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Divorce. What an ugly word. An ugly word to describe an ugly topic. How could this ever happen to her? Mommy‘s little girl, her pretty little girl, but now it‘s over. Karen Wheeler is done for. What will people say about her? It‘s a social death sentence in a little nest like Hawkins. Oh God, she can already hear Darla Gunderson‘s sarcastic voice at the grocery store, volume carefully chosen so that it appears to be a whisper, a private conversation, but also loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

Karen Wheeler? Yeah, I‘ve heard about it. They say he ran off with a younger woman. Francine says she‘s a High School graduate. I know, right? Karen can‘t compete. Do you think she‘ll keep his last name? For the children?‘

 

And hell, Karen be damned if she doesn‘t. That‘s not something her children should go through, having a different last name than their mother. She doesn‘t agree with a lot of things Joyce Byers does, but her decision concerning this topic is morally flawless. Nancy could probably cope with it. But not Michael. Still so small, so fragile. Holly wouldn‘t understand yet, but just as for Michael it would be an eternal stigma for her little girl.

 

 


 

 

Karen is proud to say, even if her tits are sagging, that hasn‘t affected her cooking skills.

 

„So... how do you like it?“

 

„So great, mom.“ Nancy declares, munching away on her meat loaf.

 

„Michael?“ Karen turns her welcoming expression towards her son, who suddenly flinches, for reasons unknown to Karen.

 

„‘s good.“ he mumbles without even looking at her. He doesn‘t eat, instead he uses his fork to shove little pieces of meat, potatoes and baby carrots from one side of his plate to the other. Well, pressuring her son is no use. Karen doesn‘t want to argue. He has just become a teenager a month back, even if it‘s not exactly visible on him yet. In a way, she wishes Michael would always stay like this, smaller than her, baby fat still softening his cheeks, and so smooth all over. She has Holly, who is currently busy refusing carrots, but no one could ever replace her baby boy. Karen can‘t imagine Michael taller than now. More well defined, or even with a beard.

 

Once they‘re old enough to grow a beard, they‘re old enough to leave women behind. It starts with their moms. Always. Suddenly, little boys are not as little anymore, and then it‘s just ‚Bye, mom! I‘m off to college. See you on Christmas!‘ Off they go. Karen isn‘t sure if she could cope with that. But it doesn‘t stop there. That‘s just the first goodbye. Next, they get themselves a woman. They dump her. They get themselves another woman. Maybe they marry. But it doesn‘t last.

 

She‘s not sure what it is. His jaw flexing when he finally shoves a little piece of meat loaf between his dark lips. His lanky arm and fingers moving the fork with such precision. Whatever it is, it makes her realize, this is Michael. Her Michael. No, he is better than that. Certainly, he will never leave her here in her misery.

 

„Hey, Nancy?“ Karen hums into her glass of wine.

 

„Huh?“ Nancy perks up.

 

„Are you going out tonight?“ At her words, Michael stiffens just slightly in his seat. It‘s obvious, he can‘t wait.

 

„Yeah... uh actually. Yeah.“ her older daughter confirms. „Just to watch some cheesy m-“

 

„That‘s great, honey.“ Karen smiles enthusiastically. She doesn‘t know why Nancy seems so taken aback. Maybe it‘s just because she‘s dealing with a teenager here. Nancy is a good girl, she‘s got a future in front of her. There‘s no point in trying to dictate too much about her life. She is old enough not to need as much guidance as Michael does.

 

„Holly, baby.“ she sighs. The little girl next to her is just about to throw a tantrum. „Eat your carrots. Either that or no dessert, understood?“

 

„Don‘t wan‘!“ her daughter crosses her arms in front of her chest, pouting.

 

„Well, then you obviously don‘t want your cake either.“ She empties her glass, and pours herself another one as always. Holly actually seems to have accepted her fate for the night. So stubborn and headstrong, even at her two years of age, she‘s willingly giving up on chocolate cake just to avoid vegetables. That‘s... admirable in a way, Karen has to admit.

 

„Michael.“ she smiles, deciding not to pay too much attention to her little girl‘s temper. Her son all but jumps, dropping the fork to his plate. „Any plans for tonight?“ But he looks as if he‘s choking on his food, so Karen goes on „I thought we could maybe watch a movie.“

 

„Movie?“ Michael croaks, voice just above a whisper.

