A Parent's Love and a Son's Memory

Thanks to BBWLOVER56 for the idea behind this story. Thanks also to bear2read for helping me with editing and writing a better story.

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Lucas never forgot how beautiful spring was in Montana. Off in the distance near a mountain range, he gazed upon a wonderful and beautiful rainbow that had formed near the valley of the peaks. Small white puffs of clouds could be seen overshadowing the treeline. Old man Tucker had offered him a lift from town about 30 miles back. Since then Lucas had been thinking non stop about his life prior to the Marine Corps.

His father had died when Lucas was four years old. His mother, Samantha, had raised him until the age of eighteen, when she took him to an enlistment office. "You need to become a man," she had said, "and you cannot do that here. Go, make something of yourself and when it is time, you will come back to me." Lucas remembered his mother as a kind and nurturing soul. His needs had always been met. There had always been struggles, with no father to help ease the burden, but his mother had never complained. He remembered her as a hard worker, diligent and always loving. She had loved Lucas with all her heart, never taking the grief from the loss of her husband out on Lucas. There had been times when Lucas had heard her crying, but she usually tried to only cry in private, never letting Lucas see a single tear. Lucas had done everything he could as a young, small boy to help his mother around the ranch, but he had always felt he had failed. There were just too many things he could not do. Now, he was almost home, and it was time for him to take care of his mother.

As the rusty pickup slowed down to a halt, Lucas scanned the distance toward the log cabin his father had built many years ago. He saw a pillar of smoke coming from the double-chimney atop the cabin. Yup, this is the time his mother begins to bake up a batch of apple pies, bless her heart. A smile reached Lucas's face. He was home.

"Sorry, Lucas, but this old rust bucket will never make the grade to the cabin," Mr. Tucker apologized. Lucas understood. The drive was long, about a mile and a half from the road.

"Quite all right Mr. Tucker. I am more than capable to make it on my own. I'll make sure mother passes a few apple pies in your direction for giving me a lift."

Mr. Tucker smiled. "Look after your mother Lucas, and tell her the wife and me send our best"

Lucas waved a farewell to Mr. Tucker who sped off toward home. Reaching down, Lucas picked up his duffle bag and started toward the cabin. Leaving at eighteen and returning at twenty-four meant he had spent six long years away, four of which had been spent in South Korea. What had used to be a long walk now was nothing for Lucas' military training had left him as a strong young man, in nearly perfect physical shape.

Just before getting to the porch, Lucas turned and glanced downward into the valley. He noticed that the sun's rays had broken through the clouds; and the beams of warmth and light were shining upon his father's grave stone. Dropping the duffle bag, Lucas fell to one knee and bowed his head. He whispered to himself, "Thank you father, for your love and guidance. I will make you proud by taking care of mother."

Lucas stood, turned around, and found his mother waiting and stepped into her arms. A single tear trailed down her face as her arms surrounded his body bringing with them the warmth and comfort Lucas had only been able to dream about. Losing his father had caused Lucas to need more from his mother. She was everything to him as he grew up. She was his protector, provider, friend, healer and comforter. His every memory had her in it. The days spent away in South Korea had been painful. He had felt lost and alone without her loving tender arms to wrap around him and her voice to guide and teach him.

Now, standing on the porch, feeling her warmth surround him, Lucas could feel his heart swell with love, but Lucas also felt a tingle of something else. She was beautiful. He remembered her as a small woman, short and thin. Now, he held her body and it filled his arms. Her large voluptuous breasts rubbed against him, pushing into his chest. Her full dumpling cheek rested upon his chin as he kissed her face. Lucas could not help the warmth flooding his body. She was the center of his heart, holding a part of him no one else could. She was his strength and love, and yet, something he did not recognize also filled him. He was filled with a longing, a desire to hold her in his arms always. To give to her what no one had been able to give since the passing of his father. Lucas did not understand this desire. He only knew that things would never be what they had been before he had left.

