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It was a Friday night and my son Tom had his first hockey game of the season. A senior, it was his second year as starting goalie, and the games always put me on the edge of my seat. Coffee and popcorn in hand, I found a seat towards the back and settled in as the other parents slowly filled the seats.

Being a divorced dad, I always made sure to make his events. Whether band, golf, or other school functions over the years, I did my best to support him and show my face. My ex wife, on the other hand, took solace in the fact she was the woman in charge and didn't need to show her face at all of his events for Tom, or myself, to know it. Our sophomore daughter in college took right after her.

Tonight, however, was apparently not going to be the norm. For, who should stroll in with her 5 year old daughter Emma and 2 year old son Max was my ex wife Beth. Or rather, Elizabeth as she now directed me to call her. Perhaps Beth reminded her of too many late nights in the basement, kids upstairs and asleep, where she let me explore her body. To spend whatever time she needed to lie back, legs spread, and push my head into her vagina as I licked dutifully until she orgasmed. Beth certainly appreciated it, often telling me I could do whatever I wanted.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, called me by my first name with our kids, Sarah and Tom. Every time I called, it was "Tom, Peter's on the phone." or "Sarah, Peter's here to give you a ride." Even after 10 years and over $250,000 in after tax child support, Beth showed zero care or concern for me as a parent. Life moved on, and I learned to just enjoy the kids as best I could.

Tonight, however, as Beth strolled in, I was a bit surprised. It had probably been a couple months since I really laid eyes on her. Having kids over 40 did not do any justice to her, and it seemed like she had put on a good 40 pounds. Her long, blonde hair still flowed beautifully around her wrinkle free, pale, angelic face. The motherly body seemed to swell beneath the dress she was wearing, bulging out slightly at her stomach and hanging on the soft swells of her botTom.

I watched her profile slowly walk down the stairs with her husband Frank leading the charge. My eyes locked on the shocking size of her chest, probably twice the "b" cup I remembered from college and our first years of marriage. The bulge of her chest seemed in perfect proportion the roundness of her botTom, and despite the added weight, she looked very voluptuous in the blue flowered dress, black sweater draped over her shoulders. She walked with the air of knowing her beauty was understood and to be admired.

They sat down in the front row so the kids had some space. And frankly, they needed it. Max dropped a puck he was carrying, held his hockey stick, and started to run back and forth along the boards. Emma ran up to the glass, slapping it, trying to get Tom to pay attention to her as the teams were warming up. I felt a pang of jealousy, remembering the early years when our kids were eager and excited about everything. But mostly, as Beth sat down, as I admired her body, I was jealous that she wasn't coming home with me tonight despite the larger size.

The game started, and I found myself for once not very wound up as my son began to defend the goal. Rather, my eyes kept returning to Beth, watching her interact with sweater on her shoulders. Opening it, revealing a surprising large amount of bare breast. She would turn towards my direction, watching Max run down the boards, and my eyes wondered at the borderline obscenity of the low cut front, like an exposed butt. I glanced at the other woman, noting their high collars or bundled coats. Beth, on the other hand, was practically letting her tits hang out.

The more I watched, the more I wondered if she knew what she was doing. Realizing that her body was borderline fat, so she was providing a distraction from it. Relishing the fact that her chest was the envy of the women and men around her. She had put on her sweater, but made sure it stayed unbuttoned and open, tucked into her arms on the sides of her breasts. Beth would even turn, look back at the crowd to see who was here, presenting the fans her cleavage. I was careful not to look directly at her, but I could see her movements and turning.

By the end of the first period, I was raging hard. My son had not let in a goal, and I didn't even notice. Beth's husband Frank took the kids up the stairs, leaving Beth alone. She pulled the sweater tight over her chest as she turned to watch them go, and then, catching herself, she let go of her sweater and let it pop over her breasts. Her body seemed to arch excessively, pushing up her cleavage, letting the world stare at the mother who apparently wanted to be stared at.

Or perhaps I just needed a girl friend to take my mind of other women's breasts. I stared at the ice, watched the Zamboni, and tried to relax. Tried to remember we were in a public place, not our basement 10 years ago, and that Beth would not be popping her top for me. Thankfully, Beth turned away from me and my eye's no longer had their distraction.

