This story took place some thirty years ago. It is a real story, and it is a long story.
All of the people featured in it have since passed away, except for myself.
Jen, my ex-girlfriend, died suddenly in her sleep a few years after the events in this story took place. She only was 36 at the time, and although we had been separated for quite a while I mourned her death for years.
My mother died three years ago at the age of 82, and John, her second husband, passed away a year later.
As for myself, I’m doing good. I think I have a rich life, filled with deep meaningful experiences, both sexual and non-sexual.
If you have any thoughts, comments or suggestions about the story you are about to read, please share them with me.
Have a good day.
*****
“Alright, I”ll see you soon, then.”
“Fine,” my mother replied. “In the meantime, take good care of yourself.”
As I laid down my phone I slumped back in my chair. I had been postponing this conversation with my mother for a while, even dreading it. Telling your mom you are breaking up with your girlfriend is never that easy, especially since my mother really liked my girlfriend, Jen. Loved her, actually.
As I had, obviously. Jen and I had been living together for the last ten years, and mostly it had been a lot of fun. For the past two years or so the fun had dwindled however, and irritations and quarrels had occurred more and more frequently. After a good talk (and some interesting therapy sessions) we had decided it would be better if we’d split. There still was a lot of love between us, and on occasion we still had amazing sex together, but there wasn’t a point in continuing the relationship and only damaging what was left of it in the process.
My mother had been nothing but sympathetic however, and that had been a real relief. Since my father suddenly died, around the same time I started living with Jen, my mother and I had been growing closer, so I really shouldn’t have worried, but I did anyway. I was clearly feeling guilty about the break-up.
On top of all her sympathy, my mother also provided me with a solution for the biggest problem I was facing at that moment.
After we decided a break-up was best for us, Jen told me she didn’t want to keep living in our apartment. However, looking for a new place for herself would take some time, and in the meantime she asked me to give her some space. So I had been crashing at various friends’ houses for a few days each, sleeping on the couch or in a spare bedroom, had there been one, hopping from friend to friend.
In our telephone conversation my mother told me that she would be delighted if I wanted to use her guest-room for as long as I needed for Jen and me to sort things out. Doing so would also put a 200 miles distance between me and my ex-girlfriend, and that would mean we wouldn’t bump into each other unexpectedly. I’d like that. My workplace (I was working as a lawyer for a big government organization at that time) was smack dab in the middle of where I had been living and where my mom lived, so the commute there would be roughly the same. After giving it some thought – must have taken me no more than half a second, to tell you the truth – I gladly accepted my mom’s offer.
So there I was, 32 years old, packing my things to go live with my mother, once again.
After my father unexpectedly passed away my mother had moved to another, smaller, house than where they had been living together and I had grown up in. The old house was nothing but big – we’d sometimes refer to it as The Mansion. Living there alone had made her feel uncomfortable, so she sold it and went for something that suited her more. With the money she made with the sale of the old house and a generous amount of life insurance paid after the passing of my father she was doing fine for herself. My mother now lived in a lovely two-bedroom cottage-style house, with a big garden providing lots of flowers and privacy.
A while after the death of my father my mother had dated a few times. She always had taken good care of herself, so – even at her present age of 55 – she looked really nice, and she always drew plenty of attention from men. I even met one or two of her lovers when I visited her. But none of them stayed around for more than a few months – I’m sure my mother grew tired of them quickly and sent them on their way. Now she seemed to be happy living single. She had gotten a job as a hostess at a convent for nuns that was rapidly turning into a nursing home, given the average age of the nuns living there. She didn’t need the money, but my mother was brought up in a religious home, and the habits and customs of the nuns – and the company of only women – suited her really well.
—-
Living together with my mom proved to be a real joy for the both of us. We both had our own lives, but we would also enjoy each other’s company, listening to music, reading a book or just chatting away. We both liked to cook, so we took turns and our meals together were always nice, both of us enjoying a glass of wine to accompany them.
When my mother bought her new house she had some landscaper design and build a beautiful garden for her, providing a lot of colorful flowers and a lot of privacy, and she always liked to work in it, as she had done at the old place. However, after living there for almost ten years, some major maintenance and upgrading of the garden was due, cutting a dead tree here, building a new tool shed there and more things like that. Since I was staying at her house for free I was glad I could do something in return for her, enjoying the physical work myself, so I offered to help her with it. She seemed to be very happy with my offer. “That would be really nice.” she said. “Let’s see what we can do this weekend!”
Working together also always had been easy between the two of us. When I grew up we had spend long days together in the garden of our old house, so there was an almost instant resuming of our earlier roles. My mother was more the planner, pointing out what she wanted to be done and doing the lighter work and I provided the required muscle for the more heavy work.
However, spending the last years mostly seated in an office, I lost some of my strength and stamina, so towards the end of that first Saturday all my muscles were complaining loudly, and so was my lower back. After moving a large boulder to its new place I stretched my back, supporting it with my hands and groaning a bit.
My mother looked at me, smiled, and said, “Let’s call it a day. We did a lot today, I’m really pleased.” And then she added, “If you want, I”ll give you a massage to ease the pain a bit, like when you were little.” She had done so sometimes when I had helped her in the garden as a kid.
“Would you?” I asked. “I wouldn’t say no to a massage, to be honest. Just let me take a quick shower and rinse off a bit.”
“You just do that!” my mother replied. “Just holler when you are ready and I”ll come and find you. I have to go look for some massage-oil first.”
I went upstairs, undressed in my bedroom, walked into the bathroom I shared with my mother and stepped into the shower. The warm water on my body already relaxed the tension in my body a bit, and after a quick rinse I dried myself. On the landing between the bathroom and my bedroom I called out to my mother, “I am ready!”
“Yup!” she called back. “Just lay down, I”ll be right up”
My mother and I were not really used to being naked around each other. On the other hand, on the rare occasion one of us ran into the other undressed – usually going for or returning from the bathroom – nothing more than a little awkwardness and a mutually mumbled “Sorry!” occurred, so it also was not a big deal. Jen and I used to visit a sauna every month or so, so I was used to being naked around others. And my mother would only see my bare back and bottom, just like when I was younger, so I just laid on my stomach on the bed, waiting for her and relaxing.
“Ah, there you are.” my mother said when she entered the room. She sat herself on the bed, and I heard her unscrew a bottle. I twitched a bit when she poured cold oil on my lower back, but when she placed her warm hands there I relaxed again. Silently she rubbed my back and shoulders, and sometimes I grunted a bit when she came upon a specially painful knot.
