A Mom's Story Ch. 02

"What the fuck..." Brad said, and I saw Robbie in his bathrobe, throwing Brad on his back. He came over to me. "Mom, are you OK?"

I saw Brad get up, his face contorted in rage. "Robbie!" I screamed.

Brad dragged him away from me, pulling the robe down from his shoulders so his arms were trapped. He turned him around and punched him hard in the stomach. The blow doubled him over only to meet Brad's knee on the way up, hitting him on his jaw.

"Motherfucking piece of shit!" he snarled.

"Robbie! Robbie!" I was screaming.

Robbie, still dazed from the knee, took the full force of Brad's next blow to his jaw, sending him across the room to the floor. Brad turned back to me. I hadn't had time to do anything, anything.

"Hey, sonny boy, I want you to watch this," he said. "I want you to watch your mother getting fucked." He laughed once, a short, mirthless laugh. "And don't get up, shithead, or I'll hurt you, bad."

Brad sank to the carpet, moving over me, again with one leg across mine. He was stroking his cock, keeping it hard. I cringed, wanting to shrink to nothing. "Brad, please don't..."

"Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted..." He was so drunk, looking at me, a stupid smile on his wretched face. He had forgotten all about Robbie. "Oh yeah...I was about to fuck you..."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Robbie get up. He shook off the robe and in one leap grabbed Brad by the shirt again, pulling him away from me, throwing him back down on the rug.

"You OK, Mom?" Again he was bending over me. I nodded to him. I thought I was OK but I was too terrified to speak.

Brad got quickly to his feet. "So you want some more, do you, Robbie boy? I'm going to hurt you this time."

Robbie turned to face him. Brad swung again but his momentum made him stagger. Robbie easily side-stepped him and hit him on his way by, a glancing blow.

Brad looked shocked. Another person, a real other person, had actually struck him. He was glaring at Robbie, rubbing his jaw, standing there in his socks, in his jacket, opened shirt and loosened tie, his now soft cock hanging down. Then a groan of rage came out of his core as he lurched toward Robbie, fists flailing, hitting him again.

This time Robbie partially blocked his punch and took the blow without falling or staggering. He looked calm, focused on Brad. Brad was now gathering himself for another charge but Robbie hit him once, twice, like a jab but harder, on his jaw and nose. I could see a trickle of blood start out of Brad's nose. He licked at it, felt it with his fingers, saw the blood on them, a puzzled expression, a "what's this?" on his face.

The sight enraged him even more and he lunged at Robbie, but he side-stepped him again. Brad whirled and swung as hard as he could but Robbie ducked out of the way and then, from almost his feet, I saw his fist coming up in a smooth accelerating arc that hit Brad with full force flush on his jaw, a blow that sent him sprawling to the floor. The sound was sickening, as if bones might have been broken. Brad made an effort to get up, then faltered and fell back.

"Get dressed and get out!" Robbie stood a few feet away, watching him, his fists clenched and ready. Brad got to his feet unsteadily, grabbed his pants and put them on. It took his concentration to get his foot in each pant leg. He almost fell. He was now bleeding from his nose and his mouth. Then he got into his shoes, grabbed his underwear and started for the door.

"Never come back!" Robbie said. "Ever!"

Brad left without a word, slamming the door behind him.

Robbie turned to me, the echo of the slamming door still in my ears. Again I beheld him in his striking nudity. His cock, which had receded during the fight, now began to fill again, like a flower in spring, I thought, ridiculously, but the image was there anyway. One of those time-lapse things where you see it grow.

He knelt down beside me. "You OK, mom?" His voice was quiet, tender. He grabbed a small cushion off the couch for my head.. "What about your face, your jaw. It looks like he was hitting you..."

"I'm OK, I think. Nothing hurts. Teeth are OK...." My heart was still pounding. "You were magnificent. I was so frightened. You saved me. Are you alright? He hit you so hard..."

I lay back, still in shock. Robbie moved off to the kitchen and I heard water running. Then he came back with two dish towels, one wet, one dry. He knelt beside me, carefully dabbing the towel wet with warm water on my mouth, my cheeks, my breasts, then patting them dry with the other.

"I'm fine. Didn't hurt. I was surprised. Would you like a drink? Some whiskey or something?"

"Yes, whiskey sounds good. Shall I get it?"

"No stay there. Relax. Let me. I'll be right back."

