Mark Becomes Marsha Pt. 05

Later that afternoon as she pulled into the driveway Laura looked at the four young trees they had planted along the front edge of their lawn earlier in the summer. Frank had sent Bobby McAlister out to plant the trees. Laura had been there to "help" him, which mostly meant she stood around and showed him where she wanted them planted.

She remembered how Bobby had worn a sleeveless t-shirt that day, and how his muscles flexed and rippled as he dug the holes and placed the bases of the trees in them. His arms and shoulders were tanned and glistened with sweat while he worked. She noticed a nice bulge in the front of his tight jeans.

She thought of that nice bulge now, and that her son Mark had discovered it, too. She parked her car in the garage and walked back out to take a closer look at the trees. She wanted to make sure they were getting plenty of water, and she wasn't quite ready to face Mark yet.

As she walked to the edge of the lawn she noticed Larry Marx across the street with his mother's little dog on a leash. She remembered his odd smile earlier in the bank. A slight shiver ran up her spine when she saw that he and the dog were crossing the street.

"Hi, Mrs. Grant," he called to her when they were close. "Your trees are looking good," he said.

"Yes, thank you, Larry," she smiled. "I haven't looked at them in a while, so I thought I'd check them before I go in to start supper for my husband." She said that last part to remind him that she had a husband. She'd gotten some creepy vibes from him in the past.

Larry let her walk slightly ahead of him to look at the trees so he could look at her skirt hugged her round ass. 'Maybe I'll want to get a sniff and taste of her, too,' he thought to himself.

"Hey, Mrs. G, quick question for you," he said.

"Yes?" she said without stopping or looking at him.

"Uh, well, I was wondering, you know, what Mr. G would think if he knew you were giving Bobby McAlister late night blow jobs out in your side yard?"

Laura stopped and turned to look at him. Larry smiled his creepy smile at her.

"What did you say?" she asked slowly, her eyes burning into his.

Larry started to get nervous. She wasn't flustered, or nervous.

"Uh, well, I saw you last night... I was out walking the dog and I saw Bobby pull into the lot on the other side of the trees and walk over here, and I was watching because I thought it might be someone going to do some harm to your house, but then I saw you come out of the shadows and... well, I watched it all. And I just figure you don't want your husband to know about it, so..." Larry tried to sound confident, like he was in control. But he suddenly didn't feel like he was in control.

Laura took a step closer to him. "You listen to me. You didn't see anything," she said, her voice a low growl. "And if you try to say you did, I'll tell my husband that you are lying. Who do you think he'll believe? A creepy little middle aged man who still lives with his mommy, or his wife of over 20 years? And how do you think he'll react? Do you really think this can have a good outcome for you?"

Larry tried to meet her gaze. But he knew she was right. He had no proof, and there was no reason to believe Frank Grant would believe him over his wife. But he couldn't let her totally win. He stepped back from her a little.

"I know what I saw, and you know what I saw," he said. "And our security cameras have a wide range and they saw it, too. It's going to look pretty bad for you if you say I'm lying and I show him proof, don't you think?"

"You're bluffing," she said, still staring hard at him. "Even if you have security cameras they won't show what is happening in our dark side yard at night. But I don't think you even have security cameras."

He could hear some hesitation in her voice. Maybe she was wavering a little.

"That's a pretty big gamble for you to take, isn't it?" He had regained his confident smile.

Laura smiled back at him. "I've always been a gambler," she said. "So you tell my husband what you claim you saw, and I'll tell him that you're lying, and we can see where it goes from there. Is that a gamble you're willing to take?"

Larry held her stare for a few seconds. "This isn't over," he said before he turned to walk back across the street.

Laura stood and watched him walk away. Her knees were shaking. Her stomach was churning. She wanted to turn and run into the house. But she didn't. She walked and looked at the last of her trees, then turned and walked to the house without even a glance across the street.

Mark had watched the whole exchange through the big front window. He was still in his mother's dress, bra, panties and hose. He still wore her clip-on earrings, and her make-up, and his heels. He could tell his mother as upset by the way she was walking and considered hurrying to his room to change. But he didn't.

Instead he greeted her as she came in from the garage.

"Hi, momma, is everything okay?" he asked when she came in from the garage. He noticed she was carrying a small bag from the drug store in town.

