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My heart was ready to explode and Mom looked like she was about to faint. I squeezed her hand reassuringly and got out of the car, shaking hands with Sam and the ADA. I helped Mom out of the car and we all walked into the house. I don’t quite understand how I was holding things together, but I think it was because I could sense how close Mom was to losing it. I had to be there for her, so I sucked it up and did what I needed to do.

I went to the kitchen and got glasses of water for everyone. Sitting in the living room, I waited for Mr. Marquand to begin, certain my beautiful, perfect world was about to end. I was devastated, but determined not to give anyone the satisfaction of a reaction.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Marquand began.

“I’m here as a matter of professional courtesy,” he stated brusquely. “At the moment, this conversation is off the record. I will tell you frankly that if I had my way, we’d be downtown in an interrogation room right this minute. I’m meeting with you here, now, as a personal favor to Mr. Schiller.

“But make no mistake,” he warned, “If the answers I get from you today are not satisfactory, if I think you’re holding out or evading me in any way, we WILL be taking that trip downtown immediately.”

Pausing, the ADA looked at Mom intently and spoke again. ” The District Attorney and the DEA are curious as to how you are acquainted with one Anton Dobriynin, otherwise known as ‘Vanya.’ You were seen during a surveillance operation of his place of business. You should know that Dobriynin is a known gangster, active in money laundering, drug running and human trafficking.”

It took a moment for those words to register. DEA? What the fuck…? If the DEA was involved, then this had nothing to do with Mom and me. That meant that we were okay. We were okay! Hot damn, we were OKAY! I wanted to turn handsprings. I wanted to kiss Mom right in front of Sam and Mr.Marquand. I felt alive again for the first time in days.

The significance of the ADA’s question wasn’t lost on Mom either. She allowed herself a small smile and then relaxed, leaning back into her chair.

“A few weeks ago,” she began with a deep breath, “I was contacted by a certain Mr. Washington, a potential new client for our firm. The services he required from us were potentially very lucrative for the firm, perhaps has much as 700 billable hours a year, probably around a quarter million dollars, annually. Naturally, I was interested, but there was something about the questions this man asked, something about how he conducted himself, that made me a bit nervous. I immediately discussed the situation with our senior partner and he agreed that before we took on Mr. Washington’s business, that we should do some checking for our own protection.”

“After that, I contracted Mr. Schiller’s services to do some checking on our potential client. I contacted Mr. Washington and told him that we were willing to consider him, but that our usual policy was to discuss large, new contracts at the board level prior to formal acceptance. I told him that we would be doing so within the next few weeks and he seemed satisfied with that assurance.”

“Subsequently, Sam was able to determine that there were…irregularities in Mr. Washington’s background. Through Sam’s contacts, we got information that the person we were interacting with was probably using an alias. We were doing the last bit of fact checking when Sam took us to Brighton Beach. He’s the one who stumbled onto your presence there.”

“Why was your son with you?” ADA Marquand asked pointedly. “He has no connection to any of this.”

“It’s true,” I interrupted, “But I do know a bit about what’s going on. How could I not, with Mom meeting with Sam several times at home? I wanted to be there to protect Mom. Sam wasn’t happy about that, but I made him take me, against his better judgment. That’s all on me. Knowing what I do now, I guess neither Mom or me had any business being there.”

“I have a reputation for being thorough, Mr. Marquand,” Mom added. “In retrospect, I probably had enough information to drop ‘Mr. Washington’ before then. Getting that last bit of intelligence was probably not a good idea. I hope we didn’t compromise anything you’re doing,” she said contritely.

“Well,” Mr. Marquand said heavily, “Nothing substantive, except about a hundred man-hours of extra investigative time checking you guys out, which I can’t get back. Your appearance was unexpected and perplexing, but what you are saying jibes with what Sam has told us, along with the files Mr. Briggs turned over to us. My advice to you is to stay on your side of the street in the future, Ms. Lindermann. Corporate and criminal law are not things that someone in your position should try and mix. Once you were reasonably certain that ‘Mr. Washington’ was a dodgy character, you should have given us a head’s up.”

“I think it’s safe to say I’ve learned my lesson,” Mom smiled. “I don’t plan on troubling you any further.”

Mr. Marquand shook our hands briskly and departed, with Sam staying behind, explaining, “My car’s around the corner.”

Sitting heavily in our La-Z-Boy, Sam regarded us seriously.

“This is partly my fault. I should have done things differently, insulated both of you more from the process. Anyway,” he concluded, “It’s all behind us now.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he produced two Canadian IDs. “I was able to get these done by a different route. They aren’t as perfect as what I had originally planned, but they should pass muster,” he concluded, handing them over.

My nom de deception was one Richard Lewis, of Selkirk, Manitoba, while Mom was Regina Worthington, from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

“I still don’t know what your game is,” Sam said quietly, “But I have an idea. I’m not sure I approve, but it’s really none of my business. I’m not here to pass moral judgments. You’re both good folks and entitled to your privacy, so we’ll leave it at that and I’ll say good bye.”

With that, he rose and let himself out, slipping quietly out of our living room and lives, an enigmatic and inscrutable man to the last. We never heard from him again.

Mom and I simply sat on the sofa, numbed by the turn of events. I’m not sure how long we sat there in silence, perhaps a half hour. We were both exhausted at that point and good for absolutely nothing. Eventually we made it upstairs and into bed, just holding each other. Mom shivered in my arms for over an hour before she finally fell asleep and I wasn’t much better off.

Around five in the morning, we both woke up and made love until sunrise. It was simple, joyous and cathartic, leaving us pleasantly drained but rejuvenated and finally purged of the toxic events of the past weeks.


Mom was subsequently able to back check our new IDs in her own fashion and pronounced them sound. Then we applied for my passport. Mom felt that she was unlikely to ever need her ID and simply put it away for safekeeping.

