This is a short little flight of fancy that was fun to write. All the characters are, and always have been, over eighteen. This story is purely a product of my own imagination. Although I currently don't have any plans for a continuation, any future installments will largely depend on reader comments. I look forward to any constructive critiques and would appreciate it if you would please vote. Cheers!
*****
I thought it would be nice to visit my mother. She lived alone and since I lived so far away, I just hadn't seen her as often as I should have. Mom and I had always been very close. She became pregnant with me at a very young age, and while I was growing up she was often mistaken for my older sister. Mom and I, were lucky to have received a lot of support from her family, so we were never wanting. When mom did marry, she married well, although her husband, my stepdad, died at an early age. After college, I had been very successful in the world of finance and was fortunate enough to be able to retire while I was still relatively young. Since I now had plenty of time on my hands, I decided I would take off for an entire month and have a nice, long, leisurely visit with my mom.
For an"old fogie" as she referred to herself, Mom was in great form. For a woman in her early sixties, she had retained much of her former figure and was incredibly active. She routinely walked, practiced yoga, and was an avid gardener. While visiting, I participated with her in all her activities, but it was obvious she was taking it easy on me.
We spent most evenings quietly watching television. I also used that time to work on my writing.
"What's got you so engrossed over there? Every night you're just typing away on that tablet of yours." She asked.
"I've been trying my hand at writing short stories and I'm trying to do a little writing every day."
"What kind of stories? What are they about? What do you do with them? Are you published? Are you putting them into a book?"
"Geez, Mom! I started out writing just for fun, but then happened upon an online site where I can post them."
"Well, what kind of stories do you write? Can I read them? Where online?"
"Mom, like I said, I've been writing these stories primarily for me and I don't think you'd like them, or even approve."
"Oh for crying out loud, why wouldn't I approve? What could be so bad about them? Are you that bad of a writer?"
"No Mom, it's not that, it's just that the subject matter is shall we say...off color."
"Off color?!? What does that mean? Are these stories X-rated or something?"
"Well, yeah, I think you might think of them that way. My stories are sexually graphic and I'm not sure how comfortable I am having my own mother read them."
"Oh pshaw! Look at me! I may be old enough to be your mother, but I'm still young enough to enjoy life! There isn't much you can write about that I haven't been exposed to during my lifetime! Now I really want to read them! Where are these stories posted?"
"Oh Mom, please! NO! Let's just give it a rest! Okay!?!"
"NO! What do you mean - NO? Now you've really peaked my curiosity and I won't stop bugging you until you let me read them. I just want to see what kind of warped mind I've created in you."
"Mom, It's just too embarrassing. It just feels too weird!" I pleaded.
"There's no need for you to be embarrassed." She replied.
Needless to say, I didn't relinquish, but Mom hounded me for the rest of the evening and the entire next day. Finally, the next evening I gave in. I gave her the link to the website and showed her how to navigate to my account and stories.
"Which one should I start with?" She asked.
"It doesn't really matter. But please just remember, all these stories are total fabrications. They're just the product of my own fantasies sprinkled in with some of my own life experiences. I guess that's what makes your reading this so embarrassing."
"Don't be embarrassed and don't worry. Everyone has fantasies, you just wrote some of yours down. I think this will be fun."
The next morning I was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee when Mom came in wearing her robe. I was a little surprised as she was always up early and dressed.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yes, just tired. I was up late reading most of those stories of yours."
"Oh, I see."
"You have quite the imagination."
"Yeah, I guess. Are you disappointed?"
"Disappointed? No, why would I be disappointed."
"Well, to start with, reading all those racy stories that are the product of your son's warped mind."
"Well, I thought your stories were imaginative and erotic. There were several things I might have tweaked or approached differently, but all in all, I was impressed. I don't know that the genre would have been my first choice but I'm glad I had an opportunity to read your work. If you'd like I'd be happy to sit down and give you my take on your writing."
"Sure! That would be great! Maybe it would be just like when you use to help me with my homework."
"Hopefully this won't be so arduous." Mom said.
We spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon discussing how I might improve my writing. Mom offered some really meaningful ideas and I was surprised to see how frank she was when she spoke to me about intimacy and finer points of sex from her perspective. Then she hit me with a bombshell!
"How about we write a story together?" Mom asked.
I just stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me, let's write a story together! I can't remember when I even really thought about sex, it would be fun!"
"Writing porn with my mother! Now that's got to be a first, but sure, why not!"
Since I was in the midst of writing a story, we thought we could use that as our spring board project. Mom asked me about my motivation for the story and how I envisioned it proceeding. She read through my draft and then re-wrote and edited it. The next day I read her re-writes and then we discussed it some more. Mom had her own vision about the story and I was happy to let her go with it. As our process evolved, we got to the point where Mom had taken charge and was basically writing the story, we would discuss what she had done, and then she would write some more. I was amazed at how she was really getting into it, but even more impressed with how knowledgeable my mother was about all the intense and kinky sex she was describing in the story.
"Mom, you really seem to have a knack for this stuff, but I gotta ask, where is all this fervent sex coming from? I mean geez, you've got the characters in this story doing stuff that is incredible!"
"Well you said you just take your own fantasies and past experiences and build on them. That's all I'm doing. Am I doing it wrong?"
"No! What you've written is terrific. In fact, I'm having a hard time reading this stuff without becoming aroused."
"Well good! Isn't it suppose to have that effect? I must admit, while I'm writing and when we have these intimate discussions and talk about all this nasty stuff, I too get feelings...feelings I haven't felt in ages."
