Ahh Mother's Day. Where needy mothers everywhere force their sons to stop what they are doing and celebrate the one time in your 23 years where they shot you out of a hole in a bloody mess and called it a miracle.
Ok I may sound a little down on my mother but she was a bit much on Mother's Day. 9 years ago to the day I forgot to get her a card. It was a war crime that still has not been rectified as it is brought up as a stark reminder every year to make sure not to forget this momentous day.
I love my mother but this holiday is rigid with expectations and protocol.
The day usually starts with me bringing her tea and breakfast in bed. Why anyone would want 1) me to cook for them and 2) eat biscuits and pancakes in bed is beyond me.
So this Mother's Day started just like that and I walked into the bedroom almost tripping over our cat Henry and giving her breakfast. The biscuits, the pancakes, the tea and of course one flower in a small vase. Then practically bowing and not turning my back to her royal highness as I left the room to go get ready for church.
I don't need to go over that part of the day. Basically we go, sing a bit, listen to some hilarious story about an insecure and wrathful god trying to test some poor man's faith by basically asking him to go full Shining on his son.
That was the entertaining part. The rest kept putting me to sleep. Luckily for me, my mom was on watch and anytime I dozed off she would slap my hand with a hymnal. Didn't matter I had been up at 4am trying to make several test runs of her damn biscuits, but it ruined her perfect day.
Now dinner was always us going to the same steak restaurant every year and ordering the same thing. She the steak, well done, because who needs to taste the meat. At dinner I had ordered a glass of wine to take my edge off and this apparently set my mother off. She cried halfway through because she was afraid she raised a kid with an addiction and was responsible because she gave her son a sip of wine when he was 14.
I should point out this was the first drink I had since Christmas, so obviously not a problem, and I was 23.
Anyway after drying her tears and heading to the car and throwing her in the back like Miss Daisy. I drove off to a nice surprise I wanted to give her. My mother loved gardening. She found it was a great way to relax, unwind and avoid the family for most of the day and drink wine. And she worries I have a problem.
We got to Florence's Garden Center off of Highway 73. It is an adorably tragic nursery with oversized gnomes outside, and acres of different plants, flowers, trees etc.
When we got there I told her that I wanted to get her a new flower bed and she practically wet herself on the spot. She smiled. I smiled. We hugged. She cried. I tried to cry. It was a touching moment that would have the Beavers jealous.
As we walked around she took the time to tell me about every plant and its history. What is funny is I am pretty sure she was making things up. Like I am pretty sure that was a bluebonnet not blueberries but hey, this makes her happy.
When we were still in section 1 of 45 I saw a guy, about my age, organizing some small carnation plants in the corner. In the greenhouse, the light shined down and made his hair practically glow like an angel. See if he had been in church I would have stayed awake.
He looked up and caught me staring. I froze like one of the gnome statues outside. I wanted to move but I couldn't. His stare had me locked in place. So I did what any self-respecting guy would do. I ducked. The problem is I did it quicker than I should have and there were no plants down there. So I am sure I looked completely unhinged as I hit the dirt.
I took a deep breath, happy I escaped any awkwardness and turned to make my escape. Though the problem with my plan was when I turned around he was there waiting for me. His hands on his hips and a smile that made me want to melt.
"Do you need help with something," he said laughing and showing off some serious dimplage. Is that a word.
Well now it is.
He had amazing dimplage!
"No, just wanted to tie my shoe," I said, lying confidently.
His eyes slowly made their way down my body, and I thought he was checking me out, starting to get a little tight in my pants. Not going to lie. Until they kept going down to my slip-on Vans. Catching me in a lie.
I looked down in panic and he patted me on the shoulder, his eyes lingering on mine giving me hope.
"Well if you need anything let me know," he said.
"Will do," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Name's James," he said, giving me that dimplage again.
He walked off and I could almost swear he was laughing at me. I let out the biggest wtf breath I had ever made and went to find my mother. She was busy organizing azaleas by size and I almost thought she had gotten a job there if I hadn't seen her already half-full buggy.
"Oh Daniel! Look at these azaleas, wouldn't they look so lovely in our front yard."
