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"He's gone Mother. He's with another woman, a woman half his age, and a woman young enough to be his daughter," said Michael trying to make her see what an asshole her husband was for leaving her for a child.
She looked at him as if she was about to cry. She looked at him as if he was being cruel for saying what he did. She looked at him as if to say that she still loved his father, her ex-husband.
"I still miss him," she said looking up at her son with sad eyes. "He would have loved this house, your new truck, and my new car." She wrapped her hands around her wine glass as if it was a warm, coffee mug and her hands were cold. "Don't you miss your father Michael?"
If this woman was any woman other than his mother, ready to make his move, this was the time that he'd take her in his arms to hold her, hug her, and comfort her before kissing her. While kissing and kissing her, French kissing her, this is the time he'd be feeling her through her clothes before stripping off her clothes. If this was any woman other than his mother, he'd be feeling her big breasts through her blouse while fingering her nipples through her bra. He'd be reaching around behind her to feel her shapely ass through her short skirt and bikini panty. He'd move his hand up her thigh to cup her pussy though her panty while fingering her pussy slit through the soft, cotton material of her white, bikini panties.
With him ready, willing, horny, and sexually frustrated, this is the time that he'd be having incestuous sex with his mother. Only, seemingly she wasn't ready to rekindle their incestuous, sexual relationship. Maybe she'd never be ready for that again. Maybe a onetime thing, once was enough to satisfy her curiosity and her sexual lust for him. Maybe she was feeling as guilty as he was.
"Miss him? I hardly knew him." He made a face as if he had just vomited in his mouth. "No, I don't miss my father," said Michael looking down at the carpet with disgust while shaking his head from side to side. "I'm glad he's gone. He was never much of a father to me. When he wasn't working, he was out drinking and cheating on you. Even now, he doesn't think enough of me to call me, e-mail me, send me a card, a gift for my birthday and/or Christmas, or come visit me. He could be dead for all that I know," he said with as much anger as he spoke with sadness.
No doubt happy to have his mother all to himself, he was glad that the big rooster was evicted from the henhouse and the proud peacock was still here with her. There was room for only one bull in this cow patch. If his father was still with his mother, she never would have stripped off her clothes in front of him. She never would have had incestuous sex with him. As if erotically teasing him and sexually enticing him, she never would have been sitting across from him flashing him her panties. His mother was his very own Mrs. Robinson.
"You didn't know him in the way that I did Michael. To you, he was just your father. To me, he was my friend, my best friend, my lover, my husband, my companion, and my life," she said looking as if she was about to cry again. "He was a wonderful man back then when I first met him, before he started drinking, staying out late, and cheating on me," she said. "Sometimes I wonder if it was all my fault. Maybe I didn't give him enough sex. Maybe I could have given him more sex," she said thinking that him cheating on her and leaving her for a younger woman was her fault.
He looked at his mother as if she was nuts.
"I don't know how you can blame yourself for Dad's drinking and infidelity being that he was an adult and the one in control of his own life," said Michael acting like the adult by accepting his role as the head of the household. "I don't know how you can possibly blame yourself for him leaving you for a younger woman.
Suddenly a shower of happiness returned to her face and she gave him the same sexy smile that she gave him that night when they were in the motel room back in California.
"Actually it's comforting to hear you say that when my only sounding board left me for another woman," she said, "a younger woman at that. Not very good for my ego and my self-confidence, there was no way that I could compete with a woman ten years my junior."
Seemingly, with her vulnerable in the way that he was vulnerable on Halloween night, his mother was ripe for the taking.
"Well I'm here for you now mother," said Michael. "I'm not going anywhere, that is, unless there's a choir of Playboy Bunnies singing Christmas carols out our front door and asking me to join them," he said with a laugh.
She laughed too.
"Yes you are here for me now and I wouldn't hold you back from joining the choir of Playboy Bunnies should they appear at our front door. I may even strip off my top and join them," she said laughing. "Imagine what our new neighbors would think of me frolicking in the snow topless while singing Christmas songs."