Lucas grabbed his duffle, wrapped his arm around his mother's shoulders and headed into the house. He did not know what being back home would bring, but he knew that he wanted to be with his mother. He chose to ignore his deeper yearnings at that moment. Instead, he sat down with his mother in the living room. Having spent so many years apart, they both needed to reminisce. As the hours passed, more and more memories flowed from their hearts. Lucas gazed at his mother lovingly, wondering how he could have ever left her side, knowing without a doubt that his love for her knew no bounds.

Lucas felt unsure of himself as the night went on. Sitting in the quiet of this home, smiling and talking with his mother caused the desires in him to resurface. He did not understand why he was thinking of his mother as a woman. Her body and nature called to him. He struggled to maintain a smile and talk to her. He shared with his mother, Samantha, about his Korean wife. She had been caring and wonderful wife. She had taught his young heart much about passion, but there had always been something missing from the marriage. She had died one day going to the market. There had been rebels shooting in the streets. She had taken a stray bullet. Her death had been a difficult thing for Lucas to overcome. He had cared about her, but upon learning of his wife's death, Lucas had wanted to come home, to feel the comfort of his mother's arms. He had not been thinking of the comfort of his wife's arms. When Lucas had to make the decision of staying in the Marines or going home, he had chosen the latter.

Now, as he sat in the same room with Samantha, he wondered if he had made the right choice. His mother was more beautiful than his imagination had been able to conjure. She was everything that his wife had not been. Where his wife had been small and wispy, his mother was short but full. Her arms were meaty, her breasts almost unable to be contained by clothing, her stomach curvy not flat and her legs were stout and strong. She bore the marks of a hard working woman.

As the days passed, Lucas became more and more comfortable being home. His mother had run the ranch with her quiet efficiency for so long. Now, he chopped wood for the fireplace, helped clear weeds and overgrown grass. He cleaned up the area around his father's grave, doing the hard clean up his mother had been unable to handle. All the while, his mother looked on him with a shining smile full of joy and love. Her son was home. She made delicious home cooked meals every night, making sure he always had dessert too. She wanted to give him everything that she could, fulfilling all his needs and wants. He always felt peaceful until the evenings when he would feel the lure of his mother's body and love. He felt disloyal to her. Lucas wondered if she would do as much for him if she knew that she stirred his manly desires. He wondered if she knew he thought of her late at night, picturing sharing their love in a new way.

In the beginning, Lucas and Samantha struggled to get the exact routine down. Samantha had run the workings of the ranch and life on the ranch for so long alone; it was difficult getting used to another body waking in the morning. Lucas did more for her upon his return than she could have ever dreamed. Her heart and joy had been missing from her life during the six years he had been gone. She had seen him occasionally when he had his two years of training, but once he had been sent to South Korea, life had become even lonelier. She was sad his wife had passed away, sad she hadn't seen the wedding and sad that he had seen heartache. Now, she wanted to do everything to make his life happy.

Yet Samantha struggled with her son's return. She had told Lucas he needed to leave the ranch to become a man, but she had had her own selfish reasons for "pushing him out the door." She had found herself attracted to her growing son. Her husband had been gone for fourteen years, and as Lucas had gotten older, he had reminded Samantha of her late husband. When she found herself thinking of her son making love to her, she had made the hard decision to take him to the enlistment office. For six years she had thought about her lanky eighteen year old son, crying over her lack of self control, crying because she had sent him away because of her own inability to control herself.

Now, Samantha was struggling even more. Her little boy had indeed gone away a scared child but had come back a fully mature man. He had seen many things during the war and experienced the arms of a woman, his wife. And yet, even now, Samantha desired her son. She desired him more because of his unrelenting care of her and his strong muscular build. He took care of her the way no one else ever had. She felt her own body's betrayal like a knife in her heart. She had to control herself or risk losing her son again, maybe forever.

Their routine became a comfort to both of them as the days passed, but their personal struggles continued to pull them both away from each other. They would wake together, Samantha making breakfast as Lucas cleaned up. Then, eating breakfast together before Lucas would go out and do repairs on the house and surrounding area. Samantha would make him a lunch of hefty sandwiches, potato salads, and fresh baked goods. In the afternoon, Lucas would go into town, about forty miles away, to pick up supplies and do odd jobs for people around town. They both always felt a breath of relaxation come when he left, but every night when he returned home a delicious and filling meal would be waiting.

