My Mom, My Secretary

"When she started talking my first impulse was to throw her out of my office, but she is so damn calm and dignified and respectful. There's a gravity to her; she's the kind of woman who expects you to listen to her, the kind you want to like you, whose damn approval seems important. And she's smart, real smart. I realized that if she couldn't figure out what I wanted, well I must not have been clear. By the time she was done talking to me I knew she was right.

"I had Belinda call Bambi and get her back to my office, where I apologized.

"I asked you here for two reasons. First, I wanted you to hear it from me first. Who knows how this story's going to be garbled as it floats around the firm. Second, there is a rumor about you and your secretary."

"I've heard it."

"Good boy: never deny, never explain.

"Well, here is some unsolicited advice. There is a lot of eager and available twenty-something tail wandering around this place. I've been guilty of dipping into it myself. But your secretary, well she's a keeper. I'd hang on to her if I were you."

"Thank you sir, I'll keep that I mind."

On the way home I called Mom and asked her to dinner, making reservations at a small neighborhood bistro. The place was near empty, we were only one of two couples there. Over some wine and excellent fish, I listened to her version of events. I then told her of my meeting with Mr. Sanchez.

By then we had finished dessert; we had shared a chocolate mousse. Mom reached over and tapped the back of my hand with a finger and then turned it over, straightening my sleeve. "So your Mom's still quite the catch?"

And it dawned on me, yes the fuck she was.

She went on, "This causes a problem, you know."

""What do you mean?"

"Next month is the firm's summer party."

The summer party was a serious event. It was for the entire firm, but the partners left after a couple of hours and it quickly degenerated into a bacchanalia for the associates. I would be expected to bring a date. I was casually seeing a couple of different woman, still hanging with Anita but occasionally dating Ann. Both were fully presentable; I hadn't decided who to ask.

She saw that I didn't get it. "In light of your conversation with Mr. Sanchez, do you think it would be wise to show up with anyone but me?"

"I see your point. Couldn't I just go alone?"

"You need to understand what this party is about. The partners tell you it's a blow out for the associates, which it eventually turns into so you guys are convinced that's what it is. However, until they leave the partners are watching and grading you and your dates, deciding who's classy, who's not, who's appropriate, who's a loose cannon, who's partner-worthy. If you show up alone you look like a loser and it won't make anyone think you're not seeing me. A handsome young man like you? If you show up without a date everyone will think your hiding your girlfriend and that's because your girlfriend is me. They won't like you treating me like that."

The rest of the evening my brain ran through the permutations, but no solution came to me. So as I walked my Mom to her front door I took her hand in mine and asked her on a date. She leaned into me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me she could not imagine a more wonderful handsome companion. And I looked at her in the moonlight and thought how beautiful she was and how smart she was and how much I enjoyed spending time with her and how I wished I could find a girl like her and then it happened; I wanted her. In the way you're not supposed to want your mother. Standing there like that, she was gorgeous; I wanted her.

On the way home I convinced myself it would all pass, but that did not keep me from taking my penis in my hand and, for the first time, masturbating while images of my mother played in my head.

At work the next day the gossip was about how Mom had saved Bambi's job by standing up to Mr. Sanchez. When asked about it Mom deflected the attention to Mr. Sanchez, "It's not many men who are big enough to admit they erred and apologize. You've got to give him a lot of credit." The hoopla also refocused the interest in my non-existent romance with Mom as I received kudos for my incredible girlfriend.

Over the next few weeks my desire for my mother did not wane. In fact I started, in some oblique way, to date her. I didn't call Ann or Anita to go out, I asked Mom to the movies, to a play, and our desert hikes became a weekly feature. Some evenings I would go over to her house and we would just watch television, sitting on the couch, her leaning against me, my arms around her.

* * * *

I arrived at Mom's house the night of the party wearing the tuxedo she and I had picked out the week before. I knocked on the door and, when no one answered, let myself in. I could hear Mom in her room getting ready. I started down the hall when I heard her yell, "No, wait until I'm done. I want you to get the full effect."

I was sitting at the kitchen table goobing on the computer when I heard her say, "My my, don't you look handsome."

