Date: Mon, 19 Mar 2007 08:21:06 +1000
From: parrafan@hushmail.com
Subject: Mother Knows Best

Mother Knows Best

a story by parrafan

Disclaimer: This story is for adult entertainment only. No minors
allowed. The author (me) does not promote, encourage, sanction or condone
any of these activities, and has been reading his thesaurus meticulously,
carefully, scrupulously and vigilantly.

Dedication: This story is dedicated to a new on-line friend. He knows who
he is.

Author's note: For a change of pace, this story is around 99% sex-free. I
won't be offended if you think it's not racy enough, or detailed enough or
graphic enough, and I'll put the thesaurus down right now, immediately,
straight away.

** **

Mother Knows Best

Jeremy's mother. Even before motherhood, she was always a little bit...
different, a little bit eccentric. And when Jeremy arrived in his mother's
life, her peccadilloes seemed to multiply.

Oh, she was not an indifferent mother - far from it. Nor was she bossy, exactly.
And she took the trouble to read all sorts of books and magazines about child-
rearing, paying close attention to the opinions of the television gurus who
pontificate about every subject under the sun. She held very strong beliefs
about the raising of children, and was determined not to make the same mistakes
with her own child that her parents had made with her. Sadly, though she would
never acknowledge it, she made a whole bunch of different mistakes instead.

Jeremy's mother - Mrs Chambers to her friends, although she had never actually
earned the title "Mrs" with a wedding ceremony - knew that a boy's life was
signposted with certain developmental milestones, and that it was a good
mother's job to be cognisant of these as they came along, and adjust her
parenting accordingly. As a result, Jeremy stayed in diapers until he was
exactly eighteen months old. At precisely six years of age she stopped taking
Jeremy into the ladies' lavatory with her, suggesting quite firmly that he must
now use the male lavatory instead. At eight, she discontinued her practice of
waiting outside the male lavatory for Jeremy to appear, and also left off her
habit of asking, in quite a loud voice, whether he had wiped his bottom or not,
following such visits. She decided that at eight years old, Jeremy was old
enough to be responsible for his own anal hygiene.

Mrs Chambers' diligence did not start and end at the lavatory door. Oh, no. She
was a firm believer in the view that parenting was not a passive activity, but
an active, even interactive, one, and wide ranging, at that. She was a broad-
spectrum mom. Consequently, it was not unusual to see Mrs Chambers take Jeremy
to the boys' clothing section of the Department Store, for example, and tell him
to drop his trousers on the spot so that she could try a new pair of slacks on
him. It did not occur to Mrs Chambers that any passers-by would be offended or
amused (or aroused) by this. She had a gift that nearly all mothers possess (but
most grow out of) for embarrassing Jeremy at the most awkward times.

On the bus riding in to Town, a person sitting behind Jeremy and his mother
might be amused to hear her say "Did you put on the briefs I put out for you,
Jeremy, or are you still insisting on wearing those ridiculous boxers? You
realise they are of no use whatever if you become aroused?".

Or at a restaurant, a diner at a nearby table might chuckle to himself on
overhearing Jeremy's mother suggest that if he ate all of his vegetables, he
might not need to spend so much time on the toilet, grunting, straining and
groaning.

One particular afternoon, while Mrs Chambers had a few ladies over for coffee
and cake, Jeremy arrived home from school. "Come here, darling", she called to
him as he tried to reach his room unnoticed. He knew from experience these
occasions were never good (for him). "I was just telling Mrs Swanson how red the
end of your penis gets when you've been masturbating a little too vigorously.
Pull down your pants and show her, please sweetie. See, Francine, all around the
end part, how it's all red? It is difficult to see, I know, such a small one,
but you can still make out the inflammation. Thank you dear, you can escape to
your room now".

Innocent remarks of Jeremy's frequently came back to haunt him, and usually at
highly inopportune times. When Jeremy's foot slipped off the pedal of his
slightly-too-large bicycle, causing his groin to connect rather heavily and
painfully with the frame, he told his mother about it, as she had naturally been
concerned by the boy's bowlegged gait. The next time that subject arose was
after Church the following Sunday, when Mrs Chambers asked her son, in front of
Reverend Jones, Mrs Jones and their thirteen year old daughter Priscilla,
whether his testicles were still sore from the bicycle injury. When Jeremy
flushed to the colour of a hydroponic tomato, Mrs Chambers simply sighed with
resignation and said "Well, it's not as though you use them for anything yet, is
it?"

Another incident that illustrates Mrs Chambers' disregard for convention
occurred at Parent-Teacher night when Jeremy was in Grade Five. Jeremy's mother
did not usually attend such evenings, being of the opinion that no-one could
possibly know her son so intimately as she, so why should she listen to them?
But Jeremy said that his class teacher had particularly asked for her to come,
and she respected the teacher's request. Jeremy's teacher, Mr Falden, asked Mrs
Chambers whether Jeremy went to bed at a reasonable hour, as he was frequently
yawning in the morning, as though he had not slept well enough, or sufficiently.