After quite some silent time she started chatting again, asking me about a cousin I had been visiting the weekend before. I knew this meant she was done massaging me, so I turned to face her. Because I had been enjoying the massage, and maybe because it had been quite some time since I had been touched by a woman’s hand, I had grown a semi-erection. I was far from rock hard, and hardly aroused, but my dick kind of swung in sight when I turned my body around. I reached beside me, grabbed a pillow, and put it in my lap, hiding my dick from sight. Hardly a pause had occurred in our talk, and we continued chatting as if nothing had happened, me leaning against the headboard of the bed, and my mother seated at the foot-end of it.
After ten minutes or so my mother said, “Well, let me take a shower too. Maybe you could already start a meal for us.”
‘Deal!” I said, “and thank you for the massage.”
She smiled at me, said, “You”re very welcome!” and disappeared into the bathroom.
The next day we again worked in the garden together, and again my mother offered to rub my back afterwards. And just like the previous day we chatted a bit seated on my bed, me propped up against the headboard, a pillow in my lap, she on the foot-end of the bed, before she went to take a shower and we enjoyed a quiet evening together.
—-
“What are your plans for the weekend?” my mother asked me during dinner – I think this was the following Thursday evening.
“I don’t have any.” I replied. “I think we need another two or three weekends working in your garden, so I did not make other arrangements.”
“Oh, that”s nice of you!” she beamed at me.
“I was thinking,” she continued, “at an hours’ drive from here there is a tree nursery, and there are various other plant nurseries there as well. I know it’s not the right time to buy and plant a tree, but I would want to go and look at them now that they are at their best, so I can decide which one I am going to buy. And I hear they have a very decent restaurant there as well, so I figured we could go there tomorrow, look at the trees and what other plants they have, have us a lunch or an early dinner at the restaurant, and maybe go for a walk. You know, really having a day off. What do you think?”
That sounded very much alright to me, so I told her so.
“Great!” she exclaimed, and actually came over to me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’m excited!”
The next Saturday we had ourselves a slow morning, sleeping in a bit and having a mostly silent breakfast. We didn’t have breakfast together often. Usually I was well on my way to work before my mother came downstairs.
Around eleven she acclaimed, “Come on, let’s go! I’m ready!”
“Let me drive.” I said. “I have a bigger car. You give me directions.”
The tree nursery happened to be part of a big estate, and there were various gardens and ponds and a lot of statues to be seen. Also the big mansion (this really being a mansion!) was open for visitors, so we had a look inside.
In the middle of the estate stood a large greenhouse, actually an old orangery, and that was where the restaurant was. The large windows at the top of the greenhouse were all opened wide, so it had the feeling of being outside on a patio, but actually almost no bugs or bees or such were inside, apart from some very beautiful butterflies that were being bred inside the orangery.
We had a lovely meal there, my mother and I, accompanied by a really good glass of wine. Maybe it was the combination of the beauty of the place, the meal we shared and the wine doing its thing, but when we were having coffee afterwards I noticed my mother getting silent a bit, throwing glances at me. I just looked back at her, waiting for her to come up with what was bothering her.
Finally she looked straight at me and said, “Can I ask you something? It’s a bit private.”
“Yes, of course you can.” I said. “You can ask me anything you want.”
“Well,” she said, as if gathering her courage. “I noticed that when you turn around after I massaged you, your penis and your balls seem very smooth. I only got a glimpse of them of course, but I never saw a penis so smooth on a grown man. Do you shave down there?”
I must have looked really surprised, because she softly added “Sorry!” but she kept looking at me questioningly.
“Actually,” I said “I do. Jen and I used to go to the sauna together, so I want to keep things a bit representable down there. There are only some random tufts of unruly hair on my balls and penis, so I shave them off completely. On my tummy however I only trim the hair a bit. There are men who shave off all of the hair around the base of their penis also, but that is not my style.”
“Yes.” my mother responded, nodding her head a little. “I hear that women these days shave their private parts completely smooth too.”
I chuckled.
“What??” my mother asked.
“You can say balls and penis, but of your own sex you say “private parts”. That made me laugh.” I said.
“Oh!” my mother said, blushing just a tiny bit. “Vagina,” she said, making it sound as if she was exploring the right word to use. And after a second she added, with a little more conviction, “Pussy.”
“Yes,” I answered her question, “women do shave their pussy completely bald these days, but I don’t care for that much, to be honest. I like a full bush on a woman”s pussy, maybe trimmed just the slightest bit.”
“Is there a girl in your life?” my mother asked me.
“No,” I said, “it’s too early for me still. But how about you? Why hasn’t there been a man in your life after dad died?”
She contemplated my question for a bit. Then she answered, “Well, that is mainly because men of my generation mostly are useless pricks.”
And then, much to my surprise, she added, “I once had a conversation with Jen about sex, and the kind of lover you are. For instance, she told me that you do like to give her oral pleasure.”
Intrigued as I was at the direction our conversation was going, again I chuckled (this time only on the inside) at the words “oral pleasure” my mother just used. The only time I had heard the gentle art of eating pussy referred to that way was in the movie Pulp Fiction, and I really didn’t think my mother had seen it.
At the same time I was listening closely to what my mother was saying.
“Wait!” I asked her, “are you telling me you never have had eh… oral pleasure given to you?”
“No!” my mother said with enough strength in her voice to make some other visitors in the restaurant turn their head around. In a lower voice she continued, “I would give oral pleasure, but I never received any from those pricks!”
This time I laughed out loud.
“What????” my mother spat at me, more annoyed with the memory of said pricks than with me, I think.
“Sorry!” I said. “It’s just that especially in that technique no pricks are involved, right?” That made my mother laugh aloud also.
“Stop making fun of your old mother!” she said.
“You”re not old,” I said, “and you look good too. I really think you should date again and look for a gentleman that is into pleasuring you, in any way you like.”
“You”re sweet!” she said. “Come on, let’s take a walk outside.”
My mother ended up buying a tree that day after all, a beautiful Japanese flowering crabapple, arranging for it to be delivered and planted in her garden in the fall. We also bought some perennials to replace dead plants in her garden, and some hanging baskets for the house itself. With the backbench of my car fully occupied by trays and pots filled with plants we drove home.
“I really had a lovely time!” my mother said when we were almost home. “Thank you very much.”
“You”re welcome!” I said.
