When I first realized that, sexually, my mother was a very desirable woman with all those attributes a young man could ever wish for, and not just my 'Mum', it didn't dawn on me gradually, but rather it hit me, literally, straight between the eyes.
The occasion was Mum's old college friend, Nancy, paying us a visit together with her American husband, Ray. Fiona and Nancy hadn't seen each other in years now that she lived stateside, even though they were in constant touch through Facebook, exchanging news, gossip and, I don't know, recipes?
I drove Mum to the airport to meet them when they arrived, and I stood with her, surveying the crowd, when I heard a high-pitched screech of delight,
"Feeeeeeeee...!!"
I turned to see this blond-haired, low-cut crimson-dressed fashion model type, with waving arms swinging manically through the air, trying to gallop out of the Arrivals Hall towards my mum but being restricted as she was by her combination of extremely high heels and her tight, tight dress. The male contingent of the Arrivals Hall stood momentarily transfixed in their appreciation.
"Nanceeeeeee...!!"
The gesticulations were reciprocated by my mum far more efficiently since her dress was much looser and her heels a lot lower. The two of them seemed to meet like a pair of car-crash dummies and the volition pressed each one into the other, threw their arms around each other and mashed their full breasts upwards and backwards into their chests. They hugged, they laughed and they kissed and they kissed some more.
I know, looking back, that I should have realized far more quickly that my mum was desirable. I mean, I was standing there with open mouth taking in the lusciousness of her friend Nancy without it occurring to me that they'd shared a dorm at college together for a couple of years before Mum had dropped out to have me, and so they were both about the same age.
Over Nancy's shoulder I saw behind their overladen luggage trolley the athletic figure of husband Ray, the epitome of what we British used to think of as American before we were exposed to movies like 'Super-Size Me' - he was tall, tanned, muscular, blond of hair and white of tooth - and he was apparently very successful in the company he'd helped to found.
Coming around the trolley, he enthusiastically embraced and kissed my mum. Then I was introduced.
"Tom, hey, man, how's it going?" and my hand was enclosed in this bone-crushing grip. I hated Ray already.
But I so didn't hate Nancy. My hand was taken and I was pulled in towards her perfumed chest. And a kiss was placed on each cheek.
"My, you're a handsome lad! Fee, I think the last picture you sent me of Tom, he must have had freckles all over his face and was paddling around bare-assed in the sea with his bucket and spade... but this, mmm, this is something entirely different!"
She held me at arm's length and looked me over appraisingly from top to bottom. I felt that her eyes lingered momentarily on my crotch in passing, but, yeah, that was probably just my infatuation.
The small talk flowed easily between us as we led them out and we were already all smiles and laughter. Ray's gleaming teeth seemed to be making steady inroads into my mother's affections as she looked alternately from the one, her long-lost friend, back to the other, this walking ad for kicking sand over beach-bum losers.
They had insisted on staying at a hotel in the city centre during their visit because our house was relatively small - it might have been OK for a couple of nights, but it would have been a squash - but as I followed Ray and the two women from the hall out onto the concourse and I eyed the spring-laden ass of Nancy in front of me, I thought that a squash might not have been a bad idea at all.
And they weren't staying at just any hotel, oh no - it was the flashiest one in town equipped with swimming pool, gym, sauna and tennis courts. This had been the deciding factor for Ray who, apparently, followed a strict regimen in order to look the way he did - It seems those looks came at a price but, what the hell, they were floating on money, as I found out when we rolled up to the hotel entrance. A valet sprang out of nowhere to take care of the luggage and his smile didn't even flicker when faced with the impressive number of suitcases that faced him on opening the rear hatch of the car. Yet another insisted on whisking the car away from us and disappearing with it round the corner.
Inside, the hotel oozed opulence. Definitely not one of those places where the floor carpeting turns threadbare the moment you reach the first landing. On the drive over, Ray had said he wanted to get a taste of the real England, so it occurred to me that if that's what he wanted, then maybe they should go live at our house while we could 'suffer' the hotel.
Anyway, we saw them settled in and arranged to meet at our's later for one of Mum's home-cooked meals and then we left them to their own devices. The valet seemed a bit miffed that he had to go back and bring out the car he'd only stowed away a quarter of an hour before, but I was still more miffed when I found we were expected to tip him - and we weren't even staying there...!
Back home, Mum put the finishing touches to one of her special Italian dishes, while I busied myself with setting out the table. Then all was ready and Mum just had to go upstairs to change into something more suitable. Had she felt a little dowdy opposite the fabulously dressed Nancy? Or was it what I suspected, that she wanted to impress Ray? Whatever the reason, when she came back downstairs it was a transformation.
