This is my longest story to date, written exclusively for Literotica. There's a lot of build-up in case anyone's hoping to knock out a one page wonder. I researched all over the internet on the subject of Genetic Sexual Attraction, but don't expect 100% realism.
This is a work of fantasy fiction and all characters are of the age and mind of consent. Enjoy!
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1
Marie Redgrave was nineteen years old when she gave birth to her one and only. Now thirty eight, she was as content as she believed she would ever be, alone and happy in the apartment she had called home for over a decade and with a job she actually enjoyed.
But for some, the definition of contentment bore little gravity over the reality. When a lifetime is spent overcoming terrible mistakes and personal tragedy, just the idea of coming out the other side to relative stability qualified.
Over the years she came to believe that the way things happened was for the best. It was eighteen years ago that she had escaped her abusive boyfriend. Her baby Robert, she instinctively felt, even while he was long for the outside world, was better off adopted. She had barely been able to protect him in the womb. That put all manner of insecurities on her mind, to become deep rooted so quickly.
Kenny had shown no desire to change as the baby bump grew. He still drank all day every day, by any means necessary such as their welfare, and had never any intention of working. He showed her no more affection than what already came from the back of his hand. She put him up for adoption and the rest was history; long, bitter, painful and drawn out.
She escaped some years later, realising what he had cost her, all that she had compromised just to remain on the leash of a failure who cared for nothing but where the next bottle of booze came from. She had wasted her youth on that bastard, and turned her back on the most important part of her life, and for what?
That train had long ago rolled out of town. Her bed was made. The only thing she could do was to move on and try to pick up the pieces and to put it all behind her. And with those pieces, life became about the little things and what she was happy to settle for.
So many years had gone by that she doubted she'd ever be able to find her way to Robert, let alone to somehow be a part of his life. It seemed unnatural to her, the way some people sauntered into their children's lives after so many years, expecting everything to work out.
It just didn't work the way some believed it should. She was very aware of the differences between ideal and reality. Maybe someday the boy would come looking, but her heart had grown not to expect it. There would be less disappointment with zero expectation.
So as she had done time and time again over the course of her life, she moved on and lived for herself...
2
It was a Saturday morning when, out of the blue, Marie was checking her emails and then her Facebook messages when she found a Rob Hanson in her inbox. At the time she thought nothing of it until she actually read it.
Marie was well proportioned and fit but with natural curves at 5'3" and 110lbs. Though her profile picture didn't hint so much at that, her dazzling blue eyed smile and long curly red hair drew plenty of attention from strangers.
The only reason she didn't delete before reading was that she found this Rob Hanson attractive enough to steal her attention. It had been a long time since anybody had caught her eye.
'Okay handsome Hanson,' she muttered apprehensively, 'what have you got to say for yourself?'
"Hi, sorry if this shocks you but I'm looking for my mum. I was adopted at birth and never knew her. You share the same name..."
Marie didn't know how to feel. After so many years of feeling there were no more surprises left to catch her off guard, she never truly believed this moment would happen. Even if she imagined the many different ways it would happen, and those first words spoken, there was no preparation for it.
For hours she couldn't reply. Her heart remained in her throat all morning. She was a nervous wreck. Her mind was neither here nor there.
'It is him, it is. It has to be. How many Roberts do you think were born to any old Marie Redgrave?' she debated with herself. Then she battled to keep a cool head, going back to the computer to finally respond to him.
I gave birth to a baby boy nineteen years ago and put him up for adoption. Can you tell me more about yourself? What hospital were you born in? What city?
The wait was maddening, her nerves shot. Marie waited and waited for a reply. Then to see that he had read her message and that he was in the process of sending his own reply, her heart fluttered, and her abdomen knotted up with anticipation.
When Marie's son found her that day, she didn't cry like she always thought she might have. It was just the second most surreal day of her life since giving birth to him, knowing that he wouldn't be hers but somebody else's son.
'That's that, then,' she said to herself in the deafening quiet of her apartment.
3
For months they spoke back and forth. They were as inseparable as relative strangers could be through the power of the internet. That's where she laid out her undying remorse for him, and her life story ever since.
