Mother to the rescue
Mom had to for only Mom possibly could
"Mom," said my son.
"Yes Don."
"Why so early?" He bent down to smell the amber coloured contents of the mug I was holding. "It is hardly ten in the morning?"
"I am lonely."
"Lonely? That is why I have come back to be with you."
"Thanks for coming Don. But I was feeling lost these two years, and even before for that matter"
"Depressed?"
"You can call it that."
"My coming, has it made no difference?"
"It has of course. Give me time, I'll get over the habit."
*
My husband left us fifteen years ago. Don was in elementary school at that time. When I married Mathews I was eighteen and he was thirty-two. Don arrived within a year. The age difference between us was too large; we did not develop a relationship. Don was three years old when I came to know that my husband had an older woman for friend. There was not a single day we did not quarrel. One evening he announced that he was leaving. He packed his bags and left. He never returned. I continued my job, and as I owned the house we were living in I was able to manage quite comfortably on my income. A couple of years after my husband had left a colleague of mine, a divorcee, came to live with me. After three years we found the going not good and he left. Don and I were alone for five happy years, and then another friend of mine moved in. Don did not like either of the 'uncles' though they tried to be pleasing to him. As soon as he graduated he got a job in Finland and left. He was just eighteen then.
Don and I kept in touch through emails. Three years later one day he sent mail to say that he was getting married. He was just twenty-one years old. I advised him that he was too young for marriage, but when he persisted I was supportive. Within six months his marriage was annulled. Don, who would have felt lonely after his failed marriage, must have wished to be back home. There was nothing to keep him away for my friend had left a couple of years earlier. He wrote to say that he has taken a job in our town and was coming to live with me.
I was seeing Don after four years. When he entered for a moment I did not recognise him. He had grown tall and was very handsome with his curly hair and sparkling eyes. When we hugged I felt a thrill pass through my body almost as if I was in the arms of a lover. Even at that moment of reunion I was chiding myself for harbouring sinful feelings towards my son. This feeling did not subside; instead it grew in intensity in the next few days. I wondered if I was stricken.
It was thrilling to be with him. He was very loving to me and we were all the time touching each other. I was very happy, but anxious too for often I found that I was sexually excited. Four years is long period and we had a lot to talk about. But he never spoke of his short married life. At times he would lie staring at the ceiling, sad and thoughtful, as if he was carrying a burden that was too much for him to bear. My heart went out to him. I instinctively felt that it had something to do with his marriage. I waited for him to broach the topic.
*
"You are just forty-one Mom," continued Don, "you should marry again."
"I have not been lucky with men Don," I said.
"You seem to have withdrawn within yourself, why? You used to be so outgoing and fun loving. You have become almost like a nun."
"Repeated failures can do that Don. If you had a family it would have been OK with me, but you have not."
"You can't blame me Mom. I married at a tender age of 21, but it did not work out."
"It is almost a year since you split with Linda. I ask you the question you asked me. Why not get another. You are young, you have good job, and you are handsome."
"Do you know why my marriage was annulled?"
"It was not consummated you told me."
"Right, but why?"
"You never told me."
"You never asked."
"Now I ask."
"As per court records I am impotent. I never penetrated. Linda left me as she came—a virgin."
"You should get medical help. Why don't you?"
"Because I do not consider myself impotent."
"Why then did you not deflower Linda? You have to explain."
"Linda was a good girl. That was the problem. Good in the most prudish sense of the term. She was frigid. Absolutely. She allowed me to kiss that was about all. No fondling and no sex. When I became desperate she allowed me, but not before she converted the bedroom into a photographer's dark room. She held her thighs together tight; with difficulty and in the face of determined resistance I parted her thighs. By the time I got her into some sort of position my cock softened. I do not know how rapists do it but I could not. Twice it happened and then by mutual consent we agreed to an annulment."
"What has that got to with your getting another spouse?"
"When rapists can do against resistance why could not I was the question I often ask myself. Is there anything wrong with me? I fear that my cock could let me down again. I have to clear that doubt first before proceeding further. That's why."
"Clear that doubt. That's not difficult."
"Mom, you do not understand men. Get a woman, tell her that I am using her as a test case, and then dangle my soft cock before her? Unthinkable. I'll die rather than subject myself to that sort of humiliation. This is working on me all the time. It is making me miserable. I need the contents of that mug more than you do." He took the mug from my hand and emptied its contents. I did not protest. I kept watching as he drank the lot. I sat deep in thought. Then quite calmly I got up and closed the liquor cupboard and turned the key.
