"You have to help me, man. I'm serious, there's absolutely no work out there. It seems like everyone is trying to find a job, but no one is hiring. Even the Mexican guys can't find work, and they'll work for almost nothing. I don't know what to do anymore... Mom's garden is the only thing that keeps us from starving. But that won't matter if we don't come up with the money by the end of the month. They'll come, take it all, and throw us out on the street." Kevin put his head in his hands and held back rising emotions.



Josh looked at his friend, feeling sorry for him. "Look, Kev. I've already given you all that I could. You know I want to help but I have nothing else to spare. I have my own family to feed."



The two friends sat in silence in the kitchen of the house that Kevin's father built long ago. After Kevin's father died, he left behind the house and a large debt. It was left to Kevin and his mother to repay that debt. They were making payments up until the economy took a major hit. After a few late notices in the mail, they received a visit from a few burly guys that explained to them what would happen if they didn't pay.



Kevin looked up desperately. "I'll sell drugs!"



Josh shook his head. "You'll end up dead doing that. And anyway, you need money first to buy drugs before you can sell them."



They heard the back door open and looked in that direction. It was Kevin's mother, Paige, walking in with a basket of fresh vegetables.



"Oh! Hello, Josh," she greeted. "I didn't know you were visiting."



Josh smiled at her. "I just popped in for a moment." Josh had known his friend's mother ever since elementary school. She had always been a pleasant sight. She was of rather petite build and always cheerful. She had a likable face, with a wide, charming smile. Her skin was smooth and fair, and her jet-black hair was usually pulled back into a tight bun. She had been a favorite amongst the boys - maybe because of her warm personality, maybe because of her looks. As she turned to close the door, Josh scanned down her body. She wore a tight-fitting dress today that covered her from neck to knee. "Is that today's harvest?" he asked, looking at the basket.



"It sure is. Last of the tomatoes this year. It's getting too cold for them." Paige set the basket on the counter. "I'm making a stew tonight. Will you join us?"



"I wish I could," declined Josh politely, knowing full well that they could not afford to feed another mouth, even for one day. "But I have to run."



"That's too bad." Paige looked genuinely disappointed. "Maybe next time." She looked at her son. "Kevin, can you please wash these veggies? I'm going to go change before starting dinner."



As Paige walked past them, Josh's gaze followed her. Even though she was small and thin, her body looked fit and wiry. He watched the way her dress accentuated her frame, especially around her waist and her nice, tight ass. "You know," said Josh after Paige was out of an earshot, "there is someone that might be able to help you."



Kevin perked up. "Really? Who?"



Josh pulled out a pen and a small notepad. "I met him through my uncle. I don't know if he's in business, but it can't hurt to pay him a visit." He scribbled something, tore off a sheet and slid it towards Kevin.



Kevin looked at it suspiciously. "Skipper?"



Josh shrugged. "That's what everyone called him. Go see him and tell him about your situation. He might have something for you."



Kevin looked up at his friend, frowning. "Is it dangerous?"



"No. It's not dangerous." Josh smirked. "But it's not your typical kind of work either. It might be just what you need."



Kevin picked up the piece of paper, folded it and put it in his pocket. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate all of your help."



Josh nodded. "Alright. I really have to run. I'll check in on you soon." Reaching out, he clapped his friend on the shoulder and left.



Kevin sat alone in the kitchen, feeling a warm, hopeful sensation where the folded paper lay in his pocket. The possibility of having found work made him tingle with suspense. He guessed it probably wasn't the honest kind of work or else Josh wouldn't keep it from him until the end. "It has to be better than selling drugs."



"Did you say something?" asked Paige walking into the kitchen.



"Uh! Just thinking out loud, mom."



She looked at him with concern in her eyes. "You've been so grim these past few days. You need to take it easy." Her lips spread into a big smile. "I know what will cheer you up. Pie!"



Kevin shook his head. "No way, mom. We can't afford it."



"Nonsense. I'm going to bake a pie for my son and nothing is going to stop me. Be a dear and run to the store to pick up some pie crust."



"Mom," Kevin began, pleading, "we can't spend that money."



"It's ten dollars, Kevin. It won't make any difference. We don't even have half of the sum, and I don't see how we'll come up with it by the end of the month. We might as well enjoy the moment and have some pie."



