mean that cluttered part of the corner which could use the Red Cross and disaster relief funding? No. I didn’t check. I feared for my life.”

She grinned sarcastically.

He laughed, taking the dig in stride.

“Well, you’re going to fear for your life now!”

Ed comically rushed toward Jackie.

“Keep away!” she howled in mock worry.

“Ha-ha,” he snickered, taking her into his arms.

Jacquelyn pretended to want to break away from Ed’s clutches. She squirmed, in make believe horror of being held captive. In reality she relished it. She loved the emotional and sentimental aspects of being held within a man’s caring and loving arms. The current fact that it was her grown son’s arms she was in didn’t matter.

“So, you don’t want me to continue cleaning up this disaster zone you call your home?” she guffawed.

“You have all the time in the world to clean this place.”

“Actually, I have one--two weeks,” she replied with realism.

“Whatever.”

They looked at each other, grinning.

“Hey! Why don’t we take a drive upstate?” Ed suggested. “It’s gorgeous today. Then stop off for lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Several minutes later Jackie and Eddie were in his deep purple Dodge Viper, heading upstate to northern New York.

The two drove up to Bear Mountain, savoring and enjoying the splendid weather, with the windows down and radio cranked to the local rock station. They stopped on the return trip to Orisni’s of Italy, a southern Italian restaurant, and enjoyed the cuisine immensely.

*

Jacquelyn and Edward were virtually inseparable. They barely left the apartment. She hadn’t seen him since the prior Christmas Eve. The two had started getting caught up with their individual lives and goals, along with her work as an office manager and his post-graduation plans.

Their daytime was spent primarily watching TV, more upstate drives, and the two enjoying the strange new world called The Internet on his Gateway desktop computer.

Alternate evenings he cooked for. She doted on him incessantly. They watched videos and shows at night, usually curled up together. She would playfully nestle her head against his chest while he gingerly ran his fingers through her lush hair. When it was time for sleep, they kissed “good night”—fully on the lips.

By the fifth night Jackie and Ed, after going to bed, really pondered about what was happening between them. They were individually left alone with their thoughts and impressions. They both realized that their relationship had changed in a direction most would consider odd. Neither cared that the way they smooched or acted together would be thought as highly unusual.

Jacqueline deemed she was caring for her jilted son. His hurt and vulnerability allowed her to enjoy the things she loved doing in a relationship: being supportive, caring, and encouraging. She displayed these traits often during her marriage. With that gone, the opportunity to “be there” for Eddie during his breakup made her happy.

She especially relished their nocturnal TV time, watching a show or movie, snuggled over popcorn and soda. It was a returning delight for her to be in the safe, cozy arms of an attentive man.

She would be extremely hard-pressed to admit it but she secretly had loved the naughtiness of viewing her handsome son almost bare, seeing his erect penis, and the breadth of his crotch that first night. She reasoned to herself that it was an illicit thrill and defended it by not haven’t been fucked in two years. She furthered concluded that she had the ability to stifle her own excitement by chastising herself that this was her son.

Edward loved the healing balm his mother was giving him. Since his folks’ divorce and his father’s constant traveling, many times for months, he was glad and grateful to have his mom back in his life with her care and exclusive attention to him, especially now during this sorrowful time.

He felt so lucky to have her make meals, bring him a coffee or soda, and essentially have him as the center of her world. He too loved their cuddling on the couch.

Ed was different in his self-criticism of his changing view of his mom. It didn’t bother him as much. This was set off by several events. First was the morning when he saw her in the Giants jersey, bent over the sink, and her MILF body’s alluring curves moving and grooving. There was their first unique kiss. Then, two nights later he experienced his first wet dream since he was ten. His bawdy brain used the morning after Jacquelyn arrived at the apartment as a setting and turned it into a scene which would have made Honey Wilder proud.

I awoke and made my way to the kitchen entrance.

Mom was bent over the kitchen sink cleaning pots and pans. She did not hear or see me.

She was wearing Barbara’s old Giants jersey.

She also seemed not to be wearing anything under the jersey.

This I unchastely deduced from the free-swaying movements of her humongous tits as she scrubbed, along with the absence of panty lines that would have been present on the shirt’s bottom portion which was scandalously taut over her heart-shaped ass.

I was lost for words, having to blink at what I was watching. I shook my head and blinked again, then simply leered.

Her hair was also in a ponytail which I found EXTREMELY sexy.

Added to all this was the undeniable fact that Mom was a dead ringer for TV’s Wonder Woman.