He suddenly envisioned his mother topless and going house to house singing Christmas carols with her tits exposed and her nipples as erect as his cock was beginning to grow now. With his favorite game voyeurism, he'd love to flash his mother's tits to other men. With his mother standing in her underwear and topless before striping herself naked, maybe her favorite game is exhibitionism. How hot would that be for a voyeuristic man to be with an exhibitionistic women? He'd love for other men to know how lucky he is to have a mother who looks like her.
"I'd pay to see that," he said with a dirty laugh.
Where she would have played along with him before, she changed the subject now.
"Alas, even though I still have you with me now," she reached out her hand to squeeze his knee and when she did, her knees parted enough to give him a prolonged flash between her legs of her white, bikini panties. She gave him a long, heated, sexual look that culminated in her sliding a slow tongue over her full lips.
'Oh, my God,' he thought to himself while imagining his mother sucking his cock again while staring up at him with her big, green, beautiful eyes.
"I won't have you for long when some woman makes you her man," she said pausing before speaking again as if talking to herself. "Yet, even though it's been years since we were together, Christmas isn't the same without your father in my life and without a man in my bed, but you're my man now," she said smiling widely.
'What? He was her man now? What did she mean by that?'
As if she was speaking in code, he wondered what she meant by that remark. He couldn't help but imagine being her man and being in bed with his mother again. He couldn't help but imagine being in bed naked with his mother again. He couldn't help but imagine his mother naked and in bed with him again. He couldn't help but imagine having sex with his mother again. He couldn't help but imagine holding her, hugging her, cuddling her, and spooning her while they were both naked. Naked, naked, naked, he wished he was in bed naked again with his naked mother.
With his mother giving him the image that he was her man, he couldn't help but imagine licking her pussy while fingering her pussy and while reaching up his hand to fondle her breasts and finger her nipples. He couldn't help but imagine making sweet love to his mother again before fucking his mother hard again. He'd love nothing more than to pile drive her pussy with his cock. He couldn't help but imagined her staring up at him with her big, green eyes while sucking his cock and allowing him to cum in her mouth again and watching her swallow his cum.
Not knowing what else to say to comfort her, he was unable to shake the incestuous thoughts, sexual images, and forbidden feelings that she gave him again and that he had for her. If she was any other woman other than his mother, wishing he could, he would have taken this as his cue to kiss her, French kiss her. Only, just as he was afraid to French kiss her the first time, as if they had never been incestuously sexual together, he was afraid to kiss her again now. Not wanting to ruin their new life together, instead, he looked at his mother while sipping his wine and getting angry by all that she said about missing his father.
The only things he remembered about his father were the bad things. He remembered how he made his mother cry. He remembered all the fighting and the arguing they did. A continuation of the same argument every damn day, they argued in the morning before his father went to work and again that evening when he came home from work. Their arguing was his father's excuse to leave the house and slam the door shut behind him. Their arguing was his father's excuse to drink and cheat on his mother.
Weekends were a blessing as his father was never around. There was always a big poker game somewhere at someone house, or so he said. Invitations to go places with his father were never extended. He never took him bowling, to a ballgame, or to the park. He never even spent the time with him to throw a ball in the backyard.
By the time he was off to college, his father was long gone. He had been gone for years by then. For sure, no doubt the reason why he takes her side, spending more alone time with her, he was much closer to his mother than he ever was with his father. Now, it's as if he never even had a father. He only wished she felt the same way and felt as if she never had a husband. He wanted and needed her to think of him as her husband, her boyfriend, and her lover.
"Honestly mother, I don't know how you can miss the man. He was such a bastard in the way he treated you. He was such a pig for taking up with that young whore from his office who was young enough to be his daughter. I don't understand why he'd leave you for her," said Michael meaning what he said.
"You're right," she said. "I know you're right."
If only his mother would have him sexually, he'd never leave his mother for any women.
