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When I eventually decided to get up, I carried Mom to the bathroom with me. I decided that we both needed a shower to wash off the funk of our aggressive sex. I was feeling very affectionate toward her, more than I ever would have imagined.
The shy mother I grew up with had quickly become a fighter when she accidentally walked in on me masturbating. Through a series of circumstances beyond our control, I had ended up first spanking her into submission and then aggressively having sex with her.
Now Rita, as I was already thinking of her, had agreed to place herself completely under my control. I was beginning to understand what had led her to this place in her life where such things appeared normal to her. Abused, first by her father and then by mine, Rita was a woman just waiting for the first strong man to come along and scoop her up. She was a tasty morsel for any man's taking.
Only she had made herself look less tasty in order to hide that fact after my father had left ten years ago. Behind ugly hair and dumpy clothes, Rita withdrew from the world. She never went out or had fun. She was punishing herself for twenty plus years of being the whore other men had forced her to be. Now it was up to me to reeducate Rita and teach her to be the woman I knew she could become.
So, I began with a simple warm shower. The hot water stung Rita's sore ass. As I held her under the spray, I examined the cheeks of her bottom and her flanks that I had brutalized. She had been attacking me at the time too, biting and scratching as best she could, which wasn't much considering our size difference. But I had gone too far. I could see that now in examining her flesh and the bruises that would be there for a while. I was gratified to see that no permanent damage had been done, however.
Had I been thinking clearly at the time, I wouldn't have whipped her quite so hard. When she needed to be spanked again, I'd have to do so in a more controlled fashion.
And Rita would need it. We both completely understood that now. Rita needed discipline, and even beyond that, being controlled sexually excited her. When I had pulled her off of my lap, my denim jeans had been soaked.
I had found that controlling and disciplining Rita had excited me as well. I'd never be content with just going back to being her dutiful son.
I'd seen a movie once that said when a man saved someone's life, he became responsible for them. In a real sense, I knew I had changed, and probably saved, Rita's life today. She was my responsibility now.
Consciously accepting that duty, I began to wash Rita from head to toe. As we went along, I told her some of the things we would need to change.
Her short, unattractive hair was matted and stringy after our sweaty affair.
"You'll let your hair grow out again, Rita," I told her firmly, my voice brooking no quarrel or discussion.
"Yes, Robert," she sputtered as I held her head under the spray to wash out the shampoo.
Mother used to have such beautiful, long black hair. I had seen it in pictures. Sexual pictures that she had never wanted anyone to see.
"You'll start wearing makeup again," I decided as I washed her face. "Nothing too extreme. We'll go over it later. You can show me what you think and I'll decide if I like it."
I knew my own limitations. Makeup wasn't something that I knew a lot about.
As I washed Mom's chest and stomach and under her arms, I could see the ravages of middle age creeping up on her already. She was only thirty-five, but Rita hadn’t taken good care of herself lately. With no man to look after her or to look nice for, she’d put on extra pounds. Her sedentary job as a comptroller for a small retail firm wasn’t giving her much exercise either.
"I'll work out an exercise routine for you, Rita," I told mother. "I don't expect you to be a teenager, but we'll get rid of this loose skin under your arms and your soft belly. Not that you're not attractive. You are. But, I want you to start taking better care of your body. It's mine now, and I won't have you abusing it."
Mother nodded dutifully and smiled as I caressed her big breasts under the warm spray. She stuck out her chest and moaned attractively, causing my cock to stir.
That's when I pulled Rita into our first kiss. I had to lean down a bit as Mom was at least eight inches shorter than me. She rose up on her toes and craned her neck to reach me, though, as eager for the intimacy of the dance of our tongues as I was. I crushed her smaller body against my firm chest and she swooned in my arms. It was just as I had always imagined. A strong man with a big hard cock was all Mom had been waiting for.
Squatting down, I had Rita first turn toward me so I could wash her unkempt bush, and then away from me so I could wash her slightly sagging bottom. The exercise routine would take care of the latter. I'd have to decide how radical to be about the former.
"Have you ever shaved your pussy, Rita?" I asked her. "I mean really shaved it bare?"
"Yes, Robert," she replied, becoming suddenly tense at the question. "My father shaved me first. Then your daddy always insisted I keep it that way."
Her pubis and vagina were not unattractive, just as they were. The hair was black in color and silky in texture. It was still sparse enough that it I could see mother's pale flesh through it.
"We'll just trim it back for now. I think the dark color looks delicious, personally," I informed her.
Rita relaxed and opened her legs a bit more for my inspection. Her vulva was fleshy, the lips rising between her legs like dark, rippling hillocks.
As I began to wash the accumulated sperm and slime from off of Rita's inner thighs, I had her turn around to face the wall and bend over. Mother had wide set ass cheeks and the small, near-black ring of her anus was clearly visible. After scrubbing down Rita's thighs, which obviously were in need of the same exercise, I used the rougher washcloth to scrub the long, darkened furrow of her asscrack.
Rita submitted to this indignity without comment or complaint. The only sounds in the bathroom were the hiss of the spray and then my mother's delicately soft moans.
I used my finger, slick with soap to press inside the tight ring, committed to scrubbing mother thoroughly. The increased volume of Rita's moans informed me that such thoroughness was not unappreciated.