"That cupboard will remain locked till we get out of the mire we are now in. Nothing more than sips of red wine during meals," I declared. "Are you with me?"
"I am Mom, but I see no way."
"I don't either, but we are not going to sit at home moping on a Saturday morning. That would be accepting defeat. We are going to the beach for a bit of swimming and maybe some beach volleyball. We will get ourselves into a better mood; then things may happen. No, it will happen. Coming?"
"Sure Mom."
*
I went for a bath and it was while I was wiping and powdering in front of the mirror that I got this horrible idea. 'Why not me?' I asked myself 'He would be safe from humiliation if it is Mom that he uses as a test subject.' I shuddered and was excited at the same time at the enormity of my thought. Mother offering herself to son? Can anything be more shameful? But he needs help and what else are mothers for if they do not do their outmost for their children? Can there be any limit to mother's love? Assuredly not. I knew I was rationalising, but it eased my anxieties. I examined myself critically. Was I a worthy sex object for a youth as attractive as my son? At forty-one I did look quite presentable. Short (five three), lithe of body (hundred pounds), ample breasts for one so slim, nice firm protuberant rear, and when I did my hair in a ponytail quite girlish in appearance. My breasts sagged true, but I thought they added to their beauty. Yes, Don may find me attractive. But certainly I cannot ask him to try me out. It could well be the last straw. He might never recover from such blow. No, I must make him think of me as a sex object before I can offer myself. It must evolve. The beach is the perfect place for that.
The beach was crowded as one expects on a glorious Saturday afternoon. We sauntered forth to the volleyball courts. There was no possibility of a game that afternoon for the waiting lines were long. We came to the water edge and entered the screened off cubicles to change.
When I emerged Don greeted me with a "Wow." It was the bikini I had chosen for the occasion that was making the hit. It was my favourite when I was eighteen, the time of my marriage. I was leaner then and it was now a tight fit. The lower piece was so low that I had to shave my convex mound smooth to wear it. It was tantalisingly perfect for it appeared that at any moment the clitoral hood might peep out. My breasts were globular and smooth like glass. They were like ripe fruits ready for plucking though I could not name the fruit.
I was pleased to hear Don's 'wow'. I raised my hands behind my neck and pushed my pelvis forward. I expected Don to 'wow' again and he did. We took a walk up and down the crowded beach hand in hand.
"Men are looking at you appreciatively Mom," Don said. I could see that too. We stood knee deep in the water and splashed about for a while. They we sat on the sand watching the frolickers. From the corner of my eye I could see Don darting cautious admiring glances at me. He had a hard-on that he was trying to hide between his thighs. His act of pushing his cock between his thighs was funny, but it had a significant effect one me. When I saw him excited the guilty feeling I had for trying to seduce my son evaporated. I felt I had to do it for his sake and mine. I leaned back to admire him. He was tall and well built like his father. The muscles that he developed with the dumb bells and other instruments stood out gloriously. I could feel wetness in my pussy.
Meanwhile Don was looking at me from the corner of his eyes, and whenever I turned my head his way his eyes would move away. I leaned back resting on my elbows, and flexed one hip and spread out my thighs so that he can feast his eyes on me. I waited and caught him red handed.
He was suddenly aware that I was looking at him. He smiled sheepishly and turned way. I had no intention of letting him off.
"It is not bad to admire your Mom," I said. "If you are feeling guilty that your thoughts are not pure be assured that Freud has said that there is a strong under current of sex in all love, mother and son, father and daughter, sister and brother. Feast your eyes on me." He squirmed uncomfortably. "No Don, that's not the way. Look at my breasts. You like them? Tell me if they look as good as what you see around here. Tell me." I went up to him and thrust forward my breasts. I bent down to let me see into the valley. I pulled forwards the top to show him my tits. "You are not a stranger to these," I said. By now Don had recovered his aplomb to some extent.
"The best on view," he said reverentially.
"My thighs, what is your comment on them," I asked. I spread my thighs.
"Good Mom, very good." He was getting very uncomfortable. "Mom shall we swim?"
"OK," I said and stretched out my hand and he pulled me up.
