A Special Connexion

I didn't get lucky this evening - the few conversations I got started soon hit a wall, either from outright incompatibility, or because of timetable conflicts. I stayed up late, later than I usually did, but for no avail. That was that kind of night, and I eventuelly turned off the computer and went to bed for a few hours of agitated sleep. When the alarm went in the morning, my head was throbbing with a light hangover.

I went through most of the day on autopilot - that's what happened when I stayed up way past my hour, though things usually got better sometimes around 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Thanks to a light schedule that day, by that time I was back home, grabbing a cold Coke from the fridge, and slumping down on the sofa in front of ESPN. I knew I would be hitting the naughty sites later that night, but I also knew it wouldn't be of any use for me to head there right now. I had already enough pent-up frustration as it was. So I bade my time, nibbling on Doritos and sipping my soda while pretending to be interested in the last innings of a baseball game. The game ended around half past seven, and I decided I could allow myself to head to my room and begin my evening of prowling. It was still early, but there were a few people online and after a few unsuccessful tries, I ended up chatting with a girl that was both interesting and possibly sexy. There was potential there, and I decided to make myself comfortable - taking off some of my clothes (down to a t-shirt and boxer shorts) and moving the laptop to the bed. Things were even heating up a little when, all of a sudden, she logged off. At first, I thought she had hit the wifi equivalent of a bump in the road, and I waited patiently for her to get back on, spending a few idle minutes checking out the new additions on YouPorn. But five minutes, then ten minutes passed, and still nothing. After twenty minutes, I knew there was nothing to hope for tonight. Maybe I'd see her online again another day, you never knew. I sighed, and was about to turn back to checking out profiles and sending out messages when I heard the familiar bleep.

"good evening sweetie"

I smiled.

"hi Mom. another early evening?"

"more like a long day. just got in, couldn't take it anymore"

"that bad?"

"you can't imagine. I mean, we did some good work, and we all agreed we should do this more often. it's just that there's so much to address, and... anyways. I need to relax, I've ordered some room service, it should be nice. how was your day?"

"it was okay, I guess. it was a slow day, nothing worth mentioning, just the usual"

"good. so what are you up to tonight? I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"no, nothing. well, I was chatting with a girl, but she got disconnected or she logged off, I don't know. anyways"

"she probably got disconnected. I don't see why she would let go of you, sweetie :-)"

"yeah, sure. doesn't make much of a difference though"

"I'm sure you won't remain idle for too long"

"thanks, it's nice to get a vote of confidence, even if it's from you, Mom"

"even if it's from me? you're hurting my feelings there, sweetie"

"well, you might not be the most objective person on that topic, I suppose. but thanks, really"

"anytime - brb"

"k"

I waited for two long minutes, before she came back on.

"sorry for that - room service has arrived"

"what did you get?"

"shrimp salad, vegetable wraps and a strawberry cheesecake. and a glass of white wine"

"that sounds far better than the pizza I had tonight. been treating you well, have they?"

"can't complain on the food angle. the rooms are nice too, big screen, good wifi..."

"good. I'll let you eat and relax then"

"thanks, sweetie - oh, I wanted to ask you something"

"sure. what is it?"

"it's a little embarrassing..."

"o-kay..."

"promise you won't laugh?"

I rolled my eyes.

"promise"

"I was thinking... when we were chatting before, you used to send me videos from different websites"

I blushed, cringing at the recollection of those exchanges. That had been part of our little routine, my looking for good videos among the porn sites, then sending her an email with the links, and finally watching them together and commenting on them. This is how we had discovered we shared more than a few interests, and ignited more than a steamy conversation.

I must have paused for a long time, because she typed:

"Chris? are you still there?"

"yes"

"I know how weird that might sound, but... well, I have the evening for myself, and... this is so embarrassing"

The situation was so outlandish I managed to smile a little.

"okay, Mom... here is what I use", and I made her a list of the few sites where I had been "making the rounds" for most of the evening. I carried on: "that should cover all your needs :-)"

"thanks, sweetie. I'm sorry, I didn't know who to ask except you. I won't bother you with this again"

"no problem, Mom"

"have a nice evening, baby"

"enjoy your dinner, Mom"

And she logged off. It took me a few minutes to recover from this episode - shaking my head, I headed to the bathroom, then went downstairs to grab a beer. Back upstairs, I was nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all. But then again, things had been strange for the past week, so I suppose it was only par for the course.