"He's nothing more than a pig for taking up with a woman nearly half his age and who was my age then that I am now. Other than sex, I don't understand what a 36-year-old man would see in a 22-year-old woman. How could they even have a conversation? Now with him 46-years-old and her 32-years-old, I'm surprised he hasn't dumped her. I'm surprised she hasn't dumped him," he said not even knowing if they were still together or not.
She looked at him acknowledging what he said about his father with some insight.
"I know and you're right. I get it now after all of these years. For him to treat me like that was wrong, so very wrong," she said with sadness.
He looked at her wondering why she was even here with him instead of attending some Christmas party at a nightclub with a man. She didn't even have anything planned for New Year's Eve. Her excuse was that all of her friends were back in California but when she lived there, she never went out anywhere either. Imagining dancing with her and having a good time with her, he was tempted to ask her out on a night on the town for New Year's Eve. Only until he found a good paying job, he didn't have any extra money to go anywhere and to do anything.
After they spent a big chunk of money on the house, the furnishings, the new car, the new truck, and all the new clothes, just as his mother didn't want to, he didn't want to blow through all of their money either. They put a one hundred thousand, 20% down payment on a five hundred thousand dollar house. Then, financing the cars at zero percent interest, they put 10% down payments on a car and truck worth $90,000 retail. After spending $55,000 on furniture and appliances and another seven thousand dollars on clothes, shoes, and outer for the winter weather that they have in Boston that they didn't have in California, they had $836,000 left of the one million dollars.
Leaving them $86,000, more than enough money to live through the year and pay their bills, they invested $750,000 of that money with Angelo Mozilo's banker. With a million dollars a small fortune but with neither one of them working yet, between the mortgage payment, monthly expenses, and the new vehicle payment, they'd be slowly chipping away at their savings. At least with their investments, they'd always have a cushion. And with Angelo's banker getting them a fair mortgage, they'd never lose their house to foreclosure again.
"You need to go out more Mother. You need to meet someone. You need to forget about him and move on with your life. He's never coming back," he said pausing while looking to see what reaction his words had on her. "As if he died and you're a widow, you spent enough time mourning the loss of him. You need to date. You need to meet a nice man and marry again," he said.
She made a sour face.
"I know you're right Michael but sometimes, especially when I'm feeling sad and lonely, my head and my heart go in opposite directions. "Too preoccupied thinking about him, where he is and what he's doing, I'm not ready to have a relationship with another man, not just yet," she said slowly shaking her head while looking out the window to watch the snow silently fall. "At least we're going to have a white Christmas," she said changing the subject with a smile. "We never had white Christmases in California.
He looked out the window with his mother while watching the snow falling.
"We're going to need to buy a shovel," he said with a laugh, "and a snow blower with the long driveway that we have."
As if seeing her for the first time and in a new light of sadness and vulnerability, he looked at her as if seeing her more as a potential love match for some man instead of looking at her as his mother. Suddenly feeling jealous, he didn't want another man kissing and pawing his mother. He didn't want another man having sex with his mother when he wanted to have sex with her again and again. Still, with his commonsense getting the better of his incestuous thoughts, he prevailed in trying to fix up his mother with someone.
"Maybe you should try online dating," he said. "I can help you make your profile. I'll even take some sexy pictures of you to post."
Suddenly images of his mother in all manners of undress filled his head, heightened his libido, and hardened his cock. He wouldn't mind taking some sexy, cheesecake photos of his mother. He wouldn't mind her stripping down to her bra and panties in front of him again for him to photograph her in her sexy underwear. He wouldn't mind her removing her bra in the way she removed her bra in the motel room Halloween night. He'd love nothing more than to take a dozen photos of her in her sexy underwear and of her topless. He'd love nothing more than to take a dozen photos of her tits.
Then, making himself deliriously dizzy with incestuous thoughts, he'd love to photograph his mother naked. He imagined her posing her naked body for him to photograph. He imagined her sitting on the couch with her legs spread wide open. Turning one way before turning the other, he imagined her bending at the waist to touch her toes while flashing him plenty of her pink pussy. Only, what dating site, other than a pornographic dating site would post such sexually explicit photos. Moreover, his mother would never pose for such sexually explicit photos nor would she ever allow him to take photos of her in her underwear, never mind topless and/or naked.