It had been a clear and sunny day while we were out, but when we got home the weather had turned to very hot and sticky. When I had taken all the plants out of the car and put them in the garden I was sweating all over.
“I’m going to take a quick shower.” I said to my mom when I entered the kitchen where she was making us some cold lemonade.
“You do that.” my mother said, adding, “Give me a sign when you are ready, I”ll come up and give you a massage.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I hardly did do anything today.”
“I noticed how you stretched your back when we got home.” my mother said.
I had been feeling my back after the drive home, and she noticed obviously.
“Alright.” I said. “If you wouldn’t mind I’d really enjoy a back rub to be honest.”
“Just let me know when you are done in the bathroom.” my mother replied.
I went upstairs, undressed and stepped into the shower. First I let cold water cool down my body for a while, and after that I turned the temperature up to enjoy the relaxing effect of the hot water on my body.
After I was done and dried myself I went to the landing and I called out to my mother. To my surprise she came out of her bedroom, and now stood no more than two meters from my naked body. I mumbled something like “Oh, there you are!” and quickly walked into my bedroom. I got face-down on my bed. This time I heard my mother chuckle, but she didn’t say anything.
She took her time massaging my back and shoulders, and I was really enjoying it, with the usual result of my dick waking up just a little bit.
Then, after what seemed like a really long time, she suddenly spoke and said, “I sometimes miss Jen. Would you mind if I gave her a call?”
I knew her question was also a sign she was done massaging me, so I turned and rested my body against the headboard of the bed.
When I reached beside me to grab a pillow to put in my lap, my mother touched my arm and spoke again. ‘Don’t.” she said. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself.”
My mother stopping me covering my dick surprised me. “I’m not ashamed.” I said, “I just didn’t want to offend you.”
“Now how could I ever be offended by how the good Lord has made you?” my mother asked, sounding really surprised herself.
“Oh.” I said. “Well, alright, if you are sure.”
“I am.” my mother said. So I just sat against the headboard, naked, one leg straight, the other leg bent at the knee, my dick and balls on full display.
My mother massaging me, feeling her hands on my body, had been really nice, I must admit, but it hadn’t aroused me. Sitting there, completely naked, in full frontal view to my mother did. I felt my dick stir, going from half erect to just not quite fully hard.
My mother once again asked me, “How would you feel if I called Jen?”
“You really should.” I answered her question. “The two of you always were close, and I would love it if you could stay that way.”
My mother opened her mouth to say something else, but then closed it again. She was looking at my balls and dick intently. When she spoke again there was a child-like wonder in her voice.
“You know,” she said, “I never had the opportunity to look at a man”s tools like this before. Did you know your balls are in constant motion?”
“Yes, I know.” I replied. “My dick is, too, shifting all the time. I think it is kind of neat, but there is also something alien about it, don’t you think?”
My mother didn’t answer but just kept looking at my balls and dick doing their thing. Again she opened her mouth and closed it without saying anything. Then she looked at my face and said, “I am really curious how your dick and balls feel. Your skin looks so smooth there. Would you mind if I touched you?”
That was a question I needed some time to answer. It seemed like a perfect logical and normal next step, given the intimacy we created between the two of us. The idea of my mother touching my dick certainly did arouse me, and I could feel my dick responding.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t masturbated for some time, and suddenly I was in the mood, and a little stimulation from my mother – especially from my mother, which would be only fitting the closeness between us but at the same time be very taboo – would be very welcome.
Then it occurred to me that these all were thoughts. What, I asked myself, am I feeling right now? Excitement, sure. But more to the point, I was feeling totally and completely at ease with the situation that was unfolding right in front of me. I was open to any experience this was going to provide me.
My mother seemed to understand that I needed some time to overthink her question, so she just sat there, looking at my face, giving me some space.
Finally I nodded. “Yes.” I said. “Go ahead.”
My mother stayed motionless for a few seconds, and then she looked down at my crotch again. She stretched her arm towards my balls, extended one finger and ever so lightly caressed my balls with it. I think we both gasped at the same time, very softly.
Still ever so gently she traced the contours of my balls and dick with first one, and then two fingers. “It feels wonderful!” she said – and I didn’t know for sure if she was talking to me or to herself.
Still very gently she started to probe my balls and dick all the way, front to back, bottom to top. She was making my dick rock hard in the process, and she pulled at it, hooking her two fingers behind it. “My God!” she whispered, “I never…” and then her voice trailed off again.
My mother now cupped my balls in her hand, and it seemed like she was weighing them. She closed her hand, gripping them more firmly, then opened her hand again.
Next thing I knew she wrapped her hand firmly around my dick and, very, very slowly, moved it up and down, giving me what seemed to be a handjob in slow motion.
My breath was laboring from the sheer joy of what I was experiencing. I let out the slightest moan, and I thought, “If she continues this, very soon I won’t have to masturbate at all, she is going to make me come!”
At the sound of my moan my mother stopped the movement of her hand and looked at me. Then she moved her hand up and down again, studying my face. She was clearly seeing something there that she liked, for her face broke out in the most devious grin I had ever seen on her.
Then she grew serious, and with what seemed to be lots of concentration she continued stroking my dick. Drops of pre-cum started to coat my dick and her hand, and she looked at her hand, lifted it to her mouth, and licked some of the fluid off it.
“Mmmm!” she said, making a noise deep down her throat. Then she gripped my dick again and continued her slow-motion jerk off.
“You know?” she continued in a perfectly normal, unaffected voice, “it seems silly to call it a penis when it’s in this state, don’t you think? What do you call it?”
Again her question surprised me, and at the same time it was perfectly normal. “Well,” I said, “that”s a good question. Actually, when I refer to it myself I call it a dick, but I really like it if the woman I’m with calls it a cock.”
“Alright then,” my mother said, and after a moment, “I think you have a beautiful and lovely cock.” Her saying these words out loud brought me very close to an orgasm.
“I like pussy.” my mother continued, and again I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to herself. “I will say cunt, but only if the occasion asks for dirty talk.”
My mother using these words added to my excitement even more. For a moment I wondered if my mother thought this was an occasion that asked for dirty talk.
Then suddenly her hand stopped moving. She just very calmly looked at my face for a few seconds, let go of my dick and got off of the bed. She stood there for just a moment more, said, “Yes, you really have a beautiful cock!” and turned around.
“I’m going to take a shower.” she said. “I”ll see you downstairs in a while.”
“Alright.” I said. “Take your time!”
“Oh, I will!” my mother replied, and closed the door to my bedroom.