 

 


 

 

„So, this guy‘s like... I mean, bad?“ Karen slurs. Just an hour ago she has begun welcoming the warmth good wine fills her limbs with. „That why they call him Dark?“ Next to her on the couch, living room only lit by the TV, Michael shivers.

 

„It‘s... it‘s Darth.“ he quietly explains. „Darth Vader.“ He probably doesn‘t expect her to listen, but she does. And if it‘s just to get rid of that terrible feeling of disconnection. Karen just has to know what her son likes. Since his father left, they‘re closer than ever. It‘s so nice having his small body pressed against hers, his mop of black curls resting against her shoulder. He is hugging a pillow and his own legs.

 

„Darth Vader.“ Karen repeats. „Who calls their child Darth? Michael is nicer for a name, isn‘t it?“ She begins running a hand up and down his skinny arm, but not to start anything. It‘s not time yet, her son is clearly enjoying the movie, jumping at every loud noise from the TV. How she wishes she could see the world through his eyes, so imaginative and easy to impress. So creative. „You know...“ she whispers into his ear. „I‘m so proud.“ He doesn‘t look at her. „You‘ll write something like... something like this. You‘re so good...“ He says nothing.

 

Karen never would have thought she‘d have a good time watching a movie like this, but towards the end, when they attempt to blow up that Death Star thing, the tension is close to killing her. Seemingly, Michael feels the same, shivering more with every minute they watch, and that‘s just adorable, considering how many times he has seen Star Wars already. She can even note some tears of joy in the corners of his eyes when it‘s over. Still holding on to each other tightly, they even watch the end credits, until the TV screen goes dark.

 

Well... now it‘s time. Michael has taught her something today. He taught her to enjoy these things, childish fantasies, space battles. And just like that, she has to give something back. Teach her son something he‘s going to need in life. That‘s a mother‘s right and her duty.

 

„We should go to bed.“ she sighs, while underlining this with her fingers tracing prominent ribs by the side of Michael‘s torso.

 

„Can‘t we-“ he suddenly stutters „Can‘t we watch another one? I- I- I‘m not t- tired!“

 

„But mommy is tired.“ she chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple. „And you wanna be a good boy for mommy, right?“ Still, Michael doesn‘t look at her. But he nods slowly, tears of excitement glistering, even in the dark living room.

 

He‘s taking small steps to the stairs and up to his bedroom, Karen following, allowing him his own speed. Not tired, huh? He certainly looks like it though. Hopefully not too tired to learns something tonight. Well, in the end he never is. Never too tired to aspire for more. His grades show that too, Karen is proud to say.

 

„Mommy‘s gonna get herself ready for bed, okay? Lie down.“ Struggling a bit with coordinating her legs and feet, Karen hurries over to her bedroom. Their bedroom just a few weeks ago. But really just her bedroom ever since Holly was born. They could have their lesson in here. Maybe it would be more comfortable, being that Michael‘s bed is awfully small. On the other hand, Michael isn‘t Ted. He is so much more. So much better. He doesn‘t need to be in here. It probably wouldn‘t do him any good.

 

Karen drops her clothes in front of the mirror, like she always does. For years, she‘s been paying attention to every little change in how she looks. She doesn‘t like the sight, and probably never will again. She‘ll never be sixteen again, massaging and inspecting her firm breasts when her parents aren‘t home. What she didn‘t know just a few weeks ago however is, that Michael in fact likes this body, which is just too much of a compliment for her to handle. Her son is young, he is such a cute boy, and he could have anyone in the whole wide world. Yet, he chooses her. What did she ever do to deserve such a loving son?

 

Karen‘s fingers lightly stroke at her own nipples, just a gentle breeze over the sensitive flesh that‘s making her shudder with arousal. Achieving this, this level of comfort with herself and her own pleasure, even when drunk, is something she never thought possible with her husband around. She opts for no clothing at all. What good does a bathrobe do if she‘s going to take it off in a minute anyways.

 

On her way to Michael‘s room she practices her most seductive hip-swing. She comes to a halt in his door frame in a pose some people might find offensive, especially considering her undressed state, but their mother-son bond is above these things. There, she finds what‘s probably the most beautiful sight of her life. Her son is just so considerate. He knows how much she loves slowly undressing him, so he is still in his clothes, sitting on his bed with his back turned to her, trembling with excited arousal.