Mrs Chambers surprised the teacher, and the twenty or so parents and
children in the immediate vicinity, by asserting loudly that indeed, she
did send him to bed at a reasonable hour, but he did not settle down to
sleep straight away. Instead, she frequently heard the sounds of
masturbation from Jeremy's room, often for an hour or more, so it was no
shock to her that Jeremy was sometimes a little tired in the morning.

"In fact", Mrs Chambers added, leaning in closer as if to engage Mr Falden in a
confidence, but not lowering her voice correspondingly, "I think he has a little
crush on you, Mr Falden, as I often have heard him moan your name during these
bouts of self-pleasuring. Perfectly normal for a boy his age, of course", she
added. Jeremy, his eyes downcast, hoping that the floor would simply open up and
allow him to drop down to China, could only wait for his mother to finish
destroying his reputation.

Jeremy's mother seemed oblivious to the effect of her words on her son. She
decided that since she was at the Parent-Teacher conference, she might as well
speak to Jeremy's other teachers. There were only two more, the Gym teacher and
the music teacher. "Jeremy has a beautiful treble voice, if only he would use
it", she expounded to the music teacher. "His testicles haven't begun to mature
yet, and he doesn't have any pubic hair around his penis, so I should imagine
his voice will remain high for some while longer. Maybe you could find a place
for him in the school choir, perhaps with the girls?" she asked. At the Gym
teacher's desk, she agreed with his lament that boys often forget their Gym
clothes and thus could not participate. "No need to accept that excuse from
Jeremy", she assured him. "Just take his trousers and shirt off, and he can run
around in his underwear. They're only little boys, after all, who will mind?"

It took Jeremy quite a few weeks to recover from the taunting of his classmates
following the Parent-Teacher debacle, but soon his life returned to an
approximation of normality. His eleventh birthday was approaching, and he was
thinking of asking his mother whether he could have a few friends sleep over
that day. Mrs Chambers, for her part, had different ideas about the significance
of a boy's eleventh birthday. She sat her son down one afternoon a few days
before the Big Day, and showed him some books and magazines she had obtained for
his perusal. "These are full of information a growing boy should know", she
explained. "This one is all about the changes in a boy's body at puberty - I
think we'll read that one together. And this one is about contraception - I know
it's probably a bit early, but better safe than sorry. I'll get a box of condoms
from the supermarket and keep them on the sideboard for you to use whenever you
need them. I promise I won't count them, I'll just keep the box full. This
pamphlet I got from Doctor McPeters is all about masturbation. Now I know you
are already familiar with that subject, but it does give some useful tips, like
keeping a jar of lotion and a box of tissues by your bed if you need them, and
washing your hands after you've been fingering your bottom"

"Mom!" Jeremy exclaimed, exasperated. "I don't need all this stuff. I'm just
a...a normal kid! I wish you wouldn't be so much of a...a mother!"

"Why, Jeremy, what  a ridiculous thing to say! What else can I be but a mother?
And you needn't be shy with me! Not at all! Aren't I the person who gave you my
breasts to suck on when you were a baby? Didn't I wipe your bottom whenever I
changed your diaper? Who cleaned under your foreskin for the first five years of
your life when I gave you a bath? So don't you go thinking that after nearly
eleven years I'm going to simply step out of your life and let all that work go
to waste!"

Jeremy hung his head, a posture that he was getting all too familiar with. "Aw,
mom, I don't mean it that way. But none of the other guys' moms are
so...interested in them. I just wanna be one of the guys, y'know, ordinary.
Could you just kinda...tone it down a little?"

Mrs Chambers smiled. She knew from her recent reading that this small
rebelliousness on Jeremy's part was a certain sign of her son's developing
maturity, and she chose to take it as such, rather than as a cry from the heart.
"I understand, darling, and I will try harder not to intrude. Now let's read
this book I got you about puberty, shall we? Ooh, look, it's illustrated. My, my,
that boy's penis is a lot bigger than yours, isn't it! And look at his big
testicles! Yours are still peanut sized, but his are as big as golf balls! It
says here that the pubic hair sometimes grows first on the scrotum, and
sometimes first on the pubic mound - isn't that interesting, Jeremy! We'll be
sure to keep an eye on yours, it's a good barometer of the changes your body is
undergoing. Let's have a look at the chapter on erections, I want to find out if
they are supposed to be curved like yours..."

** **

Mrs Chambers agreed right away to Jeremy's request to host a sleepover. She even
chided him for his trepidation - why wouldn't she agree, after all. Her only
proviso was that it should take place the night before his birthday, as the Big
Day fell on a Sunday, and with only one guest. She didn't want him staying up
late on Sunday night because of school on the following day. Jeremy conceded the
sense in this, and invited his best friend from school, Willi, for the Saturday
night. About eight other friends, all boys, would be joining them on the Sunday
for the party.

