Mom complains, “We’re not dressed up for this place.”
I reply, “They no longer require a suit and tie; it’s the one tradition they dropped.”
I have reservations for 6:30; it’s only 6:00 now. I figure we can get a few drinks before we’re seated. I don’t mind waiting.
We walk in, and it’s crowded. I go up to the hostess and say, “Shoemaker, party of three.” Mom and Jane are still holding my hands. I don’t mind the crowd; people move out of my way. She looks over to three old men; they step up to us single file.
The first old man throws up his arms and yells, “Connie!”
He wraps his arms around her like they were old lovers. He kisses her on both cheeks, then he moves on to Jane to welcome her to their family restaurant; he stands looking at me with a tear in his eye.
The man asks, “Son?”
I nod my head yes, “Dad died about eight years ago.”
The man has tears running down his face, “They came here every week. He finally proposed to her. She’s an exquisite woman, but it was easy to tell they were both in love. They had a few Christmas dinners here, a family wedding, countless birthdays. I remember you as a little boy. MY, you have grown. Whatever you want, it’s on the house tonight. Please bring her back again; we miss her laugh.”
He gets out of the way so the next two can also kiss me on the cheeks. Mom wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me hard. She is crying yet still looks happy. Jane is shocked by this. I remember coming here as a child. I remember Christmas dinner and a few birthdays here. I love this place.
We are led to a table, their table. Mom cries again.
I ask with a grin on my face, “If the third chair bothers you, we can dump Jane.”
Mom laughs like it’s the best joke in the world. Jane slugs me in the arm.
Mom is still chuckling, “We have had many chairs at this table from time to time. It was our favorite place to do business. So no, we are not dumping your sister. I still love your father so much. You remind me of him so often. Your kindness. Your playfulness. Your generosity. You are two peas in a pod. Damn, I love you both so much.”
Jane adds, “You sure outdid yourself today. I never thought you could get me to enjoy a car show, but I must admit, those were some awesome-looking cars. Those first sets of cars were unbelievable, and the luxury and the amount of detail for the time was socking.”
Mom adds, “I agree; the whole day was a lot of fun. Thank you for bringing me back. This really touched my heart like you can’t believe it. I should have come back before; I love this place.”
We have cannoli for dessert, and I leave a generous tip.
On the drive home, I have to hold mom. She is emotional thinking of dad and the great times they had at Vincent’s. Jane offers her hand, and mom takes it well.
Once home, I guide mom through the foyer, dining room, and out onto the porch. Mom’s looking at me like I have lost my mind. Jane looks at me. I smile back at Jane. We both start taking off our clothes.
Mom is nervous, “Um. What are you doing?”
I ignore her.
Mom continues, “They can see us.”
I continue stripping. Her mouth is wide open. The outside lights are dimmed, surprising all three of us. Jane and I jump into the pool at the same time. It’s heated and feels incredible. I try to swim laps, but mom puts out a hand and grabs my shoulder. Because I am in motion and a lot bigger, she gets dragged behind me. Her arms are quickly around my neck, moving her up my back. I am in the middle of the pool. I stop, squat down, and promptly push up, jumping partially out of the pool with my mother screaming and springing out of the water involuntarily.
I fall forward, pushing a massive wave of water into my sister, knocking her over. She stands up, and she’s furious with her breasts swaying sexily. Mom falls off me into the water laughing her ass off. That didn’t help; Jane is ready to take swings at me. Mom steps between us and reaches out her arms, toddler style, and they hug. Four amazing breasts smashing into each other.
Mom steps back, embarrassed, “Oh Bill, now I understand why you love hugs so much. Her breasts are amazing.”
Jane instantly blushes. We all laugh. We spend an hour frolicking in the pool, enjoying each other’s company. It’s relaxing, exciting, and we enjoy a few tender moments. I feel at ease with my life now. I know they love me at work, at home, and I am no longer haunted by Vickie. I no longer need her in my life; I have mom and Jane. They love me unconditionally.
It’s about 9:00 when we get out of the pool and head up to our rooms to shower. Mom is amused when I pass my sister’s door and continue to follow her straight into her shower. Mom picks up a washcloth; I take it from her forcibly. She looks at me, smiles, turns around, hands on the wall, and her legs are split.
I give her neck, arms, and shoulders a quick massage. Next, I wash her body with the washcloth. I hit every square inch of her body. Her pussy, thighs, and breasts got a bit more attention. We’re both breathing hard. I love pleasing my mother. I hand her back the washcloth, then I use my bare hands to caress her entire body. I quickly alternate squeezing breasts and nipples. Squeeze right breast, squeeze left breast, squeeze the right nipple, squeeze left nipple as fast as I can.
With every moan from mom, I tingle throughout my body. This is new. After a small orgasm, I squat and enter my mother from behind. She surprises me by breaking away and running out of the shower. I quickly shower. As I exit the shower, mom throws me a towel to dry off as she runs playfully into the bedroom. I heard her giggle as she ran. My heart is overflowing with the way I’m making my mother feel.
My heart skips a beat as I walk into the bedroom and see my mother on the bed. She has her hands and knees on the bed, with her head looking behind to verify I am coming. I take two enormous strides and then jump over the end of the bed. Two quick knee steps, and I am pressing my large cock into my mother’s pussy. I am slow and gentle. Mom moans; I want to howl like a wolf in heat.
Mom surprises the hell out of me, “Bill. Could you. No. Never mind.”
You can’t do that! You know I will want to know now. I’m being played.
I command her, “Out with it, what?”
Mom is blushing, “No, it’s not fair to you. You and your father are different.”
She has my interest piqued, “What!!! Out with it.”
Mom sounds bashful; she can’t look at me as she whispers, “Your father was … more forceful … rougher in bed. Could you … No. Sorry.”
I can’t help my following words, “Oh? Dad had a kinky side to him? He liked to rough you up?”
Mom turns around and sits on the bed; she wants to talk.
Mom is blushing more than ever, “Your dad was like you, a gentle man. Like you, he was hard to anger, but if you did, watch out. You see why I say I see so much of him in you? No, it wasn’t him that liked it rough; it was me. In college, I had a guy that liked it rough. He made me feel so cheap and used, yet somehow, I loved it. Your father had to learn how to do that. I wanted to ask you, but that’s just me putting your father’s personality in you, and that’s not fair to you.”