 

„Honey...“ she says softly, trying to take in as much of him as possible. His soft, black hair. His slim, but boyish shoulders that are raising rhythmically. „You still wanna be a good boy, don‘t you?“ He nods once, black curls dancing around his neck enchantingly. „So you‘re ready to learn from mommy?“ Another small nod. Karen doesn‘t miss Michael‘s shoulders tensing with anticipation. „Love you so much, sweetie.“ she whispers, slowly stepping towards his bed with the Star Wars sheets she got him for Christmas. She never really paid attention to them before. Now they look different. She now recognizes Darth Vader, Chewbacca and R2D2. She even gets why Michael loves them so much. „Sweetie?“ her smiles fades just slightly.

 

„Yeah.“ he croaks towards the wall. „Love you too, mommy.“

 

„That‘s a good boy.“ Karen whispers. „Now let me help you get more comfortable, huh?“ Michael doesn‘t move and inch when Karen begins pulling his striped polo shirt up. „Arms up.“ He compliantly does so, before dropping them back to his sides where they hang limp once his upper body is exposed to her. Karen adores how there‘s no sign of pecs, or really any sort of muscle on him yet. Wherever she lets her hand wander, it‘s all ivory skin and bones, with the exception of that little roll of baby fat on his stomach, that is only ever showing when he is sitting down like right now. She runs her index finger across it, causing Michael‘s shoulders to heave just once.

 

He has really gotten better at this over the last weeks. The first few times, Michael could barely contain his excitement and arousal, sobbing heavily at every touch. Now, he has become more settled about everything Karen is teaching him. Still crying thick tears of pleasure the whole time, he remains mostly quiet now, obviously content with enjoying it in silence. It‘s okay. His bodily reactions are unmistakable. For example his little hard-on that‘s poking against the thin fabric of his colorfully dotted briefs, when Karen unbuttons his corduroys and pulls them to his ankles.

 

Still completely passive, he only lifts his feet a little when asked to. Karen doesn‘t repeat the process with his underpants just yet. „You can lie down now, honey.“ A sound comes from him that vaguely reminds her of gagging, and she figures it‘s probably her finger gently brushing over the little tent he has built for her so neatly. Michael does as he is told, slowly, as if his limbs are too heavy for him to control. On his back like that, his stomach is completely flat. Karen takes a few seconds to lightly scrape her fingernails across it, making the muscles there twitch similarly to his now closed eyelids.

 

He looks even softer like that. Karen marvels at the sight of his flat chest expanding and deflating rhythmically. A light peck to each of his perfect little nipples later, Karen finally lets the digits of her right hand slip beneath the waistband of her son‘s briefs. Satisfied at the sticky slickness in there she chuckles „You‘ve been waiting for days, right?“ When he doesn‘t say anything, she brings her hand further up again to take his smooth chin in between her fingers. „Good boys answer their mommies.“ she hushes.

 

„Hm.“ Michael croaks, nodding his head lightly.

 

„What?“ Karen snickers. Just a bit of teasing. Michael has always been one for a little wit.

 

„Been waiting.“ he all but sobs. His face flashes bright red.

 

„I know.“ Karen whispers. „I know. Let‘s help you then, huh?“ Finally, she proceeds with his briefs, pulling them down slowly. Michael‘s smooth penis springs to life like that, circumcised head connected to his underwear by a long string of precum. She wonders if it has grown in the weeks since their first lesson. It‘s 4 inches at best right now, but Karen at least imagines there‘s more hair around its base than before. She climbs on top of her son. „You know what to do, baby.“ Oh yes, he does. Just like she has taught him, he lines himself up with her so she can let herself sink down on him. The process draws a delicious whimper from his sealed lips.

 

Karen can see her own reflection against the ink splattered window, ink that is the night over the little town of Hawkins. Michael is hard! He is hard and he is inside her, and somehow, just the realization of this simple truth is enough to let her nipples shrink. It tightens up her entire body, Karen‘s reflection now looks young, fresh and firm. God, how could she ever think of herself as ugly or worn out?

 

When she begins riding, a first, faint sob falls from Michael‘s lips. „Won‘t take long, honey.“ she coos. „Just to get started.“ And Karen doesn‘t need long. The way he is writhing underneath her with his eyes closed and teeth gnashed gets her so unbelievably worked up. She is soaking wet, feels her bodily fluids running down her thighs when she pulls off of him again, having made him shiny and slick with her juices in turn. „Feels so good, doesn‘t it?“

 

He whines in response, all high pitched and cute, when she uses a single finger to gently trace his length, applying just a second of firm pressure to the underside of his bright red head. „Tonight...“ Karen lies down besides her son, letting her hand find its way around his body „...is very special. You‘re gonna learn how to give something back.“

 

So far, it has all been her figuring out how to please Michael best. It was great, so connecting and trust-building, but instead of letting him feel her, she wants to feel him for once, and that won‘t be a problem; He is mommy‘s little boy, always here for her when she needs him, always thoughtful and considerate of her needs, just how she raised him all his life. In the grand scheme of things, while this might become nice for her too, it‘s really a valuable thing to learn for a boy his age. How to treat a woman.