He got up and went back into the kitchen. This time I was recovered enough to see him clearly. He was stunning to look at, his body with his well muscled back and legs and buttocks walking so gracefully and easily, floating and sure, like an athlete, into the kitchen. He came back with two tumblers both almost half full. He set the glasses down, then lay down next to me, a series of movements done like they were part of a dance. He handed me a glass and I sipped.

He picked up the towel again, dabbing at the scratches on my breasts. "How could a guy hurt someone like you?" he asked. "Jesus, he's stupid."

"Is your hand OK?"

He dropped the towel and opened and closed it quickly a couple of times in front of my eyes, watching it. "Seems fine. Doesn't hurt." He picked the towel back up and dabbed again at my at my cheeks, mouth and my breasts.

He looked up at my face, scanning it. "You're not bleeding anymore. Do you hurt anywhere else? You know..." His hand went down to my mound, cupping it.

"OK, I think." I put my hand over his. "It's OK. It doesn't hurt." I smiled up at him. "He didn't...you know...I feel fine...I was terrified he would but he didn't..."

He took his hand away to pick up his glass. He took a sip , then offered me some. He held it to my lips and I sipped.

"He didn't hurt you..." he said. I heard the relief in his voice.

"No, it's fine...I got rid of him--I mean, you did--not the way I wanted to but he's gone and I'm fine...I'm still so frightened, honey. Can you just hold me for a little?"

"Yes, sure." He set the glass down and pulled me to him, his arms around me, holding me close. We stayed that way, our bodies pressed together, for a minute or so. I could feel his cock, reassuringly hot and hard against me. I was thrilled that it was.

"You're sure you're OK, mom?"

"Yes I'm fine. I can't tell you what a relief this is...what an experience...I was terrified...."

He pulled me even closer to him, his arms around me, holding me. "Relax, mom, relax..." He held me for a few minutes, rocking me with him, back and forth. His body felt so wonderful against mine. My tension had drained away almost completely, replaced, to my joy, by desire. He moved back, looking at me, wanting to be reassured himself, it seemed. "You look OK and you sure feel good..."

I thought, now is the time to say it. "I'm fine. I feel so much better...I'm so happy we're together like this...everything's OK...I mean we can...if you want to...I guess, I mean I hope, we're going to, aren't we..."

"I want to," he said. "How do you feel about it?"

"Excited."

"Me too." He moved in closer beside me, offering me my tumbler again, lifting my head and bringing the glass to my lips. "Sip." I did, taking a bigger one this time, feeling the liquid slide down my throat, coating my stomach, the warmth spreading over me like a wave of new heat in a cool room. The liquor was working. I felt safe again. He took a drink himself, then settled down beside me, his hand on my belly, stroking it.

"I'm not acting on impulse here," he said. He had a shy smile on his face. "Not like last time. I think I'm going to need your help. How do I go about this?"

"Well, let's see." I pushed the cushion out of the way and faced him. I took the tumbler again and took another long sip. I set it down. "We seem to be drinking a lot," I said.

"Just sips," he answered.

I was looking at him, happy, eager to be with this beautiful young man. Brad had disappeared from my mind completely. "I could try to stimulate you, stroke your lovely cock." I ran my fingertips over it. "But he looks all fueled and ready to go...fat and sassy...I suppose you should kiss me. I mean, that is what a gentleman usually does."

Robbie kissed me, pulling me to him, his cockhead nestling in my pussy hair. He was rubbing my back and bottom and I was doing the same to him.

"Mmmm that's lovely, baby." I was pushing my breasts against his chest, rubbing them back and forth. "Do they feel good? Why don't you touch them..."

He kissed me again, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I met his with mine, probing, wet flesh gliding over probing, wet flesh. He cupped my breasts.

"So soft, mom, they feel so soft."

"Pinch the nipples a little. I like that. Pull on them..."

He did, shifting his body even closer to me, then moved me onto my back, his body over mine.

"We're going to fuck, we're going to love each other, Robbie. You and me." I opened my legs for him, adjusted my hips, moved my knees up so I could push up to meet him. "My body is all yours, honey, to take and enjoy."

"I can't believe this. I want this so bad and here it is."

"It's happening, Robbie, I want it, too..."

His cock was just over my opening. He pushed, but he was a little too high. I reached down to hold it with my fingertips, just below the head, and moved it down. "Yes, right there, Robbie...push in, baby..."

