Helen's divorce had hit her hard. The court papers had come in the mail and she now just sat in her room staring out the bay window. Her twenty year old son, Tim, asked if she was okay. All she had said was she would get by. At his age, it didn't sound very reassuring. To make matters worse, Helen's new ex, Allen, was supposed to stop by to gather up the things that the court decree granted him that he hadn't already taken from the house. Sometimes Tim thought he left some of this stuff behind just so he could had an excuse to come back one more time and hassle Helen. When things went sour between them, Allen had turned into a real bastard.
To a twenty year old, like Tim, it was crazy to ditch a woman who was as loving and giving as his mom was. Especially when she looks as good as Helen did. He guessed his dad didn't know what a good thing he'd had. Then again, they hadn't done their fighting in front of him, so he didn't know all the shit that went wrong.
Neither Helen nor Tim had felt much like having dinner, so they just sat, lost in their own thoughts, waiting for Allen to show up, get his stuff and clear out. Helen waited in her room and Tim stared out the living room window. As the sky darkened, he began to nod off.
He woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. Getting to his feet, he headed for the door. Helen came down just as he was getting to the door. Her eyes were red and her face had that puffy look that betrayed her crying in her room. She backed up to the bottom of the stairs and said, "Let him in, Tim."
Tim nodded and opened the door. His father stepped over the threshold, a smug look on his face. He smiled a greeting at his son, then turned to Helen. The smug look returned to his face.
Without preamble, she said "Allen, the rest of your belongings are stacked by the TV in the family room. If you think anything is missing, let me know and we'll get it for you."
She didn't want him searching through the house on his own. Tim was grateful that everything seemed to be there. Allen thanked her for her thoroughness and gathered up his belongings. Scowling, Tim opened the door for his father. Before exiting, Allen turned in the doorway, looking back at Helen. He just stood there and looked her over slowly. She shifted in place, uncomfortable under his appraisal.
He said, "If you had taken as great care of your body as you have of your career, this might not have happened."
With that, he turned on his heel and left. The smug look never left his face. Tim watched his father lug his things to the back of his car. In his car, there was a young woman peering up at the house. She was smiling as Allen approached the car and put his things in the trunk. She looked pretty, bathed in the soft light of street lights. He guessed that was what his father was after these days. Young and pretty. It sounded like a mid-life crisis.
Closing the door, heard his mother sobbing behind him. When he turned to look at her, she retreated back upstairs to her room. His father had been mean to her lots of times before, but this time it cut deep. He knew his mother was no twenty year old, but other than a slight fullness in her hips and tummy from having twins, she was trim and good looking. Hell! A couple of his friends said they would like a girl as pretty as her. He had to confess that he too had wondered what she looked like when she was twenty. Of course, he had seen pictures of her from her wedding and first couple years of marriage to his dad, so he knew what she had looked like. She was a knockout. And she was still pretty now. She was pretty enough to fantasize about. At five foot, five, and nicely curved, she filled out blouses and skirts in a highly appealing manner. Her dark brown hear framed a softly featured face and her brown, almond shaped eyes could easily pull you in, if she wanted them too. She was a beautiful woman.
So, to Tim, his father's remark seemed unfair and made no sense to him. He allowed that their years together may have dulled some of the excitement, but his mom was a loving and responsive woman. At least, as far as he could tell. She had always been an emotional person and had always been obliging of any request that he had ever heard asked of her.
Very confusing
On this night, Helen paid a high price in tears, fear, hurt and insecurity over the final blow to her feminine ego. It angered him to think that his dad would so deliberately insult the woman he had married and raised kids with. He remember him as a decent man when he was growing up.
But, on this night, his father had not been a good man and he hated him for it. Helen spent a couple more hours in her room before he thought she might need some food and took her a sandwich and iced tea. She looked back at him and smiled through what seemed to be the last few tears she had in her.
"Oh Tim. That's really sweet of you. Just put it on the desk for now."
"Are you going to be all right, Mom?" he asked.
She sniffled one more time, rising from the bay window seat and crossed to meet him at the desk. "It looks like I should be," she said. "It seems that there is still at least one man around here that thinks I'm worth some time and effort."
Hugging him, she said, "Thanks so much for caring, Tim."
"Well, you raised me this way!"
She leaned back, her hands still on his hips, and looked into his eyes. Then she asked the question stand-up comics say is a killer for relationships. Thank God he was only her son and not her lover or something.