Kevin sighed. He felt too exhausted to argue. Reluctantly, he nodded. "I'll be back soon."



As he got off the bus, Kevin pulled out the paper and read over the address that Josh wrote on it. It wasn't far from here. He wondered whether this Skipper would actually be there. He walked down the street, and before he knew it, he was approaching a metal door that was half-hidden in an alley.



Kevin knocked. "I'm here to see Skipper," he announced nervously when the door opened.



A big, hefty man looked him up and down. "He's in his office," he grumbled, jerking a thumb behind him. "Down the hallway and to the right."



Kevin proceeded into the hallway and found the door on the right. He knocked again.



"It's open!" came a shout.



Kevin pushed the door and entered. It was a plain office inside - mostly empty, with a big wooden desk and a few chairs before it. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged man with black hair that was slicked back. He was clean shaven and wore a white dress-shirt that was unbuttoned past his chest. His alert, brown eyes regarded Kevin with interest. "Who are you?" the man asked.



"I'm... from Josh," Kevin stammered. "Are you Skipper? I'm looking for work."



The man studied Kevin for a moment. "Josh? Hmm, I don't remember a Josh. No matter! I can't remember everyone's names. Come on in! Have a seat!" He gestured to a chair that stood directly in front of his desk. "Tell me what brings you here."



Kevin sat down and told him about his situation - that he needed money or else he and his mother would end up on the street. He talked about how his father built their house, and how he spent his childhood playing in the front yard. He talked about his father's death and the debt he left behind. He told him about the debt collectors and all of that. In the end, Kevin wondered if he had said too much.



The man's eyes shone as he listened quietly the whole time. He spoke only when Kevin finished: "I don't know how much your friend has told you about what I do, but I won't beat around the bush. I am a businessman, and I happen to be in the business of making pornographic videos. I make videos that cater to niche interests then I make money by selling them to a particular set of clientele. You said it yourself, the economy is in the dumpster and times are tough. In times like these, porn is great business. So, I may have something for you, but it will depend." He stopped and looked Kevin right in the eye.



Kevin couldn't hide his dismay. "Porn?" he managed to say out loud. He hadn't considered such a turn of events, but he didn't deny that his curiosity was tickled.



"Yes, porn. If you have a problem with that, you know the way out."



"No!" Kevin protested. "I don't have a problem with that." If he had to have sex with a few girls to make some money then it didn't seem like a big problem. He only hoped they would be decent looking.



Skipper leaned forward. "How big is your dick?"



"What?"



"I told you, I'm not going to beat around the bush. Straight to the business. How big is your dick?"



"Oh... I don't know. Maybe seven, seven and a half inches."



Skipper shook his head. "Sorry, I don't have anything for you."



"What?" Kevin was dismayed. Things were happening too fast. "Why?"



"I only work with dicks bigger than nine inches. Anything less than that doesn't sell."



"Nine inches?" asked Kevin with disappointment. He sat staring at the man behind the desk. "Don't you have anything for me? I will do anything. I need the money."



Skipper sighed. "Leave your name and number. If I happen to get a request for skinny guys with small dicks, I'll call you up."



Hurriedly, Kevin wrote his information on a sheet of paper and handed it to Skipper.



"How old are you?" asked Skipper looking over the paper.



"Twenty."



Skipper looked up at him. "And your mother."



Kevin looked puzzled. "Forty one."



"Does she look good for her age?"



Kevin shrugged. "I don't know... I suppose so." Then realization dawned on Kevin. "Oh, no! That's out of the question! She's not like that. She doesn't even know that I'm here."



"What's out of the question?" Skipper asked plainly.



"You want her to be in one of your videos."



Skipper smirked. "Maybe so, but not just her."



Kevin frowned. "I... don't understand."



Skipper nodded. "It's okay. I'll explain." He steepled his hands and began: "I have eighteen-year-old girls and well pampered milfs calling me up for work. I don't have a need for your forty-year-old mom. You dick isn't big enough, so I can't use you either. You said you need money. Well, there happens to be a way for you to make money. Good money. Really good money. Five grand."



Kevin swallowed. "Five thousand? That's a lot of money."



"It is," assured Skipper. "However, in order for me to pay you that much, I will need both, you and your mother." Skipper paused and let the silence hang before adding: "I will need to film you fucking her."



