Page 2 of Red Snow
“Oh yeah. Lead the way, Big Boy,” she says, which sends a wave of nausea through me.
I swallow it down and lead the woman down the short hall and into the bedroom in the back of the trailer, bypassing the first room. The second we’re in front of my mother’s full-sized bed, she pushes me onto it and starts removing her black pants. She unbuttons them, wiggling her body back and forth like a stripper doing her best to earn a big tip, but I love it all the same. I smile at her, making eye contact with her like I’m not still recovering from coming a minute ago.
Once her pants are off, she pulls mine the rest of the way off and climbs on top of me. The brown-haired woman leans over and licks my neck, trying a little too hard to be sexy, and with so much pressure it tickles a little. I bite back my desire to chuckle when I realize I’m no longer hard. This woman is on top of me and I can feel how hot she is for me, but I lost my erection the second she climbed on top of me and started licking my neck.
She notices, and looks at me like she’s starting to feel a sting of disappointment.
“Well that’s not good,” she says playfully, but it still bothers me. “Why don’t I help you with that?”
Without hesitation, she’s sliding back down and sucking my dick into her mouth again. I lay my head back and try to enjoy it, but the whole thing has lost its magic. It’s like I have a mental block I have to fight to get through. But I need help, so I grab her by her shoulders and pull her up to me. I start kissing her neck and rubbing my hands over her ass, doing everything I can to get hard again. I slip a finger inside of her and she moans erotically, but it just isn’t enough.
Her hand is still on my dick, rubbing it with too much vigor and impatience as she whispers in my ear. “You like that? Come on Big Boy, get hard for me so you can fuck me. I know you know how to please a woman. I could tell from the moment I saw you tonight. Come on, get hard for me, baby.”
I try to listen to her, I really do. She sounds sexy enough, her breasts are phenomenal, she smells great, her hair is right, she’s the right height, she’s has the right look, but something is missing. Something I hate to admit. Something I can’t push away no matter how hard I try. It’s in me and I know it won’t go away. She made sure of that, and now I have to accept it. This moment proves it. So, I take a chance and go with it.
“Yeah, keep rubbing it,” I whisper to her, and she responds by smiling and picking up speed. “Yeah, like that. Now, call me Big Boy again.”
“Oooh, you like being called Big Boy, huh? Alright, does that feel good, Big Boy?”
“Yeah.”
“You like when I stroke your cock, Big Boy?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Now call me Son.”
The pace slows down.
“What?”
“Call me Son. Come on, just do it. I’m almost hard again.”
She hesitates, but I hear her swallow hard and get back to it. She strokes me and finally utters the words, but it’s not with the same sexiness as before.
“Okay. Is this what you want . . . Son?” I hear the apprehension in her voice, but I ignore it and try to focus on the word. It’s the word I really needed to hear this whole time, and I fucking hate myself for it.
“Yeah, say it again,” I tell her, but she stops.
“I don’t know. Son is a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Come on goddamn it, just do it!”
“Whoa, there’s nothing sexy about speaking to a woman that way.”
“Come on Mother, stroke my dick and call me Son! Do it!”
She recoils.
“What the fuck did you just say? Did you call me Mother? You called me Mother and you want me to call you Son? Oh my god, that’s disgusting. I’m not into Mother Son fantasies. Eww, no way. I’m fucking out of here.”
She jumps off of the bed like it’s covered with mice, and in two seconds flat, she has her pants, bra, and flannel back on. She sits down on the edge of the bed so she can put on her shoes, and I watch her from behind.
From the back, she almost looks like her. Same hair, same build. I watch her bending over to tie her shoes and I feel my body growing hot with a rage I’ve never felt before. My skin feels like it’s going to explode, like if I looked down at my arms, all the hair on them would be completely singed off. Thoughts of my mother crash around inside my head and my breathing becomes heavy. She looks back at me, and I can see fear in her face. The eye contact doesn’t last long, because she decides not to put on her other shoe at all. She picks it up and starts speed walking down the hall. I hear her heavy footsteps getting farther away, and I know she’ll be out the door soon. But she can’t go.
I jump out of the bed completely naked and sprint down the hall. She hears me coming and screams as she tries to run. She manages to grab the door knob and swing the door open, but before she can take a step out into the cold Alaska night, I grab her.
“You do not get to fucking leave! You goddamn motherfucking bitch!” I hear myself screaming, and I’ve never been this angry before.
She fights to get away, but I’m six-foot-one, two hundred and five pounds. She’s no match, and it takes very little effort to pick her up off of her feet and drag her back inside. She tries to scream, but I wrap my large hand around her mouth, snuffing out the sound before it can reach the night air.
“You disrespected me, you disrespected my mother’s house, and you disrespected my mother. No, you’re not fucking leaving.” Still holding her off the floor, I reach out with my leg and kick the door closed. It slams with a violent thud, and so does the woman when I turn around and toss her helpless body onto the floor in the middle of the living room.
“You’re not leaving,” I tell her again. “This is just the beginning.”
