I loved my Mom.
I mean, I really loved my Mom.
Since a couple of months after my Father passed away, I have been the man of the family. I could see the frustration and tension in her face as she worked tirelessly to ease the pain of her loss. One night, I saw her crying and went to her. I placed my hands on her shoulders and began rubbing her shoulders and neck. She turned around, placed her hands on mine and lowered them to her breasts. The look of amazement and shock must have surprised her. She moved forward and moved her left arm around my neck as she used her right arm to reach down and grab at my growing groin. As she held my neck in her hand, she pulled my face to hers and buried her tongue in my mouth. That was how it all began.
Now she is gone also. I reach down into her casket and stroke her face. Her face is cold and unresponsive. Her desires are at rest now. My hand touches her lips. The lips that I once kissed are like stone. My hand wanders lower and I brush her right nipple. No movements, no catching of her breath. My hand lowers to her pubic mound. I fondle her through her death garment. These lips are unresponsive also. A tear breaks through and falls down my cheek.
"What are you doing?" I hear behind me as I am jerked back to reality. Turning around, Aunt Jane is standing in the door. Her hands are on her hips as she stares at me, almost through me.
"I...I was just remembering Mom." I stammered unsure of what to say or expect. Embarrassed, I walk past her and out of the funeral home. I get in my car and breathe a big sigh, both at what I just experienced and the end of my loving relationship with Mom.
I get home and collapse in the recliner. Family is all around talking about anything that they can think of and anything they can get someone to listen to. It all seems so distant as I fall back into my memories of Mom. If she were here right now, we would sneak off into the back bedroom and.....
"Well, I see you made it back alright." Aunt Jane says as she enters the room returning from the funeral home.
"Yeah, I made it back but I don't think I'm going to be alright." I told her matter of factly. I didn't know how much she saw when I was touching Mom and, if she did, whom would she tell.
"Come here." she said holding out her hands as if she wanted to hug me.
I got up and went to her. I reached out my arms also. We locked into a hug that felt good. Right now I needed a woman's touch. I needed to feel warmth. In her arms I found the comfort that I knew from Mom. I was amazed that Aunt Jane could permeate this same warmth, as she did not have children. She was eight years younger than Mom and got caught up in building a career for herself. I knew that she and Mom talked and visited often which I didn't mind because she was a very attractive woman.
"Don't worry baby. I can be your Mom now." she whispered in my ear.
Unsure of what that meant, I flinched a little but she tightened her grasp on me a little as if to assure me that she would not let me go. I grabbed her a little tighter also while I realized the sensations of her voluptuous body so close to mine. Aunt Jane's breasts were pressing into my chest and her arms were around my shoulders rubbing my back. I moved my hand up her back and felt her bra clasps. I moved my hand down to her waist and felt the curves of her womanly figure. My manhood began to swell in my pants as a result of this closeness. Aunt Jane felt the throbbing in my pants press against her. She reached down and placed a hand at the small of my back. Pulling me even closer, my tool ground into her pelvis.
"Don't worry baby,. I can be your Mom now." she repeated almost silently in my ear.
"I, um, I don't understand" I stammered.
"She told me all about your relationship. In fact, I encouraged her to enjoy herself given the fact that she had such a fine young man at her disposal. She loved you." she reassured me.