The day I finally got my passport, we heaved a huge, collective sigh of relief. To celebrate, we went out for dinner and dancing that evening, returning to the supper club where I took Mom for our first “date.” Mom again wore her red sequined evening dress, while I was attired in slacks, tie and a blazer. As she descended the stairs to the living room, I let out a wolf whistle. “Mom, I can’t get over how good that dress looks on you! I love everything about it and what’s inside it.”

Smiling wickedly, Mom slowly pirouetted in front of me. Abruptly, she bent slightly at the waist, thrusting her bottom towards me at the same time. She pulled the hem of her dress up to expose her silky red boy shorts and warbled, “Boo-boop-de-doop,” in a high squeaky voice, doing her best Betty Boop imitation.

Gliding up to me, Mom stepped into my embrace, sliding her arms up my back and around my shoulders, rubbing her breasts against my chest. Tilting her head up, she gave me a lingering kiss to still my laughter, tongue dancing against mine as I responded in turn. “Mmmmm, thanks Ricky. I always like to look my best for you.”

“Mom, if you wore a burlap sack and Depends, you’d still be the most gorgeous, sexy woman in the world.” I dropped my hands to her ass giving each cheek a good, thorough groping. Reaching up under the hem of her dress, I stroked the crevice between her marvelous cheeks and slid my middle finger forward to lightly caress her slightly moist slit.

Batting my hand away with a laugh and a slight shudder, she chastised me, “Enough, you maniac! There’s going to be order and sequence to this evening, young man. I am looking forward to Sorvino’s veal piccata – it’s almost as good as yours. I’m also looking forward very much to an evening of dancing with my handsome husband-son, so don’t think you’re going to distract me with your sweet words and roving hands. After that, then we’ll fuck each other senseless, but not until then.”

“Ah, well” I conceded. “You can’t blame a healthy, horny young fella for falling for your considerable charms though, can you?”

Linking her arm in mine, she steered us through the kitchen and into the garage. “Behave yourself and I’ll share a surprise with you a little later,” she said, as I handed her into the car.

Our drive to Sorvino’s was uneventful, Mom snuggled under my arm, her hand casually resting on my thigh as we wound our way through the countryside to the supper club. She let her dress ride up as we drove, exposing an amazing pair of low rise, red satin boy shorts to match her dress. Catching me glancing at her crotch several times, she smiled and ruffled my hair. “Eyes on the road, lover. You’ll get my goodies soon enough.”

“Who’s teasing who now, Mom?” I laughed, returning my concentration to the street.

Once we arrived, I handed the car off to the valet, who ogled Mom with ill-concealed lust as I helped her out of the car. Taking her arm in mine, I escorted her into lobby. “I don’t think I’ll tip that guy,” I declared grumpily as we walked. “I don’t like other men trying to look up your dress, although I suppose I can’t blame him – you look ravishing this evening, Mom.”

“My, my, aren’t we the jealous one tonight,” Mom teased. Her hand tightened on my arm and she pecked my cheek. “I like it, sweetheart.”

As we approached the welcome podium, I sought out the Maître d’, slipping him an Andy Jackson and requesting a secluded table. He was more than happy to comply, his eyes discretely but appreciatively flowing over Mom’s form as he accepted my inducement. We ended up in a booth in the far corner of the dining room, essentially out of view from the other tables, but with clear access to the dance floor. When Mom slid into her seat, she opened her legs wide, giving me a huge beaver shot, as she grinned wickedly. The sight of her silky panties tightly stretched over her mons had me riveted to the spot. I could clearly see the outline of her labia, her curly pubes spilling out on either side of the small strip of cloth, a hint of dampness on the shiny fabric. I was fully erect in a flash.

“You’re a sinful woman, teasing your date like that.”

“A lady needs to keep her beau interested and attentive, though, don’t you think?”

“Keep that up and ‘interested and attentive’ will turn into bending you over the table right now and boning you in front of the orchestra.”

“I could always ‘accidentally’ spill a glass of ice water into your lap, if that would help.”

“No thanks, I think I’ll do my best to suffer in silence, ” I retorted as I slid in next to Mom.

Slipping my arm around her shoulders, I kissed her cheek. “Shall I order a split of champagne to celebrate?”

“Nothing for me, love. I’m on the wagon for now.”

Always slow on the uptake, I didn’t understand why Mom would refuse, as champagne was one of her favorite tipples. A lack of comprehension must have been clear on my face, because she added, “I’ve been skipping breakfast this past week, because I’ve been pretty nauseous every morning.”

Light slowly dawned on marble head and then it hit me like the proverbial runaway train. “Oh. My. God. You’re pregnant? You’re really, truly pregnant?”

“You’re gonna be a poppa, Ricky,” she said, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes.

Drawing her to me, I showered her with kisses, lips, cheeks, forehead and lips again. I started to get choked up myself. “Oh, Mom, I’m so happy! I love you so much!” I gripped her shoulders, staring at her, grinning like a fool. Taking her in my arms, I kissed her again, soundly, tenderly and passionately. She melted against me, lips parting, a soft moan escaping as our tongues found each other. Our embrace was interrupted by the waiter, diffidently clearing his throat. “Pardon me. Can I take your order?”

Somewhat miffed at his bad timing, I responded rather curtly, “Sorry, we haven’t even looked at the menu yet. Can you give us a few more minutes?”

After the waiter departed somewhat huffily, I kissed Mom again. She snuggled against me, holding my hand. “You’re truly happy, Ricky?”

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” I whispered, my voice tight with emotion. “My beautiful mom is my lover, my woman and mother to our child. I can’t imagine anything more wonderful.”

“I went to see my OB this morning.”

“Everything’s okay?”

“Yes, Ricky, just fine. Dr. Stern was a little surprised I got the ball rolling so quickly, but I did tell her at my last visit that I had found my man and wanted a child with him. She did want to do an amniocentesis on account of my age, but that was one thing that definitely wasn’t going to happen,” Mom said flatly and decisively.