I settled back down on my bed, and started prowling again - profiles, messages, and checking out videos to pass the time. It had been maybe an hour since the chat with my mother, when she logged back on again. This time, I decided I'd be the one to message her first.

"welcome back, Mom. found what you wanted? :-)"

"hey sweetie. not really..."

"how come?"

"I don't know how you manage to find anything in there. there's so much crap, I've gone through half a dozen videos without finding any that I liked. and the good ones, I had already seen"

"well, it takes time. time and dedication :-)"

"I see that. well, I'm going to dive back in then"

I hesitated a moment, and blushing a little, decided to reply:

"well, maybe there's a solution"

"what? what would that be?"

"I might... I might have an email, you know, like I used to send you... before, that is"

"yes?"

"so I have an email, the one I had prepared for the evening when... anyways. want me to send it to you? there's a couple of links in there"

"oh that would be so nice of you, baby"

I took a deep breath, and going to my "drafts" folder, located the email. I added a short "here you go - C.", hesitated adding something along the lines of "hope you like them", and then deciding against it. And I hit "Send".

"you've got mail"

"thanks, sweetie"

I waited for a minute, not knowing exactly what to type after that. Before I had made up my mind, Mom carried on.

"looks like a nice selection there..."

I checked the content of the email I had just sent - for sure, the links were rather explicit, including one "cumshot-on-beautifull-tits-compilation" and one "slut-with-huge-natural-tits-cum-drooling-movies", among other colorful descriptions. To be honest, it was just the standard fare for our exchanges before: I had made no mystery of my attraction for generous breasts, and the cleavage pictures she had responded with had only encouraged me in this direction. And the fascination for cumshots was one of those shared obsessions that seemed so miraculous before we knew who we were. But this is what I had just sent my own mother - if I hadn't been blushing so much, maybe I could have appreciated the sheer absurdity of the situation. I hesitated in composing my reply, and decided to go for a light tone.

"yeah, I remember putting an extra care in that one :-)"

"well, thank you. seems I'm all set for this evening..."

"you're welcome, Mom"

"have a nice evening and see you tomorrow, sweetie"

"good night, Mom"

She logged off, leaving me somewhat dumbstruck, staring at my computer screen. My head was spinning. I couldn't figure out what was happening, but for some reason, I decided to spend the rest of the evening hunting for videos - trying to find the hottest and sexiest clips, in case she came back asking for more. I know there wasn't anything rational behind that. Except that, in this strange unfolding of events, that sounded like the next twisted, logical step at the time.

Having gone to bed even later than the previous evening, I barely survived the next day. I kept yawning and staring blankly into space, and luckily again I had a very light schedule. Which means I was home early in the afternoon, and was slumped in the sofa in front of the TV when Mom came back from her seminar. She was in a good mood, obviously glad it was over, and greeted me with a hug. Seeing my face, she chuckled.

"Oh, seems someone's been staying up late..."

(stiffling a yawn) "Just a little. So how was it?"

"So good they decided we should have another one soon. Which I don't mind, because we really needed to work on some issues... but well, the idea of spending my days AND evenings with that bunch is not exactly thrilling me."

"Oh really? I couldn't have known, from what you told me." (we both chuckled)

"Ok baby, I'm beat. I'm going to get myself a long shower, and we'll order some pizza."

"Erm, Mom - could we make it Chinese? I've had pizza for three days on a row, and..."

"Deal, Chinese it is. Can you manage it, please?"

"Sure, Mom."

She flashed me a smile, and taking off her jacket, climbed up the stairs humming to herself. Soon afterwards, I could hear the water running from the bathroom for what seemed to be an endless shower - I'm sure entire African countries did not see that much water in a year. When she came down, she had on a loose bathrobe and was drying her hair. She smelled good. She sat down next to me, and stretched out her legs, purring like a cat.

Inwardly I sighed. After the strange mood of the previous weeks, things seemed back to normal - at least on the surface, but I wasn't going to try and see what was underneath. Sure, deep down I was still confused, but I was craving the normalcy of this evening, and more than willing to enjoy it as such. So we chatted and ate while watching some stupid TV show, and for the first time I felt relaxed again around my Mom.