I turned to look at her. My god. She was wearing an emerald one-shoulder chiffon cocktail dress that hung just below her knee. It had a thin black belt. Her hair was pulled behind her head, her make-up, as usual, was understated, and she wore long oval silver earrings inset with emeralds. Her fingernails bore a clear polish. She was wearing four inch green spike heels held on by straps that ran around her ankle, around her foot, and up the front of her foot. Her toenails were painted red. She was carrying a small silver purse. She was some other worldly combination of class and sexy.

"Well, how do I look kiddo? Will I be a hit?"

"Ohmigod, you look incredible. You're stunning."

"You don't look too bad yourself son."

I walked over to her. In those heels we were about the same height. She put her hand on my chest and kissed me on the cheek. I caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled like a goddess.

I turned and stuck out my arm. Mom placed her hand on it and I escorted her outside, where I opened the car door for her and was rewarded with brief glimpse of her leg as the dress moved up as she sat down. During the ride we engaged in light conversation, but I kept glancing at her, unable to get over how good she looked. When we arrived I got out to open her door while she dug through her purse, found a tube of lipstick, and gave herself a quick touch up. When I opened the door for her Mom stood and placed her hand on my arm.

"Better get ready for some ribbing," she said.

And I got a lot, the guys both congratulating me and giving me shit about denying that I was dating her. I tried telling the truth, that this was our first date, but no one believed me. Mom mingled effortlessly with the crowd, but always returned to me, entwining her arm with mine, leaning against me, effortlessly invading my space.

When she spotted the Sanchezs she took my hand in hers and guided me towards them. Mr. Sanchez shook my hand, kissed Mom on the cheek, and introduced us to his wife.

"This is one of our brightest young lawyers. And this is Charlie, the woman I told you about."

"So you're the lady who stood up to my husband?"

Mom smiled, her face was bright and cheerful. "I'm sure he exaggerates."

Mrs. Sanchez took Mom by the arm to introduce her to some of the partners' wives. Mr. Sanchez stayed with me. "She's a beautiful woman. I'm glad to see you two together. A woman like that is a real asset."

I told him it was our first date, but he gave that no more credence than anyone else. Our conversation turned to baseball, a sport we both loved. When Mrs. Sanchez ferried Mom back, she turned to her husband. "Sam, Charlie tells me that both she and her young man are baseball fans. I've invited them to join us next Saturday night in the firm's luxury box. The Yankees are in town."

He turned to me. "You available?"

"Yes sir."

"Great, my secretary will get you the details."

As the Sanchezs' wandered off Mom placed her hand on my back and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "The Yankees with the partners on a Saturday night. Not bad for a first year associate. You need to show the proper appreciation to your date."

"How do I do that?"

"Kiss, on the lips, no tongue, but more than a peck."

I brought my lips to hers and we kissed, moving our puckered lips against each other. It probably lasted less than a second, but the effect on by body was electric. My stomach did back flips and my penis, already thick with blood, hardened.

Trying to calm down, I suggested we get a drink and held her hand on the way to the bar. We sat on some low-slung chairs. Mom ordered a vodka martini, I a beer. When the waitress laid them on the table Mom leaned forward and reached for her drink. I took the opportunity to glance down her dress. She looked up at me with a demure smile. Had she caught me staring?

"I'm having a wonderful time. You're a fun date."

"I thought this idea was a bit crazy, Mom..."

She rubbed her toes against me, temporarily distracting me. "Maybe its time, at least in public, you called me Charlie."

"Well Charlie," I drew the word out, it felt strange, but she was right, I couldn't keep calling her Mom, "so am I. I can't recall having this much fun."

Amber Owens, one of our senior female associates, and her date, Franco, walked up to the table.

"Mind if we join you?"

'No, please sit down," Mom answered for both of us.

They sat. "I'm glad to see you two out in the open finally." Then to Mom, "I can't get my boyfriend to stop looking at you."

Franco, a big Latino dude, looked sheepish.

"So I finally told him we should just sit with you so he could get a decent gander."

Mom's smile was pleasant and serene. "A girl does like to be admired."

After several minutes Mom announced she needed to stop in the ladies room. As she and Amber walked away I watched Mom's hips rock from side to side. So did Franco.

