The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica. Volume 3

Mothering by Jacqueline Lucas

It wasn’t maternal.

It was very confusing.

I’m looking through a 21 mm lens and all his features are exaggerated. The red quiff. The black and white check three piece drape. The brothel creepers. Curling up towards me. The skin of a child. Fair. Milky. Soft as a cream bun. The injections are working. I can feel them. Soon I’ll be ready to haul my fat arse down to the clinic for the egg collection. In the meantime. There’s this little job. And I’m telling him he’s gorgeous. It’s just right. Could he lean into the lamp post. Incline his head just a touch. Show us your teeth. And I’m getting closer. I had no close-ups in mind but here I can feel his breath. He’s sucking on a lolly. It’s bulging out his cheek and I don’t know if it fits the shot but I want to be the rhubarb and custard flavoured dome in his wee little gob being alternately sucked upon and layered in a good slather of saliva with a good tongueing all the way around. And he knows. And he likes it. And as far as everyone else is concerned. There’s a weird mutton dressed as lamb taking photees in the Glasgow drisel of a summer’s day of a boy. Not yet known. Not yet holding back, and self assured, and keeping a low profile, and covering his arse and cynical. A touch. Here’s a young lad full of pleasure for his drape. His quiff. His hair wash at the end of the day. His ministering. The make up girls. The hairdos. The costume fiddling. And all those girls just waiting on him. All those girls just waiting on him. All those girls not ready to knock off till the last strand of his deep red hair is given a good rinse. And here. He’s staring back into a lens that’s closer and closer. And it’s manned by a girl.

A woman rather. With long black wavy hair. Who’s come specially for him. To look through one lens after another. One camera after another. Tell him he’s just the fucking business. And she seems to understand he’s got that extra bit. The look that means he’s worth it. He’s worth getting it bloody well right because he’s heading off this Glasgow shoot and out of this drizzle for L fucking A. For London for sure.

FOR AN AGENT THAT COUNTS. AFTER THIS MOVIE. AFTER THIS BREAK. AND THIS GIRL’S A GOOD SIGN. AND SHE’S LOOKING INTO MY EYEBALLS AND I JUST MIGHT FIND MYSELF PULLING DOWN ON THAT DARK BLACK HAIR CAUSE SHE UNDERSTANDS. SHE CAN JUST SEE. I CAN TELL.

I’m on to group shots now. And I’ve got two of them waiting. But I can’t stop. On these two. And I don’t know who to look at. Cause now there’s the naughty one with the dark curls and the side burns and he’s so cute. You’re just tremendous, boys. Will you look into the camera now. Will you lift your chin. What of a smile? Shall we go for a grin? Try a rollie again. Yes, give me the smoke. Let it out slow. No. Not you. Just that look you gave me there. You know the one. Try that again. You boys are just bloody amazing. D’you know that? And I’ve a mind to lay this fucking apparatus down on the damp ground and hold the poor wee boys’ heads together in my palms and kiss them both. Licking the outline of their cupid bows. One, after the other. Taking my saliva to follow their teeth. Lap at their tongues. A messenger bringing saliva from number 1 to number 2. And I don’t even know their names. Just their movie characters. And I know they know.

That they’d go along happily and excited cause it’s all new and a lark and

HELL THIS FILM IS JUST THE BEGINNING FOR ME AND SHE’S GIVING ME THAT PIERCING LOOK AND I KNOW SHE CAN SEE IT’S ME THAT HAS IT. THAT EXTRA WEE DOLLOP OF SEXUAL CHARISMA OR SUMMAT,

After the self congratulatories in the pub on Renfrew street I commandeer the lads. Like help us with the shopping, boys, my arms free, my steps jaunty with anticipation. They trundle my tripods, lenses and bodies past the chief cook and bottle washer of my tastefully decorated upmarket accommodation. This time she doesn’t press her mushroom risotto, merely lets me feel her eyeballs on my back as she and her son watch from the empty dining room. Great shoot! I call to my friend of last night, strain for the plaque “visitors not allowed”.