As soon as he offered to take some sexy photos of his mother for her online dating profile, dizzy with incestuous desire for his mother, he couldn't help but think of her wearing one of her short, low cut, sexy nightgowns with nothing else underneath. Lighting up her nearly transparent nightgown with his camera flash to make it virtually see-through, he'd love to have a photograph of his nearly naked mother for fodder when he masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with her. If only taking sexy photos of her for himself, continuing his sexual fantasy, he imagined her standing before his camera wearing only her panty and bra.
'Wow! How hot would that be to photograph her in her underwear?' Then, he imagined her topless before imagining her naked. 'Wow! That's even hotter to photograph her topless and naked' he thought.
As if she was a Playboy model, he imagined her removing her bra to cup her breasts with her hands while he took dozens of photos of her topless body. He imagined lifting her naked breasts in the palm of her hands as if offering her breasts to him to touch, feel, fondle, and suck. He wondered if she'd allow him to photograph her topless and/or nude, face down on the couch or face up on the rug, strictly for artistic purposes, of course. Falling for that line, he imagined posting naked photos of her online for all men to see how truly beautiful his mother is without her clothes.
'Nah, she'd never go for any of that. She'd never allow me to take such sexy photos of her never mind post such sexy photos of her online,' he thought to himself.
Artistic purposes his ass. Who's he kidding? Yet, it was enough for him to think of his mother posing for him in her underwear, topless, and/or naked while he took picture after picture of her in all manner of undress.
He'd love to see his mother in her underwear again. He'd love to see his mother topless again. He'd love to see his mother naked again. If ever he saw his mother in her bra and panty, topless, and/or naked again, he didn't know if he could control himself from touching her and feeling her where no son should ever touch and feel his mother.
"Online dating?" She looked at him as if he was nuts, drunk, or both. "I'd never post my profile online with all of those creepy and perverted men out there who'd contact me for sex. I'd never allow you to post any sexy cheesecake photos of me either," she said with a sexy laugh. "With all of the invasive practices our government does with reading people's private e-mails that float continuously through the Cloud, I'd never post my photos online either. They'd be there forever for everyone to hack and to see."
He imagined e-mailing his mother as if he was a man interested in dating her. He imagined his mother falling in love with his anonymous self through his sexy and romantic e-mails. Writing erotic correspondence back and forth, he wondered if he could persuade her to send him topless and/or naked photos of herself while he pretended that he was an interested suitor.
"Not every man out there is a creep and/or a pervert Mom," he said with a laugh while knowing that he was a creep and a pervert.
When it came to wanting to see his mother in her sexy underwear, topless and/or naked, especially when it came to wanting to see his mother topless and/or naked, he was just as much of a creep and a pervert as was the next guy.
"What about you?"
She looked at him with sexual interest in the way that he was looking at her with sexual interest. He looked at her with confusion.
"What about me what?"
She gave him a cat that just ate the canary smile.
"Why don't you post an online profile looking to date someone? Why don't you write a profile of yourself and I'll take some sexy, beefcake photos of you in your underwear," she said with a sexy look and a dirty laugh.
He wouldn't mind doing that. He wouldn't mind his mother taking some sexy beefcake photos of him in his underwear. He'd even pose for her while in his underwear. He'd even remove his underwear to pose for her naked and for her to photograph his cock.
"Mom? Eww! Gross, that's so gross," he said feigning his disgust.
Actually, especially if he had an erection, and no doubt he would have an erection while posing for his mother in his underwear or naked, he'd love to pose for his mother in his underwear. No doubt, as soon as he removed his pants, he'd have an erection. No doubt, with her staring at his underwear clad body in the way he had stared at her underwear clad body, he'd definitely have an erection. Wondering if she'd ask him to pose naked, tit for cock, he'd pose naked for her and allow her to take naked photos of him if she'd pose naked for him and allow him to take naked photos of her too. Yet, even if she didn't pose naked for him, he'd still pose naked for her.