She'd now gained several inches in height with her new choice of sling-back heels, her hair which had been tied back now hung in gentle waves down over her shoulders, and - and her shoulders were bare except for the spaghetti straps of a clinging black dress that plunged dramatically at the front and displayed the demi-globes and aspects of the inner chasm between her breasts to full advantage. But to whose advantage?
I had no time to take this all in or even wonder whether I
should
be
taking it all in because at that moment a flash of headlights through the window announced the arrival of our guests' taxi. I threw Mum a reassuring smile as she tugged at the bottom hem of her dress which seemed to insist on riding up, and hurried to open the door to greet Nancy. Well, OK then, Ray and Nancy...
Nancy didn't disappoint. If Mum's cleavage had been a ski slope, then it was one for beginners. Nancy's, in comparison, was the large hill ski jump, with her silky cream dress holding on to her breasts purely by virtue of the thin halter neck. I would have loved to take a step back to observe the whole thing, but I was again grabbed and pulled to her chest and given a large kiss, this time on the mouth.
"Mmm, yummy, can't get enough of you. There you go, Tom, stick that in the cooler." she meant the bottle of wine which she thrust into my hand, but I thought maybe I should join it there as well, such was the effect of Nancy's kiss. I'd just been given my first boner of the evening.
It was the first of many, because sitting across from her at the dining table I was afforded tantalizing glimpses now and then of extra reaches of her buoyant breasts as she stretched across for the salad bowl, as she turned to touch Ray on the arm, as she leant over to caress Fiona's forearm when telling her something funny. She smiled each time she caught my eye roaming. So it's safe to say I was probably stiff for the duration of the meal.
Afterwards, Ray and I sat finishing off our first bottle of wine while Nancy and Fiona went out to the kitchen to wash up and catch up on more personal stuff, girly-type stuff I suppose. Ray casually interrogated me as to whether I enjoyed sport, apparently a favorite subject of his. When I told him I played rugby at college he was at a bit of a loss as to the rules, so I casually mentioned it was a bit like American football but without all the timeouts and without any of the protective padding. I also added that usually an ambulance was put on standby for the game, and it was considered dull if at least one player wasn't rushed off to casualty in the middle of it. He accepted my sly dig with equanimity, and asked if I played tennis, since he liked to get a few sets in once a day to keep the muscles toned. Apparently tennis courts were basic requirements in American homes. He said he would usually play against Nancy, but he was bored with winning all the time.
"You should play against my mum, she loves tennis, and she's good. I'm afraid my level's probably like Nancy's, and you'd wipe the floor with me..." So I gave him that one. It was one-all in our unspoken game of one-upmanship.
"Let me just go get us a refill." I indicated the bottle we'd drained and took it out to the kitchen to find Mum and Nancy standing together in a very, very close embrace.
They drew apart, smiling, with no sense of embarrassment, and the two of them looked me over, both of them glancing, for some reason, at my crotch. Had Nancy been telling Mum how she'd managed to get an instant reaction from me and that at their age they were still well capable of seducing lads like me? I stuttered something about the wine and turned and bent down into the fridge. Something told me the two of them were taking in my ass as I did this, so in a perverse moment I squatted down by the fridge door and was aware I was presenting them a view of my builder's crack. I took a bottle out and turned just as Nancy was nudging my mum in the ribs, the two of them grinning widely. I took the screw and deftly started to uncork the bottle. Nancy stroked my arm muscles appreciatively and purred,
"Mmm, you're so strong..."
"Nancy, now stop it! Look, you've got him blushing all over, poor lad..!"
And they closed in on me from either side, Nancy's pneumatic breast pushing into me from the right while Mum's pushed in from the left. They stroked my hair and arms and actually cooed.
"He's very much like Alan, don't you think, Nance?"
"Mmm, you're so right, and if he's got all of Alan's, umm, attributes, then he's probably got all the girls begging as well, just like we used to beg, remember?...so, has he?"
I'd heard of Alan. Were they talking of the Alan who'd impregnated my mum and then went off on a gap year from which he never returned? People reckoned he'd gone native in the Far East and that that accounted for most of the population explosion over there. It certainly accounted for why I'd never known my father.
Mum looked at me, cupping her chin in one hand, "Well I THINK he's probably built like Alan, but you know how it is, when they reach puberty they get a bit shy about their tackle..."
Mum was really teasing me...I think... I raised the bottle. "The wine, remember?"
