I'd been home from college three days when I discovered Mom's secret. I wondered if she would have ever told me if I hadn't, and what calamity I had managed to avert, or trigger.
I woke at 3 am thirsty, rolled out of bed and padded down the stairs in pajama pants for a glass of water. Half way down I saw a light in the family room and slowed. When I reached the ground floor I stopped and looked in.
Mom was leaning forward over the glowing screen of her cranky seven year old laptop that took so long to load she mostly left it turned on. I stood without making a sound, just watching, wondering what could be so compelling to get her out of bed at this time of night. She was dressed in pajamas too, but in her case the top and pants matched, checked flannel that she'd had almost as long as the laptop.
I found myself staring too hard and too long and shifted. I must have made a noise because Mom shot up and spun around. She cried out, a hand to her mouth then she saw it was me. Who else it could've been I don't know. She had lived in the small house alone the last eighteen months ever since Dad passed. He had been twenty-five years her senior and went suddenly, his heart giving out on the golf course. Mom had been upset, and so had I, but time heals, as they say.
"Oh, it's you, Mark. What are you doing up?"
"I could say the same about you." I walked into the family room, leaned over to see around Mom, curious what I would see on the screen. For a brief moment I'd thought porn, but what I saw shocked me almost more than if it had been.
Mom shifted, trying to hide the screen but she knew she was caught and sat again. She said nothing as I came up behind her. I put my hands on her shoulders and leaned over.
Delicious Dates was the banner across the top.
Confidential dating service for the discerning customer, read the tagline underneath.
A tremor ran through Mom where my hands rested on her shoulders. A heat filled her body. It made me uncomfortable, but I thought if I let go she might wonder why I'd done so.
"It's OK, Mom. I understand."
She said nothing for a while. Her hand reached out and moved the mouse, but all she did was shift the cursor around on screen.
"Do you?" she said.
"Of course. It's been a while, I guess. You want to ... uh, need to..."
"Need to what, Mark?"
"You must get lonely," I said.
"Mm-hm."
She continued to sweep the cursor around on screen and then, as if coming to a decision, she closed the website. She tensed under my hands and I took it as a sign and let go as she rose. She was short, barely more than five feet in her bare feet like she was now, and I couldn't remember the last time she'd worn heels. Her hair was dirty blonde and cut shorter than the last time I'd been home.
She turned toward me, stood there with her hands clenched like she was fighting something inside. I glanced down, up, saw when my eyes met hers she'd known exactly where I'd been looking.
I almost hadn't come home, afraid of what I'd screw up.
I'd been thinking about Mom a lot. An awful lot. Not the kind of thoughts a son should be having about his Mom however hot she was and however lonely she might have become. However lonely she had been before Pop passed. She had been a golf widow a long time. She'd told me that one night when we'd sat together, her a little drunk, me trying to keep a check on myself.
Now, she knew I'd been checking out her legs and hips, her waist and breasts. All of them pretty much perfect.
I'd been with girls in college but none of them could match what stood in front of me in the family room of the house I still called home.
Mom lifted a hand and wiped at tears that had filled her eyes, angry.
"Hey," I said. Took a single step closer.
She shook her head. "It's OK, Mark, just Mom being stupid."
"Hey," I said again. I reached out, put my hands on her shoulders again, not sure what she might do. What she did was lean into the touch and I pulled her against my chest, aware I was naked to the waist. Also aware that when she pressed against me my cock began to thicken, but it was too late to let her go now because her arms went around my waist and she clung tight.
I kissed the top of her head, smelled her shampoo, and my cock grew a little harder.
I tried to lighten things with a laugh. "Did you find anyone on that site?"
She shook her head that was pressed against me, her cheek against my naked chest. I slipped my hands from her shoulders and circled her waist and she pressed tighter against me.
"Oh, Mark," she said, her lips moving against my skin.
"What's wrong, Mom?" I kissed the top of her head again.
She gave out a sigh so deep it might have come all the way from her toes. "Everything." She started to pull away from me but when I wouldn't let her it was like all her strength gave out and she clung to me. My erection pressed against her belly and she had to know how aroused I was. Had to know it was her that was the cause.
"Wanna tell me about it?"
"I don't think I can, honey."