“I told her that we were carrying this pregnancy to term, and that our child would be loved as well as anyone could possibly do, regardless of any potential difficulties.”

Mom then cast a slightly apprehensive look to me, asking, “You do feel that way don’t you, Ricky? We are taking a risk, you know, actually a pretty big one if there is a problem with the baby.”

“I know, Mom. We didn’t really talk about it before, since we both wanted it. But yes, I have given it a lot of thought. I looked up a few things on the web, but a most of the genetic stuff was pretty technical. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but the upshot was that there are some increased risks, but they aren’t hugely elevated, just some. Mothers and sons and fathers and daughters have higher risks than brothers and sisters or cousins, but the odds still favor us.”

“Bottom line, pretty lady, is that I’m with you all the way,” I declared decisively. “I could never terminate one of our children, even if I knew there were going to be issues.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Ricky,” Mom said with obvious relief. “I was pretty certain I knew how you felt, but I needed to hear it from you anyway.”

“Sooo, that being the case, I have another little surprise for you,” she said, reaching for her purse. She pulled out a black and white Polaroid snapshot and placed it on the table between us. “This is from my ultrasound today. That gray, pear-shaped thing is my uterus. That little stripe in the center is the lining of the womb. See that little circle inside the lining, with the little squiggle in it? That’s our child.”

“Wow, that’s so cool. What’s that other thing next to it? It looks the same.”

“That’s our other child, Ricky.”

I think if I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have passed out. I knew we both wanted children very much and had been trying nearly every night (and some days too) to bring this about, but twins? I could only shake my head in wonderment.

As we sat, holding hands and basking in the glow of our wonderful news, I leaned over to whisper in Mom’s ear. “We’ve been fucking too much. If we hadn’t been so horny all the time, we’d just have a simple, single pregnancy.”

Mom laughed delightedly and elbowed me in the ribs. “What is this WE business? I’m a victim of your insatiable desire and perpetual erections. This is all your fault, you oversexed brute!”

“Riiiight…and Anna Nicole Smith married J. Howard Marshall for love,” I retorted.

“Anyway, you know very well that’s not how it works. Besides, if your reasoning was correct, I’d have at least quadruplets, you randy boy!” Sidling closer to me, Mom ran her hand lightly over my crotch, giving me a gentle squeeze. “I’ll give you fair warning, bucko. When I’m pregnant, I’m the insatiable one. I hope you can keep up with me. I’m going to need your fine cock at least twice a day when my hormones start ramping up.”

Shivering briefly with anticipation, I changed the subject, gesturing to the menu. “Are you going to introduce the twins to the veal piccata?”

“You betcha. What about you?”

“I think I’ll take your warning to heart and start with some carbohydrate loading. ‘Linguine Tutto Mare’ for me. How about we begin with some antipasti?”


The meal progressed in leisurely fashion, Mom and I sitting close to one another, exchanging occasional caresses under the table and many sweet, lingering kisses. As we were enjoying our entrees, the band members and singer filed into the room and began preparing for the evening’s music. I turned to Mom and took her hand. “Would the lovely lady care to dance?”

“Let me powder my nose first, darling. I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, standing by our table waiting, I saw Mom walking towards me. Watching her stroll across the dance floor, I thought I detected a more than usual sensuous roll to her hips and a certain seductive quality to her gaze as she came towards me. I don’t think I was imagining it, because she was turning heads among many of the other diners as she made her way to our table. I actually saw one beautiful brunette licking her lips as Mom went by her. When she reached me, she slipped her arms around me slowly bringing them up my back and around my shoulders. Squeezing me tight, she gave me a deep kiss, tongue lightly teasing mine. “Your mother is always ready to dance with her handsome son,” she whispered in my ear. “You can have this dance and all the dances after this one, for the rest of my life, lover.”

Taking both her hands in mine, I backed out onto the floor, drawing her with me. As the singer began, I knew immediately that we were in for a special evening. A statuesque black lady of around 50, dressed in a floor length, sapphire blue evening gown, she exuded class and sophistication and her opening number promised a wonderful evening’s entertainment. Beginning with “Skylark,” the Hoagy Carmichael/Johnny Mercer classic, she immediately reminded me of Dianne Reeves. “Skylark” became “Straighten Up and Fly Right,” which in turn segued into “I Concentrate On You.” Mom and I were lost in the music and wonderfully sung lyrics, slowly swaying with each other, in contact from thigh to shoulder as we moved. I was hard as a piece of rebar, but curiously, I really wasn’t feeling any urgency about it. I was glad Mom could feel my excitement, but I was into the moment, holding her close, intoxicated by her presence and the familiar, comforting smell of soap and sandalwood.

Slipping my hand from her back and placing it under her chin, I gently tilted her head to me for a kiss. “I love you so much, Mom. I never thought I could be any happier, now that we’re together, but after today, knowing you’re having our babies – I just don’t have the words.” She sighed and hugged me closer, resting her head on my chest. We floated along on our private cloud, savoring our closeness without words, our universe again collapsing down to just the two of us, caught in a timeless moment. We barely noticed when the band and singer took a break. Forty-five minutes had passed in the blink of an eye.

Reluctantly making our way back to our table, we sat, holding hands. The remains of our entrees, now long cold, held no interest for us. Sighing, Mom snuggled up next to me. “I don’t want the evening to end, Ricky.”

“Let’s have a little dessert while the band breaks and then we’ll dance the rest of the evening away, Mom.”

“Nothing would make me happier, darling.”

We shared an indecently delicious Zabaglione with fresh figs and honey-glazed chestnuts, the decadent and sensuous dessert whetting our appetite for more dancing. As we regained the dance floor, I drew Mom close, making sure she could feel my hardness as we swayed together. Discreetly slipping her hand between us, Mom lightly stroked me with her fingertips. “Mmmmmm, are you happy to be with me, son, or did you slip a cannoli in your pocket while I wasn’t looking?”

