Author's Note: There's not that much of what you'd call "action," in this chapter, and I know that's not everyone's cup of tea. I have some ideas of where to take the story next, but feedback and suggestions are also welcome.
As always, all sexual situations only involve characters 18 and older.
I should probably talk a little bit about my dad, Bryan, to start. He's always been the smart, go-getting type, and in his early 20's was already the owner of a small but burgeoning business. By the time he was thirty, that business was starting to really kick things into high gear, being worth about a million dollars. That's when he met his wife, my mom, Paula. She was only eighteen at the time, and as she puts it, "was completely swept off her feet," by Dad. That's not surprising to me, since Dad was not only handsome and charming, but also the type that wouldn't stop whenever he wanted something.
It was practically love at first sight when he met Mom, and within a year afterwards he not only had her as his wife but me as his first born. I know they tried to have more children, but then Mom had a couple of miscarriages and after that they gave up on the idea. It's always been painful topic for both of them, especially her, so I don't bring it up often, but to the best of my understanding, that's what happened.
Life was tough but good from then on for them. Dad kept putting in long hours at work, but his business continued to thrive and grow. Mom stayed at home, putting most of her efforts into raising me, but developed other hobbies too like art and photography. They always managed to make time for each other, and despite the hectic lifestyles you could always tell that they were still very much in love and hadn't drifted apart as could have easily happened with another couple.
My relationship with my parents was a little more complicated. Dad had been, for all intents and purposes, absent for much of my childhood, leaving me mostly with Mom, and she and I developed a tight bond with one another. Tight, but still notably awkward at times. Mom was often very reserved, even with me or Dad; it almost came across as shyness, although that's not really the best word to describe it. She could be even worse with strangers. Mom just like to keep to herself a lot, and even when you talked to her you always got the impression that she had some secret beneath the surface that she wasn't telling you. It added an air of mystery to her, but could also come across as being distant or aloof.
If you're thinking that her secret might be an affair, I can assure you that wasn't case. Her devotion to Dad was unparalleled, although I don't doubt a gorgeous woman like Mom had plenty of opportunities to test that over the years. I have no hesitation calling her "gorgeous," either; one look at her crystal blue eyes framed by that angelic face would be enough to captivate most men. Her body type was more petite than anything, but extremely well proportioned, with curves that could turn heads anywhere, especially if she wore anything that accentuated her shapely hips.
I still remember going out with Mom as a kid, grocery shopping or whatever, and all of the salesmen that would approach her, ignoring the small child standing next to her and the glistening diamond wedding band on her finger. I say "salesmen," because that's what Mom told me they were; it was only years later that I was able to piece together that they were really strangers trying to pick her up. No matter though; Mom always rebuffed their advances quickly but discretely, with the class and charm which makes me truly realize how lucky Dad was to have married her. She's forty-two now, but other than the odd wrinkle that has managed to creep into her face, is just as beautiful as ever, and she takes care of her body well enough that any "maturity" it's developed over the years is mostly an improvement. And so it wasn't a big deal to Dad if Mom's new tennis instructor at the club was flirty and handsome, or if her riding instructor's eyes liked to linger a little too long at the tight equestrian pants she wore to his lessons; he never worried about what Mom might be up to behind his back, and he never had to.
Years passed, and I graduated college with a business degree. Wanting to strike out in the world for myself, I moved out and got a small but nice bachelor's pad and then hit the job market. Things didn't go nearly as well on that front as I had hoped, which is probably not that surprising considering I was a new graduate with no experience, so after a bit of cajoling from Dad, I came to work for him. I asked not to be coddled or get special treatment, and Dad was more than happy to oblige, letting me work my way up the company. After a year of two of this, I began to work with Dad directly, and even if he didn't say it I could tell he was training me to take over when he finally decided he'd had enough. That was fine by me; I felt as if I earned it with the hard work I'd put in even if that wasn't entirely true.
Working with Dad had also done wonders for our personal relationship. It gave us one more thing to connect over, and I think I might have spent more time with him in the three years since joining his company than in all of the rest of my years combined. We were closer than ever and everything seemed perfect, until that fateful day that turned everything upside down for the three of us.
I'll never forget the day when Dad told me he had a rare, obscure illness and the doctors were only giving him about six months left. Those feelings of shock, horror, and sadness were more than anything I could ever express in words. I'm not the outwardly emotional type, generally speaking, but everything was different that day with Dad and Mom with all of us hugging and crying. Over the next few weeks, I spent more and more time at the house with them, until finally deciding to move back home to help out the both of them wherever I could. I also took a paid hiatus from work -- being the owner's son has its privileges -- although I still checked in from time to time, as Dad did even though he also took a leave of absence, presumably for good. When the news had come, I was also put in charge of Dad's finances and other personal dealings, so that meant being in regular contact with Dad's lawyer, accountants, and so forth. As overwhelming as any of this was, however, none of it prepared me for what was about to come next.
It was a hot, sunny afternoon and I was in my old room, trying to do a little work from home on my computer when Dad came in to see me. I was a bit surprised by the intrusion, as I knew Mom was planning on lying out by the pool as she often did when it was nice outside and that Dad would always accompany her. It was nice to see them together like that, and so I would gladly find something to do as to give them their alone time.