"Everything's fine," she said with a tense smile. She set the bag on the breakfast bar as she walked around it to get a fresh bottle of wine and two glasses.

Mark knew everything was not fine when she got two glasses. He knew one of them was for him.

"You look pretty today," she said as she poured wine in each glass.

"Thank you, momma," he said.

She set Mark's glass on the bar, then sat on the stool opposite his. "We need to talk."

Mark sat on one of the bar stools and took a drink of his wine. "I thought so," he said. "Has Mr. Marx seen me through the windows or something?"

"Or something," she said. She took drink of her wine.

"Mark, how long has this thing with Bobby McAlister been going on?" she asked. "And, is he the only one?"

"What thing, momma?" Mark asked. He wanted to find out much she knew before he answered too many questions.

"This thing where you dress up and give him a blow job out beside the house," Laura said frankly. She held her hand up when he started to talk. "Before you deny anything, I saw you last night. And so did Larry Marx. Except he thought it was me that met Bobby out beside the house."

"Oh, momma, I'm so sorry," Mark said, his voice trembling. "That was only the second time I've done that. The first was day before yesterday when he came by the house to borrow that tool from daddy."

Laura nodded. "I wondered about that, too," she said.

"So is that what Larry was talking to you about out there?" Mark asked.

Laura nodded. "Yes, Mark. He threatened to tell your daddy what he saw. I think he was getting ready to try to blackmail me."

Big tears rolled down Mark's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, momma," he said quietly. "I thought no one would see us if we did it back there. Did you tell Larry it was me and not you that he saw?"

Laura shook her head. "No. I told him he didn't see anything, and if he tried to say he did I'd call him a liar and that my husband would believe me and not him. But... this could be a problem, honey."

Mark was openly crying. "I'm sorry, momma. I won't do it anymore. Do you think he'll tell daddy?"

Laura shook her head. "No. And even if he does, your daddy will never believe him."

"Momma, I don't care if he knows it was me," Mark said. "And if he says anything to daddy we have to tell him it was me, too."

Laura smiled and reached across the bar to pat his hand. "Let me worry about what to tell your daddy," she said. She reached for the bag. "I got you some of your own make-up. You did a nice job on your make-up today, but I thought we agreed you wouldn't use my eye make-up anymore."

Mark sniffed and smiled. "I know, momma. I didn't use your mascara or eye liner," he said quickly. "Just a little shadow to give me some color."

"Well, it does look good on you." She spread the make-up she'd bought for him on the table. "But now you have your own shadow and lipsticks and blusher and mascara. And I got these make-up remover pads. Use them around your eyes, especially if you use mascara."

Mark looked through the items. "Thank you, momma," he said softly. "Thank you for understanding me."

Laura laughed just a little. "I'm not sure I understand you," she said. "But I know you need to do this, and I want to help when I can."

Another big tear rolled down Mark's cheek. "Momma, I promise I won't do that with Bobby anymore."

Laura sighed. "Well, I'm not asking you to be celibate," she said. "But let's think about it and see if we can come up with a better way than Bobby sneaking into our yard late at night. I mean, I would rather he just come over to the house and the two of you go in your bedroom."

Mark nodded sadly. "I don't think Bobby would do that," he said. "He doesn't want anyone to know he lets me su... do that... not even you... and especially not daddy."

Laura nodded. "Well, let's give it some thought and see what we can come up with."

Later Laura sat on the back patio with a much stronger drink, thinking about Mark and Bobby. She wondered how it got started, then remembered what Mark had said about Bobby coming over for a tool and finding him in a dress. Did Bobby force Mark so suck him? Intimidate him? But if he did why would Mark go to so much trouble to sneak out to give him a late-night blow job?

She had an idea forming in her head, but she needed to know more about how Mark felt. She drained her drink and stood to go talk to him.

She set her empty glass on the counter on her way through the kitchen to Mark's room. She stood in the door for a few seconds, watching her son type on his computer, no doubt in one of the chat rooms he liked. She'd worried that most of his friends were online friends. She'd noticed that he never had friends, either boys or girls, come to the house to socialize, and he rarely went out.

"Um, Mark honey, can I talk to you?" she said softly.

Mark didn't turn to look at her, but he nodded. He'd been expecting her to come to his room. "Sure, momma, come on in."