“Well, it’s not a cannoli, Mom, but it does have a creamy filling just for you,” I whispered lewdly.

“Goody, more dessert. I can’t wait.” As she spoke, she maneuvered us towards the farthest, darkest corner of the dance floor. Taking my right hand, she placed it on her ass as she pressed even closer to me, canting her pelvis to rub against my hardness. As I caressed her marvelous bottom, it became apparent that she had taken off her panties.

“It looks like you did more than powder your nose, you naughty girl,” I growled, as my cock surged in my pants. “I thought you wanted to dance the night away, dear lady. Do you intend to tease me the rest of the evening?”

“I want to be in your strong arms and next to your wonderful cock every minute, sweetheart. Besides, a little anticipation will make the main event that much sweeter, don’t you think?”

“Well, I think two can play the teasing game, especially since I now have my ‘all access pass,’ ” I whispered evilly.

As I spoke I slowly lifted the back of her dress, taking care that I was between her and the rest of the room. Running my hand along the satin smoothness of the back of her thigh, I raised it to the soft, slightly puffy junction at the crease of her left cheek and then grazed my fingertips upward and inward until I encountered her damp heat. Lightly caressing her lips, I sought her dewy portal with my middle finger. She stiffened slightly as my digit wormed its way into her oily center, cooing into my ear.

“God, Mom, you’re soaking, so wet and hot,” I whispered hoarsely.

Her breath catching in her throat, she murmured back, “You’re being very naughty, young man, taking advantage of your mother this way. What if someone sees your finger in my pussy?”

“I think if you knew someone could see it, you’d come right on the spot, you shameless hussy.”

“Mmmm, could be. I think I have a little exhibitionist streak, Ricky. I really turns me on doing this – I love feeling so naughty,” she replied, thrusting herself back on my intruding digit. Her knees buckled slightly as she moved against me. “God, I love how you touch me, son,” she groaned.

“You like naughty, Mother?” I rasped quietly. “I’ll give you naughty.”

I moved my finger in and out of her vagina with several rapid strokes, causing her to gasp in pleasure, her arms tightening around my shoulders. Slowly, I inserted my finger as far as I could and then withdrew it slowly. Mom made a small murmur of protest as my fingertip departed her slit and then shivered, as I trailed it along her perineum, coming to rest against her rosebud.

Lightly pressing against her anus, just scratching the surface, I whispered to her. “What do you think the people here would say now, Mom? Bad enough that you let your son finger your pussy in public. What will they say when I stick it up your gorgeous asshole?”

Mom’s arms tightened around my shoulders and she brought her lips to my ear, whispering throatily, “My son fucks me. He’s made me pregnant. His finger has already been in my cunt in public. What’s a little cornholing on the dance floor after that?”

As she spoke, I began worming my finger into her tight, rubbery sphincter. Her eyes widened in surprise and pleasure and she jerked and grunted softly as I progressed up her back passage, burrowing her head against my shoulder. “I think I’ll finger you this way until you come, dear Mother. No one can see what I’m doing. Do you want to come on my finger, Mom?”

“Ohhh, god Ricky, what you do to me! It feels sooooo nasty, sooo gooood. I can’t believe you’re doing this, putting your finger in my bottom!”

Slightly raising the front hem of her dress, I slipped my knee between her legs, bringing her divine fulcrum into contact with my thigh. “I’ll take that as a yes, my beautiful cum slut.” I began moving my invading digit in earnest, continuing to describe how I thought the restaurant patrons would react if they could see us.

“They’d love seeing you give your ass to your son, Mother dear. I bet the men would take out their cocks and stroke them, waiting for you to come, so they could spurt too. Then there’s that lady with the long brown hair in the other booth. She was actually licking her lips when you walked back from the bathroom. Do you suppose she knew you’d taken you panties off for your horny son?”

Mom’s breaths were now coming in short gasps as I thrust my finger in and out of her sweet back passage. She was grinding her dripping cunt against my thigh, her juices soaking through my slacks. “I bet that lady wants you as much as the men do, Mom.” She gasped as I said this, arms tightening around my shoulders.

Continuing, I teased her some more. “I think she’d play with herself too, as she watched me finger your asshole. I bet she’d sit at the edge of her booth and pull her skirt right up to her waist. Then she’d pull her panties to one side and stick her fingers into her cunt. She’d be absolutely dripping, looking at us. Then she might decide to stick a finger up her own ass, to feel just what you’re feeling right now,” I hissed.

With those last words, Mom exploded, arms clutching me tightly, grunting as her rectum contracting around my finger like an elastic nutcracker. She finished her cum rocking her pelvis in short, jerky strokes against my thigh, saturating the fabric of my slacks. She moaned and bit my shoulder through my blazer, her legs going almost completely limp. With her clinging to my shoulders, her entire dead weight threatened to topple me, but I managed to maintain our balance, carefully holding her up as I moved us back to our booth.

Gently depositing her in her seat, I moved next to her, taking her into my arms. Her breathing was still ragged and her eyes were hooded with lust. Her thighs were damp with her spending, her brow glowing with a light sheen of perspiration and she gave an involuntary tremor from time to time. In her post-orgasmic state, she was unbelievably gorgeous, a perfect carnal vision. Once again, my heart nearly burst with my love for her.

I stroked her hair and face, occasionally kissing her while whispering sweet endearments in her ear, as she gradually recovered her composure. As she came back into focus, she looked at me in incredulity, struggling to find her voice.

“Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. You are such a baaaad young man, talking to your Mommy that way. Those things you said, my God! I could have come just from your words, let alone those wonderful, nasty fingers. I think that was the most wicked thing I’ve done in my entire life!”