After dinner on Saturday, the two boys excused themselves from the table to go
to Jeremy's room. Not that they were tired or anything, but Jeremy knew it was
only a matter of time before his mother said something to make him wish he was
invisible, and he thought if he was out of sight she might forget about him for
an hour or two.

He suggested to Willi that they may as put on their pyjamas straight away, and
watch some movies, in case they fell asleep later. Willi happily agreed, and
began to strip. Mrs Chambers chose that exact moment to barge in to Jeremy's
bedroom, and, seeing the boys in the process of removing their underwear, drew a
perfectly incorrect conclusion. "Oh, so sorry, boys, I didn't realise you'd be
starting your sexual activity so soon after dinner"

"Mom!" Jeremy complained loudly, "we're just changing into our PJs, okay?"

"Of course you are, dear', she smiled knowingly, "Don't forget to use the lotion,
otherwise you'll get that chafing on your penis again, and...here's a fresh towel
to clean up afterwards"

"MOM!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going! My goodness, but you get testy sometimes! It must
be your hormones - I'll read up on them and we'll discuss it in a few days.
Nighty-night"

Jeremy slumped onto the bed, trying to hold back his tears of frustration. Willi
didn't know what to do - it was probably a bit too late to go home, and Jeremy
was a friend after all. He skirted around to Jeremy's side of the bed and sat
next to him. "Hey, Jez, I don't care. It don't bother me. I mean, the other guys
kinda warned me your mom was...a bit weird, like. My mom's the opposite. I could
drop dead and she wouldn't even notice - -unless I did it in front of the liquor
cabinet. Come on, let's watch a movie. It'll be cool"

Willi scooted back around to his side of the bed and climbed in. Jeremy wiped
his sleeve across his eyes and slowly climbed into the bed. He mustered up the
courage to speak. "It wouldn't be so bad, but she thinks just because I'm eleven
now, that I must be thinking about...about sex all the time. And I don't! Well,
maybe at night, sometimes. But not all the time!"

Jeremy fell silent as the movie began. He felt more comfortable, after his
outburst, having that off his chest. Inside, he was glad his Mom didn't scare
Willi off. He remembered one time, a few months back, when another friend, Chris,
had come over after school. They were working together on a project about wild
birds in the local area. She barged in to his room that time, too. Only then,
she insisted he remove his school clothes right away and put them in the laundry
ready for washing. Before he had a chance to either complain or comply, Chris
suggested that he'd better be going home.

The movie continued. There was a good car chase that made the boys sit up and
take notice, then some gunfire and explosions, but then it slowed down again.
Willi was the first to speak. "So...we gonna use that lotion, or what?" he asked
softly.

Jeremy turned to look at Willi, his face illuminated by the flickering light of
the screen. "You mean... uh, you wanna...fool around?"

"Sure, I guess", came Willi's indifferent reply. "It's a sleepover, ain't it?"

"Whattaya mean?" asked Jeremy.

"Guys always do stuff on sleepovers. Or mostly always. It's kinda like, when
girls get together, they talk. Guys fool around. It's fun", Willi explained, as
though it was as natural as breathing.

Jeremy was impressed by the depth of Willi's knowledge. He knew Willi was about
the oldest boy in the class at nearly twelve, and that Willi had been to other
boys' homes for sleepovers. In spite of everything his mother had told him,
Jeremy was quite innocent when it came to what boys actually did on sleepovers.
But he was willing to learn. He jumped out of bed and ran to the cupboard,
yelling "I got it!" as he grabbed the jar of lotion.

"Quiet, or your mom'll hear us!", Willi whispered urgently.

For the first time in his life, Jeremy was halfway glad his mother was so weird.
"She won't mind. She even expects us to do stuff. We can make as much noise as
we want. Heck, we can even do it right in front of her!" He was a little giddy
with the anticipation.

Willi hadn't planned on putting on a show in front of Mrs Chambers, just getting
his rocks off. He still wasn't convinced that Jeremy's mom was as cool as Jeremy
suggested, but hey, what was she gonna do, call a cop? Call his mom? He kicked
the blankets off and squirmed out of his pyjama trousers, exposing his own four-
incher, which had stiffened up as soon as the movie began. He had a few straggly
hairs around the base of his dick, and he could actually produce a drop of pre-
cum, which always impressed other boys on other sleepovers. Jeremy watched,
open-mouthed, as Willi gouged a two-fingered scoop of lotion from the jar and
applied it to his dong, gasping as the cool emulsion almost sizzled on his hot
prick.

"Watcha lookin' at?" Willi asked Jeremy suspiciously. "You ain't a fag, are ya?"