Around eleven, we went up to our respective rooms and bade each other good night. Mom had insisted on opening a bottle of wine, and even if I had limited myself to a single glass (she had two), I felt the familiar buzz of light tipsyness. Which, combined with the overall mood of our discussions, made for a perfectly rosy evening. Nearly whistling to myself, I switched on the computer to check for email and catch up on some news. I was half-expecting the familiar window to pop up, but that did not happen and I actually managed to go to bed relatively early. And I slept like a log.

I didn't see Mom much during the week-end that followed. I woke up a little late, she was already gone for some errands and a little shopping, and I only ran into her as she was coming back and I was going out. One of my friends was celebrating his birthday, and had organized a big party at his uncle's house by a lake, and I had some things to buy before I went there. The drive to the lake took the better part of two hours, which meant that I slept over (like anybody else) and ended up being back home only early Sunday evening. Of course, I wasn't in top shape (having overdrunk and underslept), so I called it an early night and limited my online forrays to the customary mail-checking.

Monday marked the beginning of a new week, another week that I would be spending mostly by myself, since Mom had another of those off-site seminars. We had stocked up on frozen dishes for me to eat (trying to bring some variety to my pizza-dominated diet so far), and I had filled the fridge with a pack of beers and enough soda to get me through those difficult days I'd have to care for myself. We even joked about it, Mom confessing that she rarely cooked for herself on those evenings where she was alone, and usually indulging her sweet tooth with a full bucket of ice cream (not very original, she agreed). It had been nearly three weeks since "the incident", and the whole thing now seemed like something out of a bad dream. In fact, there wasn't much in our normal, daily life, to bring that subject back in the conversation - it was as if those two worlds were completely disconnected, without any overlap, and therefore existed in two parallel realities... one of which was slowly dissolving into oblivion.

But still, I was a little nervous when I got home that night - Mom was supposed to get to the seminar that evening, spending three nights and three whole days there, and I couldn't help but wonder if she would be online. It was early when I sat down in front of the computer, and I spent most of the next hour or so looking at videos and saving the links to the best ones in a draft in my mailbox. I know I wasn't daring to consider it, but the idea of sharing those videos with my Mom was strangely thrilling - both in part because it meant reconnecting with the excitement I had felt when we were chatting before the incident, but also because she was my own mother. And if I could definitely face that former reason without too much blushing, I certainly wasn't ready to face the latter... yet.

Making a little break, I went downstairs to grab my microwaved lasagna. Coming back to my room, I was surprised to see the chat window already open - it was only 7:30, and by that time Mom would have just barely checked into her hotel. But it was her, and I quickly sat down to reply.

"hey sweetie"

"hey Mom. how come you're online?"

"wow, what a nice welcome. :-) is this a bad time for you?"

"oh no, not at all. I just went to grab dinner, but I wasn't expecting you until later."

"it IS really a bad time for you. :-) should I come back later?"

"no, really." I rolled my eyes, and kept typing. "I thought that by that time, you'd just arrived to your hotel. and that, probably, you'd be going out for dinner with some of the guys, you know."

"with some of the guys, really? baby, again, this is not exactly the crowd I'd go out with, really. I'd definitely prefer going out with your friends, they'd certainly be more fun than the people I work with. and I'm going to have to spend the next three days with them, so why start earlier, right?"

I chuckled. "so what is it going to be? room service?"

"exactly. just ordered it, and now I'm going to head for a shower. I'll be back in a few."

"okay, Mom. I'm not going anywhere."

"good. later then."

I was certainly puzzled by all this, but I shook my head and started eating my lasagna, keeping an eye on the chat window. Soon Mom's status turned to "idle", but I knew how she loved her long showers and I didn't worry much about it. And indeed, after almost twenty minutes, the status changed back to "active" as she started typing.

"I'm back."

"how was the shower?"

"great. but I had to come out for the room service."

"bummer, really."

":-) so, any plans for the evening?"

"not really. things are definitely quieter than last week, so it's nice to be able to relax."