“Do you know the best part, Mom? No one else in the entire restaurant had a clue.” I paused to take a sip from my water glass. “Ready for some more dancing?” I teased.

“Are you out of your mind, Ricky? After that last stunt, if you get me out there again, I’ll end up doing a reverse cowgirl on you in the middle of the floor, audience be damned!”

“That would be so hot, Mom, but might be a just little ‘over the top’,” I quipped.

Mom snorted in amusement at my bad pun and snuggled in closer to me, her hand gliding over my aching crotch as she whispered. “It’s time to take your mom home and fuck her, darling. If I don’t get you inside me soon, I’m gonna scream.”

“Mmm, I like that thought, but I don’t think I’m just going to fuck my Mom, though. I think I’m going to make love all night to the mother of my children. Either way though, when I’m through, you’ll know how much I love you, Mom.”

“You’re such a sweet talker, you know that? Just one thing, though, what do you mean when you’re through with me? Is that a challenge?”

“The gauntlet has been cast, dear Mother. We’ll see who keeps up with who tonight, that’s a promise.”

I slapped my money down on the table and we hustled out to the front entrance. It was all we could do to keep from fucking each other in the entryway. The valet seemed to take forever and when he arrived, I fairly threw a couple of bills at him as we hustled into the car. I might have tipped him two bucks or two hundred, I simply don’t remember.

The trip home from Sorvino’s was incendiary. The minute we pulled away, Mom had her skirt up around her waist, fully exposing her womanhood. I don’t know if it was our escapade on the dance floor, the knowledge that Mom was now carrying our children, or both, but we couldn’t take our hands off of each other on the way back. I had my fingers in her sopping pussy in about 2 seconds flat.

By the time we were back on the outskirts of our town, Mom’s breasts were bare and flashing in the moonlight as she sucked my cock and simultaneously fingered herself. The interior of the car was thick with the aroma of her arousal. I couldn’t take any more and was afraid I was going to wreck the car and kill us both. I pulled into the darkened corner of a Tops supermarket parking lot just before I blew my load into Mom’s waiting mouth.

Catching my breath, I shuddered as Mom continued to lick my cock clean, the head exquisitely sensitive. “God, Mom, you do me so good,” I sighed. “Your mouth is incredible.”

Mom lifted her head from my crotch, a small pearl of cum on her chin as she smiled at me. She placed her hands around my neck and drew me to her for a passionate, tongue-lashing kiss, sharing my taste with me. “We need to get home now, darling. If we don’t get to our bed in 5 minutes, I won’t be responsible for my actions – and the best criminal attorney in the world won’t be able to save me.”

Mom never bothered to put herself back together as we drove the final miles to our house. Had anyone looked into the car, they would have seen my mother in all her bare-breasted glory, nipples erect and chest flushed with all-consuming arousal. As we made our way home, she idly stroked her nether lips, occasionally inserting her finger and then feeding her nectar to me as we drove.

Fortunately, our often balky garage door opener worked perfectly in our time of need. By the time it was shut behind us, we were all over each other again, virtually tearing our remaining clothes off of each other, leaving a trail of cum-stained and sweaty garments behind us as we stumbled to our bedroom.

Once in our room, Mom wasted no time on preliminaries. Pushing me onto my back on the bed, she straddled my hips and took me in her hand, swabbing my glans through her lips several times and then impaling herself on my hardness in one plunge, groaning as I split her steaming, oily center. “Oh yes, son, so nice, Ricky.”

You would think that after fucking our brains out continuously for weeks that we might have slowed down just a little bit, but we were still on fire for each other. I was absolutely stupefied by how much she turned me on.

Every inch of her skin, her nipples, the swell of her breasts, their mesmerizing pendulous movements as she rode me, the glorious golden reddish color of her thatch, the small involuntary moans as she moved up and down on my cock, the sheen of her juice on my shaft, her flashing eyes and lustful smile as she looked down at me, they all excited me beyond measure. She was everything I would ever desire, Eurydice, Helen of Troy, Madame de Pompadour, Isolde, Josephine Baker, Guinevere, Aspasia, Lola Montez and Marilyn Monroe all rolled into one package, but most of all, above all else, she was my Mom. I’d never, ever get enough of her.

As she moved herself on me, she threw her head back, hands scrabbling on my chest as she grunted with each downward plunge onto my waiting shaft. “Unnhhh. God, Ricky, your cock feels so good. Unnhhh. I love how you feel inside me. Unnhhh. So hard. Unnhhhh! So deeeeep! Unhhh!”

She gradually leaned forward, dipping her chest towards my own torso. With each movement, her stiffened nipples would scrape across my chest, driving me wild. As she would slide back down to my root, she mashed her sex against me in a dragging motion, stimulating her clit. Gradually, her pace increased, her hoarse endearments morphing into incoherent moans and sibilant sighs. Soon, she was riding me so rapidly I gave up trying to synchronize with her movements, letting her pound herself to glory. Very shortly, her eyes rolled back into her head and she slammed herself down on me, grinding so ferociously I thought she would push me through the mattress. Letting out a groan of inarticulate pleasure, she collapsed onto my chest, breathing in agonized gasps, our love sweat mingling, her arms and legs sporadically twitching.

It had taken all my effort not to climax with her as I felt her contracting around my own aroused flesh, but somehow I managed to hold off, reminding myself that I wanted to be the one doing the wearing out this evening. I think I must have bitten the inside of my cheek to distract myself, because I could taste blood on my tongue. Holding Mom close, I stroked her back and sides, kissing her gently as she slowly returned to reality.

“Ahh, Ricky, that was soooo good! Two months together and you’ve ruined me – nobody makes love to a mother like her son can.”

I kissed her and brushed her hair from her forehead. “There’s nothing in the whole world I like more than giving you pleasure, Mom. It’s what I live for. I can’t believe how lucky we are.”