My mother never closed a door in her house, except the bathroom door. Ever. All other doors, even that to her own bedroom, or mine, were always wide open.
Her closing my door was a clear sign that she knew what I was going to do next. Knowing she knew, and her letting me know she knew, excited me enormously.
And that excitement came on top of what she already did to me by jerking off my dick the way she did, and saying words like cock and cunt aloud. I needed to come, badly.
My hand went to my dick and gripped the shaft tightly. I had hardly begun moving my hand up and down before I exploded, spraying rope after rope of cum on my torso and hands. I groaned in pleasure, my head spinning from the orgasm.
Afterwards I laid on my bed, regaining my breath and replaying what had happened. I felt great. Then I felt a rumble in my stomach, and I decided to go downstairs to make us a small dinner and pour myself a glass of wine. I cleaned myself with the towel I brought from the bathroom after I had showered earlier, and got dressed.
Jen and I didn’t have much secrets for each other, and we were fairly inhibited when it came to sex. Jen liked to masturbate in the shower, using the jets of water on her clit. I heard her come like that on numerous occasions, when I was in our bedroom, or when I was in the bathroom together with her. Sometimes I even helped her come. I knew the sounds Jen made when she orgasmed that way very well.
When I left my bedroom and passed the bathroom on my way down I heard my mother making those exact same noises. I smiled, and continued downstairs.
—-
The next morning the weather was still warm and muggy, and thunderstorms were expected in the afternoon. I wanted to use this morning to dig up the stump of the tree that had died. I already removed the branches and most of the trunk, leaving just enough of it to use as a handle on the stump.
It would be very hard and sweaty work, but the rain that was expected later would make the soil very sticky, making it only harder to dig out the stump.
After breakfast I got some tools from the toolshed, and started digging. My mother had decided to go to church this morning, so she would not be home for a few hours.
It was hard work, and my progress was slower than I had hoped. It was not long before I was sweating profusely, and I decided to ditch my t-shirt.
The roots of the stump had grown deep into the soil, and I had to cut them off one by one, using a small axe. I was bending over a lot, working below my head. It was hard labor, but I wouldn’t give up, and eventually I made slow but steady progress.
When my mother came home and brought me some lemonade to drink she laughed out loud.
“You look like a scarecrow!” she exclaimed – my face and body were covered in sweat and dirt. Then she looked at the sky and frowned. “Those thunderstorms are approaching a lot faster than they predicted.”
I heard the worry in her voice – my mother had always been afraid of lightning.
‘Don’t worry.” I said. “I’m right here.”
She lightly touched my cheek. “I am so glad you are!”
I worked as fast as I could, and at last I had removed enough soil and roots to try and pull the stump out of the earth using a pickaxe. While my mother watched me from a small distance I pushed and pulled, shoved and heaved with all I had in me.
Then, suddenly, thunder split the sky. My mother screamed in surprise and horror, causing me to jump into the air a little myself.
“Hail Mary, mother of Christ!” my mom said out loud – her go-to prayer in times of distress. Thick raindrops began to fall from the sky.
“Go inside!” I told my mother. “I think I am almost done. I”ll join you as soon as I can.”
“Alright, but be careful!” my mother said, her voice trembling just a little bit.
Being hit with one large raindrop after another I returned to the stump. I managed to put the pickaxe in a good spot and the stump slowly began to give up its resistance. I couldn’t muster enough weight and strength to give it the last push though, it seemed.
Suddenly my mother was on my side. She had changed out of her church dress and into jeans and t-shirt, and she said, “Let’s try together.”
“You”re going to get wet and dirty!” I warned her.
“Come on!” was all she said.
We both worked the handle of the pickaxe, she pulled where I pushed and vice versa. In no time my mother also was covered in mud, like I predicted. As we gave the pickaxe a last real good push the stump came loose, causing us to almost tumble over.
At the same time, thunder roared again, and rain started pouring down as if someone had turned a faucet. We were soaked immediately, but the cool water actually felt nice on my dirty and sweaty face and body.
My mother screamed “Let’s get inside!” and started running for the kitchen door. A moment later we were both inside, dripping water on the floor and looking muddy and gross – but also both laughing at the sight of the other.
My mother began to take off her t-shirt and jeans, and motioned me to lose my shorts also. “Come on!” she said, standing there in nothing more than plain cotton panties and bra, “these are going straight into the washing machine.”
“You go and take a shower, and I”ll go right after, and then I”ll massage you.” she continued.
I had to admit, wrestling the stump in the garden had put a lot of strain on my back, so I just nodded in agreement, took off my shorts, handed it to my mother, and trudged upstairs.
After I rinsed off and let the warm water relax my body I dried myself and laid face-down on my bed. I heard my mother come up the stairs and go into the bathroom to shower.
Then she briefly went to her bedroom, and after a minute or two she came to my bedroom and sat on the bed.
“How”s your back?” she asked.
“It’s not too bad,” I said, “just a little sore.”
“I think I have just the cure!” my mother said. She poured some oil on my back and slowly but firmly began kneading my back and shoulders. I was groaning a lot more this time, but enjoying it as usual.
After a while my mother said “Turn around.”
This was new, she never massaged the front of my body before. As I turned around, I saw my mother was wearing a silk robe that ended just above her knees, held together by a belt in the same fabric, just tied in a simple knot. It was obvious she was not wearing anything beneath it.
My mother continued to massage me, going for my arms and chest this time. It felt entirely different than her massaging my back, and I just laid there, my eyes closed, enjoying the experience. My dick was in its usual half-erect state, resting on my belly.
Suddenly my mother stopped massaging me. One of her hands rested on my belly, and with a finger of the other hand she very lightly touched my nipples, one after the other, tracing the forms of my areolas, making my nipples, small as they are, go fully hard. Carefully but deliberately she pinched one of them.
It was a feeling I never experienced before.
The hand on my belly slowly made its way to my crotch, first cupping my balls and then gripping the shaft of my dick, just like she did yesterday.
My dick got rock hard almost instantaneously. Her hand, still slippery from the oil she had been using to massage me, slid across the length of my dick and caressed my dickhead, and I moaned softly.
Then she again gripped my dick firmly at its base, and stopped moving either hand. I opened my eyes to look at her. She looked back at me straight, and for a couple of seconds I held her gaze. Not a word was said, but in that moment decisions were made, consent was given, sexual pleasure was anticipated.
My mother’s eyes left my face, and it seemed she was scanning every inch of my body. She started moving the hand gripping my dick again, jerking me off in the same slow-motion movements she used the day before.