All the while I privately, lustily enjoyed seeing my mother as a hot goddess, my prick awoke and steadily became erect. Not once during my viewing or hardening did I feel any guilt. I felt no shame or disgrace.

I felt only lust—unquenchable, massive, burning lust for my mom. The i****tuous aspect only propelled, only fueled, my carnality to unimaginable heights. It also made my fully extended manhood throb. My cock ached, quivered for my mother…my divorced, bombshell mother.

I didn’t care about society or anything else. She was hurt by Dad, just like Barbara hurt me. Mom came to comfort me. I want to comfort her. I want to comfort her, in a special way. It’s a way which would be a perfect remedy for her masturbating in the shower last night.

I heard her when I was going to provide her with the fresh towels she deserved but I forgot to supply when she arrived. As I stood at the closed bathroom door with the clean linen, her moans were punctuated over the descending shower water.

“Ohhhhh!”

“Ahhhh, so goooood!”

I was riveted but not by some odd and filthy attraction. I was kept in place by pity and hatred. I felt bad that Mom had to resort to self-pleasure because Dad serially cheated on her and they divorced because of it. I hated my father for his infidelity.

“Ugh! Ugh! I’m cum—“

Time for me to split.

Remorsefully and out of respect for her, I bolted from the doorway as quickly and quietly as possible.

But now, this very moment, seeing my mother Jacqueline in such a sexy and inviting position, emboldened me. I felt such a profound oedipal rush. Consensually fucking my ‘physically’ neglected, hottie parent would be not only a cure-all for her. It would be a benefit for me as well. My ex girlfriend had been blue-balling me for a month.
I silently glided toward her.

“Good morning,” I softly greeted, leaning into her.

“Good morning, Eddie,” she managed to reply as my thick, hard, pulsating cock was nestled along her ass-groove while I inclined to give her an innocent peck on her left facial cheek.

I could feel her entire body tense up, recognizing the heavy feel of my underwear-covered erection against her bottom.

“Is, is that a roll of quarters or are you just happy to see me?” she desperately, worriedly quipped.

“I’m happy to see you.”

I paused, then made a seductive admission.

“I was also just thinking about last night. I heard you in the shower.”

Her physical tension continued. As did her apprehension.

“What, what were you doing outside the bathroom while I showered?!” Her tonality was a mix of fear and parental authority.

“I was going to give you fresh towels.”

She was quiet, then hung her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you heard me, Ed.”

She paused.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be neither sorry nor embarrassed.”

I kissed the back of her head. Then I began to see-saw my steely member along her ass-crack.

I could hear a very low guttural, a****listic growl from her. Then it was the beginnings of a feeble protest.

“Ugh, Ed, you sho—“

My excitement got the better of me. I bent my knees so the bulbous top of my rod was now sensually under the curvature of Wonder Woman’s delectable ass.

“Ohhhhh!” she gasped, much more audibly.

I rubbed myself against her.

“Dad was an utter fool!” I hissed, readjusting my stance so that only my Fruit of the Looms stood between my penile flesh and the opening to my mother’s vagina.

“Yeah?” she asked, sounding dazed and a bit eager.

“Yeah!” I quickly, carnally, urgently agreed. “You are smoking hot, Mom!”

Jacquelyn glanced over shoulder at me. Her eyes appeared somewhat glassy.

“Even, so Eddie, I’m not so sure you should be doing this.”

Judging from the sound of her voice and no outright physical rejection, I’d say Mom’s genuine distaste for my dry-humping her couldn’t fill a thimble.

“Why is that?” I asked, playing along.

“I’m your mother,” she stated in a very husky tone. “You shouldn’t be doing what you’re …ohhh…doing…”

There was brief silence as she slowly twirled her head around while releasing a short groan before continuing.

“…rubbing yourself against me like this…it’s so wrong… especially when you’re excited…ugh!.”

She looked at me in way which can only be described as flirtatious.

“I’m your mother, Eddie, and you shouldn’t…ahhhh…It’s, it’s…oh!...it’s wrong!”

Another soft moan escaped her lips.

“Soooo wrong!”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “This is wrong!.”

I dislodged myself from her and in an instant, stripped off my underwear, kicking it to the side so she could see it. I grinned to myself when I saw her cast a fast glance at the discarded jockey shorts.

Once again I bent my knees and slipped my hard, excited cock upward so that the mushroom-shaped top rubbed against her pussy lips…her exceptionally moist, and bloated pussy lips.

Mom grunted like a gorilla in the jungle when my helmet nudged against the opening of her simmering cunt.

“This is so much better!” I declared, taking hold of her flaring hips, preparing to enter her.