"Course I ain't", Jeremy declared. "But I never saw another boy...doin' it before.
Can I, uh...watch?"

His ego stroked a little by Jeremy's adulation, and his assurance that he was
not queer, only a seeker after knowledge, satisfied Willi. "Sure, watch and
learn. Some guys use the overhand method, but I think four fingers with thumb
upwards is best. You might hear some guys, especially ones with little dicks, uh,
no offense-"

"None taken" replied the enraptured Jeremy.

"- uh, guys with little ones just use two fingers and a thumb? But that's really
only for when you got no lotion. And when you can really spread out - man, you
got a cool bed - the best thing is usin' your other hand on your balls or
butthole? There's nothin' like it!" Willi continued beating off with one hand,
his other reaching under his thigh to poke at his anus, while Jeremy toyed
lightly with his own tool, still gaping at the wanton display of sexuality right
in front of him, in his own bed. He wasn't really sure about the precise
difference between 'being a fag' and 'being turned on by watching another boy
masturbate', but it was obvious that Willi was much more experienced in these
matters than he.

Willi began to grunt, then breathe in short gasps, before arching his hips and
moaning "Yeah! Oh, yeah!" as a single drop of clear fluid appeared at the eye of
his fleshy spike. He slumped slowly back to the bed, sighing deeply

Jeremy was puzzled. "Is that it?" he asked, his barely visible eyebrows arched.

"I'll make more when I'm older, okay?', Willi protested. "My uncle told me one
drop was just about right for my age."

"Your uncle?" Jeremy retorted. "You do this with your uncle?"

"Sure. You ain't got any uncles?"

"No. No uncles, no dad, no brothers. Just mom".

"Too bad", Willi commiserated. "My uncle an' me do all kindsa cool stuff.
Promise you won't tell?"

"Promise!" Jeremy replied. The opportunity to hear secret knowledge was too
irresistible to pass up.

"My uncle sucks my dick! He lets me fuck him, too! He's the best!" Willi
languidly flopped his now flaccid dick back and forth on his tummy.

"He lets you, uh, fuck him?" Jeremy whispered, almost afraid to say the F-word
out loud. "Wouldn't that make him a...a-"

"My uncle ain't no fag!" Willi asserted loudly. "He told me once that the idea
of getting' in bed with a man made him sick to his stomach. He just likes to
teach me stuff, is all. He didn't wanna, at first. I had to wear him down, like".

Jeremy lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, slowly stroking his still
stiff member. It seemed unlikely that Willi was going to do any more stuff
tonight. He had hoped that they would be doing stuff together, but clearly that
was 'fag' behaviour - unless it was with an uncle. But where was he going to get
an uncle, at his age?

** **

The party went off okay, in Jeremy's opinion. It was his first one, so he didn't
really have much to compare it with. He'd never been invited to anyone else's
parties either, but he did receive some assurances from a few of his guests that
when their birthdays came along, he would surely be invited in return. His mom
stayed indoors most of the time, leaving the boys to wreak havoc in the back
yard, where they ate a small mountain of snack food before taking part in some
violent and dangerous games involving sticks, fighting and loud impromptu sound
effects. At one point, Jeremy organized a series of wrestling bouts, as a kind
of reward for Willi, who clearly enjoyed besting his classmates at any contact-
type activity. Mrs Chambers could not restrain herself from coming out the back
door and enquiring pointedly "If you boys want to grab each others' genitals so
much, why don't you simply strip off and do it, without this elaborate and
brutal pretense?" Jeremy's friends just looked at each other as though she was
insane (which they already suspected) and Jeremy further distracted them by
yelling out "Ice Cream!" and running for the table, thereby glossing over a
potentially awkward moment.

After the boys had left for their own homes, and Jeremy had reset the back yard,
he sat with his mother on the couch, enjoying a quiet moment after the
excitement of the party.

"Mom, can I ask you something?" he began, a little tentatively.

"Of course, darling, you know you can ask me anything"

"Have I got any uncles? Only Willi was telling me last night that sometimes him
and his uncle do stuff together, you know, guy stuff, and I kinda hoped that if
I had one, well, we might, you know..."

"Do stuff?"

"Yeah!" Jeremy replied, glad that his mom had caught on.

"What kind of 'stuff' did you have in mind?" his mother asked evenly.

This was the point at which Jeremy's whole plan could collapse in a heap. He had
never lied to his mother before, and in some sense he was not lying to her now -
he was simply neglecting to tell her the whole truth. But being an unpracticed
liar, Jeremy was worried that his mother would see through his plan. "Oh, you
know, camping in the woods, fishing, making model aeroplanes, going to ball
games, building a soap box racer, stuff like that". He couldn't look her in the
eyes, certain that his face would give him away. Instead he paid careful
attention to his toes as he swung his feet to an unheard beat.