I lay them out like a box of Belgian chocolates fresh from their latest double whisky. I couldn’t risk it. I need my clear head. I take it deadly serious and discourage any giggling. They’re nervous. They can tell I mean business. The room is dead quiet. They are lying on twin beds in their clothes like two good soldiers ready for action. But with no guns or ammunition or nothing. Just waiting orders. And I’ve to keep the atmosphere silent and maybe a touch menacing or we all might lose it. It’s like our minds are all in tune and know it. Know the danger of it. Know this need could disappear before we find a place to put it. They never take their eyes off me and they never look at each other. Not that I saw. One look and it’d all be over.

I’m lying here petrified and excited. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not with a woman. Not since I was fifteen and Cathy stuck her tongue in my mouth and pushed her bosoms round my chest. It was awful. And I was drunk. Now I’m pleasantly floating from the booze but I’m well in my body. And I’m scared. I don’t know what will happen. Or even what I’d like to happen. And I can’t even think of him. I know he’s straight but what am I going to think when I see him starkers. I wonder if he’ll turn me on. And what if she wants us to do things for her. She looks exotic and worldly enough. I bet she’s got more up her sleeve than the lasses I’ve been around. But I don’t know if I should be doing this. Not with a woman. Not in this family-run hotel with the pink chintz curtains and the cupboard with the kettle and the shortbread biscuits. I thought I’d pride myself in not having ever. And here it’s a real older woman, for fuck’s sake, not even one of those skinny types that looks like a boy. This is just the weirdest thing. Maybe I should just breathe deeply and relax.

She’s got her clothes on. But I can see her belly under her short top. She looks like a belly dancer or something. She’s curvy and soft. Strange. But I think I like it. Oh, God. She’s taking off his things. I’m either pissed or she’s doing it slow motion. I wonder if she knows about me.

Knows what I’ll do if I lean my head in slow motion to watch them. My God.

I suppress the desire to pick up the body with the macro lens, hone in on the balls till they loom like the twin heads of an extra terrestrial, the pricks two species of cacti bursting with life-giving juice. The scene shifts to heightened colour and me so keen on black and white.

THIS WOMAN IS SO WILD. I COULD SCREAM I’M THAT READY. SHE’LL SEE JUST AS SOON AS MY KIT’S OFF. I’D LIKE TO HAVE HER ALL TO MYSELF. BUT YOU CAN TELL SHE’S INTO WILD STUFF. AS LONG AS SHE’S NOT WANTING ME AND HIM TO DO STUFF. I DON’T THINK I’M UP FOR IT. IF I HAD SOME E, MEBBE. MEBBE NOT. OHMYGOD. THERE’S A VIDEO CAMERA STOOD ON A TRIPOD IN FRONT OF THE BATHROOM. IF I CLOSE MY EYES IT’S BETTER. I CAN FORGET HIM FOR THE MINUTE. AND THE CAMERA. SHE WOULDN’T, WOULD SHE?

THIS IS JUST AMAZING. I THINK SHE’S MY T-SHIRT IN HER MOUTH FOR FUCK’S SAKE. SHE’S LIFTING IT UP SO SLOWLY I CAN SCREAM AND I CAN FEEL HER TONGUE BRUSHING MY CHEST AS IF BY MISTAKE. I’M SWEATING. I HOPE MY ARMPITS. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHE’S LICKING AT MY ARMPITS. SHE’S LAPPING AT THEM. FIRST ONE AND THEN THE OTHER. I CAN FEEL HER SNIFFING AT THEM LIKE A PUPPY. IT’S LIKE SHE’S STILL WATCHING ME ONLY CLOSER THIS TIME. OH, FOR GOD’S SAKE I’M GOING TO WET MYSELF.

I’m going to finish this chest routine with a good long suck of his nipples and a nuzzle in his non-existent chest hairs. Gee. They’re as cute as a scatter of pubes on a very young boy. I can feel him breathing quicker. And the silence. And I want to look at the other one but I daren’t break the spell. Just imagine a freeze frame in close-up cutting back to a wide shot. It’s criminal not to get my gear out but I can’t do both. Shoot and perform, snap and choreograph. I’m not going to take the top off. I’m going to leave him with his jeans round his ankles not touching and just stroll over to number 2. Just as well it’s not a double. A twin at £55.00 per night for single occupancy. It makes it easier to keep it dead serious.