Ok this is one of the dangers with my mother. It seems like the obvious answer would be yes and make her happy. Ha, no. Nice try. Let's show what she would say if I said yes.
She would first think a moment. Her finger tapping her cheek lost in thought. Then she would say.
"Daniel. You obviously don't have gardening in your blood like me. The azaleas would overpower the front yard and completely throw off the layering in the back."
Btw. I learned to BS from her. Not as good but almost there. So you can all thank her.
While we were walking around section 2 I kept seeing James in different areas working. I use that word loosely because every few minutes we kept making eye contact.
First it was over the orchids. Then the lilies. Followed by some small sunflowers. Each time longer and with more suggestive looks that made me hot all the way down to my roots.
Oh god. Being around all these plants is starting to affect me.
So as me and mom were heading into section 3, James nodded at me to follow him.
Holy Rose of Sharon, he decided to go to a bathroom! My heart skyrocketed in my chest and I could feel myself getting worked up in my pants.
I followed him along the path of Jasmine and Daisies. My hands running across the top of them as I matched his pace. Him looking back to make sure I was following him with a wicked smile.
Is he going to blow me? Want me to blow him? How does his ass feel? You know all the normal things you think about at a nursery.
As I walked into the restroom, I saw one stall didn't have a door and the other an out of order sign. On top of that, there was no privacy for the urinals. Well that sucks. So this wasn't going to be the hot steam romp I had playing in my mind.
Still. I wanted to see where things went.
He smiled as I walked over to him and we stood facing each other. His dimplage returning and I could feel that heat that builds under your collar. He definitely had an effect on me. So in the restroom we were exposed, anyone could walk in, and I could see he was stroking himself and keeping his eye on the door.
I took mine out, but my nerves were keeping me from getting fully excited right there. Luckily I am a shower and a grower.
James was peering down, his eyes wide with appreciation.
"Soo," he said, still keeping an eye on the door, "wanna fool around a bit?"
"I...I...here?" I said, not wanting to go to jail.
He just laughed at my silly nature. "No. There is a shed tucked away. We can, you know, if we are quick."
I swallowed what felt like all my spit in one moment. Then choked very suave-like.
"But...my mom," I said.
"I have an idea," he responded with a gleam in his eye.
He zipped up sadly and we split up.
My mother was over by the roses, smelling each like they were testers for perfume. My heart was beating through my chest at this point knowing any moment I could be balls deep in the garden boy.
My mother was going on about why thorns had needles to help bees rest to help pollinate them. I rolled my eyes when a younger nursery assistant who was not James came over.
"HI THERE," she said with more energy than I thought possible. My mother surprisingly matched her energy. The new girl, whose name tag said Jessica, said she saw my mother looking and that she had an eye for gardening. My mother gushed so much that I thought South Korea could hear my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Christ.
They volleyed back and forth about floral trivia and she offered to show my mother a special collection in the back they just got in. My mother accepted and I said I could use a break and get some water. Too much excitement, you know.
She left me, just like she did one summer in Target once. Left me in the store when I went to look at video games. It was 57 minutes until she came back looking crazed and blamed me for leaving without her child.
Mothers.
I ran off trying to find James with a look much like my mother's that day in Target. I saw his blonde hair over by a shed, checking his cellphone and looking around.
"James!" I said, whisper-shouting, and he turned around and jerked his head around, his eyes searching for other people.
He nodded for me to follow.
We found a green shed that was just behind a trellis of ivy. It looked like it had seen better days. It was wooden, the paint bleached in the sun and the wood at the bottom looked like it had a year or two of life in it. All in all not the worst place I've done it in.
He opened the shed door and ushered me in until we were face to face in the dark. Just the light from the top of the door peeking in.
"My mom...not sure how long we have. She is talking to someone," I said in some awkward verbal morse code.
"Yeah, Jessica is my best friend and her dad owns the store. I had her distract your mom while we," he said, as he grabbed my crotch and rubbed me through my white shorts. Giving me a playful wink.
I was not hard yet again. The mix of my mother in close proximity and my nerves taking their toll.
James just looked at me with a look that made me want to let him do anything he wanted. His mouth pushed up against mine and our tongues found each other. I felt his body with my hands, sliding them up his Garden Center t-shirt and feeling his flat stomach and tight back muscles.