A small whimper in the distance made me turn towards Beth again. Emma had returned, face almost crying, and I could vaguely hear her complain that they were out of popcorn. Her world seemed to be ending as the players took the ice again, Max running along the boards with Frank following. Beth lifted Emma and put her on her lap, consoling her as a mother would. Life for a 5 year old must be tough without popcorn.

My sympathetic smile slowly drifted from my face as I watched Emma and Beth. Emma was leaning back, pouting heavily, and staring at her mom's breasts. She brought her hands up along the sides of Beth, finding the heavy sides of Beth's chest, and looked up at her mom. Beth looked down, lovingly, trying to love out the agony that comes without popcorn. She leaned down and kissed Emma on the head, hands running through her hair. Emma moved her hands to the front of Beth's dress, began fondling gently with the hem, and looked up at her staring mom.

Emma was apparently looking for permission to breast feed! It hadn't even crossed my mind that perhaps Beth still had on her motherly fat. That her body was still hormonal, storing nutrients for the coming winter. Beth had stopped breast feeding well before Sarah and Tom had hit one, but apparently, life was different these days. Perhaps Beth was fighting her battle with middle age, keeping the essence of motherhood as long as she could. It really didn't matter. All I cared about at the moment was Emma's little fingers tugging gently at Beth's dress.

Beth shook her head, indicating that permission was not going to be granted. Sadly, Beth seemed to have limits with her public displays of erotic behavior. Emma moved her head up, now even more distraught, and began to cry. My eyes locked on Beth's chest, now slightly more exposed from Emma's tugging. The nipples seemed ready to jump out, chest turning slightly towards me. My eyes moved up. Beth was staring directly at me, eye's cold and furious. With a simple turn, she covered her exposed chest and held Emma.

The displays came to an abrupt end for the remainder of the game. I didn't even look over towards Beth, but it was clear her sweater was on and she was hiding herself from me. Fuck it. If she didn't want anyone to look, she shouldn't have worn the dress she did. The world was full of turtle neck sweaters. It was probably a good thing she hid herself because it took the remainder of the game for my erection to slowly fade away.

The game ended with Tom's team winning. It wasn't quite a shut out, but any win is a good win in hockey. I walked out to the waiting area, smiling and taking the congratulations offered from several parents. The joy of being a goalie parent is feeling like your son single handedly won the game, even though that isn't the case at all. The pain of a goalie parent was feeling like your son let the team down when they lose. It's a bi-polar life, so I was going to take the joy while I could.

Beth walked through the door following a running Max who was chasing his puck that he had just thrown across the floor. Emma was running after him, yelling.

"No Running Max! You'll fall!"

She was her mother's daughter. Beth and Frank slowly strolled down the hall, walking past me, all of us ignoring each other. I made my way towards the concession stand, knowing I had a good 10 minutes before Tom would be done in the locker room. Coffee in hand, I sat down and lost myself with a game of chess on my phone.

One by one, players began to appear. It was always an odd mix of both teams coagulating off the ice, having just spend the last hour and a half checking and hitting each other. Players that seemed so menacing towards each other now were returning to society and presenting their kinder, gentler selves to their parents. I stood up and walked over, not wanting to miss Tom as he was going home with Beth.

Beth and Frank were returning as well. Apparently there was some sibling disagreement, with Frank holding Emma, slightly teary. Frank was now doing his best to console her.

"Honey... Max didn't mean to hit you with the puck."

Hockey was not for those who could not take a hit, and Emma clearly couldn't. Max was paying no mind to anyone, still focussed on the puck on the ground. Beth approached, sweater held tight over her chest with folded arms. Max looked up, eyes apparently finding a target, and swung his stick hard. The puck sailed.

"Whoaa...Got it!"

Tom made a sudden appearance, stopping the puck. Max apparently spotted Tom as he approached behind us and was doing his best to score on his older brother. It was lucky that Tom did stop it, because if not, it would have hit a grandparent next to us. Beth was not happy.

"Alright...up we go...that's enough of that..."

With a swoop of her arms, Beth picked up Max. Her sweater burst open, no longer held in place. Beth's mom DNA was taking over, eliminating any care or concern about the world around her. Even prying eyes of ex-husbands. The impressive size of her chest was now more obvious standing 10 feet away as her breasts struggled to stay in her dress with a squirming 2 year old in her arms. I turned to Tom, trying to not stare at Beth.