'I don't want you to feel bad about it. I bet you'd have been a great mom but I understand. You just need to know that I've had a good life, he told her and then, don't let it pull you back, mum.'
"Don't let it pull you back..."
He was so mature for his age. Marie wished there and then that she had exercised more care and maturity at that age. Now what was she doing? She was trying to make up for lost youth by living like a widow. And Rob was right. She had let it pull her back her entire life.
And he had called her mum.
They had talked about Rob's adoptive parents a few times. Marie found it fascinating to know what kind of woman replaced her as his mother and couldn't help but feel something like jealousy.
She'd have been so proud for her baby to call her mom and for it to mean something. But she hadn't mothered him. She hadn't raised him. She couldn't claim that title any more than as a term of affection.
'You know, Robert,' she told him over the phone when they summoned up the courage to take their relationship to the next level, 'I think if you're going to keep calling me mum, you should probably come pay me a visit so I can at least earn the title.'
'Yeah that'd be great,' he said without hesitation and she could hear it in his voice that he wasn't just saying it to make her feel better.
'You could stay for the weekend, how about that?'
She couldn't wait. Rob couldn't either. The night before the long train journey cross country, he left a text message on her phone. Marie herself couldn't sleep, so it became a short conversation of sorts.
'I'm excited about tomorrow. I can't wait to take this beautiful lady in my arms,' he said and decorated the message in a series of X's and O's.
'This old girl,' Marie replied, 'is looking forward to that, and big fat kisses for you,' also festooned with symbols of affection.
'Big fat kisses for everyone LOL snog my face off by all means. I'm so happy I found you!'
She thought nothing of it. So you don't invite your mother to snog your face off, but Marie wasn't in that frame of mind. She hadn't actually been his mother since day one and she didn't see the harm. If Rob was as charming a gentleman in reality as he was online and over the phone, she could at least rest in the knowledge that the most regrettable decision of her life bore sweeter fruit than the past two decades.
Something was changing inside of her and she was fine with it. This young man who called her mum (she still called him baby) was too good to be hers and yet he wanted to be. They were more than blood, they spoke like old friends and yet they set the house on fire like the best of new...
Acquaintances-that was too formal.
Companions-that was too lived in.
Family didn't fit the bill, but there was a closeness she couldn't explain in words.
God, I do love him, she thought with a contented smile, and she told him so before bidding him goodnight. And as she rolled over in her bed, snuggling deep into the pillow with a pleasant sigh, one more message came through.
'Yes to snogs!'
Oddly she didn't see the harm in knowing, off the cuff, that she would willingly let him. She wanted him to, that beautiful boy.
4
Friday evening she was waiting for him outside the train station. At first her heart stopped. Her long lost love, the son that couldn't be, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the little lady's dazzling eyes and red hair, which appeared aflame with the late summer sun.
All six foot of him, with his shorn black hair and subtle five o'clock shadow, rugged and beautiful-even when she couldn't control her widening smile, Marie was frozen to the spot.
'Hey,' she said shyly as he approached on confident feet. Without stopping he picked her up and spun her around, planting a kiss just between the corner of her lips and her cheek. She yelped, laughing all the while and waited to be set down before getting a real eyeful of her long lost boy.
'You look beautiful.'
'Look who's talking,' he laughed. They gazed into each other's eyes for some time before Rob took the initiative further. 'So what do I call you, my mum away from mum?'
She chuckled, shrugged, didn't know what to think. She was acting more like a cheerleader than anything that a mother might resemble, other than considerably older. 'I don't know, if you like. But feel free to just call me Marie if it feels right.'
'Okay...'
'So here's the deal,' Marie said, showing him around the apartment. 'The couch is pretty decent for sleeping, but we can take turns, unless you're not uncomfortable sharing? I won't object. We'll probably end up talking all night anyway; all the catching up.'
She had shown him everything-bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room. It wasn't big but there was plenty of breathing space. All that Rob could really process, after just twenty minutes meeting his biological mother up close and personal, was how enchanted he was with her.
He couldn't help it. There was something about this woman. Marie was thirty eight now but she had a youth about her-be it her personality or her soul-that made them kindred. She could have been his babysitter when he was twelve, or his adoptive cousin, who wasn't even ten years older than he was.
'I'm okay with whatever,' he smiled.