Mrs Chambers paused for the slightest moment before accepting all of her son's
words at their face value. "No, darling, as far as I know you've got no uncles.
Not on my side, anyway - I was an only child. As for your father's side, well,
I've never told you before, but since the subject has come up, I honestly don't
even know who he was. I had a friend from high school who went on to work at a
fertility clinic. I wanted a child, so I asked her to steal me some semen. I
waited until I was fertile, then dabbed the semen on my vagina and pushed it up
into my uterus with my finger. Until then, I was a virgin. My friend only had to
steal me two more straws of semen before it took, and you were conceived. Eight
and a half months later, you were delivered by caesarian section, so I suppose
I'm still technically a virgin. Since I don't know who the sperm donor was, I
don't know whether he had any brothers, who would therefore be your uncles".

Jeremy felt a sudden urge to run to the toilet bowl and upchuck his birthday
cake. He had become accustomed over the years to hearing all about his own
biological processes, and having them discussed in public with little more
respect than would be afforded a shopping list, but to hear the intimately slimy
details of his own mother's...aagh! It was almost too much! Cold beads of
perspiration popped out on his forehead, and he was glad he was sitting down, as
he felt a bit woozy.

But his mother was not finished! "Whoever he was, your father must have been
quite handsome, because you are the best looking boy in this whole town!" she
declared, making Jeremy wonder if she had been secretly drinking while the party
was on. "What about that teacher you're fond of, would you like to do stuff with
him?"

"Mister Falden? He's married", Jeremy spat in disgust, as though the matrimonial
contract ruled him out of all consideration. "I mean, he's got his own family to
look after, he wouldn't have time for me".

"Well, what do you suggest? I should put an advert in the local paper saying
'Wanted - single man, to do stuff with my eleven year old son - weekends
preferred'?"

"No mom. Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. If I find someone, is it alright
if I, er, try to make friends with him, maybe find out a bit about him, see if
he wants to...do stuff...with me?"

"Well, I don't know how or where an eleven year old boy would find a man - after
all, they say a good man is hard to find - but I tell you what: let's both look.
Two sets of eyes are better than one. We'll find you a man, or a reasonable
facsimile of one, or die trying! How's that?"

"Thanks mom', Jeremy sighed, leaning against her and allowing her to give him a
gentle cuddle.

** **

Where does a boy find a man? When he applied his mind to the problem, Jeremy
could actually think of quite a few places where men may be found: the gymnasium,
a local tavern, in an office building, the fire station, a synagogue. But not
just any man; it had to be a man that was willing to do stuff with Jeremy. And
not just once: he wanted a proper uncle, just like Willi's got, who doesn't just
do stuff, but who does all the other stuff as well: the ball games, the model
building, AND, he had to pass muster with his mom.

Jeremy trudged home from school, lost in his thoughts, but still carefully
noting the position of the cracks in the pavement lest he step on one. Such a
method of walking-without-looking was almost guaranteed to generate a collision
with any object in his path, and sure enough, it did. Jeremy walked head-first
into the midriff of a very surprised man.

"Whoa, there, young Jeremy! You just ran straight into me like I was a lamppost
or something!" the man protested, holding his arms out to support the boy lest
he fall on the rebound.

Jeremy was a little disconcerted by the man's words. "How...how do you know my
name?" he gasped, still getting over the shock of the collision.

"Well, for starters, we're neighbours. I live across the road and down four
doors from your house, in number 573. I've lived there for some eight years.
I've often heard your mother call you by name in your back yard, or in the local
shops, you know, here and there. Once, sometime last year I believe it was, I
even saw your bare bottom at the bus stop when she pulled your pants down to
check if you were wearing underwear. I suppose I've known you for years, without
knowing you in person, so to speak".

"Are you married?" Jeremy blurted out without thinking.

"Married? No, never been lucky enough, my boy. But I haven't given up hope", he
added, in the false-hearty voice of a man who had in fact given up all hope (if
that's what it was) of getting married.

"Would you like to come and meet my mother?" Jeremy rushed, knowing with a part
of his mind that he was going too fast, but not able to hold himself back.

"Are you trying to, er, fix your mother up with a husband, Jeremy?" the man
enquired gently. "Because if you are, I'm not the-"

"NO!" Jeremy yelled. "I mean, No, I'm not trying to do that. No. Not at all.
That would make you my stepfather. I don't want that. Uh, I don't even know your
name..."

"Martin Cooper, at your service", the man introduced himself, extending his hand
to Jeremy. While returning the customary shake, the boy gave Mister Cooper the
once-over: about the same age as his Mom, clean shaven, auburn hair cut
fashionably, clothes not too out-of-style, no beer belly, nice smell - a pretty
fair package, all things considered, Jeremy thought.

"Do you like boys? I mean, kids?" Jeremy asked innocently.