“Believe it, lover. As ecstatically happy as you’ve made me these past weeks, now I’ve gotten the best gift you could ever possibly give me, Ricky. Whenever I look at our children, I’ll see us; our love, our dreams and our future. There’s nothing that can top that.”

“Well, I hope I can muster at least a few surprises for my mother-lover as time goes by.”

“You’re already the biggest surprise of my life, my lovely son. I love you so much, Ricky,” she said, eyes moistening. “Woman to man, wife to husband and most specially and deeply, mother to son. I need you more than my next breath.”

I smiled and kissed her soundly. “I’m glad the lady of the house finds my service satisfactory. I do aim to please.”

She laughed and tweaked my nose. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? Now, let me up – I need to pee. After that, I have another surprise for you.”

She walked into the bathroom, hips swaying, thighs slick with juice and ass cheeks dimpling. I heard the rushing tinkle of her water in the toilet and then the sounds of rummaging in her medicine cabinet. She returned after another minute or so. My curiosity definitely piqued, I watched her expectantly as she came back into our bedroom, hands behind her back.

Blushing slightly, she gazed at me affectionately and cleared her throat hesitantly. “Ricky, son, I have a gift I want to give you. I’ve been saving it since our first night together. It’s something special that I’ve never given to anyone else and I want you to have it.”

Mom had joined me on the bed, looking at me nervously. Taking my hand, she pressed a small bottle into my palm. Glancing downward, the name on the label did not register at first. Then, I finally processed what I was looking at. “Astroglide.” I was truly taken aback, hardly daring to believe what she was trying to tell me.

“Jesus, Mom – do you really mean it? Are you sure about this?”

Gulping once, she nodded. “It’s yours, sweetheart. I want you to have it all, every part of me. I won’t deny you anything, ever. I want you to have it. God help me, Ricky, I want you to fuck my ass.”

My own throat suddenly dry, I could only nod.

“Ricky, you have no idea how much it meant to me to know I was your first, that you saved yourself for me. I’ll treasure that as long as I live. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“I’ll be really, really careful Mom. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I want you to love this too. Are you really sure?”

“I know you will, sweetheart. But yes, I’m absolutely sure – I trust you completely. I love your fingers and tongue back there already. I think I’ll like your cock even more.”

Crawling up next to me, she got on her hands and knees, lowering her shoulders and head on the pillows. Moving behind her, I placed myself between her legs. I began to gently caress and kiss her wonderful, taut moons, drawing a slight moan from her as I worshiped her amazing ass. “Ahhh, Mom – you are so beautiful, so sexy,” I sighed.

Exhaling as I went, blowing warm air over her crevice, I slowly trailed my tongue down her crack, pausing from time to time to lick and kiss her cheeks, occasionally scraping my teeth lightly over her amazing globes. As I slowly worked my way to her pucker, she shivered slightly.

Finally, I was there. I gently spread her cheeks and began with the lightest kisses, barely grazing her sweet rosebud. Teasing her perineum with my tongue, I traced back to skirt the edges of her pink crinkle, never quite dipping in, while I pulled and stretched her buttocks, causing her anus to slightly open and close as I spread her with my hands.

Mom cooed and sighed as I continued, slightly pushing herself back to my face, trying to capture my tongue. Lifting my head slightly, I placed my tongue at the top of the divine valley between her cheeks and slowly trailed downwards, Mom shuddering and sighing as I went. When I reached her forbidden hole, I pulled her cheeks apart and stabbed firmly with my tongue, swirling as I pushed into her back passage.

Mom jerked at my oral invasion and moaned. “Oh God,” she groaned. “Why do I like your tongue there so much?”

Pausing for a moment, I grabbed the lube and squirted some on her crack, letting it slowly trickle down to her little pink star. Putting my hand on her ass, with my fingers pointing to the floor, I placed my middle finger in her crevice and slowly moved downward, coating it with lube. When I reached her back door, I slowly pressed inward.

“Ahh, that feels so nasty, so good, baby.”

Gently moving inward, I began to press around her outer edges, lightly stretching as I moved in and out. Mom responded with a throaty moan. Gathering more lube, I ran the liquid down her crack again and onto my fingers. I then slowly added a second finger, gradually easing it into her ass over the course of a couple minutes. Mom sighed and groaned again when I had both fingers fully in her butt. Slowly, cautiously, I began to move in and out, gradually adding a stretching movement to my thrusts. Mom was now moaning with each thrust, starting to move herself back against my hand, increasing the force of my naughty invasion of her most private place.

Stroking her back with my other hand and kissing her shoulder, I whispered into her ear. “Are you ready, Mother?”

Fully immersed in the forbidden sensations, she could only moan and nod her head once.

Pulling my fingers out, I could see she remained open to me, small, involuntary contractions causing her hole to slightly widen and narrow as she awaited my entry.

Crouching behind her, I lubed my cock. Mom shuddered and moaned again when I squirted a generous dollop into the nickel-sized cavern I had worked open. Carefully placing myself at her crinkle, I brought only the slightest pressure to bear. Caressing her back and sides again, I bent forward next to ear. “Relax and push yourself onto me, Mom. I’m going to let you take me at your own pace.”

Shuddering, she nodded jerkily and began to push backwards. I felt the pressure build against the resistance of her ass. Mom was holding her breath, quivering and biting her lip as she strained to let me in. Again caressing her lightly, I whispered “It’s okay, Mom. Just relax. Take some slow, deep breaths. There’s no hurry,” I soothed.

As she calmed down, I continued to touch her gently, simply stroking my hands up and down her back and sides, murmuring encouragement. Then quickly, it was over, Mom wincing slightly as my head slipped past her sphincter.

The sensation was indescribable, incredible searing heat, even more than her glorious cunt, but also an amazing tightness beyond anything I had ever experienced. I don’t think I could have fisted my cock any harder than Mom’s ass was gripping me. It was all I could do to hold still, waiting for her to accommodate me.