Again pre-cum was leaking out of my dick, and with the tip of one finger she spread it all over my dickhead. She licked some of the fluid off her fingertip and made that sound in the back of her throat again.
“You taste nice.” she said.
Before I knew what she was going to do she bowed her head towards my dick and closed her mouth over the head. We both groaned with pleasure at the same time.
Just as slowly as she had been masturbating me she moved her mouth over my dick, sucking, licking it, blowing some air over the head and then again taking me in her warm mouth. Her hand was at the base of my dick, gripping it tightly and holding it upright. She was giving me a blowjob like I never received in my life.
All the while it was clear to me that she was going for maximum pleasure, she was not trying to make me come. That suited me fine. The first orgasm we would experience together should be my mother coming while I was eating her pussy. I was going to give her the first oral pleasure she ever received.
Gently I placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her head. She looked at me, and I continued to gently push at her until she was lying on her back. She sighed audibly, and closed her eyes.
I untied the belt around her waist and just like I anticipated the robe completely fell away from her body. All at once my mother was naked, exposing the beautiful mature body of the 55-year old woman she was.
Of course her breasts sagged, of course her belly was round and soft, but as she laid there, the dark triangle of pubic hair included, she looked like a goddess to me.
It was also very clear where my preference for a full bush originated from.
Again my mother sighed audibly, sounding content of finally being naked with me. I gently touched her breasts, tracing her areolas and lightly pinching her nipples, just as she had done to me.
She seemed to purr at every move I made, rubbing her legs together, both triggered by her excitement as to augment it.
I cupped her breasts in my hand between caressing them with my fingertips. My mouth closed on an erect nipple and I nibbled on it ever so gently, causing my mother to wriggle her whole body in pleasure and anticipation.
My hand traced the roundness of her belly, and a finger probed the depth of her navel, which made her giggle. I ran my fingers through her pubic hair, this time tracing the mound that laid underneath.
I moved my hand even lower, but she was still rubbing her legs together in delight, denying me access to her pussy.
Gently, with the palm of my hand, I pressed against the inside of first one leg, then the other, causing my mother to spread her legs just a little.
I let my hand slide between her thighs and again I gently pushed outward, first one leg and then the other, creating more space for my hand for what I was about to do next.
I noticed my mother holding her breath as I cupped her pussy in my hand. With the tip of one finger I traced the outside of her pussy lips, gently caressing the piece of tissue between her pussy and her leg on each side, pushing against her labia.
I took one of her pussy lips between the tip of my finger and my thumb, pulling at it and tracing the slick inside with my finger. Then I did the same with the other one, again pulling at it and this time tracing the inside with my thumb. I already could feel her wetness covering my fingers and lubricating them.
My mother responded to every move I made by holding her breath for a second and then letting it go, making hissing sounds in the process.
Again I cupped her pussy in my hand, and this time I cocked my middle finger, causing it to slide between the lips of my mother’s pussy, and right into the wet and slippery depths of her. I could feel my mother’s pussy almost grab my finger, sucking it inside her.
She made a deep moaning sound in her throat, and pushed her pussy against my hand, causing my middle finger to slide even deeper into her.
Slowly I let the tip of my finger probe the inside my mother’s pussy, letting it slide out and in, fucking her with it, and making circles deep inside her.
My mother continued to moan and push back at every move I made, getting louder at every moan, and pushing back harder at every thrust of my finger.
I sat upright on my knees, grabbed a pillow and spoke out loud.
“Lift your butt.” I said, and as my mother did as I asked I placed the pillow under her behind. She rested herself on it, and with a gentle push with the palm of my hand I let her spread her legs even more.
I crawled between my mother’s legs, still sitting on my knees, resting my own butt on my heels.
I took a moment to bath myself in the excitement that the naked body of my mother was providing me, especially in this position. My dick was harder than it had ever been before.
I used one of my hands to caress my mother’s breasts and belly again, finally letting it rest cupping her pubic mound. I turned the other hand palm up, and I let my middle finger slide inside my mother’s pussy again, cocking it slightly in search of her g-spot. I found the unmistakably different bit of tissue, and pushed against it, making small circles with the tip of my finger.
My mother let out a loud “Oh my God!” followed by “I never….” before letting her voice trail off.
I let my index finger follow my middle finger, using both fingers to stimulate the g-spot inside my mother’s pussy. Then I bowed my head towards her pussy and, gently pulling at her pubic mound with my other hand to expose it, I sucked her clit between my lips.
Again my mother said “Oh my God!”, although a great deal louder than before, and this time it was followed by “I was really hoping you’d…” before again trailing off.
At the same time my mother bended her knees, her feet left the mattress, and she spread her legs as wide as she could, giving me all the more access to her pussy.
Gently, and at times not that gently at all, sometimes slowly, sometimes very quickly I licked, sucked, probed and nibbled at my mom”s pussy and clit, tracing her labia with my tongue, even licking her asshole. At the same time I continued finger fucking her, slowly applying more and more pressure to her g-spot.
My mother began pushing her pelvis and clit against my tongue and mouth, moaning loudly in the same rhythm as she moved her body.
I let my fingers inside her pussy follow her rhythm, synchronizing the speed of my tongue as well. I could feel my mother’s orgasm build with every thrust and push.
Still fucking my mother’s pussy with two of my fingers I let the ring finger of that same hand graze my mother’s asshole. It was well lubricated by my saliva from when I had licked it, and by the juices flowing out of my mother’s pussy, so the first digit of my finger slipped inside her ass with no resistance at all, and the second digit followed just as easily.
I heard my mother make a moaning sound that seemed to come from a place even deeper than her throat. Then I felt her tense up, and her whole body started to shake in the throes of the most powerful orgasm I had ever witnessed.
She kept repeating “Oh God, oh God!” for what seemed minutes, and kept moving her hips in the same rhythm for just as long.
At first I let my fingers stay inside my mother’s pussy and asshole, keeping them still and letting them ride the movements of my mother’s body.
Eventually I let them slide out of her, letting my hand rest against her pussy and ass, preserving the contact but not stimulating her anymore. My tongue was only doing gentle laps around the clit of my mother’s pussy, and between her labia, licking up her fluids, slowing down as I felt her orgasm subside.
Suddenly the movements my mother’s body were making changed somehow, and it took a moment for me to realize what was happening. Then I clearly heard her sob.