Laura walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. "Mark, I need to know some things. I need to know more about how it started with Bobby. Mark, did he force himself on you?"

Mark shook his head. "No, momma, he didn't force me. I wanted to do it." He turned to face her, but didn't look in her eyes. "And I liked it, momma. It made me feel pretty and sexy and girly to do that, and I liked it."

Laura smiled. "Ok. And you like it when he, uh, in your mouth, you know, when he shoots?"

Mark nodded. "Yes, momma, I like it when he does that. It's my favorite part. That's when I feel like a sexy woman."

Laura nodded. "I know what you mean," she said quietly. "Honey, is it just with Bobby? Or do you think you would like it with other men?"

Mark looked down at his hands. "I wish it could be just with Bobby," he said quietly. "But I know it can't be. He doesn't like me that way. I'm just a... a... "

"I know, honey," Laura said. "I know that feeling myself. When I was younger it was called a cum dump."

Mark laughed and nodded. "I've heard that," he said. "And I know that's what I am for Bobby." A big tear rolled down his cheek. He looked up at his mother. "You know the feeling yourself?"

Laura nodded. "Yes, honey. When I was young there was a boy. I wanted him to love me like I loved him. He told me if I loved him I'd give him a blow job. So I did. Then he wanted more. After I gave him my virginity he was through with me and started dating another girl."

"I'm sorry, momma," Mark said gently. "I know that must have hurt."

"Yes, it did. But I got over it. The good news was I learned that I didn't have to be in love to like giving blow jobs. My best friend and I, um, well, we earned a bit of a reputation."

Mark looked his mother, his eyes wide open. "You? You were slutty?"

Laura laughed. "Well, yeah, I guess you could say I was. Anyway, that's not what I came in to tell you. I just wanted to know how you feel about doing that. And you didn't answer me about other men... or boys."

Mark shrugged. "I guess I'd like it with other men, too."

"Mark, I think I know the answer, but have you been with a girl? Sexually, I mean."

Mark shook his head. "Girls don't want to be with boys like me, momma."

"You might be surprised," she said. "Do you want to be with a woman? I mean, if you found one who wanted to? Do you think you would like it?"

Mark thought about it for a few seconds. "I think I would like it," he said finally. "Momma, do women like, um, blow jobs?"

Laura giggled. "Oh, yes, honey, women like blow jobs."

"I think I'd like to do that to a woman, too," Mark said.

Laura nodded. "Okay. So, I'll let you get back to your friends on your computer." She got up to leave the room, but paused at the door and looked back. "Oh, and Mark, that last part... you know, where they shoot? That's my favorite part, too. And for the same reason. It makes me feel sexy. And kind of slutty." She smiled at him and pulled the door closed as she left.

Mark sat staring at the door, that final image of his mother in his head, that smile, that sexy, slutty smile.

"Holy crap!" he said to himself. "My mom was a slut!" And for some reason that caused a tingle in his panties.

Laura went to her room and closed the door to change out of her work clothes into more comfortable around-the-house-clothes. She took her bra and hose off and looked at herself in the full length mirror. She had aged, but she was happy with what she saw in the mirror. Her skin was still tight with no major sags or wrinkles. Her boobs had a crease under them, but her nipples were still perky. She had gained some ass in the past few years, but it was still fairly firm and only jiggled slightly when she walked.

She thought about her talk with Mark as she pulled a loose t-shirt off of a hanger. In the back of the closet she saw the sundresses she once wore most of the time. Why didn't she wear them anymore, she wondered to herself. They were comfortable. She wondered if Mark had worn any of them, but she didn't think so... he seemed to like the more form-fitting dresses, the ones she didn't like so much anymore. She put the t-shirt back and reached for a sundress.

She thought about her talk with Mark. She'd learned a few things- that he liked sucking dick and he liked to swallow cum. Like momma like son she giggled to herself.

But she still had some questions. What would he do if he had a chance to be with a woman? Would he stop wanting to suck dicks? Or even dressing up?

She took a glass of wine to the patio to think about what she knew... and her plan to help Mark.

Larry Marx sat in the Hillside Bar & Grill sipping a whiskey with a beer chaser, and thinking. He knew what he'd seen. But Laura Grant was right... he couldn't prove it. And she was right about something else. Even if he did tell Frank Grant what he saw he'd never believe him... especially when Laura told her husband it was a lie.