She was breathing in deep gasps, trembling a little bit as she adjusted to my presence. Bending over her back to kiss her spine, I caressed her sides again. “Don’t do anything until you’re ready, Mom. Go as slow as you need to. I won’t move unless you tell me to. We can stop any time you want.”

Still breathing deeply, she shook her head, biting her lip. Ever so slowly, she began to push back, millimeter by millimeter. It took about two minutes, but finally, I was buried to the root in her gorgeous, amazing ass, realizing one of my fondest dreams and biggest fantasies. “Oh my God Mom, you feel amazing- so hot, so tight!” I gasped. “Are you ok?”

“Oh, baby, it’s unbelievable! Ahhhhh, I feel so full, so stretched…I had no idea it would be like this. It hurts just a little, but even that feels so good!”

“Are you ready?”

Mom reached back with one of her hands and took mine, giving it a squeeze. “I’m ready, lover. It’s time to fuck your mother’s ass.”

I began to gently move, keeping very slow, steady strokes as Mom got used to the motion. Within a minute she was moving with me, giving out a low, primitive grunt each time I bottomed out, a sound I had never heard her make before.

“Oh fuck, lover! Oh Jesus, it’s incredible! My God! My God!”

The sensations I was experiencing were so amazing I could barely focus. I was overwhelmed by her heat, the tightness, the incredible noises she was making, the sheer lewdness of the act we were performing. I was fucking my mother’s ass! I was balls deep in her and she was loving it! All I could do was moan over and over again.

“Oh Mom, oh Mom! Oh my God, Mom! MOM!”

I couldn’t help myself; I began to pick up my pace, putting more power into my thrusts as I started to feel the beginnings of an absolutely monstrous come building in my loins. When I changed my rhythm to pull out completely with each cycle of penetration, grinding tightly against her at the bottom of each stroke, Mom went absolutely wild.

“Oh shit, Ricky! Unnghh! Oh my god! Fuck me baby! Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Fuck it!” she moaned, burying her face in her pillow. “Fuck it! Fuuck it! Fuuucckkkkk!!!”

It was all too much for me. My orgasm shook me like a sonic boom. “Oh God! Oh GOD! Cumming! Cumming, Mommmm!” I roared.

As I sprayed myself into her entrails, Mom’s head jerked off the pillow and she arched her back, unleashing a stentorian bellow as she reached her own peak. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! OH SHIT! SO GOOD RICKY! CUMMING, SON! MOMMY’S CUMMING! OHGOD! OHGOD! SWEEETJEEESUS!”

As I was spending myself, Mom’s climax made her ass contract around my meat like a velvet vise grip, bringing me to a completely shattering peak. I lost all track of time and place, because the next thing I remember is being draped over Mom’s back, pressing her flat into the bed. My cock was still twitching randomly, dribbling out the final dregs of my cum into her clinging rectum. My body shook as though a Taiko drummer had set up shop inside my chest, my breath coming in great, ragged gasps as I struggled to reestablish my grip on reality. Mom was completely inert beneath me. I could still feel a few weak contractions of her ass around my cock as her orgasm slowly faded away.

I carefully rolled us over onto our sides, staying inside Mom, remaining tightly spooned up against her, hugging her close. A minute or two later, she finally stirred and I kissed the nape of her neck. “You okay, Mom? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Oh, my baby, my darling son, you were wonderful,” Mom sighed. “That was amazing…I had no idea, not a clue how intense that was going to be. It felt like your cock reached to my tonsils, I was so wonderfully full! And when you came inside me, my god! It was heavenly, sweetheart.”

“And you’re feeling okay now?” I asked anxiously.

“Better than okay, dear heart. You were so gentle, so caring, it was perfect. I was pretty sure I was going to enjoy it, but it was much, much better than I thought it would be. You’re a marvelous, sweet lover, son. I love you so much!”

“I’m so glad you liked it, Mom,” I murmured into her hair. “It was incredible for me too. I came so hard I think I passed out for a minute.”

“I hope you liked it as much as I did, sweetie, because Mommy is going to want to do this again…and again… and again!”

“Works for me, pretty lady.”

Spooning up against me, Mom heaved a deep, contented sigh. “You know Ricky, I was ready to do this, knowing how much I like it when you lick and finger me, you know…back there, but I didn’t expect to come from getting fucked in the ass. That was amazing and very unexpected; I just thought I was going to do something nice for my lovely son.”

“I was surprised, too. You rattled the china with that one, Mom.”

We lay together quietly, touching softly, Mom turning her head to share kisses with me as I slowly softened inside her, eventually squeezing out with a plop. She squealed as I left her. “My god, Ricky! What did you do to me? It feels like you put a quart of your stuff up my bottom! It’s running all over the place!”

Looking down, I saw one of the most erotic sights I have ever beheld, then or in all the years since. Mom’s thighs and buttocks were glistening with the lube we used. Her rosebud was red, still slightly open, streamers of my thick semen pulsing out and flowing over the curve of her buttock and onto our sheets. “My god, Mom! I can see it coming out of your ass – it looks sooooo hot! It’s incredible. I wish you could see it.”

I stayed spooned up next to her, wet spot be damned. We lay in silence, softly touching for some time. I suspect that we both more drained by the experience than we thought, because we fell asleep quickly, not waking until the next morning. So much for the “who’s gonna out-fuck who” competition.


As I was to come to find out, Mom’s hormone-driven lust was awesome to behold. She left me in the dust as her pregnancy advanced, needing sex two, three or even four times in a day as her belly grew. She ran me delightfully ragged. On weekends, especially, it wouldn’t be uncommon to wake up with Mom riding me. Another session might follow in the kitchen at lunch or even at breakfast. It didn’t seem to matter what we did, Mom just needed cock constantly, and she didn’t care what hole got stuffed. When she needed it, by God, she needed it NOW and there was going to be no dithering or delays.