Jen had cried the first time we had sex, and before that I had encountered something like it a few times when I had been with a woman that didn’t have sex for some time, so I wasn’t to alarmed by it.
Having sex with someone after a long period of abstinence could be a very emotional experience – and we were not having sex with just anybody. I was having sex with my mother, and she was having sex with her son.
I sat upright on my knees, placed my hands on the mattress on either side of my mother’s torso, almost at her armpits, and let my own body hover above my mother. I lowered my hips and moved forward a bit, and the tip of my dick found my mother’s pussy hole at once.
My dick slid into my mother’s pussy in one slow but deliberate motion, only stopping when my pelvis bumped into my mother’s.
My mother’s eyes flew wide open, she uttered a “Hail Mary, mother of Christ!” and then threw her arms around my neck, pulling me on top of her. Her sobbing eased, and she sighed deeply once more.
For a moment I laid still, letting my mother adjust to my dick buried deep inside her. Her pussy around my dick felt great, and I took that same moment to just savor the feeling.
My mother held me tight and whispered in my ear, “Oh, your cock feels so good in my pussy! And the way you made me come – I never knew it could feel that good!”
“It was all a bit overwhelming.” she continued. “You are lovely!”
I softly kissed my mother at the side of her neck, just below her earlobe, and very slowly started to move my dick inside her pussy. I’d pull out so that only the tip of my dick was between her pussy lips, and then slide back in, very slowly, with long and deliberate movements.
My mother still held me tight and whispered, “Oh this feels so good, the way you are fucking me! I can feel every inch of you moving inside me.”
I could feel her body against mine, her breasts against my chest, her nipples poking my skin, her belly against my belly, her thighs pressing the side of my legs.
Again I placed my hands on the mattress and pushed myself up until my arms were straight, hovering above my mother. I shifted my legs just a little bit, adjusting my body.
My mother looked straight up to me. “You want to come, don’t you?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Well then.” she said, placing her hands on the back of my head, gently pulling at it, and raising her own head until our mouths touched. For the first time we kissed, first slowly and softly, then with more passion.
My mother let go of my head, laid down, looked up at me again and said, “Go on, then. Fuck me. Fuck your mother. Come inside your mother’s pussy.”
She didn’t need to say anything anymore. First slowly, then more and more quickly I began to move inside her, until I was really slamming into her.
Our pelvises connected at the end of every stroke, and my mother began moaning each time we’d bump into each other. I fucked her even harder now I was on the verge of my own orgasm, and suddenly my mother’s body tensed up again.
She let out a loud moan and spoke aloud, “Oh! I’m coming again! That has never happened for me!”.
That was enough to push me over the edge, and I exploded inside my mother, shooting rope after rope of my cum deep inside her pussy.
My mother kissed me again, our tongues playing with each other, while we both let our orgasms rip through our bodies.
I collapsed on top of her, and for a very long time we laid that way, together, slowly and softly caressing each other, and planting random kisses where we could plant them.
‘Do you hear?” my mother asked. “The rain has stopped. I did not hear a single thunder after we came inside.”
“We were very busy!” I responded.
After what seemed like hours, my mother again spoke out loud.
“I would really like staying in bed with you,” she said, “and I’m sure we’d fuck again, but I promised aunt Cheryl I’d bring her dinner and keep her company for a while.”
Cheryl was the younger sister of her mother, my grandma, who passed away three years ago at the age of 89 years. Cheryl now was 88 herself, and the last of a family that started out with thirteen children.
She lived not far from my mother, but it would take my mom almost an hour to get there using small country roads, and it would probably be after midnight before she would be home again.
I let myself roll off of my mother, and propped up on one elbow I looked at her. “Would you like me to come with you?” I asked.
“No.” she answered. “I could use a little time on my own. I”ll see you tomorrow after work.” She kissed me lightly on my lips and disappeared into the bathroom.
—-
When I arrived home from work the next evening and entered the kitchen, my mother immediately came over to me and softly kissed me on my lips. This was absolutely not a mother kissing her son, this was a woman kissing her lover.
“How are you feeling?” she asked me.
“I’m feeling great.” I said, and asked her, “And you, how are you feeling?”
She looked me straight in the eyes, and quite seriously she said, “You gave me an experience that I will never forget as long as I live. I thank you with all my heart.”
And that was all there was ever said about it. Well, actually – not quite. But I will come to that later in this story.
A few days later, as we were having dinner together, my mother asked me, “Why did Jen and you split up? Can I ask?”
“Of course,” I said. “I have no secrets for you.”
“There were two main reasons, I think.” I continued. “Firstly, I entered our relationship on the premise I would be the strong one in the relationship, always to be there for Jen, and not having real needs myself.”
“Of course that was bullshit,” I continued, “and when I wanted our relationship to change, I think Jen got really scared. For her it was like I was trying to renegotiate a contract she was fine with.”
My mother nodded.
“I don’t blame Jen.” I said. “She just said “Yes!” to an offer I made her.”
“Yes, I see.” my mother responded, “I understand how that would have been very difficult for the both of you.”
I nodded.
“But also,” I spoke again, “it is extremely difficult for Jen to clearly say what she wants, or when she wasn’t happy about something I’d done.”
I continued to speak, “She would signal her disappointment or desire, but she did it so subtle that I would easily miss her clues. And then she would explode. So, for her it was like she was telling me something, and I wouldn’t listen, and she’d feel not seen, and for me it was like she was going from “Everything”s fine!” to ‘Defcon 4, empty the missile silos!!” with no warning at all.”
“Yes,” my mother said, “I witnessed that once or twice when you visited.”
I nodded again. “I really like it,” I continued, “if someone is being very clear to me about what they want, and can accept a “No!” as an answer as well.”
“I am glad though,” my mother said, “that you are still speaking to each other.” Since I was staying with my mother Jen and I spoke on the phone once or twice a week.
That was all my mother wanted to hear, apparently. “Do you want coffee?” she asked, ending the conversation.
—-
The weather had been warm and nice all week, but on Friday it again was very hot and sticky. Even with the air conditioning in my car on full blast I was sweating profusely when I arrived home after work.
My mother silently handed me a cold beer the minute I entered the kitchen, and I drank with gratitude. I noticed she had obviously showered shortly before I came home; her hair was still damp, and she was wearing a long robe made of some very light and airy fabric.
“That”s a good idea!” I said, “I’m gonna take a cool shower myself!”
“You go do that!” my mother answered. “Dinner will be served in ten minutes.”