Kevin's eyes became the size of saucers. "What!?"



"You heard that right."



Kevin wore a horrified expression. "You want me to do what?"



"Look, kid. Do you need the money or no? If you do, then put your seven inch prick back where you came from. Do that and you get paid. It's as simple as that."



Kevin stared at him, wordless.



"Look at it this way," continued Skipper. "Hillbillies do it all the time."



"But that's incest!" Kevin exclaimed. "What's wrong with you?"



"Nothing is wrong with me. People have fetishes and they are willing to pay good money to have them satisfied. Rich people tend to pay even better. When I shoot a real incest couple, I make a nice chunk of money. It's nothing personal, kid. It's just business."



"Isn't that illegal?"



"What? Selling porn? Ah, you mean incest. No, not exactly. Otherwise, all the hillbillies would have to be arrested." Skipper chuckled at his own jest. "Well, what do you say?"



Kevin stood up. "No way!"



Skipper sighed. "If I had a dollar every time I heard that. I'll tell you what... I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. You go ahead and take a few days to think about it, then get back to me."



"I don't need to think about it! I'm not going to do anything of the sorts with my mom." Kevin turned and headed for the door. "I'm sorry that I wasted your time."



"Good luck hunting for work out there," said Skipper, reclining back in his chair.



***



"Mmm, it smells delicious," complemented Kevin, walking into the kitchen.



"It will be ready soon," said Paige, looking over her shoulder. "Did you get the pie crust?"



Kevin lifted the grocery bag. "I sure did."



"Put it there." Paige indicated with a spatula.



"Should I set the table?"



"That would be wonderful, dear." Paige threw her son a smile and went back to cooking.



Kevin has been trying to put the encounter with Skipper out of his mind, but it just would not go away. He turned and looked at his mother. He noticed the way her small t-shirt and stretchy pants fit snugly over her slender frame, how her smooth calves flexed as she moved around the kitchen, and how her apron strings were tied just above her butt.



"By the way," Paige suddenly said, causing Kevin to wrench his eyes away from her backside. "Someone called for you."



"Who?"



"He didn't say his name."



"What did he want?"



"He asked if you were home. Then he asked if I was your mom and asked my name. He seemed very nice."



Kevin frowned. "What did you tell him?"



"I told him you'd be home soon." Paige looked back at her son. "Why? Who was he?"



Kevin shrugged. "I don't know. But if anyone calls again, I'm not home."



Paige studied him for a moment before returning to her cooking.



After dinner, Kevin and Paige enjoyed fresh baked pie. It was the most delicious thing Kevin had eaten in awhile. It almost did make his worries go away. Almost. Skipper's words seemed to come unbidden to his mind. "Five grand... I will need to film you fucking her."



"Kevin? Did you hear me, Kevin? Do you want to watch some TV before bed?"



"No thanks, mom. I'm just going to go to my room."



"Get a good night's sleep. You've been so sullen lately."



"Okay, mom. Good night."



Sleep wouldn't come though. "Five grand," he mused. "That could last us a while. It would give me enough time to find a job. Ah! What am I thinking? It's never going to happen. I could never do it with mom. I don't even want to think about what she would say to that. This is so fucked up." Eventually, he drifted into a fitful sleep.



He left the house early the next morning. He wanted to be out before his mother woke up. He spent the whole day visiting the same places: the job placement office, the local market, and the spot where people went to find odd jobs. He had no luck again. He wandered the streets thinking what it was going to be like living without a home. Towards late afternoon, he made his way back to their house. His mom wasn't home, and he found that unusual. He was starved, so he ate some of yesterday's leftovers. As he was washing up his plate, he heard the front door open.



Peeking his head around the corner, he saw his mom enter.



"You were out?" he called.



"Uh-huh."



"Where did you go?"



"Into the city."



"Oh!" Kevin detected a cold note. She didn't meet his eyes or smile at him, like she usually would. He watched her take off her coat and shoes, then walk past him towards the living room.



"Mom, is everything alright?"



She sat on the couch without answering him.



He wiped his hands on a towel and approached. "Where did you go?"



Paige didn't look at him as she said: "That same man called again today. I told him you weren't home. He said it was too bad because he had work for you. He asked me if I could come down and meet him, to ensure you'd get the work. He seemed nice enough, and I didn't want you to lose this chance, so I went." She looked up at Kevin. Her gaze was reluctant.



