We’d spent the afternoon at one of those retro arcade things in town. It had appeared after Benji had moved away, so I was excited to show him what changed. It wasn’t exactly my thing (I prefer games with actual graphics) but it was fun nonetheless. After that, we wandered through the city centre, catching up on old times and dipping in and out of record shops. It was fun and familiar and I realised I had missed him more than I previously thought.

Later that evening, we were sprawled out on my couch, just like old times. On the screen, a movie neither of us were really watching. On the table, half-eaten takeout containers. My feet were tucked under me, his arm draped lazily over the back of the couch. It was comfortable. Easy. The kind of closeness that only comes from knowing someone for years.

Then, somewhere in the background, a male voice said “Yes, mommy…”

I snorted and made a face, tossing a pillow at him. “Ugh, I never got the mommy thing.”

He caught it easily, smirking as he propped it behind his head. “I dunno. It’s not that weird.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not?”

He hesitated for just a second. “Okay, well. It’s kinda weird,” he admitted, laughing and running a hand through his hair. “But no weirder than feet or bondage or whatever. Everyone has a kink, right?”

“Sounds like you’re kind of into it,” I teased, stretching my legs out and nudging him with my foot.

He laughed again, grabbing my foot and pulling on my sock a little. “That’s none of your business!”

I laughed too, but I noted that he didn’t deny it. I guess I’d never thought about what turned my best friend on, but now I sat forward, a little intrigued. He watched me watching him and looked away.

“I just think it’s hot when a woman takes charge. Feels good to be taken care of, you know?”

“Interesting…” I tilted my head, considering. “Do you wanna call me mommy?”

“What? No way!” he scoffed, shaking his head, the tips of his ears turning red. “I mean, unless… you wanted me to.”

I shrugged. “Whatever, dude. It's your kink.”

Benji laughed, shaking his head as if to clear the moment from his mind, and turned his attention back to the screen. I followed his lead, shifting into a more comfortable position, but now the weight of his hands on my legs felt different.

On the screen, a battered-looking detective was pacing through a neon-lit alleyway, collar turned up against the rain, muttering something about how "the city's rot starts from the inside out."

But If I wasn’t watching it before, now I really I wasn't watching it. Instead I was thinking.

After another few minutes of charged silence, I decided to go for it. I didn’t turn to face him, just kept my eyes on the screen as I spoke. “I want you to try it.”

He blinked. “Try what?”

“Calling me mommy.”

He nearly choked on his drink. “What?”

I shrugged, still playing it cool, but my pulse quickened at his reaction.

“What’s the worst that could happen…sweetie?”

For the first time, he just stared at me, like he wasn’t sure if I was joking. And then, after a long pause, he let out a slow breath.

“…Okay.” And then, in a voice quieter than I expected, he murmured, “Mommy.”

The second I heard it, I felt it.

My lips parted just slightly and I felt a slow flush crept up my neck. Beneath my shirt, I felt my nipples hardening, and suddenly the way my pajama top rubbed against them was a little too pleasurable. I shifted in my seat, my legs still draped across him as I pressed my thighs together, clamping down on my clit.

I pushed my breasts together a little, making them bulge against the soft fabric of my top. “Say it again.”

“Okay, mommy. Do you like it?”

I could stop this now. Laugh it off. Say it was all a joke. But I didn’t. Instead, I nodded, opening my legs a little. “Yes, sweetie. Mommy is very proud of you.”

Benji nodded, watching me, and I realised, without trying, we had slipped effortlessly into the roles. And I was enjoying myself too. I looked him in the eyes, seeing within them something needy and desperate, and realised Benji might have been waiting for this his whole life. Now it was time to be the best friend I could possibly be.

“So,” I said, giving him my best mommy voice, running my fingers along the waistband on my pajama bottoms. “Do you want to see what mommy’s panties look like?”

[Part two if people want to hear what happened…]