"Nice game, Tom."

Max was yelling for his puck. Tom looked at me briefly, sensing he was being pulled in two directions at once.

"Thanks dad."

Turning, he gave the puck back to Max.

"Stoned ya, Max!"

Max held his puck, smiling in Beth's arms. But, before he could get into any more trouble with it, Beth plucked it from his hands. Max began to squirm, whining for his puck, twisting hard in Beth's hold.

"Tom, we need to get going. Say goodbye to Peter."

Max was struggling to find his puck. His hands were grabbing on the hem of Beth's cleavage, looking for leverage.

"Bye dad."

Tom moved away, walking with Frank who had already turned his back on me with Emma. With Max squirming, Beth had dropped the puck. I bent down instinctively to pick it up. Standing, I looked at Max as he strained towards me to get his puck back. His left hand reached out while his right gripped Beth's dress. I stared at Beth's large dark nipple, hormonal and exposed, as I handed Max his hockey puck.

"Here you go, Max..."

If I had any doubts about Beth's breastfeeding, they were now gone. In the brief half second exposure, before her mom reflexes quickly hid the exposure, my eyes took a snapshot. It captured the bulging blue veins that streaked behind the pale skin, pulsing with nutrients. The sheer white skin, almost virginal, with occasional black hairs sprouting. The dark, textured skin of Beth's areola, like a large anus in the middle of her chest. The puckered opening in the center of large nubs of flesh, clearly the place where her milk comes out.

"Christ, Peter, you fucking pervert..."

Dress back in position, Beth spun around and walked away. The show was quick but to the point. I looked around and apparently nobody else had noticed. My eyes returned to Beth, walking away in her blue flowered dress. I stared close, watching her ass sway gently. My erection and I wondered if she had any underwear on. Later that night, my erection and I watched the few videos I had of Beth without any underwear. Her nude butt on TV looked as good as I remembered, but I came to visions of her large ass walking away from me. I guess we want what we can't have.

...

When we first got divorced, it was a bit disappointing not seeing the kids every weekend. Over time, I learned to enjoy the downtime. I almost needed it, as most parents do. And, when my son became older and began enjoying video games, I found that the X Box One provided a direct, easy way to keep in touch. Over time, Saturday's became a day for Tom and I to battle each other in the game de-jour. These days, it was hockey.

I woke up Saturday and prepared for the day. Tom would text me when he got up, and generally, we played on the sly so that Beth didn't know. More than a couple times she made it clear to Tom that she didn't approve of us playing online. Not because she didn't want him to play, just that she didn't want him to play with me on her time. Thankfully, it rarely stopped him.

It was just after 11am when he responded to my text. Sure enough, when I zipped downstairs and got online, my X Box had a popup that let me know I had an invite. I joined the party and a small window in the top right opened up our video chat. Kinect was a wonderful thing, and with my headset on and mic ready, I gave him the usual pre-game verbal abuse.

"I hope you play better today than you did last night. Otherwise, it will be another easy win for me."

Ha. Not that I ever won. I couldn't remember the last time I actually outscored him in an official 3 period game. Tom sat back on a large, sectional couch with a stairway up from the basement off in the distance. It was the typical basement setup, with a slightly formal Martha Stewart vibe that Beth was known for. Feet on the stretched out on the large sectional couch in his morning pj's, Tom looked at his screen and laughed.

"Dad, I don't think you've ever won. I'll go easy on you today. I'll pick Columbus."

Time just seemed to slip by as we played. The quiet morning of coffee and video games was the perfect way to spend the weekend, and I could have done it all day. Which Tom and I often did when he was over for the weekend. There was no drama, no traffic, no disturbing news about the latest disgruntled person in society. Just a fun, father son moment on a Saturday morning.

"Tom!!"

Christ. Beth was yelling from the top of the stairs. The only person who could have ruined the moment was apparently up and about. I looked at my watch. Just past 12:30pm. It was early for Beth. Tom spoke quickly but softly.

"Shit. Mom's up."

Tom quickly scrambled with his remote, apparently wanting to hide any evidence that I was playing hockey with him as he ripped off his headphones. After what I assumed to be Tom shutting down his small chat screen, he yelled nonchalantly as though he was just playing a video game by himself.