Damn, how I wanted to just drive in and start banging my good-looking parent. My need to seduce won out.

“Mom! I’m surprised at you! You’re not wearing any panties!” I exclaimed in fake horror.

“Argh!” she groaned, placing both of her palms firmly on the kitchen counter before offering a mild, contrarian shriek.

“Ed—Ed, control yourself, please!”

It didn’t help her case that she had just spread her legs and she was on her tippy-toes.

“Mom, how can you expect me to control myself? You were playing with yourself last night in my shower. You’re wearing nothing now but an old football jersey bent over the sink like some sexy cat. You’re a MILF, a walking wet dream, and my drop-dead gorgeous mother. All this and just the thought… of fucking you…”

I slowly pushed my dick forward, the cap and two inches easily passing in between the pliable folds, entering her tight, warm, buttery slit.

“Ugggh!” she grunted, this time louder.

“…the forbiddeness…”

Another inch eased in.

“Ohhhh!” Mom groaned loudly.

“…the immense pleasure waiting for both of us…”

The upper 2/3 of my lengthy shaft was quickly welcomed by the rippling of her inner sex.

My breathing was very labored.

“…it’s all too much for me to control.”

“Aaahhh! Ed, son!”

I was almost entirely inside her.

“Don’t, don’t,” she huskily stammered, “don’t stop!”

I found the last two words a cross between a plea and a command.

When my swaying balls clanged against her pouch, I wailed.

“Oh fuck!”

I knew my erection was completely within my mother’s slick, sizzling pussy. I tossed my head back, eyes closed.

“Oh fuck!” I repeated.

My penis couldn’t get over the ferally sensual, captivating world it was now in. The creamy heat, the exquisite tautness, the rainy wetness, the caressing grip of the most forbidden cunt on the planet—it all was an incomprehensible marvel!

She came down from her tiptoes. Her curvy, delicious ass pushed back and we took off. I proceeded to fuck my beautiful, nearly naked mother!

“Ohhh, Eddie! Don’t, d-don’t stop!” she panted as I steadily built up my thrusting. “Don’t stop!”

The initial pounding waves were not hard-hitting but methodical surgical strikes. I was revolving my hips at an unvarying pace, sliding my hard, horny prick into the broiling depths of my mom’s sweet, vise-like slit.

“Shit, ma! You’re so fucking tight! I love it!”

Her vagina greedily clutched and caressed my lunging shaft. Her sodden nook and elastic vaginal muscles covetously slurped my dick as it moved forward and backward. Each onward and rearward action was greeted with an increasing shower of maternal nectar.

“Ugh! Oh!” she moaned. “Fuck me, baby! I need it so bad! Fuck your mommy!”

I slipped my horny hands under the football shirt and cupped her bare, jiggling tits. I squeezed the bountiful pair, feeling, enjoying their heavy, hanging lusciousness.

“Argh!” she bellowed.

She whimpered when I tweaked the fat, berry-like nipples.

Eventually I redirected my hands to her hips. Then I increased the pounding, delivering fast and deep jabs into this forbidden babe’s syrupy channel.

“Oh! Oh! Ahhh! Yes! Yes! Fuck me like that, son! Harder! Fuck your momma! Fuck meeeee harder!

The dirty-talk had me turn on the jets, becoming a whirlwind, pummeling wildly and hedonistically. We were both sweating and, with her juices coating my cock’s hyper-speed motions, wet and slapping sounds echoed in the kitchen.

My mother looked over her shoulder again.. Her eyes were almost closed and her full lips were in a lewd “O” shape. The eyelids fluttered open.

“Kiss me,” she begged (ordered?).

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. We hungrily, sinfully kissed, allowing our tongues to meet for the first time.

“You fuck mommy so good!” she panted. “So, so FUCKING GOOD!”

That illicitly amorous compliment sent me into overdrive. I was banging Mom now as if I wanted to push her through the kitchen wall. I perpetually, vigorously shoved my concrete, throbbing cock into her weeping gash.

About a minute later, she hollered, “I’m cumming!”

My cougar peak, her luscious, sweaty body convulsing like a lunatic, while her pussy mightily squeezed and gushed all over my erection.

“Ohhhh! Eddie! Yes! Yes! Yesssss!”

Shortly after that I made my complimenting announcement.

“Mom, I’m going cum!”

In the final throes of her glorious crescendo, she looked at me with eyes wide open.

“Cum inside me!”

I gazed at her with a lecherous, knowing, look.

“Cum inside mommy! Give all your scum to mommy!”

As if I was going to argue with such an illicitly erogenous demand, she shoved her fleshy, ass globes back at my phallus. Then I ejaculated.