But maybe he could convince Frank that he had no reason to make up a story like that. Maybe he could convince Frank that he'd tell the story around town and that people in the town would believe him, and then they'd be gossiping about Mrs. Grant, and Frank didn't want that. Maybe he could still get some cash out of the Grants.

But he knew he was being foolish. He shook his head. How could he have such incriminating information about one of the pillars of the community and not have a way to cash in? It was the story of his life!

"Hittin' it hard tonight, huh Larry? Beer and whiskey? You want a refill?"

Larry looked up to see Pauline McAlister looking down at him. Pauline owned the Hillside and managed to scrape a meager living out of it. She hired someone to open early in the morning to serve coffee and breakfast to the working men in town and then she came in to help with lunch and stayed open late to serve drinks, mostly beer, to the men who were in no hurry to get home to their wives.

"Uh, yeah, Pauline," Larry said. "One of each." He indicated both of his empty glasses.

"You got it, babe," Pauline smiled.

She liked Larry. He was one of the few men that didn't make lewd remarks about her body and tell her nasty things he wanted to do to her.

She came back with the whiskey and beer for Larry, and a whiskey for herself, and sat down across from him in the booth.

"What's up, Larry?" she asked. "You look like you've lost your last friend."

Larry took a sip of his whiskey, then his beer, and shook his head. "Oh, nothing, Pauline," he said. "I just thought I'd finally found myself in a situation to make my life better and it seems like it's not going to work out."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Larry," Pauline said. She tossed back her shot of whiskey and stood up. She put Larry's empties and her empty on the tray, but didn't pick up the money Larry had put out on the table. "That one's on me," she smiled. "I hope you can get your situation worked out."

As Larry watched her walk away he suddenly realized exactly how she fit into this. She was Bobby's mom! Surely she wouldn't want a rumor that her son and Laura Grant were having an affair going around! He smiled slightly and downed his shot of whiskey. Maybe this could work out after all! He knew he couldn't get any cash out of Pauline. But maybe he could get a blow job. Or a chance to rub himself around on her big sexy ass. He gulped his beer down so that she would have an excuse to come back to his table.

"One more time, Larry?" Pauline called from behind the bar. Larry waved at her and smiled. 'Yeah,' he thought. 'Bring your sexy ass over here one more time.'

When Pauline came back with his drinks he looked up at her and smiled. "Can I talk to you real quick?" he asked her.

She looked around the small bar and didn't see anyone waving at her for a refill, so she sat down across from him again. "Sure. What's up?"

"So, you know that situation I told you, where I thought I could make my life better but it's not going to work out?" Larry said. Pauline nodded. "Well, it kind of involves your boy, too," he said.

"My son Bobby?" Pauline asked. "Is he in some kind of trouble?"

Larry shook his head. "Oh, no, nothing like that," he said quickly. "At least not yet."

Pauline leaned across the table. "Tell me how it involves my boy," she said, her voice low, almost a growl.

Larry was suddenly nervous about telling her. "Uh, well, you see, last night I was taking my mom's pup out to do his business, and I saw a truck pull in to that vacant lot next to the Grant's house. At first I thought it was just some young lovers looking for some privacy and didn't really pay attention. But then the driver got out and walked into those trees that separates the Grant's place from that lot, and I got curious."

"Okay," Pauline said when Larry stopped his tale to take a sip of is whiskey and a drink of his beer. "So what does this have to do with my Bobby?"

"Well, like I said, I was curious, so I put the dog back in the house and went across the street to see what was going on," Larry continued. "That driver of that truck was your boy. He was sneaking through the trees to the Grant's yard. So I kinda followed him to see what he was up to.

So when he walked out of the trees and into the Grant's yard I stayed in the trees and watched. And then I saw someone in the Grant's yard, by the side garage door. It was Mrs. Grant."

Pauline sat back. "Why in the world would Bobby be meeting Laura Grant beside her house so late at night?"

"Well, that's what I was wondering, too," Larry said. "But she walked out to meet Bobby and they talked for just a second, then Bobby unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his, uh, you know, his junk out, and Mrs. Grant got on her knees and uh, well, she gave him a blow job."

"No way!" Pauline said. "Why the hell would Laura Grant give my son a blow job? You must have been dreaming or something. How much did you have to drink yesterday?"