"Down here mom!"

In the background, on my own small chat window at the corner of my screen, I could see legs walking down the stairs in the distance behind Tom on the couch. My eyes paused from the game, watching Beth reach the botTom of the stairs in a flowing white nightgown cut just above her knees. The appearance was a first for her and I was curious. She never came down to interrupt our morning games, instead always yelling at the top of her voice for Tom to head upstairs.

"Well, hey honey. I thought I was all alone."

My eyes stayed on the small chat session. Tom kept playing as Beth approached him, walking to the side of the couch. My eyes seemed to be playing tricks on me, imagining the shape and appearance of Beth's large breasts behind the white fabric. It was easy to let my mind wander, seeing just a small version of her. Tom spoke without looking at her.

"Where's Frank and the kids?"

Beth stared at the TV, watching Tom and I play. The more I looked, the more my imagination roamed. I was certain the darkness of her nipples were making an appearance. And, there seemed to be a distinct patch of darkness between her legs.

"They are at water wings for the morning and then Frank's stopping by his parents."

My eyes moved up and down the miniature version of Beth in her white nightgown as she looked at the screen. It Was as though she was standing there, watching me. Inspecting me as I inspected her. With my eyes focussed on Beth, Tom scored easily.

"Clapper!"

Beth jumped. As she did, the dark circles on her chest seemed to wiggle. It was beginning to seem that my mind wasn't imagining Beth's hormonal areolas. I toggled my remote, found the Full Screen setting for the video chat, and filled my 60" screen with Beth staring curiously at the TV. My imagination wasn't running wild after all. Beth stood before me in a silky thin, white, semi-transparent nightgown. Fuck, her entire body was practically on display, completely nude.

"Jeeze...Tom...what the heck..."

Beth's large, hormonal nipples stared right at me on top of her swollen breasts. The fabric of her nightgown, probably more appropriately called lingerie, was about 50% opaque. Which meant Beth was 100% on display. The large, heavy, hormonal bush that formed a full triangle between her legs. The soft swell of her hips, generating the voluptuous hour-glass shape of a nursing mother. The heavy thighs, bulky with the fat for milk stores. With her blonde hair on her shoulders and angelic face with deep blue eyes, Beth portrayed a perfect image for the greek goddess of maternity.

"Sorry...mom..."

Tom gave a glance at Beth, eyes taking in her midsection. With a facial expression of someone who is seeing something mundane that they have seen many times before, Tom returned his eyes to the TV. Mine stayed on the mother practically exposing herself to her son and her ex-husband. Beth's breasts seemed to be tucked into a sock made out of thin, white silk. Each boob strained against the fabric, desperate to free themselves. Beth's abundant cleavage made it seem like half of her breasts had already escaped.

Beth was never bashful about roaming the house in a towel, robe, or whatever her fancy was when we were married. Still, I assumed that she would become more reserved as the kids got older. Especially with an 18 year old son in the house. Apparently not. I marveled at the obscenity of her almost nude appearance in front of her son. Beth might just be acting in her simple, maternal capacity. But I was now fully aroused by the display.

After a brief pause by the couch, Beth's bush began to approach the TV. I stared as the folds of her vagina began to make an appearance between her legs, soft fabric doing nothing to hide Beth's womanly treasure. The X Box Connect camera was at the perfect height as it sat just below the tv.

"Well...this has to go off..."

With her birthing hips and pubic hair filling up my HD screen, I spoke instinctively.

"X Box, record."

A small message appeared indicating I was now recording my ex-wife as she turned off Tom's TV mid video game. A tragic event for any teenager. Tom was beside himself as Beth turned her semi-exposed vagina away from me and towards her son. My eyes locked on the soft, wide bottom now smiling back at me. Beth's ass was perfectly visible, back dimples and all.

"MOM! Come on! I was in the middle of a game!"

Beth put her hands on her hips, legs slightly apart. Dark hairs hung between her legs and a small tuft barely visible where her anus hid between the round globes of Beth's ass. I wanted desperately to walk up, spread her ass, and stare at the puckered brown opening that was always off limits during our marriage. "That's for pooping" was her common response. Luckily, she was never able to say it when she had too much to drink.