"James, we need to talk," Dad said. Even to the degree that the illness had already managed to weaken him, Dad could still mean business when he spoke with such conviction, and so I immediately put away what I was working on. Dad went over and took a seat on the end of my bed while I faced stayed in my office chair, facing him.
"What is it, Dad?" The look on his face looked distressed, and I could feel myself starting to get worried.
"It's your mother," he began uneasily. "We've had a lot to talk about since the news came, and frankly... I'm very worried about how she'll be after I'm gone."
"She'll be okay, Dad," I said reassuringly. "It's going to take time for her, you have to expect that, but she'll be okay."
"What I don't need is your horseshit platitudes, son. Besides, I know Paula a lot better than you do. She
won't
be fine, not by a long shot. She's not one of those people who can live in solitude. She needs companionship, someone to take care of and take care of her, a man in her life. I've tried talking to her about it, and she knows I'm right, but still swears she doesn't want to be with anyone else. It's not fair, James. And she's only forty - two..."
"Well," I answered, trying to be as delicate as I could, "like they say, time heals all wounds and, platitude or not, it's true. Maybe she says that now, and I'm sure she means it, but there's a natural grieving process to losing a loved one too. And, after all that, Mom might choose to start seeing other people, or she may not. Either way, that's her decision. You can't force her to do anything."
"It's not about force, son, it's about knowing what's best for my wife after I'm gone. She's always been faithful to me, even when a lot of other women might not have been, and that's not going to be easy for her to move on even though that contract is supposed to be over after death. Besides, as much as I love your mother... she has her faults too, including being easily manipulated. Even if she does decide to move on and find someone else, I don't trust her in finding a good husband. She'd probably end up with some guy who'd leave her heartbroken right after swindling away all of our money. I'd feel a lot better if I got to play a role in the whole thing."
"Are you saying that you want to find someone for Mom now, while you're still with us?" I asked in disbelief. "That seems so wrong Dad, and besides, there's no chance she would ever agree to such a thing."
"Wrong or not son, it would greatly put my mind at ease. Look, I'm letting you to handle my personal affairs before I go, because I trust you and because I don't need or want that stress in my life right now, but this situation with your mother is too much for me to ignore. I won't rest easy until I know for certain that she's going to be well taken care of after I'm gone."
"She's not a child, Dad. Mom can take perfect care of herself if need be. Hell, she basically ran our household when I was a kid and you were out conquering the business world."
"Yes, and its reasons like that that make me realize how lucky I was to find a wife like Paula. I don't doubt she had plenty of temptations to cheat on me during those years I was more gone than here either but never gave in to them. The thing is James, your mother is a woman of strong passions James, even if outwardly she is mostly shy about it. She has ample needs... womanly needs... love and companionship... passion... and sex. They've always been of great importance to her. I tried my best to be that for her over the years, but it's getting harder for me now. And when I'm gone things are going to get that much worse. I can't shake the idea of some smooth talking huckster coming in trying to rip off a mourning widow and succeeding with Paula. I can't allow that to happen to her, James. We can't."
It was odd to hear Dad say that considering him and Mom had been practically inseparable since we learned the bad news; if anything their companionship levels were higher now than ever. Was he really talking about their sex life then? Mom never spoke to me about sex while I was growing up, and for a while I believed she was awkward herself about it, or maybe had a low sex drive... that sort of thing, but as I got older I slowly learned that, in fact, the exact opposite was true. She did her best, along with Dad, to keep that part of their relationship discreet, but with us all living in the same house... once I learned what sex was it was pretty hard for me not to know they were doing it as often as they were. Still, I was glad that their bedroom was far enough away from mine so I wouldn't have to listen to it even when I knew it was happening.
I had assumed years ago, that this was all Dad's doing; he had such a voracious appetite for life that it would only be fitting that his sexual needs would be the same, but little discoveries I made here and there eventually revealed that Mom was the one pushing their sex life to such higher limits. It said a lot about Dad that he could put in such long hours at work and still find the time and energy to keep a woman like that satisfied, but he'd managed to do so year after year. And now? The last thing I was thinking about since Dad became ill was how it was impacting his sex life. His energy levels had dropped off so much, so fast these last couple of months that it wouldn't surprise me if they'd stopped having sex altogether. It then suddenly occurred to me how much more restless, even irritable Mom had become in the last few weeks or so. I had naturally assumed it was because of what she was going through emotionally right now, but maybe there was more going on there as well. Was she really pissed off at not being able to get her rocks off these days? No, Mom would never be anything callous or insensitive like that, but if what Dad was trying to subtly say about her "ample needs" was true then it would make sense that she'd be feeling more than a little sexually frustrated.
"I still don't know what you want me to do," I asked, feeling disbelief that we were even having this conversation. "This sounds like something you and Mom need to work out by yourselves."
"Believe me, son, I've tried, enough that Paula has long grown sick and tired of the subject. I won't let it go though, not until I'm satisfied with the solution. I found a couple of men that I think would be really good for Paula, make good husbands for her after I'm gone, but she won't hear of it. She's adamant about not wanting to remarry, but I know her too well. She's not the type to stay alone forever, and once again I don't trust her to find the right man on her own."
"Well, you might have to, Dad. I mean, in the end, it's really up to her to decide what she wants to do," I said in resignation.