"You're date, she's a fox."

"I know man, man do I know."

We were soon joined by another couple, but I barely heard the conversation. Mom was driving me crazy. Her long legs, the curves of her hips, the sparkle in her eyes, her smooth skin, it all raced through my mind. She continued rubbing her toe on my leg. I touched her shoulder and took her hand in mine. She looked at it and then up at me through hooded eyes. And it dawned on me, Mom was digging this as much as I was; she enjoyed playing my girlfriend as much as I enjoyed playing her boyfriend.

The band came back from a break and started playing again, but its play list had changed, now aimed for a younger crowd. Mom scanned the room and said to the table, "It appears the partners have left," then to the others, "if you'll excuse us," and then to me, "care to dance."

I stood and held her hand, she stood up. She was radiant; many eyes followed our progress as we headed to the dance floor. When we got there I kissed her lips and then whispered in her ear. "You look so hot mom. Everyone's been staring at you all night."

"Getting jealous?"

"Damn straight, you only get to dance with me tonight."

As she stepped on the floor; I watched her butt swing back and forth. She stopped, turned around, and I took her in my arms. The floor was crowded and the music upbeat and we danced for several songs, Mom exhibiting the grace that confirmed that once, before I showed up, she had intended to pursue a career as a dancer. Then the band started a slow number. I watched the other dancers pull their dates close, hesitating myself until Mom wrapped her arms around my neck and moved into me. I stepped forward and our bodies met. I pulled her close, resting my hands on her lower back and swaying my hips with hers to the rhythm of the music.

Her firm breasts were pressed against my chest; it seemed like I could feel her nipples pushing through the thin fabric. And then it happened, my cock swelled, straining against the front of his pants. It seemed impossible that Mom didn't feel it, but other than to arch her neck and slide her hands down my chest and around my waist she didn't react. She leaned into me and rested her head against my shoulder, closing her eyes, losing herself in the moment. She started to slowly grind her hips into mine.

I massaged the small of Mom's back through her dress as we moved to the music. I looked around; no one appeared to be watching and I slid by hands to her butt. Mom was having none of that in public. She ran her hands down my arms, moved my hands off her ass and down her side so I was holding her thighs. I worked her exposed skin with my fingers. Mom let out a little moan into my neck, pulled me into her, and pressed her pelvis against me. She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked into my eyes, opened her mouth, and pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back. Our tongues connected and sent a shiver through my body. She tasted good.

We continued to make out in the middle of the dance floor, our movements slowing down until we were no longer dancing.

When the song ended Mom looked at me, her voice shaky, she was panting. "Let's go outside."

I followed her out to the porches that surrounded the building, finally finding one that was deserted and dark. She turned to me, held my head with two hands, and kissed me deeply and passionately with what seemed like years of pent-up desire. My hand returned to her leg and when I got no objection I started working up, tracing across the top of her thigh, following her bare skin to the small of her back, pushing her hard to me. Mom pressed into me, her tongue playing wildly in my mouth. There could be no doubt that she knew how hard I was and when my fingers started walking down her ass, she spread her legs, inviting me to go further. My hand glided across the curve of her ass, snaking under her tiny silk panties, and moved between her legs, gently brushing her wet pussy. Its lips were puffy and swollen; Mom was as aroused as I.

"Unnnggghhh..." she moaned into my mouth as I began to finger her pussy from behind. My other hand moved up the side of her body until it was cupping a breast thought her dress. Her breathing was becoming rapid and she bit my lower lip when I pushed my finger further inside her. I had her pinned against the wall and when I looked in her face I saw raw lust and desire staring back at me.

She again pulled my mouth to hers. I pressed my lips against hers and pushed my tongue deep into her mouth. I slid my hand under her neckline, kneading and massaging a breast. I pulled the other hand from between her legs and slid it down the front of her body, pressing my fingers against her dripping pussy. I rubbed the juices over her sex and slid a single finger deep inside her, eliciting a moan, then another.

Mom's body was writhing. I took a nipple between two fingers and squeezed it while pushed another finger inside her. Mom's breathing increased, she gasped, and then she exploded. Her knees weakened and she squeezed her thighs against my hand as I massaged her through her orgasm. She tried to stifle her scream, "OH GOD SEAN!!", in my neck.