He did. I felt his head by my lips, pushing in and I came, suddenly, intensely. "Oooh! I said, as he was sliding into my welcoming body, slow and steady and then when he was all the way in I came again, another "Oooh!," a longer orgasm like I had never experienced in quite the same way, and then he started stroking me, in and out.

"This is incredible..."

"Yes isn't it." My breathing was ragged.

"Anything's OK?"

"Anything's OK."

"I can't describe the feelings..."

"Just revel in them...love them...let them take you over," I said, my voice in a rush. He settled into a steady stroking, then began to speed up. "Take your pleasure, Robbie, don't hold back. Let go..."

His body took over and he was being carried along, riding us both up and up and up until I could hear his groans and feel his hot fluid spurting into me, his body jerking, heaving against me, pulsing, his expression a mixture of pleasure and amazement as he thrust and thrust into me, and I came for a third time. He collapsed down on me, his weight not fully on me. He was still breathing hard, his arms around my neck and back.

"I never thought anything could feel so good...."

I was rubbing the back of his head, holding it against my neck. I whispered in his ear, "That's why it's so popular..."

He laughed, lifting his head to look at me and kissed me. "I want to do this all night long."

"Yes, we can do that. You can have me any time you want. Stay inside me, honey. It feels so good. You don't want to get up, do you?"

"No, I'm fine." He was calmer now and breathing easier.

I moved my hands to his head, lifting it, looking up in his eyes. "I forgot to ask. Why were you home so early? I thought the game would last longer."

"We were hanging out at Ken's house. I didn't feel like watching baseball. I was bored and thinking of you, wondering what the heck I was doing there so I came home." He was supporting himself on his elbows, his fingertips on my face, around my ears, in my hair. "I didn't hear you come in. I was in my room. I had my Ipod on. Had the music turned up. I went into the bathroom to take a shower. I took it off and was about to get in when I heard you yell my name. Scared the hell out of me. I knew it was Brad. I grabbed the robe and came down."

"I would have been raped."

"No one's going to rape you while I'm around," he said.

I could feel him growing hard again.

"I'm still hungry for you, baby."

"I can't believe this, mom."

"Fuck me, Robbie. Fuck me good."

He began moving inside me again, ripples of pleasure flooding through me at each stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He was kissing me, feeling my breasts.

"Keep stroking me, honey. Your cock feels like heaven..." I reached down to his bottom, pulling him even closer to me.

"You're holding me so tight. I had no idea it would feel this good..."

"I wish you could feel what I feel. You've already made me cum three times..."

"I have?"

"Yes didn't you hear me? Feel me shudder?"

"Yes."

"You were making me cum."

"Makes me feel good to know that."

"You are my lover now."

"I don't want another woman, mom. Just you."

"Fuck me harder, baby. Make me cum again. I want to feel you cum too. Do it to me, Robbie!"

He was fucking me in long steady strokes. I moved with him and sped up as he did, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts. He did that for several minutes, then he began to move even faster and I knew we were on our way up the pleasure stair to heaven once again, moving faster and faster until he exploded in me with his loud groans and flexing body, twitching and jerking as he plunged himself as deeply in me as he could. I reached my orgasm almost with him, moaning myself, my face buried in his neck, his cock still caressing me, and we stayed like that as we both ebbed, just gradually relaxing for a minute or so. Then he rolled off me onto his back, his arm over his eyes, his cock, still wet from my body, limp against his thigh.

I turned on my side, facing him, watching him for a few seconds. "You look wonderful, Robbie, like a young god," I said.

He had moved his arm and was watching me watching him. He was not quite serious, not quite smiling. "I'd take you over Venus any day. You're prettier, you have a better figure"...he smiled at me... "and you have both arms...I wish I was a painter."

I ran my hand up and down his stomach and down to hold his cock. "I want to put this in my mouth."

"Really? You would?"

"Yes, I'd love to." I was stroking it, my hand holding it, not tight, just an easy stroking. "I want to pleasure you in lots of different ways."

He turned to me and put his hand on my mound, cupping it. "I want to put my mouth down there."

"Really? You would?"

He smiled. "Yes. I'm told I have a talented mouth and tongue."

I moved closer to him. "I knew it! OK. Who was she? One of your teachers in high school, wasn't it?" I was genuinely curious. I wanted to know. "Which one? That Rita Williams, your pretty English teacher...wasn't it...always giving you A's...and those notes on your papers...Or maybe one of your girlfriends? I knew it when you put your tongue in my ear. Who taught you that stuff?"