When my first load was howitzered forward, I thought for a second I was going to black out. I never had a lay this phenomenally intense and torrid.

“Aaarrgghhhhhh!” I groaned, holding onto her ample hips.

My fit body violently lurched as I unloaded cord after cord of thick, hot, white semen into Mom’s wanting, ever-blazing pussy.

When I—we—were done, I was lying on top of her back, both of us resting and getting our breathing to a normal rate. Soon I got up off her, my perspired front getting divorced from her drenched back and rear. I could hear the little “plop” as my now-deflated dick was evicted from its sloshy home.

I stepped back. She turned around. We dreamily looked at each other. She put her arms around my neck; I placed my hands at her sides.

“Eddie, that was the best fuck I ever had.”

I smiled good-naturedly. She thought I didn’t believe her.

“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass.”

I remained grinning.

She smacked my left buttock.

“I’ll really blow smoke up your ass if you want!”

I laughed.

“No, no, thanks. I believe you, Mom. Thank you.”

We languidly, romantically kissed, our tongues getting sensually reacquainted.

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, Mom.”

Then she made a face, stepping away. I was puzzled. She swiped a hand between her thighs and returned with a copious amount of my jizz which I could see was dripping down to the back of her inner thigh.

She flashed a devilish smirk, then sauntered to the sink. I watched as Mom put her creamy fingers into the half-full cup, swirling them around, then drink the coffee.

“One less thing to buy at the store,” she gingerly quipped.

*

The evening before the prom, Jacquelyn combined all of her business savvy, motherly instincts and Italian flair for settling scores, and worked over the specifics for the dance. She and Ed were at the table talking.

“What’s my name?” she asked, sounding like a battlefield general prepping the troops for a major campaign.

“Lynda.”

She giggled.

“Do I look that much like her?”

“Yes,” he responded instantly and emphatically, “but you’re wayyyyy better looking!”

Jacquelyn’s head jumped back from the quick and resolute answer.

“Thank you,” she demurely said.

Mother and son looked at each other in a way, which for them, had become normal. He broke the quiet.

“Everything you’ve done for me—coming out here late at night, comforting me, standing in as my prom date, cleaning up the place, preparing meals, sharing your vacation with me, everything. YOU’RE my Wonder Woman, Mom!”

The out-of-left-field compliment hit Jackie like a home-run swing. It especially affected her emotionally desolate heart. Her lips began to quiver as she fought back the tears.

“Oh, Eddie! Thank you.”

The young man smiled warmly.

“You’re welcome. But I should be thanking you.”

One tear managed to escape her defenses. It slid down her cheek.

“I love you, son.”

“I love you, mom.”

Their faces leaned forward to each other. They kissed, fully on the lips. It was an emotional lip-lock. Then their foreheads met, both sighing.

“Um, where were we?” she inquired, sounding absentminded.

“Lynda,” he repeated, himself sounded a bit winded.

“Where do you know me from?”

“When my folks lived in Queens.”

*

In the late afternoon the next day, Jacquelyn and Ed started their preparation. They both agreed to let him go first in the bathroom to shower and shave. She waited in the living room. When she heard the door open she turned to look down the hallway and caught a flash of her son’s naked ass whizz by into the bedroom and the door locked.

Despite the distance and the dimly lit corridor, a cheeky thought came to mind.

Nice buns.

Fifteen minutes later the bedroom door clicked open. He stood in the living room archway.

“Well, mom, how do I look?”

The brunette glanced up from the TV. She did a double take, soon after which she emitted a low-sounding gasp. She voiced her immediate thought.

“Ed, you look magnificently handsome!”

Jacquelyn’s son, his recently cropped, dark brown hair looking full and styled, was in a classic black tuxedo. It was single-breasted with sateen lapels, double-pleated pants with a sateen strip. His black bowtie looked great against the white shirt, which had gold cuff links. A red pocket square and black shoes so shiny they looked like mirrors completed the picture.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Jacquelyn stood up and moved in front of him. A foot shorter than him, she was beaming, taking in how fine her son looked all dressed up. She placed a palm on his chest.

“Without a doubt, I am going to have the best-looking man on my arm tonight!”

“Thank you,” he confidently replied.

They kissed.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said and headed to the bathroom.

*

After a quick shower and taking a while to get dressed, Jackie announced herself.

“Close your eyes!”

Edward, sitting in the living room, did as advised. He heard heels clicking in the hallway.

“Ok, you can open them!”

When he did, the lad was amazed.

