My Mum and Dad told everybody that I was away at college. Not true. I was in prison for GBH. Sent down for six years, did a painful four. Past tense, because I am now out, trudging from the bus-stop, walking familiar streets. Carrying a plastic bag with my bits in. It is amazing the things you forget about a place when you are incarcerated for four years. The increase in road traffic was frightening. Prison had been a sanctuary, for fleeting seconds, I missed it. After a while, the bars and iron doors had become commonplace. Time is long and stands still. It is immutable.
The streets, they are dirtier, unkempt with grass and weeds growing through pavement cracks. Kids are dirtier too, snot running down over their chins onto already soiled clothing. One being shouted at for throwing a stone at a woman pushing a pram. When she went by, shaking her head, I saw the pram was full of washing, freshly ironed.
A kiddie ran up to me, clutching my sleeve with grubby talonlike fingers 'Got any fags, Mister?' 'Sorry, don't smoke.' 'Fuck you then! Stick it up your fat arse!'
The four year old sauntered off down the street as if he was Al Capone. Where I had just come from the Al Capones were many, more grown up. My ass was still sore.
First person who I knew was old Mrs Tenent, still with fat frumpy figure and still as ugly and still smelled as if she had pissed herself. She lived next door. My eyes as ever, were intrigued by the big black wart on her chin. It was even bigger than the last time I saw it. It was repulsive. Made more repulsive by the nest of long grey hairs around it.
'You are home then? Maybe you'll get some work and help your poor old Mom. Poor wee thing, she needs it, bless her.'
Wee thing! Last time I saw Mum, she was an inch taller than me and I am 5.9.
'Good-day, Mrs Tenant. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I will look after Mum for you.'
I passed her, cagily, and was surprised that my key still fitted the same old red, paint-peeling door. Number 13, unlucky for some.
It opened into Paradise!
I was pleasantly shocked by the decor. It was luxury to what it used to be before I went away. Gone were the dangerous loose curled up mats. Fell on my ass a few times because of them. The tatty oilcloth floor covering where countless pooches of old had used as a doggy loo.
Dogs! Never did manage to get them out when they wanted to go. It was my job for a few coins a week, as it was my job to get up the mess. I think it was one of the reasons no-one came into our house, that and the old man, of course. Nobody and I mean nobody farted like my old man!
Now it was wall to wall self-coloured russet carpetting which ran up the stairs, replacing the old red stair-runner. The bannisters were now white when they used to be chipped beat up brown paint.
My eyes travelling up the stairs alighted on a vision of loveliness.
'Mom? Is that you? '
She was wearing a pink negligee, silk, belted at the waist and as she ran down the stairs it became obvious she was wearing nothing else under it. A flash of her pussy revealed she didn't like pubic hair either. She was in my arms kissing me, my eyes, my nose, my lips and I was overcome with a need which sons are not supposed to get for their Mothers. Her hands clutching my head as if proving to herself that I was no mirage. Then she stepped back, looking me up and down. Lingering on the bulge behind the fly in my grubby, bag washed slacks.
'Larry, you have no idea how much I have missed you! I had no idea you were coming out, Darlng. Did they treat you badly? Have you eaten? Look at you! You are a man! My! How you have filled out! You must be starving for a good cooked meal? Mmmmm, and other things too, I feel. In a boy, out a beautiful man. Nice! It feels bigger! Hope you haven't forgotten how to make love to a woman?'
Then we were embracing again. The heat of her warm body was luxury to me. John Thomas was misbehaving and Mum was unashamedly rubbing her pussy against my fully grown and up-for-it appendage. I was forced to push her away from me. There was still an anger within me.
'You missed me that much that you did not come to see me once in four years, two months and twenty-three days, Mom!'
'I couldn't, Larry! Your Dad wouldn't let me. He kept ripping up the passes which were sent to us.'
'You could have at least written a miserable sodding letter!'
'Your Dad, you know I was frightened of him and you did beat him terribly. He almost died.'
'Should have killed, the effin Bastard! He deserved it for what he did to us. I spent four years of pain because of him. Where is he?'
'He left me, Darling. Just a year ago.'
I studied her, her she had not lost her looks. I was 18 and she was 37 when I went to prison. She was wearing well for 41. I fancied her then and still did now. The only difference this time I had no Dad to compete with and she would be up for it far more now.
I was walking through the downstairs rooms to find new furniture and fittings in everyroom, my Mum attached herself to me like a shadow.
'Where did you get the money to do this? Are you on the game?'
'No, Larry. Its your Grandad, he died and left me some money. Just nine months ago. He left you some too. I will take you to the Solicitor and you should have enough to start your life up again. I have not seen or heard from your Dad since he left. I do not know where he is, in Hell I hope.'
She sat down on the settee with complete disregard for her attire. Her legs and thighs exposed, they were still long and beautiful. Her eyes kept darting backwards and forwards from my face to the bulge in my trousers. The light blue moquette cushion under her hairless pussy was discolouring because the copious juices oozing out of her snatch . Her personal odour was invading my nostrils. I felt my balls contracting.