 

„Don‘t you wanna make mommy feel good?“ Karen whispers into her sons‘s ear. For the first time that night, he shakes his head. „You know, Michael...“ she sighs „...a gentleman always takes care of his lady.“ Just by shifting her position, fondling his close to hairless testicles a bit, Karen draws the faintest of gasps from him. „And a true gentleman gets a reward. You gotta learn how to work for it a bit. Then you‘ll be able to make a special someone happy.“

 

She says these words not without shedding a tear or two, knowing full well Michael might be hers right now, but not forever. Eventually, she is going to have to share him with someone, but in that case she has to at least make sure he knows everything that‘s necessary.

 

„Mom... no...“ he whines, and in all honesty, for Karen there‘s a sense of disappointment to his reaction. Well, maybe it‘s just because he doesn‘t yet understand what he is missing out on. Men can enjoy this too. Karen pulls her struggling son down just a little bit to make things easier. Just far enough so that his calves fall down the bed, feet touching the floor. Eventually, she‘ll let him be on top, just not yet. He isn‘t ready.

 

„Eyes open.“ she orders ever so softly. While everything around her might be an alcohol-induced blur, Karen can still recognize his dark, watering orbs for what they are. Huge, loving, and so full of compassion for her. Getting into position is a bit awkward. Not just because she has never done it this way around, and because her limbs sometimes won‘t follow her orders as precisely as she wants them to, but also because now he is struggling again.

 

Karen lets out a heavy sigh, having accepted her fate for tonight. She‘s going to have to fight him. Next time she won‘t, but for every first time she has made him experience, it has been like this. A bit of struggling first, then compliance. Just a teenager putting up a bit of a scene here and there, testing out his boundaries. It‘s healthy. Positioning one knee to either side of his slender body, Karen lets her core hover right over his face. One or two drops from her hit his cheeks. Her thighs are strong enough to pin his previously thrashing head in place between her legs.

 

„Look, honey.“ she coos. „Mommy‘s made herself pretty just for you.“ And honestly, she is somewhat proud of her neatly trimmed hair. It feels good after all those years of not really taking care of herself to feel so clean and at least somewhat youthful down there. „Don‘t you think it‘s nice?“

 

„Yeah... it‘s nice!“ Michael cries out. „Please, mom... don‘t!“ His tiny hands dig into her behind and her hips with their thin fingers, but trying to push her off that way is no use. Karen slowly lowers herself on Michael‘s face until she can see his nose and full lips disappearing underneath her slick folds. Nothing happens, other than him tensing all the muscles in his upper body. Karen quickly realizes her mistake.

 

„You don‘t know what to do?“ she asks gently, while stroking his hair ever so softly, at which Michael lets out a muffled sob, shaking his head just as much as her grip on him allows for. „Your tongue.“ Karen whispers. „It‘s easy, sweetie. Just...“ she spreads herself open in front of his eyes and points at the little knob that‘s already enlarged and tingling. „...make sure to give that spot a lot of attention, okay?“

 

But still, nothing comes from Michael other than broken squeaking noises, especially when Karen decides to grind forward and backward on his face a bit. Like that, it‘s just his nose that hits her sweet spot every once in a while. With a swift motion, by weaving her fingers into his thick hair and pulling his face all but into her, she finally manages to give him the encouragement he needs to let his delicate tongue hesitantly tickle her. His movements around her opening are slow, but it‘ so warm and teasing, although maybe not purposefully so. He just doesn‘t hit all the right places at all the right times, so it‘s more like a slow buildup.

 

The next minutes are all frantic movements, panting, and a bit of squeaking and sobbing from Michael‘s side. His lips are vibrating every time he does that, adding to the fun for Karen. God, he‘s learning so quickly. „If you‘re really careful you can use your teeth a little.“ she moans. „Right where I showed you.“ In an attempt to make this easier, she scissors herself open with two fingers again. And like the good boy he is, Michael does as he‘s told. His teeth close around her engorged clitoris just lightly, pulling, nibbling, sending waves of electric heat through Karen‘s entire body. The wine she had tonight isn‘t enough to numb that heavenly feeling when she comes on top of and all over her son‘s face. Her muscles contract, they make it unable for Karen to hold herself upright without leaning against the headboard.