"Tim? Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked. The slightest of smiles crossed her face as she read the blush on his. "Oh, Tim. That is so sweet. You just made my day!"
She hugged him close. Only this time, it was tighter and there was a sense of desperation in it, as though she was happy to believe that he found her attractive, but clinging to it as though not convinced.
Maybe it was that feeling of uncertainty, or just his own suppressed lust for her, but he felt the need to make her really know that he found her desirable. With a certain amount of fear, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her upper body back just enough to look squarely into her face, yet not force her to release the embrace she had clung to for these several minutes. He moved his hands slowly to her neck, bringing her face to his.
The first kiss he gave her, he placed on her still tear stained cheek. The second kiss was gently laid on the delicate ridge of her brow. At that moment, her body relaxed against his and the nerve to do more surged within him. The third kiss he gave to his suffering mother was a timid, incestuous kiss on the mouth.
"Oh, Tim...", she breathed into the kiss.
With only that encouragement and increasing lust in his veins, the kiss lengthened and deepened. He felt her lips part, inviting him to do so as well. When his lips parted, her tongue slowly began to explore his mouth. His hands slid to her shoulders and down her back. He pulled her to him, as the kiss fed their needs.
Tim was a typical horny male whose cravings were enhanced by the need to reassure his mother's mind and heart about her appearance, to let her know that she was still sexy. She was hurting from Allen's parting comment. She had also been without a lover for at least the eight months since Allen moved out and who knows how long before that. All the wrong buttons were being pushed and they both succumbed.
For her part, Helen molded her lean, mature body to his as if seeking to feel as much of him as she could. With no chance to satisfy the urge to feel her breasts in his hands, Tim dropped his hands further and squeezed the globes of his mother's buttocks.
"TIM!" she squealed, pressing more firmly into his groin.
The discomfort of his trapped cock made him squirm. This fired her desire even further. The kiss took on an urgency that would not be denied. He felt his face being crushed by hers. Helen's hands pushed between them, tearing open his shirt then reaching to unfasten his belt.
Tim's clothes were discarded like so much chafe. The entire time she spent undressing him, she kissed the parts of him that she uncovered. When she had finished stripping him, she stood, dropped her head just enough to pear into his eyes from under her brow. Her breath had quickened, her flesh reddened with passion. Without loosing eye contact she quickly removed her shoes, sweater, slacks and panties.
Holding him in her intense stare, in a voice he did not recognize as his mother's, she challenged, "Do you still think I am pretty?"
The question was no longer a simple question. Now it was a challenge to see if she deserved the meager praise he had given her. He did not trust words to be the answer she sought.
On the surface, her question seemed silly. At thirty-nine years of age, she was still trim with wide inviting hips, breasts that were full and round, and long, dark brown hair that shone in the dimmest light. She had, now and then, complained of the extra weight she carried after having twins and the sag in her breasts.
To Tim, the funny thing was, these things made her look sexier. He had never told her that, but he was about to. The extra weight she complained of was no more than a teasing softness in her stomach. And the sag of her breasts was slight and did no more than give them an appearance of greater fullness. For him, all her imagined shortcomings were delicious enhancements.
So in answer to her question, he stepped close to her, cupped those supposedly sagging breasts in his warm hands and gently squeezed. Her eyes closed as a moan escaped her lips. Bending down to her left breast, he licked the nipple lightly.
"Oh, that feels so good, Tim!" she whispered through trembling lips.
Straightening, he spun her around and pushed her onto the desk. Leaning back on her arms, she stretched out before him like a sculpture to be patiently examined. His hands return to her chest, lightly grazing her engorged nipples. Her eyes bore into him, urging him to continue. Smoothing his hands down her sides, following the flair of her luscious hips, he brought his hands to rest on the tops of her thighs. He leaned on her thighs, pushing her legs apart. There was no need for force. She adjusted her feet to accommodate her new position. Sitting back on his heels, Tim let his hands roam over the gentle swell of her belly that so bothered her, but so enticed him. Leaning forward, he hugged her hips to him, kissing her belly, tonguing her navel and licking wet trails over the slight roundness of her lower abdomen. Her arms remained a prop behind her, but she lost strength in her elbows and sank back more toward a prone position.
"Oh yes! Go on!" she implored.
She trembled more as his mouth made unpracticed love to her lower body. At length, his tongue made its way to her thighs, then to where her thighs met. Her scent was heavenly. The heat he felt on his face from her felt like an invitation to sex before a fireplace. Pushing her legs further apart, he buried his tongue in her.