"Oh, God! What did he tell you?" Kevin panicked. "I only went to see him because Josh said he might be able to help me. I didn't know exactly what he did."



"It's okay, Kevin." Paige seemed to soften. "He told me about your conversation with him and how you reacted." She snorted a laugh. "I had the same reaction when he told me about his proposal. Actually, I got so flushed that I almost fainted. Then he told me the amount of money he'd pay." She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "It's funny now, but I couldn't stop thinking about how much money that is."



Kevin shifted uncomfortably.



"He said," Paige continued, "that he didn't realize how beautiful I was. He said that we could make more money if we agreed to do several videos. I almost forgot what it was he was asking me to do." Her face was expressionless with a vacant gaze.



Kevin looked away. "Well, it's not like we would ever do it. For any amount. Let's just forget about that. I'm sorry you had to find out."



Paige stood up and approached her son. She touched him lightly on the hand. "Don't beat yourself up, Kevin. We're going to find a way to make that payment. There's still time. You've taken so much on yourself after your father passed away. I just want you to know that I'm proud of you, no matter what."



He tried to smile. "Thanks, mom."



She smiled back at him then walked off, leaving him alone.



The next few days were all alike. Kevin visited the usual places, found no work and shuffled back home in a bad mood. It was late afternoon when he sat in the kitchen eating a hunk of bread. His mother was outside, working in her garden. He heard a knock on the door and went to open it.



Three mean looking men were at the door.



"Hello," said the smaller one of them, pushing past Kevin into the house. He glanced around then turned to face Kevin. "Do you have the money?"



Kevin shook his head.



"Who's there?" Paige called, walking in through the back door.



"Old friends!" exclaimed the man.



Paige went pale. "What are you doing here? It's not the end of the month yet."



"We thought we'd pay you an early visit and see if you have the money now."



Paige came up to stand by her son. "We're still working on it."



The man smiled, showing his yellow teeth. "That's a nice mom you have there, boy. If you don't pay up, we'll take the house and then we'll take your mom a few times."



The other two men laughed, their voices booming throughout the house.



Kevin didn't say anything. He wanted to defend his mom, but he wasn't exactly big nor strong, and he couldn't do much against the three of them. He wished they would just go away.



"Time is ticking," said the man as he headed for the door. "End of the month will come sooner than you think." He blew Paige a kiss, before walking out.



Paige ran up and slammed the door shut behind them. "Those pigs!" She turned the lock.



"Don't worry, mom." Kevin found his courage. "I won't let them touch you."



Paige looked at her son, concern written all over her face. She swallowed. "Come, Kevin. I'll make you something to eat."



***



Kevin found himself in Skipper's office once again.



"Did you have a change of mind?" Skipper grinned triumphantly.



Kevin ignored the question. "What if I do it with some other woman? You said you've got milfs. I'll play along and pretend to be her son."



"No deal. It has to be real. I can't sell fake shit. The people that I sell to only want the real deal."



"How would they even know?"



"Oh, they know. Trust me."



"There's gotta be another way."



"I don't run a charity and I'm not your friend. I'm a businessman. If you want to do business, bring your mother and we'll do business. By the way, you never told me she was so sexy."



Kevin tried to ignore him. "Why did you tell her everything?"



"Why not? I wanted to gauge her reaction. She took it better than I expected. The part about the money especially got her attention. I told her that there's more money to earn if she agrees to additional shoots."



Kevin shook his head. "What are you talking about?"



"My customers are going to love you. I just know it. A shy and proper mom that gives up her sexy little body to her son." He paused and looked Kevin up and down critically. "A skinny son, with no muscles, and only seven inches long."



"Seven and a half," defended Kevin absentmindedly.



"It'll do," Skipper waved a hand. "Luckily, your mom is small, so your dick will look big next to her."



"It's not going to happen!" Kevin raised his voice.



"You're here," Skipper pointed out simply. "We're halfway there."



Kevin sighed and leaned back in the chair.



"I'm not sure why you're playing the victim." Skipper folded his hands. "You get to fuck a sexy woman and make money in the process."



Kevin once again ignored his comments. He rubbed his eyes before saying: "Even if, and that's a big 'if', I agreed to it, she never would. You didn't see the look on her face when she came home."