Samantha filled her days regulating her routine to accommodate her son's return and his desire to take care of her. She fixed his meals, washed his clothes and kept the house cleaned. She worked in her garden and tried to keep a fresh supply of baked goods around. She often spent the days in silent prayer begging for release from her desires. She wanted her son to be in her life, but how could she want him in ways she should only want a husband.

The struggle they both inwardly fought never seemed to go unnoticed by the other. They would often spend an evening on the porch watching the sunset while sharing thoughts and memories. If the air was too chilly, Lucas would build a fire in the fireplace and they would talk inside sitting on the couch. Both of them wanted the situation to work. Lucas fought to keep his hands to himself, when he wanted to pull her body into the crook of his arm.

Months passed. Lucas and Samantha got used to their schedules, working around each other, trying hard to keep physical contact to a minimum. Samantha would often spend an hour each afternoon while her son was away in his room. She would lie on his bed, and allow herself to surround her body with his smell. On days when she would strip his bed and wash the sheets, she would allow herself moments of pleasure. She found she washed sheets more often now that Lucas was home, and she started to enjoy the wash days.

It was on just such a wash day that Lucas came home from town early. Walking into the house, Lucas stopped when he heard what sounded like moaning. Thinking that maybe his mother was ill, Lucas headed toward Samantha's bedroom. Finding it empty though, Lucas followed the sounds. The door to his room was partially closed, but he could still see most it. Lucas walked into the doorway of his room reaching to open the door, he stopped in his tracks. There on his bed was his mother.

Not knowing quite what to think, Lucas walked a few steps into the room. He was worried his mother was ill, but something in his gut told him the situation was different, fragile. The moaning from the bed became more intense. Lucas watched in fascination as his mother struggled to pull her dress up her body. Her hands seemed desperate to rid herself from the confines of her clothing.

Samantha seemed to give up on removing her dress. Instead her hand came to rest in between her legs. Her palm began rubbing furiously over her pubic mound causing her body to arch into her hand. The moans turned into purrs of satisfaction as his mother lay on his bed touching herself intimately. He had never seen anything like this. On silent feet Lucas backed out of the room. He walked down the hall and sat on the chair just inside his mother's room. He could still see and hear her, but she would not be able to see him. Then he heard his name, and he sat frozen in place.

"Lucas," she murmured over and over again. His name was on her lips as her climax built. Lucas heard her moans filling the house. His body responded to her call. He felt himself harden as she whispered his name. His hand couldn't help but move to aid his body. Unbuttoning his pants, Lucas began stroking his hard shaft. He could hear her moans calling to him. He looked around her room and smelled her everywhere. Closing his eyes, he listened as Samantha's moans picked up. Her pleasure was building and Lucas allowed himself to get lost in the sounds she made. He wanted his body to be in harmony with hers. She started panting, and Lucas knew she was close to the end. He felt his body tense at the sounds of her falling over the edge. He whispered her name "Samantha," and felt his body release as she groaned his name.... "Lucas!"

Lucas sat in Samantha's room trying desperately to regain his composure. He was weak. It had been so long, he had exploded everywhere. His hands, pants and the floor bore marks of his pleasure. He grabbed a towel off his mother's dresser and cleaned as much as he could before sitting back down. He allowed himself to close his eyes and smile. His heart was warm, his mind was troubled. Sitting there thinking about all the reasons he should not have listened to his mother, Lucas realized he heard crying. His mother was crying. He could not bear her sorrow knowing he had done the same thing as she had.

Standing up, Lucas walked down the hall to the door of his bedroom. He heard his mother talking, so he stood and listened. "Lucas, oh Lucas, I cannot help these feelings of desire that course through my body. You are my son. It is not right that I desire to lie with you. I sent you away to the Marines when my body betrayed me the first time. Now, I can not bear the thought of losing you again. Yet, I do not know if I can deny my body or my love any longer. I wish to feel your body surrounding me, loving me as a man loves a woman. I want to feel the power in your muscles as you mount me with passion. I want to know how it feels to be filled with your body. Oh Lucas, your mother loves you." Samantha gasped for breath as her crying over took her body.