After I took a cool and refreshing shower I put on a light cotton djellaba I purchased in Morocco on a vacation with Jen a few years earlier, and went downstairs.
My mother had made us both a salad, and with some bread and butter and a good glass of white wine it was a perfect meal. After dinner we drank our coffee outside, and there was a cool breeze that made it a very nice evening after such a hot day.
After sitting in silence together for a while, just listening to the birds chatting away in the garden, my mother started to say something, but immediately broke off again. I looked at her in silence, and she started again.
“You like it when people are very clear about what they want, don’t you?” she said.
“Yes, I do.” I said, wondering where this would go.
“Well,” my mother said, “I would like it very much if you would give me oral pleasure again.”
I just looked at her, not responding, trying to have as little an expression on my face as possible.
“Oh!” my mother said. “I see.” Then she tried again. “I really would like it if you would eat my pussy again.”
“Now, you would like that, wouldn’t you.” I said to myself, not aware I said the words out loud.
My mother answered me just the same. “Yes, I would really like it if you would eat out my cunt.” she said, having that same devious grin on her face I had seen once before.
“Come on!” I said. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Then something occurred to me. “Or would you like to do it here, in the garden?” I asked.
My mother seemed to contemplate this, finally saying, “Perhaps another time. Right now I would like you to take me to your bedroom.”
“Alright.” I said, as I took her hand and led her to my bedroom.
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other, anticipating what was going to happen. My mother stepped into my arms, and we kissed softly, more expressing love than passion.
We undressed each other – but that was a short process, because she was wearing nothing under her robe, and I was naked under my djellaba.
Then we looked at each other again, this time savoring the sight of our naked bodies. My mother gripped the shaft of my dick, hard already, and performed her slow motion jerk off on me again.
Then she looked me straight in my eyes, and went to her knees. With her hand firmly at the base of my dick she pointed the head at her face, and then she closed her mouth on it. She began bobbing her head in a fuck-like motion.
I already was very excited at that point, and I was sure that I would come in no time if she continued sucking my dick the way she was.
As if she read my mind, my mother let go of my dick, looked up at me, and said, ‘Don’t hold back. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to taste your semen.”
She paused. Then she added, “Your spunk.” She paused again. “Whatever.” she finally said, “just come in my mouth.” She took my dick in her mouth again, resuming sliding her mouth over the length of my dick for as much of it she could take in, and then out again.
The first time my mother had given me a blowjob she was only exciting me, perhaps primarily expressing her love for me, but this time she really went to work on it. Her words only added to my excitement, and I was going to come any moment now.
“Are you sure?” I asked out loud. Without letting go of my dick my mother looked up at me – and I can’t describe that look, but it instantaneously pushed me over the edge. She held my gaze as I exploded in her mouth, shooting my cum deep in her throat.
She swallowed all she could, but there was more than she could handle. Cum started to spill out of her mouth at the edges, landing on her breasts in thick drops.
My mother continued sucking my dick until nothing came out anymore, and then got up. As she stood before me, I bowed my head to her breasts and licked off my own cum. My mother, still standing before me, rubbed her legs together in excitement, causing her body to make a corkscrew-like motion. She seemed to lose some of the strength in her legs, and grabbed my shoulders to prevent herself from falling.
“God, you taste nice!” she said.
“I never let a man come in my mouth before.” my mother continued, “but I just wanted to taste you so bad.” Then she looked at my face and added, “You licking your own seed off my breasts was so sexy!”
I grinned, and then I slowly started to push her towards the bed. “Now it’s my turn.” I said.
When she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her legs my mother let go of my shoulders and let herself fall onto the mattress. She scooted to the middle of the bed, and spread her arms, beckoning me to come to her. I went into her arms, and we kissed again. I reached for her body, and one of my hands found a nipple, hard and erect on top of her breast. I trailed the areola, then pinched the nipple between my finger and my thumb.
My hand traced downwards, following the curve of her belly towards her pubic hair and the mound underneath it. My mother parted her legs wide, sighing deeply. “Oh, my pussy wants to be touched by you so much!” she moaned.
My hand cupped my mother’s pussy, and it already was wet and open, the labia swollen and slightly apart from each other. With no resistance whatsoever my fingers slipped inside, first one, then another one, then a third. My mother moaned and pushed her pussy against my hand and the fingers inside of her. My thumb found her clit and I pushed at it, making circles around it.
My mother looked at me and said, “Oh, it feels so nice, the way you play with my pussy. Will you please lick me now?”
I crawled between my mother’s legs, and she spread them even wider. When I reached for a pillow, she lifted her butt, and I placed the pillow under her. She rested herself on it and said, “I never knew a pillow under my butt would make such a difference.”
“Oh yes!” I said, “it does.”
“Put your fingers inside me like you did and lick me!” my mother said to me. Last time she had her eyes closed the whole time, but now she was looking at what I was doing, and telling me what she wanted, really taking control.
I started to finger fuck her, going for her g-spot again, and explored her clit and pussy with my mouth and tongue. My mother was rocking her hips, making sure I hit all the right spots. She was moaning loudly, clearly enjoying what I was doing.
I sucked her clit, and then licked her pussy all the way up and down. When I approached her asshole she lifted her ass, in a clear suggestion I go deeper still. I licked her pucker, pushing the tip of my tongue inside of it as far as it would go.
My mother produced that sound that seemed to come from a place deeper than her throat again, and moaned, “Oh God! if you continue that, I’m going to come so hard!”
I let my tongue go to her clit again, and while I continued to stimulate her g-spot with two fingers of one hand I let the middle finger of my other hand first join them inside my mother’s pussy to lubricate it, and then slid it downward, towards her asshole. I pushed against it, and my mother pushed back, clearly wanting to feel my finger inside her ass. First one digit went in, and my mother kept pushing. A second digit followed, and then my whole finger was inside my mother’s ass.
She let out a long “Ohhhh God!” and continued to rock her hips, harder now. I fucked my mother with fingers of both hands, two fingers inside her pussy and one inside her ass, and my mouth went wild on her clit.
“Oh yes!” she moaned loudly. She gripped my head with both hands and pushed herself against my mouth. Louder still she moaned, “I’m going to come, oh God, I’m going to come so hard!” Her whole body tensed, and she came hard and long and loud. Eventually I let my fingers slip out of her body.
This time there was no sobbing. She was still holding my head, and she lifted it until I was sitting upright on my knees, between her thighs. She looked at me, straight in my eyes, and said, “Now fuck me. Fuck your mother. Put that lovely cock that God has made for you into the pussy that same God made for me, all for our pleasure.”