"We can't be too long," he warned before his mouth found my neck.
My neck is like the spot for me that sends me from 0 to 100 instantly. Once the tip of his tongue massaged the side of my neck I was no longer responsible for my actions.
I pushed him against the shed wall, causing a whole assortment of tools to bang, and him to hold up his finger to his mouth.
Reaching again for my crotch he noticed that I was at full mast. Finally.
He rummaged for my belt and unbuckled and undid my shorts, making them fall on top of the dead leaves littering the floor of the shed.
As he got to his knees he rubbed my legs, each hair that touched his hand sending a wave of pleasure through my body just as his mouth found my cock and slid down.
James was not new to this. His skill made me wonder how many times he had used this shed.
He made his way up and down, taking care of little Daniel with my mother only a few feet away.
How much longer could we do this.
Did I even care?
He removed his shirt, not wanting to get anything on his sacred Garden Center regalia. And removed his jeans. Standing naked. In all his beauty. OMG even his butt had dimplage!
I then heard my mother's cackling. It was far but still piercing.
We had to move this along.
Looking back at those dimples, my lips curled and I spun him around and spread his cheeks open. His skin had this dusting of light blonde hairs that called to me.
I soon was burying my tongue in him. Deep.
I was good at being a son. Even better at eating out.
My tongue swirled inside him causing his hand to move around the shed, finding something to hold on to.
He was moaning, louder than we should have been with customers so close.
I have always been able to extend my tongue pretty far, which was unfortunate for James as this made him moan louder until he was practically biting his arm off trying to be quiet.
He pushed me off of him and looked me dead in the eye with all the seriousness of a bank heist.
"I need you to fuck me now before your mom comes back," he said.
Ok, that sentence was half as long as it needed to be. We all know she can appear like Glinda in her bubble any moment. Let's not ruin the moment.
I spat on myself, missing the first time then hitting it the second. James braced himself on a wooden beam in the shed before I pushed up against him.
The heat coming off his body and the tightness made my fingers press into him harder. Church. Her crying. All this plant bullshit finally paying off. I could feel his muscle starting to relax and accept my cock. I was throbbing as I entered him, and he pushed off the beam to take all of me inside.
"Hold still. You are kinda big," he said, struggling to talk.
I didn't dare move. I could hear a windchime close by and used it to keep me from overheating.
Then he pushed back and forth, rocking the shed slightly.
Each thrust made a slight creaking noise.
I looked around making sure it wouldn't collapse on us.
James no longer seemed fazed. I could see him trying to glide down on me, but was struggling with my size.
He was making this whimper noise as he adjusted. He had tears in his innocent looking eyes, wanting me to be gentle.
Meanwhile I am back there, not having been with anyone in weeks and trying to jackhammer like I am trying to pay rent.
He finally relaxed and took me with ease. I must have been hitting his prostate because his moans were far from normal, switching from high to low.
While he is sounding like an angel being dropped into a blender, I felt myself getting closer.
I could feel the heat trapped in the shed getting warmer. Beads of sweat were pouring down our faces. Feeling dumb for making fun of his shirt earlier.
A wave of pleasure building and I knew we didn't have much time.
"Daniel," I swear I heard my mother's voice far in the distance.
Fuck her, this is my day now, I thought while getting close to the edge.
Then James, always one step ahead, started to finish. I could feel him shake and saw his release from the corner of my eye. His body flexing around me as it dug in.
I put everything I had deep inside him and felt myself finish completely, dripping out as I pulled back.
Splat. Onto the floor.
We both were out of breath and covered in a thick disgusting layer of sweat.
Our torsos touching as we both made out shirtless. I wanted to get a taste of those dimples one last time. So I pushed him against the door.
When I did, the door hinge snapped with a quick and sudden breaking sound and the shed door came crashing down, us with it.
Me lying on top of him, both shirtless, my pants still undone, no mistake about what had happened.
And there, no more than 4 feet away, was my mother.
Clutching her pearls and me my dimplage.
And that was the day I ruined two things.
James's butthole and Mother's Day.
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