"Well, I guess I like them okay, but I don't think I could eat a whole one, heh
heh", Martin replied. It took Jeremy a few seconds to realise that the man had
made a joke, but by then it was too late to laugh, even politely.

"If you had the chance, would you like to do stuff with a boy? I mean, stuff
like fishing, or building a model aeroplane, or going to the ball park, stuff
like that?", Jeremy persevered.

"I'm getting the feeling that I've somehow magically been transported to some
kind of job interview for which I'm woefully underprepared, Jeremy; but to
answer your question, I guess I could see myself doing those things - and plenty
of other things, too - with the right boy"

A grin began to spread across Jeremy's face. Maybe Mister Cooper wants to do
stuff! With me! He might make a pretty cool uncle. Gotta get home and tell Mom.
"I'll be in touch - bye Mister Cooper, and thanks!"

** **

"Mom! I got something really important to tell you!" Jeremy yelled as he raced
into the living room where his mother was sitting, awaiting his return from
school.

"Well, dear, that makes two of us. I have something important to tell you, too".

Jeremy stopped. His mother had a funny look in her eyes, a signal to Jeremy that
she was up to something - something to Jeremy's disadvantage. "Uh, well, you go
first, Mom", he offered.

"No, darling, what did you want to tell me?" she replied smoothly.

"It can wait. What was your important news?"

"Well, I was thinking about what you said about wishing you had an uncle. I also
took into consideration what you and, er, Willi talked about after you went to
bed the night before your party"

"Mom! You were listening?!" Jeremy bellowed, aghast. He was used to his mother
listening to noises that Jeremy made in the night, or in the bathroom, but he
never dreamed she would eavesdrop on conversations he might have with other boys.
He made a mental note to take more care in future, or he ran the risk of losing
his few friends very quickly.

"Well, I could hardly wear a pair of ear muffs to bed, now, could I?" Mrs
Chambers protested. "I realised that when you talked about doing 'stuff' with an
uncle, that you weren't only referring to parent-child male bonding, but sexual
curiosity as well"

"Mom!" Jeremy burst out, but he could see she was not perturbed in the least by
his dismay.

"So, I read up on the subject of man-boy sexual interaction, and it appears that,
in some limited circumstances, the effects on the boy are not completely adverse.
I also discovered that most boys go through a same-sex oriented phase just
around the beginning of puberty, which can last for days, weeks, months, or in
some cases, years or even a lifetime. And that some boys appear drawn towards
boys of the same age, such as you and Willi-"

"Mom" Jeremy moaned, but he knew it would be in vain.

"-and some are attracted to older men. Or in your case, the idea of an older man,
since you've never had much to do with actual men. So, I got in touch with
another old school friend of mine, you wouldn't know her, she's got two boys,
one's about your age, Isaac she called him, he's quite musically gifted. So
anyway, she sends Isaac for piano lessons once a week, costs her thirty dollars
an hour. One week, after Isaac came home from the lesson, she found the thirty
dollars still in his pocket, so she decided to follow him to the piano lesson
the next time, and she burst in on them, Isaac and the piano teacher, and saw
Isaac kneeling on the floor next to the piano, with his mouth on the teacher's-"

"MOM!" yelled Jeremy, covering his ears. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Mrs Chambers paused her lurid narrative. "Isn't it obvious, Jeremy? I was
looking for a man for you, a man that would do stuff. I think now would be a
good time for you to go to your room. In fact, I think I'll go with you"

Jeremy's face showed complete bewilderment. It was still early afternoon. He
wasn't aware of having done anything wrong, and besides, Mom never sent him to
his room as a punishment. Usually she made him explain to her in minute and
excruciating detail what he had done, and how he was going to make amends for it.
He followed her to his room, where she stepped aside after entering.

Jeremy's mouth gaped open as he saw who else was in his room (besides his Mom).
There was a man in bed - His bed! - covered to the waist by a bedsheet - His
sheet! The man looked to be about thirty years old, with a hairy chest, and was
lying comfortably in Jeremy's bed, smiling, with his hands behind his head.
There was a little tent in the sheet at the man's crotch, suggesting he was
naked and erect under the sheet!

Mrs Chambers had a silly grin on her face. "Jeremy, I'd like you to meet Trevor,
he's a piano teacher. Trevor, this obviously is my son Jeremy, whom I told you
about. So, Jeremy, just slip your clothes off and hop into bed with Trevor,
you've got another-" she consulted her wristwatch "- fifty minutes before he has
to go give a piano lesson. I'll just wait here". Mrs Chambers pulled up a chair.

"MOM!" Jeremy screamed when his power of speech returned. "You can't - I can't -
"

"Would you prefer I wait in the kitchen? Only I've discussed with Trevor the
kinds of things he'd like to do with you, and it all seems fairly
straightforward to me - if a little messy. He assured me that he'll be very
gentle with you, and that in time, you'll enjoy being with him. He told me he
thought you're a very good looking boy, by the way - I showed him some of those
photos I took of you at the nudist beach we went to, you know, the ones where
you have an erection and are sticking your finger in your-"

"MOOOM!" Jeremy wailed as he ran from his bedroom, through the living room and
out the front door into the street.