He was looking at me, amused. "Well, maybe I'll tell you. Maybe I won't." He stopped and looked down at his fingertips that were tracing a pattern on my stomach, then up at me again. "Actually, there haven't been any others. This was my first time. You are my first." He looked at me. "I don't know what to say. I'm such a different guy now from when dad was around. These last few years with you have made all the difference. I felt lost but now everything is different. You saved me, mom..."

A flood of affection for him came over me. "Robbie, honey, I finally did something right. You saved me, too, I want you to know." I kissed him. Then a wonderful thought occurred to me. "In the only way that counts, Robbie, tonight you were my first as well."

He didn't say anything to that. We lay, side by side, for a few moments, just looking at each other, touching each other, the rest of the evening and night and a lot of tomorrows stretching out in front of us with all their exquisite promise.

"I bet you are hungry," I said. "I could make us something to eat."

"I sure am," he said. "Sounds wonderful. Make a lot. We'll be busy tonight."

So that is what I did, and for the next several years we were together, through college and through his law school years. I don't think his fiance, Abby, knows about us. She is a beautiful girl and we've become good friends. She is also very smart. She will make him a very good wife. I'm so proud of them both.

And Brad. Oh yes, Brad. After that night we didn't talk much. Aside from being very embarrassed I think he was probably afraid I would press charges. I almost did. It was a close call but I decided his anger had been directed specifically at me. And that was after a very bad day for him and way too much booze. I didn't think he was a general threat to others. So I just let it drop, happy to be rid of him. Word through the grapevine was that he was in AA after getting pulled over for driving drunk. I hope they help. We've never had a transaction together and I'm not looking forward to it if we do. But that's it. Nothing came of it and he's sort of faded away in my mind, in my life. He was just a mistake. Even though all that happened fairly recently, I feel it happened to someone else. I'm a different person now.

My cell rang. It was Robbie, on his way to pick me up. I went into the hall powder room to give myself a final check. I patted my jacket pocket. The rings were there. And then, in a few minutes, so was Robbie, so handsome in his smart, blue suit!

We talked quite a lot about the ceremony, the reception and honeymoon on our way to the church. They are going to Maui. We were both excited. This was just a change. Not goodbye. They will practice here. Neither wants to live anywhere else. Their first apartment is midway between her parents' house and mine. I will never refuse him and he doesn't want to give me up, either. It won't be like before, of course, but, occasionally... After the honeymoon, we'll get together and make an arrangement. We've already talked about it.

At the church he went back to the waiting room while I stayed outside, talking to friends and a few of the ushers. There were lots of people, my and Robbie's friends, the bride's family and friends, maybe a couple of hundred people all told.

Then the reverend came up to us and said the ceremony was about to start so I went back to join Robbie. Everything went perfectly. Abby looked so lovely, and not blushing but radiant, and I knew why. I felt a twinge of envy for her youth and her place in his life, but, you know, I know that's the way it is.

After the ceremony we went to the bride's father's club for the reception, which was also a joyous affair. Lots of drinking. But not so much the couple, I noted with approval. Everyone was in good spirits, including myself. It went on for a couple of hours and then they disappeared to get dressed for their departure.

They came out and made their way toward their car amid applause and cheers. The car was unfestooned with cans or anything else, a cliche avoided, I noted with further approval. She did throw her corsage to the bridesmaids. I didn't see who caught it. And there was the festive rice tossed on them, cooked, I noted, Abby's idea. They looked so happy and I was so happy for them.

I saw him open the car door for his beautiful bride, then went around to the driver's door. Just before he got in he looked around the crowd gathered on the club steps until he saw me, then smiled and waved and blew me a kiss. I blew one back to him. He got in, started the car, and they drove away to more applause, cheers and hand-waving from the guests, some of whom went into the street, waving after them.

I suppose I might have expected to be sad but I wasn't. I did feel some letdown, an emptiness, but that was short lived. Tonight would be the first of several quiet nights for me, but my life was otherwise full with work and other things I was interested in, and he would be back. So there was that small sadness, but it was so outweighed by the pride I took in him, in my lovely son, once my beautiful baby boy, then my energetic kid, then my struggling adolescent, and now my adult son. Those images were all whirling together in my mind, and I could see each stage of him over that long span of time, less distinct but there, in the next: my precious baby, my perpetual-motion kid, the emerging Robbie, and now, finally, miraculously it seemed to me, my marvelous and so, so interesting, grown man son.