When my wife ran off with her boss, I was crushed. We had been married for ten years and everything, from our careers, to our social life, to our sex life, was going great. Or so I thought. As it turned out, one week before our tenth anniversary, which I was really looking forward to, I came home from work and found a note on the table announcing Cheryl's departure. I was devastated. I was home getting shit-faced with a bottle of bourbon when the phone rang, but since I was in no mood to talk, I allowed the answering machine to click in.
"Hi, Paul. I have a surprise for you and Cheryl. Call me as soon as you get ho..."
I grabbed the phone and sighed deeply. "Hi, mama."
"Paul, you're home. For a moment I thought you were out. Listen, son, your father and I have decided to give you and Cheryl a present for your tenth anniversary. You want to guess what it is?"
"Mama, Cheryl ran out on me."
My mother fell silent before exclaiming, "Oh my God! Are you serious? That little bitch. That slimy little cunt."
I had to intervene. After all, Cheryl was still my wife, and as far as I was concerned, she might come walking back into my arms one of these days. "Don't call her a bitch, mama. I still love her. Don't worry. These are the brakes. I'll be okay."
My mother calmed down. "Well I'm glad you're taking it so well, son. Wait a minute. I know what we can do. Your father and I were giving you and that bitch...oops, sorry...I mean your wife, a Caribbean cruise for your anniversary. Now that she's gone, maybe you and I can go together. It will help you get your mind off that whore, that no good slut."
"Why don't you and dad go, mama?"
"You know your father. All he wants to do is stay home and drink beers and watch the WWF with his friends."
I didn't want to argue with my mother anymore. She always wins anyway. "Okay, mama. Anything you say." After hanging up the phone, I went back to nursing my bourbon.
On the day the cruise was to begin, dad drove mama and I to the pier where the cruise liner was docked. In the car, my mother was sitting in the passenger seat and I was in the back behind her. Occasionally, the cool breeze would blow my mother's face and hair, then pass over me, giving me a nice whiff of the sexy scent of her perfume, mixed with her natural body aroma. It immediately reminded me of when I was a boy and would be in the house afraid of lightning and thunderstorms and mama would take me into her bed to comfort me, allowing me to bury my face in her bosom, breathing the scent of her perfume.
My father's voice interrupted my daydream. "I knew that Cheryl was no good for you, son. But don't worry. You'll find another woman before you know it."
Mama jumped to my defense. "Why don't you stop reminding him? He's trying hard enough to get over the pain that bitch has caused him. The last thing he wants is to talk about her.
I didn't want an argument between them so I chimed in, "It's okay, mama. I'll be fine." I then looked up and saw the huge ship as dad turned towards the pier.
My mother and I stood on the main deck of the ship and waved to dad as the ship pulled away. A sudden sense of freedom came over my entire being. I was happy to be leaving my pain behind!
Once mama and I settled in our cabin, it dawned on me that there was only one bed. Mama, the usual comic, joked that it was okay for the two of us to sleep on the same bed. I laughed it off, but my mind immediately dismissed the thought, joke or no joke. After all, she is an attractive woman and I am a red-blooded American male with hormones fully in effect. I called cabin service and had them bring me a cot.
Throughout the night, I kept tossing and turning while my mother slept like a baby. At one point, I awoke and couldn't help staring at her. Her nightgown rode up her thighs and her white panties were exposed. I sat up and stared at her crotch for a while and felt my cock twitching and rising. Suddenly she rolled over and I snapped out of it, shook my head in shame, then went back to sleep.
The following night, my mother and I were on the main deck watching the stars as the ship slowly cruised along on the vast, dark ocean.
"Are you okay, son?"
"I'm fine, mama. And thanks a lot for taking me on this cruise."
She kissed me on the cheek and smiled, "It's my pleasure, son."
The PA system interrupted us by announcing an upcoming dance contest for married couples. "This sounds like fun. Let's go check it out," she said, leading the way.
When we reached the ballroom, the MC was explaining the rules and the elimination process. The couples that remained in sync with each other, keeping in step and rhythm together, would be allowed to remain on the floor. Those caught out of step and out of sync with each other would be asked to sit.
As we watched the couples lining up to dance, my mother blurted out something that surprised the hell out of me, "Let's enter as a couple, Paul."
"Mom, you're crazy. I can't even dance. You heard the guy, the couples have to be in step and in sync with each other," I responded.
"I don't care. Let's give it a shot. What do we have to lose?" she said, determined to do this.
I thought for a second and, not wanting to be a party pooper, decided to go along for fun. We were on the dance floor in no time, doing our thing, dancing up a storm. As we continued to dance, to my surprise, I noticed the competition kept dwindling, but mama and I just kept on dancing as if in a trance.
Suddenly the crowd was cheering us on. It was as if my mom and I had been dancing for years. As if we were made to dance with each other. Not wanting to let her down, I would watch her intently, my eyes glued to hers, mirroring every move she was doing. After an hour, with only my mom, myself, and three other couples left on the floor, the contest came to an end. The MC got up in front to announce the winners. Even though I had done it just for fun and to appease my mom, I found myself wanting to win. My whole body was sweating and I was visible nervous.
"And the winners are!" Drop roll… "Mr. and Mrs. Williams from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania!" The place roared with applause and cheers. Mama grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front to receive our trophy.
After the award ceremony, a love ballad came on, and the MC said, "As the winners you have to take the floor first. It's like the reception at your wedding," he concluded. I had to stifle my giggle when I heard him say, "at your wedding."
Mama and I began to slow dance. We embraced and I rested my head against her bosom, which was a sweaty from all that dancing; her sweat mixed with her perfume was now a potent combination penetrating my nostrils. There was no denying it. My fifty-five year old mother was arousing me. She was wearing a thin summer dress and I was afraid that she was going to feel my hard dick brushing against her crotch. I awkwardly withdrew my pelvis, trying to save face, but my mother caught on and responded with yet another surprise. She pushed her groin into mine. Then mama whispered in my ear, "I feel something growing down there."
I was petrified. "Oh, God, I'm so embarrassed," was all I could say.
She had yet another surprise for me. "Don't be embarrassed, son. Your father hardly ever even kisses me anymore, let alone fuck me. I'm flattered that a handsome young man like you finds your old bag of a mother attractive enough to get a rise out of you."
I jumped on that comment. "You're not and old bag, mama. You're a very beautiful and desirable woman. I don't ever want to hear you calling yourself an old bag again."
Suddenly I felt my mother's hand on my butt, squeezing it and pulling my crotch into hers. I felt like my dick was going to burst the front of my pants as it kept nudging my mother's crotch. "Let's go back to our cabin, Paul," she whispered in my ear as she grabbed my hand and led me from the dance floor.
As we made our way out of the dance hall, a voice called out, "Congratulations again, Mr. and Mrs. Williams." It was the MC.
"Thank you," my mother and I replied together.
Giggling, the MC continued, "Have a wonderful night and don't do anything I wouldn't do."