Mrs Chambers shrugged her shoulders at Trevor. "I wonder what's got into him?
Hormones again, I suppose. Well, you may as well get dressed, Trevor, I don't
expect he'll be back inside fifty minutes. Sorry I got your hopes up for
nothing", she added, glancing at the now collapsing tent in the bedsheet.

** **

Martin heard the pounding at his door before the wailing. The combination of
noises was so abrupt he thought his television set had somehow switched itself
on to one of those awful reality shows. It didn't take long for him to track
down the source of the terrible racket, and answer his front door. Jeremy fell
through Martin's doorway and grabbed the bewildered man around the waist, still
emitting a woe-filled howl.

Not having a great deal of experience with distressed eleven-year-old boys,
Martin was at a bit of a loss as to what to do next, but his common sense, and
prudence, suggested he should at least shut the door. A pat on the boy's head
seemed in order, and maybe sitting down. Jeremy, however, would not relinquish
his grip on Martin's waist, so the man simply backed towards his sofa and fell
carefully onto it, dragging the crying boy with him.

Martin supposed that the obvious thing to do would be to ask the boy, who seemed
quite cheerful only fifteen minutes earlier when he bumped into him on the
street, what the problem was. But he decided that the boy probably needed to cry
more than talk just at that time, so he followed the maxim of caution: 'When in
doubt, do nothing'. He got as comfortable on the sofa as the circumstances
allowed, and waited for Jeremy's howl to subside to sobs.

Jeremy eventually permitted Martin to unwrap his arms and turn him around to sit
on his lap, embracing him with a full cuddle, complete with back patting and
light hair ruffling. Martin figured Jeremy should be the first to speak, so he
simply held, and patted, and ruffled, and waited.

"She's doing it on purpose", Jeremy finally whimpered through a cascade of
hitches in his voice.

"Oh? Doing what?" Martin asked softly.

"Ruining my life. I wish she'd never had me. I was just some kind of...biology
experiment", Jeremy moaned.

Martin knew enough about kids not to contradict with insincere and ill-informed
commentary such as 'I'm sure your mother loves you'. Better to let the boy say
all of what's on his mind before trying to help. "Things are pretty tough, huh?"
he remarked neutrally.

"She's got this guy over there I never met before, and she expects me to go to
bed with him!" Jeremy shouted angrily. Now, most adults on hearing such an
outrageous claim would immediately call the cops and have the boy's mother
arrested on a morals charge. But the boy seemed so happy earlier this afternoon
- and he knew the mother to be a little eccentric, from what he had seen with
his own eyes that time at the bus stop.

"You didn't want to do that?" Martin murmured gently.

"No! I wanted to do it with you instead. But she ruined everything! She always
does!" More tears followed. Martin was struggling to understand what the boy
meant. 'Do it with him instead'? What did the boy mean by 'do it'? Did he mean
'do IT'?

"You can stay here with me, if you like. Until you're...feeling better", Martin
offered.

Jeremy looked up into Martin's face, then, on an impulse, threw his arms around
the man's neck and kissed him hard on the lips. He'd never done that, to anyone,
before. Then, for the next hour and a half, he gave Martin an abbreviated
account of his life up to that afternoon. He left nothing out, starting from his
mother's version of the Virgin Birth. Even the things he would never tell to a
boy his own age. Martin sat silently and listened. Eventually, Jeremy talked
himself out, and yawned.

"May I carry you to bed? Strong emotions can be very draining, Jeremy. You have
a nap, then we'll get a pizza for dinner. If it's okay with you, I'll just go
across the road and tell your mother where you are. Is that alright?" The boy
nodded his approval of the plan, and co-operated when Martin unlaced his shoes
and removed his socks. He lifted his butt when Martin pulled down his shorts,
and sighed when Martin pulled the blanket up to his neck and gave him a little
smooch on the forehead.

** **

"Mrs Chambers?" Martin asked when Jeremy's Mom answered his knock at the door,
although he knew it must have been her. Not many mothers in the street wore
peasant dresses and macramé ponchos, after all. "I'm Martin Cooper, your
neighbour from across the street and down a few doors. I met your son, Jeremy,
this afternoon, well, we met by accident, really, he bumped into me on the
pavement just outside your gate. Uh, he's at my house right now, having a sleep,
he knocked on my door a little while ago, he was pretty upset-"

A dawning of understanding showed on Mrs Chambers' face. She stepped aside to
allow Martin in to her home, then led him to the kitchen, offering him a cup of
coffee. "The water's just boiled', she said.