I continued to rub my mother's swollen pussy while her body shuddered in my arms. Her sex contracted around my fingers; her juice drenched my hand.

Finally, as her orgasm faded, she whispered, "I think it's time you took me home."

I pulled my fingers from her pussy. She took my hand in hers and brought it to her mouth, sucking the fingers into her mouth and licking the juices. She took my hand in her and led me to the parking lot, where I opened the door for her. She glanced around and then with one foot in the car and the other still on the pavement, pushed her knees apart and pulled the front of her dress open. It was the first time I saw my mother's sex. She drew a finger across it and then brought her other leg into the car. I closed the door and dashed around the car and jumped in.

As I backed out of my parking spot Mom reached over and unzipped my pants, pulling my erection free. By the time we were on the street I felt my mother's warm breath followed by her wet mouth wrapping around the tip of my cock, furiously licking the head. By the time I was pulling onto the interstate her head was bobbing up and down. Her raunchy groan registered her pleasure at what she was doing.

I kept glancing at mom's head in my lap; it was a struggle to keep the car on the road. Her mouth-grip was tight, then loose and wet, the contrast heavenly. I started to jerk my hips, shoving my pleasure-aching cock to the back of her mouth. Mom cupped my testicles, signaling her approval as I fed her mouthfuls of my dick. Still, even though I was pushing hard into her mouth, she continued to expertly nibble on my dick, her tongue licking it in quick divine assaults. Goosebumps erupted on my skin. Mom groaned, feeding my excitement. As I pulled into her driveway Mom squeezed my balls one last time. That was it. I thrust hard into her mouth, bellowed, "OOOOHHHHH GGGGOOOOOODDDDD!!" and came, filling her mouth with my cum.

We hurried into the house, leaving a trail of clothes behind us on the way to the bedroom. There I fell into her arms and we both started laughing.

Finally Mom said, "I can't believe what just happened."

Naked, we kissed and cuddled, falling asleep in each other's arms. When I woke the next morning I felt Mom's warm body next to mine and said, in a low voice, "I love you." She, it turned out, was awake. She rolled over, smiled, and stroked my face, "I love you too son."

We spent the day in bed, rotating among long make-out sessions, serious conversation, holding and touching, and using our hands and mouths on each other. Mom was clear on one thing, no intercourse. "I'm still married to your father."

My life was extraordinary. I spent the day working with the woman I loved and the evenings in her arms. She was a voracious and talented lover and I was more than happy to try to make up for her years of frustration with Dad. Yet, somehow, she remained a devoted wife; her daily trips to the medical facility to sit next to a man who no longer had any idea who she was a constant topic of conversation among the nursing staff.

When, ten months later, Dad passed away, Mom had his body cremated. She wanted to release his ashes on a trail overlooking the Pacific on which they used to walk. It was the place she had been happiest with him, when he seemed able for a moment to let slip from his mind the burdens of his job and the resentments that so defined his personality. As his ashes disappeared Mom leaned into me and kissed me.

"You two were alike, both smart and hard working, but he let his anger rule him. His unhappy temperament was like a cage; he could never get out of it; he felt that other people, me most of all, put him there. It never seemed to occur to him that he made his own unhappiness."

I was not quite as nostalgic. "Mom, I mean no disrespect, but it is hard for me to understand a man who had you as a wife and did not celebrate that fact every moment of every day."

She turned to kiss me again, but stopped, studying the serious look on my face. I reached into a pocket, took out a box, and opened it. There was an antique diamond ring inside.

She squealed in delight, recognizing it instantly. "Its from that shop in Scottsdale." She picked it up and looked at it. "My god, its beautiful."

We had been shopping there some months ago and she had fallen in love with the ring, but decided not to buy. It was way too expensive. After we left I called the store and had it set aside. I bought it the next day.

"Will you marry me."

She held the ring up. "Marry you? I'm your mother, we can't marry. Can we?"

"Well, if its challenged, it won't stand up, but who's going to challenge it? I did some investigation, there are almost no controls on those Las Vegas wedding chapels. No one is double-checking anything. We can be married there."