Lucas tried to breathe as he watched his mother lose control. She had cum with his name whispering from her lips, and she had sent him away because she was drawn to him six years ago. His heart broke at the thought of her being alone and lonely for so long. Not wanting her to suffer any longer, Lucas walked quietly into the room. His mother still lay on his bed, recovering from her climax. He walked to the side of the bed and looked down into her face.

Samantha opened her eyes and saw the baby blue eyes of her son. Letting out a scream of pure horror, Samantha covered her face with her hands and began to cry harder than before. Her son had caught her thinking of him, talking to him, making love to him in her heart. She could not face him. She had failed him.

Lucas saw the panic and pain his mother was in. Reaching out, he gathered her into his arms. Samantha struggled against his hold. Her shame did not need to be doubled, knowing he pitied her. Lucas patiently held his mother in his embrace, comforting her the best he knew how. He lay down next to her and pulled her head to his shoulder, holding her to him as she wept. Her body automatically molded itself to his, wanting only to feel his warmth and acknowledging the comfort only he could bring. They fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace. When Samantha woke, Lucas was not with her. She was not sure if she had imagined his presence. Had she wished he was there because she wanted and needed him to know?

It was a beautiful spring evening when Samantha made her way downstairs, she found Lucas sitting on the porch in the swing. Trying to act as relaxed as possible, Samantha approached him and sat in the swing with him. Lucas simply smiled at his mother and put his arm around her shoulders. "Lucas, I'm sorry dinner wasn't ready when you got home today. I must have fallen asleep while working on the wash today."

"It is ok mom. I made some sandwiches and ate some salad. I made a plate for you as well. It is in the kitchen."

"Thank you Lucas, but I'm not very hungry right now. I think I will just sit here on the porch for a little while." Lucas smiled at his mother, nodded his head, and looked off into the distance at the mountains. He started talking to his mother reminding her of a story from his childhood.

"Mom, do you remember how stubborn I used to be about my baths. I never wanted to take one. I would come home dirty as a pig, having rolled around in the dirt and running through the woods finding treasures. You would chase me, running in circles until you caught me in your arms, and pulled me into the washroom. You would try to leave me there to wash up, but that would always end up in another chase. So, you would stand there and help me undress and clean all the crevices I had filled with dirt. I would stand there with a grin on my face because I had gotten you to wash me and all I had to do was stand there. You always knew what I was doing, but you never complained. You would play the game with me, even when I was old enough to be responsible for washing myself. It was a special joke between just you and me." Samantha smiled remembering fondly the game she had played with her son so many years ago.

"Mom, I need your nurturing touch again. I've been a dirty man today. I heard you in my room. I heard my name on your lips, and I was excited. I've thought of you in the same way. I lost myself in pleasure this afternoon the same way you did, and I did it in your room with your moans surrounding me, your name on my lips. I know we have hidden from our love, hidden from each other, but mom, I would like you to wash me again. Please." As he uttered his plea, Lucas turned and looked into his mother's eyes. He saw shock and pain, but he desperately needed to be with his mother. He wanted her to know that he felt the same attraction for her that she had for him. Quietly Lucas stood up and put out his hand, silently asking his mother to accept. Samantha hesitated at first, but being drawn to Lucas, she put her hand in his and followed him as he led her toward the family whirlpool that was built by his father long ago. It was a large round tub about four feet deep. It had served as the "bathtub" for many years. Letting his mother's hand go, Lucas looked deep into her eyes and reached for the tail of his shirt. Gently, he began to pull it off of his torso, only taking his eyes from his mother when he lifted his shirt over his head.

Samantha looked upon her son's strong, mature body. His shoulders were broad and full of power. His chest was smooth and muscled and his stomach soft to the touch but hard from working. Samantha gazed at his body, unable to stop her hand from going to his skin and caressing the places where scars now marred him. She had known he would be hurt, but seeing the scars and knowing the pain he must have endured brought tears to her eyes.