How I Shocked Our Mother — Part 1

“Oh my god, what are you two doing?!” my mother shrieked.

I looked up, dumb with shock. Unfortunately I was precariously perched above my sister, her legs on my shoulders. Even more damning, my cock was quite visibly sticking halfway inside of her, though at sound of the door flying open and the shriek that followed, all the blood in that particular extremity was doing its utmost to return to more pertinent areas of my body, such as my heart which had decided to get a head start on the marathon it’d evidently decided I was about to run.

But let’s back up a bit, a lot of things happened before this point. They say that when you’re about to die your life flashes before your eyes, let’s call this that.

Let us begin at a time when all was still right in my world, say eight or nine months prior to what shall henceforth be referred to as “the incident.” We can start with the basics. My name is Jason. My sister, whom I introduced earlier as an anonymous pair of legs, is named Kimmy. My room does not have a lock. My mother has a habit of not knocking. Those things will come to haunt me later, but for now, they are just random facts in the tapestry of my life. In the less hectic timeframe we are revisiting I am sixteen.

I’d just gotten my license a few months back, roughly two weeks after my birthday. This was, unfortunately, cooler in theory than in practice. There was no car I could drive, I couldn’t buy my own, and I couldn’t afford insurance even if some distant relative keeled over and left me a 1957 Mustang. I mention this only because it explains a bit about what happened next. And because I continue to wish, with no ill will toward anonymous hypothetical relatives, that someone in the family would die and leave me the aforementioned car.

It was lunch time at school. The cafeteria was cordoned off into groups of cliques. To sit at a table with whom you did not click was to invite ridicule and shame. But these are not things that a bold young man fears. The homecoming dance was taking place in three weeks. Despite my best efforts, I still didn’t have a date. Ridicule and shame was one thing, but imagine the consequences of going dateless?

With as much courage as I could muster I walked across the cafeteria towards an exclusively female table. Sitting in the middle of this gathering was an angel with blond hair. Her name was Lisa. In my eyes she represented everything that was perfection. Her butt looked perfect in her jeans and her lipstick was colored on inside the lines. She was a sophomore. I was a junior. That meant I was the cool one, right? That was my mindset as I approached her anyway.

“Lisa? Can I have a word?” I asked in a voice that was, perhaps, a shade lower than was naturally honest.

“Do I know you?” she asked. The girls around her giggled in a coordinated attack on my cool.

“No,” I answered, “but I hope that won’t stop you from going with me to the homecoming dance.” The surrounding giggles reached an entirely new pitch.

“No way, Lisa, he doesn’t even have a car,” said a voice. I looked over to identify my antagonist. I was expecting horns and a pitchfork, but instead I saw barrettes and lip gloss. Kimmy. The barrettes held waves of curly red hair in check. She had a pouty mouth which was twisted in a smirk. The twinkle in her blue eyes might have been attractive in other circumstances, but certainly not then. I stared daggers at her, but they were easily deflected by the impenetrable layer of smug that surrounded her.

“Uh… sorry, I, um, already have a date,” Lisa lied awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it,” I replied a little too quickly. I gave Kimmy one last glare and stalked off to an empty table. There I sat and brooded.

“Aw, did you get shot down?” Kimmy asked in simpering voice as she sat beside me. She was only a year younger than me. Unfortunately for my love life, she also had the same lunch schedule.

“You know, you really can be a bitch sometimes,” I said.

“Hey! I’m a lady, watch your mouth, you remember what dad always says,” she warned with a passable impression of dignity. My dad was very much in the women-can-do-no-wrong camp. But I was no such knight in shining armor. I couldn’t have afforded the horse insurance anyway.

“A lady? Don’t they usually have…,” I leaned forward and made a show of unzipping Kimmy’s hoody, “breasts?” She smacked my hand away.

“For your information, I have perfect breasts. And anyway if it weren’t for the internet you probably wouldn’t even know what breasts looked like. You definitely won’t be seeing boobs anytime soon if that back there was the best you can do.”

“I’ve seen plenty of boobs,” I muttered. “And what was wrong with my pickup line? I just asked Lisa to the dance. I think what really bombed me back there was your insult dropping.”

“Please, with Lisa? You had no chance, I just saved you from getting really awkward. You need to stay in your own league.”

“Whatever,” I said. “We’ll see how you handle it next year when you can’t find a date to homecoming.”

“I’m sure I’ll cry myself to sleep. But at least I’ll have memories of this year’s dance to help me through it,” she replied.

“What?!” I nearly yelled. “Who are you going with?”

“Brad Inman,” she said with a smirk.

“That loser?” I said with contempt. Brad was junior like me, but he wasn’t one of the cool kids. Not that I was exactly cool either, but I didn’t spend my free periods battling other nerds with playing cards.

“Hey! He’s got a car. That’s pretty cool in these circles. And he’s got a date. Between the two of you I think he’s winning,” she said.

“Well sure, I could get a date too, let me go ask the next flat girl who’s willing to put out for a ticket to the dance, I’ll let you know how it goes.” Even as I said it I knew it was a step too far. I was mad about Lisa, but Kimmy had been right, it was a long shot that I’d have gotten a yes either way.

“Asshole,” Kimmy said, in a voice that actually sounded hurt. She got up and left the table in a hurry.

“Kimmy!” I called after her, I wanted to try and apologize, but she was having none of it.