My God. I can see his stiffy. It’s not as big as I thought. But thick and a fair size with red pubes, for fuck’s sake. He looks a beauty and the youngest I’ve seen like this. I go for older. He’s a beautiful pale skin and I’m hard just watching. I’ve no idea how I’ll look at him on set. I wonder if he’s not as straight as I thought. Can you imagine that. And I thought I was already a bit of a streetwise. Jesus. She’s at me now.

She’s not on my top. She’s unzipping me with her teeth. And it’s nice. I can feel the tip of her nose on my Y fronts. God. She’s sniffing me! It’s as well I’m clean as a whistle. She’s sniffing around my crotch and my trousers round my knees and her hair’s tickling my thigh. She’s tickling me with her tongue. And I’m so stiff I want her to take me and she’s biting me through my Y’s and Jesus Christ. I’m in her mouth now. She knows. She just knows. When to give me a slow lick around the tip and when to give me a good sucking. And I’m making these noises I make now. And I don’t even care he can hear me and I wish he’d leap up and ram his cock in but she knows and she’s teasing my arse with her fingers and tickling inside me with her tongue.

She’s whispering now. I’m your mother. She tells me. You need a good sucking my poor baby and you know I always look after you and she tells me to stroke myself gently now while mummy goes to sort out my brother who’s in agony she says and needs to wet himself.

I WATCH HER GIVE HIM AN INCREDIBLE TEASING BLOW JOB. AND THEY SAY HE’S INTO BOYS. I’M SCARED TO TOUCH MYSELF IN CASE I COME I’M SO WIRED UP AND SHE’S HERE. OHMYGOD HER HEAD’S DEEP BETWEEN MY LEGS AND SHE’S TURNING ME OVER AND LICKING MY BALLS AND NOW SHE’S WHISPERING. SHE WANTS ME TO PLAY GAMES NOW. SAYS I’M HER BROTHER. SHE’S MY OLDER SISTER AND SHE’S COME TO SHOW ME WHAT’S WHAT CAUSE I’VE BEEN EYEING HER UP FOR MONTHS AND SPYING ON HER IN THE BATH AND NOW SHE’S GOING TO GIVE IT TO ME. I BET THAT VIDEO’S GETTING ME AND SHE’S ROLLING ME OVER AND I FEEL SORT OF HELPLESS. THERE’S A ROLL OF FILM AND A CAMERA ON THE TABLE WITH THE PHONE BETWEEN ME AND HIM AND I CAN’T LOOK AT HIM BUT I CAN SEE HIM WANKING OUT THE CORNER OF MY EYE AND HE’S MAKING THESE SOUNDS AND I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THEM. BUT BEFORE I CAN THINK ABOUT WHAT THEY REMIND ME OF SHE’S TELLING ME TO BEG HER LIKE A BROTHER TO TAKE ME INSIDE HER.

I’M THAT CONFUSED I FEEL SHE’S MY BROTHER AND I’M BEGGING HER TO FUCK ME. TAKE ME. I WANT YOU TO TAKE ME AND SHE’S RIDING ME. AND ONLY NOW I SEE HER BODY. CURVY. HER BREASTS ROUND AND FIRM AS THEY RIDE IN AND OUT MY LINE OF SIGHT. BEYOND HER THERE’S SOMETHING FAMILIAR ON THE TV. MY EYES ARE SHUT AND I FEEL LIKE A GIRL AND SHE’S MY BROTHER OR MAYBE HIM WITH HIS NOISES GIVING ME A GOOD BANGING AND I’M SCARED AND I CAN’T KEEP THIS UP MUCH LONGER IF SHE DOESN’T STOP.

This is speeded-up Super 8 like a home movie only it needs soundtrack like a trip to the beach or scary rides at Thorpe Park on the big screen shot in Steadicam, with cranes and 360 degree turns like Tarantino or de Palma. I’m taking them higher and higher riding the waves above the empty restaurant, available for private functions with her gourmet four-course dinner menu, including drink and coffee at £26.50 p.p.

She’s making me keep up this long slow pull. She’s her breast in my mouth and she tells me it’s feeding time. Her baby’s starving and she’s my mother. And I don’t know why. But when she tells me this she takes my cock in her mouth to clean me she says. And I know he’s watching and I can hear my sounds as if they come from another room. From another place. Mother! I sob. Mother!

And the room turns quiet from all of our breaths. Nothing moves except for my shaking and the sound of this voice muffled as if from another time. Somewhere else.

Mother!

I cry.