And yes, maybe she was excited beyond control, and yes, she used an entirely different vocabulary than she would in Sunday church, but her prayer, her saying thank you to the God that made it possible for her – for us! – to have this mind-blowing experience by giving me a cock and her a pussy was real and heartfelt.
I placed my hands on either side of my mother’s body and let my own upper body hover over hers. With two hands she grabbed my dick. It was rock hard, although I already came once. She caressed her own pussy and clit with the tip of my dick, completely coating it with her fluids. Then she placed it at her pussy hole, put her hands on my ass and pushed my dick all the way into her, in one slow and long movement.
I started to move inside her pussy in the same long and slow strokes as I did the first time I fucked her, pulling my dick out of her pussy until only the tip grazed her lips, and then sinking myself completely in her pussy again. Every stroke was accompanied by a long moan coming out of my mother’s throat.
When I pulled my dick back almost all the way out of her pussy again my mother shifted her weight slightly on the pillow, causing my dick to slide out of her pussy, gliding deeper down, ending with the tip of my dick right against her asshole. “Oh no!” she cried out, taken by surprise, “I am not sure!”
Jen had really loved it when I fucked her ass, so the transition from pussy to asshole was something I had experienced numerous times. She also wanted to have full control when she worked to accommodate my dick into her ass. Together we had worked out a routine where I would place my dick against her asshole with just a little bit of pressure, and then keep completely still. This would give her an opportunity to lubricate her asshole with her own juices coating my dick, and the pre-cum leaking out of it. She’d then push back against my dick in small pushes, until it eventually would slide all the way up her ass.
When my dick slid out of my mother’s pussy and travelled to her asshole I instinctively stopped moving, applying just a little bit of pressure and nothing more. Although my mother had cried out in surprise she had not withdrawn her asshole from my dick. I could feel her making tiny movements against my dick, probing sensations that were obviously new to her.
She looked up to me and said, “Jen told me she liked anal sex.” She paused for a moment, then seemed to correct herself, saying, “That she liked it when you would fuck her ass.”
“Yes,” I said, “She liked it very much. She had her most intense orgasms that way.”
“Intense is the right word,” my mother replied. “I never would have guessed I would like to be fucked in my ass. Would really want it, to be honest.”
With that she started to move her ass against my dick with more focus and dedication. I held my dick where it was, sat upright on my knees again, and started to graze my mother’s pussy with the thumb of one hand, not touching her clit.
“Push harder!” she said, and I did. She also pushed her ass harder against my dick, and the head of it just glided inside of her. I stopped pushing at once, giving my mother a moment to adjust to the feeling she was now experiencing for the first time. I just slowly moved my thumb between the lips of my mother’s pussy, letting it slide into her and then out again.
“Push!” she said again, and again we both pushed at the same time, and my dick slid deeper into the ass of my mother, an inch at a time. That deep moan that came from somewhere below her throat, it seemed, escaped my mother’s mouth. “Oh God!” she said, her eyes wide in excitement. “I had no idea I would love the feeling of your cock inside my ass this much.”
“Put your cock all the way inside my ass,” she continued, and I pushed forward, going really slow, until my dick was buried completely inside her, my balls resting against her butt.
“I feel so full inside,” my mother said, and with my thumb playing with my mother’s pussy, including her clit this time, I started to fuck my mother in the ass, again in long and slow strokes.
My mother’s hands went to her own breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples. “I am going to come all over my body!” she moaned, adding another “Oh God!”
I was in that place where I could continue slowly fucking my mother for a long time without coming close to an orgasm. On the other hand I would be coming in seconds once I would begin to really slam into her.
My mother looked up to me again and said, “Oh, I am going to come so fucking hard!”
Her legs started to tremble and I said, “Come for me. I will come together with you!” With my thumb now really working her clit I began to fuck my mother’s ass harder, slamming my balls against her butt as I bottomed out in each stroke.
My mother moaned her deep moan again, and seemed to hold it for a very long time. She looked at me, holding my gaze, and I could see the approaching orgasm in her eyes as well as I could feel it in her trembling body and the way her ass clenched my dick. “Oh God!” my mother cried out once more. “Fuck my ass with your lovely cock. Come inside my ass! Oh God!”
My mother’s eyes seemed to turn upwards in their sockets and her whole body trashed when she finally came. The sight of her orgasm made me go over the edge myself, and I spewed my cum into my mother’s ass, rope after rope.
I don’t know if my mother had one very long orgasm or a series of them, one after the other, but she continued to moan and tremble and move for quite some time. First I let my dick stay where it was, riding my mother’s orgasm, but eventually I let it slip out of my mother’s ass. A little river of my cum followed, and that was a very exciting sight.
I laid down beside my mother, and she turned her back to me and we spooned. With one hand I caressed her, and slowly her body came to rest.
We laid together for a long time, and then my mother turned to me and kissed me lightly on my lips. “Let’s go downstairs.” she said.
It was dark outside, but it still was warm, so we decided to have a glass of white wine in the garden. We were silent for a long time. Then my mother spoke.
“Thank you so much for sharing all these experiences with me. There is nobody else that can make me feel as safe as you, and without that feeling of closeness and safety none of this would have been possible.” she said.
“You are very welcome.” I responded.
—-
Not long after Jen let me know she had found somewhere to live, and I returned to my own place. My mother and I called each other at least twice a week, but we never spoke of what we had experienced together.
During one of those telephone calls she said, “I have something to tell you. I met a man.” I congratulated her, and told her that I was very happy for her. Which I truly was. I met John the next time I visited my mother, and we got along very well from the start.
Three years later I got invited to their wedding. My mother asked me to give her away at the altar, which of course I did. The wedding party was in her own garden, and at some point my mother and I strolled together through the garden, looking at the results of the work we did together those years before, drinking a glass of champagne together.
“You know,” she said, turning to me and looking intently at my face. “You really changed my life, that time. I got so much better in knowing what I really want, and saying it out loud. That has made life so much easier for me.”
She raised her glass and lightly touched mine with it, looking me straight into my eyes. Just as I took a sip of my champagne she added, “And my sex life improved enormously, as well.” Her face broke out in that devious grin I had learn to know, and she continued, “It never ever was as good as when I was fucking you, but I have had really good sex after that.”
I almost choked on my champagne, and we were still laughing when John came to find my mother, asking her for a dance.
I watched them enjoying themselves, and looking at their happiness together was more rewarding than anything else.