"you know, that's exactly why I didn't go out with the guys, as you were suggesting. I wanted to have some time for myself. being able to spend a quiet evening - a hot shower, a comfy bathrobe, room service and a huge bed to stretch out on. :-)"

"hm, remind me, is this really work? because that really sounds like a vacation to me."

"thankfully, there are some perks, and I fully intend to enjoy every single one."

"that's the spirit. and what are your plans for the evening?"

"hm, I don't know. to be honest, I was considering that maybe I could hit the naughty sites, but..."

I was a little startled by this admission (in fact, I kept being startled by the coolness with which Mom had "adapted" to this strange situation, and by how direct she was with this kind of things), but swallowing, I replied. "but...?"

"well, you know how it is - more often than not, hugely disappointing."

"I see."

"so I was wondering... you're going to think this is too weird."

"please carry on."

"well, I was wondering if you had another email, like the one you shared the other day, that you could..."

"it's true that this feels kinda weird. I mean, sending you that kind of... videos." I just couldn't get myself to write out "porn" there - that was going too far, even considering the circumstances.

"I understand. I'm sorry I even asked, I thought that, well, since we had... never mind."

"yes?" I was suddenly very curious about what she had been about to type.

"I mean... well, obviously we know much more about each other than we did before, and... "

I held my breath, waiting for her to continue.

"... and well, since we can't exactly erase what happened and what we learned, I thought we might as well... I don't know, acknowledge it?"

I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. My heart was beating hard in my chest, and I was definitely feeling a strange buzz. I took a deep breath, then opened the draft email with the links, and after one last consideration, hit the "send" button. Getting back to messenger, I typed: "you've got mail."

"what?" A pause from her, then she typed: "oh, thank you." with a blushing smiley.

I was about to reply when she carried on: "my, that's quite a long list there. how come you had that saved away?"

"I don't know, I thought I'd... well, you know, save it for me for..."

"oh, I see. I nearly thought you had done it for me, and I was surprised."

I blushed, and, glad that she couldn't see my face, I tried to play it cool.

"what made you think that?"

"well, that you had one such mail ready to send. looks like a nice selection there."

"yeah, there are a few very good ones."

"any recommendation?"

"what?"

"which one would you recommend I begin with?"

"hm, let me see. I don't know, they were all..."

"ok, I think I'll manage. :-) I'll just start with the first one, and go down the list. thanks sweetie. I'll leave you alone now, I'm sure there are plenty of girls wanting to hit on you."

"hm, I'm not sure about that. but we'll see."

"go get them, tiger! :-)"

"yeah, right. have a nice evening, Mom."

"well, looking at what you sent me, it IS going to be a nice evening. talk soon, baby"

"bye, Mom"

She logged off, and for a long minute, I kept looking at the screen, reading and re-reading those last lines. I had always had a great relationship with my mother - honestly, we often had fun together, sharing the same kind of humor, laughing at the same jokes... and well, in retrospect, that kind of explained also why I had felt so much comfortable with her online alias. It was only the difference in topic (moving from the innocent to the sensual/sexual) that had prevented me from recognizing her. But as they say, hindsight is always 20/20, and it was easy for me to say that now that I knew. I sighed, closed the chat window and went downstairs to grab another Coke. Sitting back in front of the computer, I wondered what to do now. And eventually decided to try finding someone to chat, all the while looking for interesting videos to pass the time.

Maybe my heart wasn't in it, but I didn't find anyone interesting to chat with that evening. Conversations soon dried out, and I ended up spending most of my time hunting for videos, and finding a few good ones. And, again, saving the links for future use.

The next morning, checking my emails over breakfast, I realized Mom had sent me a little note. It was short, and read "thanks for the lovely videos. have a good day, Mom". I smiled and blushed at the same time, and hesitated about sending her the new batch of links I had gathered. I eventually decided against it - it was one thing to respond to her demand, it was another to volunteer it. But I sure was impatient to see if she'd be online again that night. The day crawled by, and as soon as I was done I rushed back home and went straight for the computer to check if she was online. It was rather early, and that softened a little my disappointement. She would surely still be working, or at some post-seminar gathering that they had to favor ideas exchanges and team spirit. So I went back to video-hunting with feeble attempts at chatting on the side, waiting for her to pop in.