His mother stood before him in a royal blue lace dress. It was floor-length, mermaid, sleeveless, backless, with a jewel neckline and a provocative split in the front which went way above the knees. The gown did a dazzling job in showcasing her hour-glass figure. Sporting her raven mane in a French twist, little hairs falling from the sides, and 5 inch blue suede pumps, Jacquelyn was a fusion of female beauty: elegance and sexiness.

“Mom,” he began, jumping off the recliner, “you look utterly breath-taking!”

Standing in front of her, his eyes immediately were drawn to the split which showcased her long, naked leg. His eyes flickered to her face, then dropped down to her cleavage. The dress neckline pushed her braless breasts together, making them even larger, with the deep valley between giving the Grand Canyon competition.

The stunner watched as her only c***d appreciated her as a woman. He didn’t seem to be secretive about gazing at her visually-enticing leg and chest. Again, the thrill of the forbidden was savored by Jackie.

At that moment a car horn sounded. It was their limousine.

The couple headed for the door and stepped outside. After he locked up the apartment, Edward lovingly took Jacquelyn’s hand and they glided to the baby powder white Excalibur limo.

The chauffeur smiled, greeted them “Good evening,” and politely opened the door for them.

When the stretch pulled away from the curb Edward pushed the button for the window partition. Now that he and his date had privacy, they gazed at each other.

They kissed. No tongue, but a lot of emotions, especially apprehension.

*

“Holy shit, Ed! Dude! You made it!” happily exclaimed one of Young Morelli’s classmates.

Edward sauntered in, exuding immense confidence, with his mermaid-dressed mother, his arm tightly around her waist.

As word rapidly got out that he did in fact show up for the prom—with a beautiful, mature date, no less—Ed received similar greetings and accolades from close friends and school contemporaries.

The comments were vast.

“Glad you came!”, “Who is this beautiful lady?”, and—privately: “Man! Barbara drops you and you walk in with this older fox? Fucking A! Good for you, Ed!”

Jacquelyn had to suppress a chuckle when she heard one of them say, “Eddie, you’re my hero!” and another state “Talk about upgrading! You went from a Ford to a Ferrari! Fucking awesome, b*o!”

She felt an incredible rush. Seeing how her son’s coequals were happy for his overcoming the last-minute, heart-wrenching breakup by coming to the prom after all. She also felt a little heady from all the male compliments and glances.

Barbara, from afar, had witnessed her ex’s entrance—with a date. She was stunned. She didn’t expect him to show. Barbara knew the breakup was entirely self-centered. She couldn’t get over how quickly Ed was able to rebound with just not a substitute but with a woman, and not another girl.

She looked at Max. He knew about what she did and had also viewed Morelli’s triumphant entrance. He simply shrugged at Barbara.

As classmates, friends, and their dates peppered them with questions and compliments, Ed and Jackie scanned the gymnasium for his former girlfriend. Almost at the same time they spotted her. He flashed her a knowing smile which really meant “Fuck you!,” while his mother pointed at the little heartbreaker and gave her the middle finger.

This got an approving roar from the crowd.

Barbara’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. Then her head slumped because deep down she knew the woman was right for doing that.

Everyone else’s attention returned to the newly-arrived couple.

“So, how do you two know each other?” one schoolmate inquired.

She took this one.

“I am friend of the family from when they lived in Queens”

“I guess Ed, you contacted Lynda after…” Tony, one of Ed’s closest friends, began wondering.

“Yeah,” he answered, sipping on some punch. “I’ve know this lovely lady pretty much all my life. She had mixed emotions when I called—she felt bad about the breakup…and happy that I was 18 and legal so we could date now!”

This got a howl of laughter from the crowd around them along with several approving applause.

Jacquelyn blushed.

Ed looked at her and with a smile, gently pulled her into him. They kissed, in front of the adoring throng who released a chorus of “Ohhhhhh!”

The lip-lock was a bit stronger than their usual kiss. The two were on an endorphin high. The culmination was the end-result of her plan for payback and dark-horse success for Edward. Judging by everyone’s response, including Barbara’s, Jackie’s design for the prom was a rousing victory.

As for each other, the apprehension Eddie and Jackie felt when they left the apartment had been incredibly tempered and replaced by a flippant, we’ll-worry-about-it-later attitude.

After 15-20 minutes of mingling, chatting and sipping punch, the brunette heard the start of a favorite tune. The opening, “Yeah, yeah!”, from Salt 'N' Pepa’s Whatta Man (feat. En Vogue) sounded from the speakers.

“You’ll have to excuse us, folks,” Jackie announced to their ‘fans’, putting down on the nearby table her