 

Her breath comes in and out in heavy bursts, and she doesn‘t move an inch from her position for maybe half a minute more, until the orgasmic cramps finally let go of her thighs and calves. When Karen rolls off of Michael to drop to her back on the bed next to him, she could swear she has never been as relaxed as she is now.

 

Michael, meanwhile, has turned her back on her like he often does. Karen doesn‘t fully understand why, maybe it‘s a pride thing. Some teenagers are a bit uncomfortable with showing how grateful they are, and if that‘s the case, all Karen can do is reassure him that he has, in fact, achieved something. For himself and his mother. Which he has, because this this the first time he has made her come.

 

„Such a good boy, Michael.“ she hums against his neck. Her loving hand reaches around his body and finds the almost non-existent patch of hair, which she scrapes tentatively. „You did that so good.“ she goes on. „I think it‘s time for your reward. Mommy can help you out.“

 

From behind, she can see his head shaking. She can‘t help but smile. Always so humble, not considering his own needs at all. But he was just so good tonight. And even if he wasn‘t, she‘d still help Michael. She‘s his mother, she‘s supposed to be kind and giving and understanding, and there‘s nothing she‘d rather do.

 

„Let mommy help you.“ Karen insists. Her grip on Michael‘s hip becomes only so forceful that she can flip him over to his back again. Awestruck by his soft face, the round contours that are still shining with her juices all over, she carefully strokes two fingers up and down his length. He writhes at her touch, his back arches so that the smooth white skin of his torso spans his rib cage even tighter. Then her mouth is on him, because really, that‘s the only worthy way to reciprocate.

 

It‘s different from doing this for Ted, obviously smaller, but also just that much smoother and cleaner. That‘s just how he is. Cleanly, good smelling, so easy to get along with. Even his sweat seems to be pure, in a way. Right now, he is producing a lot of that. Karen gives it all she‘s got, her tongue massaging, tasting, flicking here and there. The way she can taste herself on him only fuels her eagerness to finally give her son release. All the skill Karen has acquired over the years pays off right now. It‘s not just the use of her tongue and lips, but also her hands on his tender testicles.

 

In less than a minute, she has Michael far enough to let out something between a loud moan and a desperate cry, that‘s followed by him shooting hot directly into Karen‘s throat. God, even that part of him tastes younger, fresher than Ted. Everything about this is so good, so beneficial for the both of them, Karen seriously wants to scold herself for even thinking Ted‘s departure could actually be a loss. Her whole family is so much better off without him.

 

Michael rolls over to his stomach as soon as she lets go of his shaft, just to sob into his pillow. Once again Karen wishes she could see the world through his eyes. Or to be able to feel the world like he does, all overwhelming pleasure that leaves him crying.

 

She positions herself sitting upright against the headboard of his bed, legs sprawled out in front of her. „Time to sleep, sweetie, huh?“ Michael nods, face buried in fabric. „Let mommy hold you?“ Karen asks hopefully. There‘s just no substitute for being so close to him. He obediently climbs into her lap to face her. She likes this the most, his damp front against her torso, his now flaccid penis just lightly brushing her stomach, face resting against her breasts. Her, according to Michael, very beautiful breasts. The scent of her own orgasm emits from his still sticky face. He continues sobbing for a while, Karen doing her best to soothe him by massaging his firm butt that fills out her palms so nicely.

 

And no matter how many times she tells him how he is just so good, so nice, such a good son, it never seems to be enough for her to express how she truly feels about him. She just doesn‘t know the right words. Michael does. He knows every word, knows how to use them, how to arrange them to enchant people. The simple ‚I love you‘ phrases she manages to give him just can‘t do him justice.

 

Eventually, when Karen‘s back starts to hurt, she carefully lays Michael down on his sheets, as not to wake him up. It takes a few small pecks to his nice, round butt cheeks to get her ready to leave. But it‘s for the better. A boy shouldn‘t be dependent on his mother to be able to sleep.

 

As Karen sits on the couch, she empties the last few drops from tonight‘s bottles. She has to laugh. The bitches in town can talk all day long. Karen might not have a husband anymore. But she sure as hell hell has a son.

 

Pancakes she thinks. He‘s getting blueberry pancakes for breakfast.