"Thanks", Martin replied. "Jeremy- uh, told me a whole bunch of things that are
none of my business" - here he looked at Mrs Chambers for some kind of
confirmation, but she was busying herself at the sink - "and he was pretty
distraught, and emotionally drained, so I put him to bed". He waited for Mrs
Chambers to respond, and it occurred to him that he had put himself in a rather
vulnerable position: if Mrs Chambers were to call the Police, and tell them that
her eleven year old son was at this minute in this unrelated man's bed...

"I've tried to be a supportive mother, I really have, Mister Cooper. When Jeremy
asked me if he had any uncles, I tried to supply him with one. Did he really
bump into you in the street? And then run to your house when he was...upset? It
looks to me like he's chosen his own uncle. How do you feel about taking on the
job? The pay's lousy, and the hours are terrible, but he's a good boy, at heart"

Martin was understandably taken aback by Mrs Chambers' request. At a loss for
words, he looked around the kitchen for inspiration. From where he sat, he could
also see half of the living room through a large archway. Seeing a familiar box
on the sideboard, and desperate for an opportunity to change the subject, he
asked "Are those...condoms?" unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"I bought them for Jeremy. Well, you never know, do you, nowadays. But if you're
willing to be tested, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement..."

Martin understood, in an instant, where Jeremy had been coming from in his
outpouring of misery. "Mrs Chambers, when Jeremy wakes up, I'm going to tell him
I'll be his...uncle, or whatever. If he wants to come see me sometimes, that's
okay. Probably better if he phones first, to make sure I'm home. If he wants me
to take him to sporting events, or fishing, or weekend hikes, well, I guess
that's okay too. No, it's more than okay, I'd be glad to. And if Jeremy wants to
talk to me about sex, I'll listen, and answer as best I can"

Mrs Chambers gave Martin a grateful smile. "And if he want to do more than
talk?" she asked, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

Martin smiled back. "What would you recommend, Mrs Chambers?"

"You seem to have a way about you, Mister Cooper. A way of putting people at
ease. Jeremy wouldn't have run to just anybody today, I'm sure. He knows he has
my permission to...experience life in all its richness. I'm prepared to rely on
his judgement. I'll only say...that I would be a very bad enemy".

Martin smiled inwardly at this obviously empty threat, but nodded at Mrs
Chambers graciously and returned towards his home. She apparently had just given
him carte blanc to have sex with her son (if that's what Jeremy wanted). When he
walked through his front foorway he saw Jeremy out of bed, sitting on the sofa -
wearing only his underpants - watching television.

"I saved you a seat, Martin", Jemery said, smiling, patting the sofa alongside
himself. Martin obliged and sat next to his new 'nephew'. "Did you kiss me when
you tucked me in before?"

Martin put on his best 'caught in the act' look and confessed that yes, he
couldn't resist, especially as Jeremy had kissed him previous to that on this
very sofa.

"Why do people kiss?"

Martin realised that having a nephew wasn't going to be a free ride, if Jeremy's
first question was anything to go by. "Well, Jeremy, I guess because it feels
nice - there's lots of nerve endings in your lips, after all, I think, and it
makes the other person feel nice, and loved. It's a way of saying 'I like you'
without words. Like a handshake says 'hello' without words".

Martin's answer seemed to be just what Jeremy needed to hear, becuase he
stretched up and gave his new 'uncle' a little peck on the lips. Martin's arm
encircled the boy and stroked him lightly on the back, his hand dropping down to
Jeremy's undie-clad bum. "Do you usually get around the house in just undies?
Not that I mind, of course"

It was Jeremy's turn to put on the guilty face. "Well, I kinda wanted to see
whether you'd tell me to put some more clothes on or not. Or if you were gonna,
you know, fool around, like..."

"And did I pass the test?" Martin asked, surprising himself with his own
calmness.

Jeremy pondered for a moment. "I guess you passed okay", he confirmed. He
thought a bit longer and added "Y'know, you are allowed to yell at me if I do
something wrong. Or just tell me to go home for a while. Or, maybe if you want
to, y'know, fool around some, you haven't gotta wait for me to start, 'cause
I...haven't done it before, either. Just because I was...y'know, crying before,
doesn't mean I'm, like, fragile. This...stuff must be new for you too, I guess".

Martin was impressed by the maturity of Jeremy's opinions, couched as they were
in juvenile idiom. "You know, Jeremy, what I think we need is a secret password.
Something that says 'I still like you but I don't like what we're doing right
now and I want it to stop'. A word that either of us can use if we want to put a
complete halt to whatever is happening, without blaming the other person or
anything like that. Say for example I was tickling you. You might yell out 'Cut
it out!' but not really mean it, so you really want me to keep doing it. but if
you use the secret password, everything would stop".

Jeremy gave his uncle a knowing smile. "I know exactly the perfect word -
'Mother'!"

end

parrafan@ureach.com