If I was lucky enough to catch a Saturday or Sunday nap on the couch, more often than not I would wake up with her dripping pussy rubbing on my face. Oh yes, another thing about being pregnant – her taste, my god, her taste. It was always ambrosial to me, but there was something about her now that seemed different. I don’t know if it was real, or just my knowledge of her pregnancy, but somehow, she tasted more substantial, more flavorful than I could remember before. It was the difference between a great burger and prime rib.

Even she would remark on the difference when we would kiss after I went down on her. Thank god I loved eating her out, because it was the only way I could keep her satiated sometimes. The thing was, even though Mom often pushed me to the limits of my sexual endurance, I loved every second of it. I don’t know exactly how or why, but there was something about her being pregnant that put my dick and brain in overdrive. I had to have her all the time. I became absolutely consumed with fucking her, as if I wasn’t already completely besotted by my gorgeous mother. It seemed as though if I didn’t have her pussy plugged every minute, she wouldn’t be pregnant any more. It was a magnificent, complete and total obsession.

The times when Mom was at work all day were often particularly memorable. On those occasions, her return home followed a fairly predictable pattern. She would arrive in the garage and close the door, emerging from the car with her panties in hand. I would meet her in the hallway connecting with the kitchen. My pants would come off in about one minute, and depending on the urgency, we might end up on the hallway floor, in the kitchen, or rarely, making it to the bedroom. Depending on her mood, I might get a whisker biscuit as my before-dinner appetizer in the kitchen, or something more exotic.

I recall one day where she emerged from the garage actually naked from the waist down, her thighs glistening with arousal. Plastering herself against me, she whispered in my ear “I want you to love my bottom, right NOW, baby.” She pulled my shorts off without ceremony and led me by my dick into the kitchen. Not wasting a moment, she rummaged in the pantry, pulling out a bottle for lubrication and bent over the kitchen table, lewdly spreading her cheeks with both hands. The irony of using “extra virgin” olive oil as I fucked her ass was not lost on me. But I digress.


We were so preoccupied with extinguishing the raging inferno between Mom’s legs that the visit to Vancouver snuck up on us. Archibald MacLeish was as good as his word, setting us up with First Class tickets flying out of LaGuardia and a suite at the Fairmont Pacific Rim, with a magnificent view overlooking Coal Harbor, Stanley Park and the North Shore Mountains. I remember teasing Mom as we were riding in the van to the airport, breathing softly into her ear, “Are you going to be able to make it all the way to Vancouver without needing an orgasm?”

Mom smiled evilly and gripped my thigh. “Go ahead smart-ass, keep it up and I’ll make you eat those words,” she whispered back.

“Keeping things up is usually not a problem and I’ve already eaten everything else I can, so it shouldn’t matter.”

“That you have. I can’t believe you had your head up my dress five minutes before the van arrived.”

“There’s always the mile high club, Mom.”

“You are a very bad son, teasing your mother like this,”

I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close for a kiss. “I’ll make it up to you with pleasure when we get to the hotel, my love.”

“You’re cruel, but for some strange reason I happen to love you, Ricky.”

Our flight was pleasant and uneventful, but I did have a few things on my mind, which we talked about before we landed.

“Mom, are you worried about us, I mean me meeting Mr. MacLeish and the rest of the firm?”

“Absolutely not. Why? You worried about the age difference?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t want anything to happen that might endanger your chances.”

“I suppose if you did me by the punch bowl at the welcome party, that might have some adverse consequences, but otherwise no. You’re a sweetheart for worrying about it, but I’ve made my choice. Everything else has become secondary to us being together, lover. Besides, now that you’ve grown out that goatee and mustache, you look quite a bit older.”

“You really like it, Mom? I have to say it still feels a bit funny.”

“You look like my dashing pirate, Ricky. It suits you down to the ground.”

“If milady is happy, then I’m prepared to repel all boarders and tie this damsel to my mainmast.”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“Anyway, not to worry,” she smiled, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “As far as Archie MacLeish is concerned, I’m moving to Vancouver with my significant other. I’ve told him I’m estranged from my only son, who I had at a young age. That’s all there is to it.”

We sat in silence for some time, Mom’s hand on top of mine, lightly tracing over my fingers. Before long, we were on final approach and my face was glued to the window. For a kid from suburban New Jersey who was never much farther from home than the Adirondacks or Cape May, it was a revelation. Sitting on a large peninsula, the city laid jewel-like below us. The air was crystal clear and all of the features I had studied on maps before our flight were laid out before us as we turned through the approach pattern. I could see Burrard Inlet, Bowen Island, Vancouver Harbor, English Bay, Stanley Park, the tall downtown buildings, Canada Place and the beautiful mountains along the North Shore.

“Wow, Mom, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“It’s a far cry from Princeton Junction, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe we’re going to raise our family here. It’s just about the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

A driver was waiting for us at baggage claim and we were whisked to our hotel suite in short order. The moment I had closed the door behind the bellhop, Mom pinned me against the entry wall with a searing kiss, frantically fumbling with my belt as we clinched, devouring each other with our tongues. While I pulled her dress up and cupped her ass cheeks, she shoved my pants and boxers down to my ankles and then squatted, pulling away from my hands. She took me into her mouth, hoovering me to an almost painfully full erection in about 30 seconds.

Looking up to my face as she sucked, her eyes glinted mischievously as she smiled happily around my cock. All too soon, her skilled tongue and hands had me approaching the edge and I gently disengaged from her, taking her hands and guiding her to the bedroom. Still smiling wickedly, she paused and reached under her dress to pull off her panties, then pushing me onto my back as my knees came in contact with the bed. As I landed on my back, she hiked her skirt up above her hips to expose her hairy treasure and straddled me, working he way up my chest until her moist cunt was right above my face. Dropping her skirt to enfold me in aromatic darkness, she settled her flower onto my waiting tongue.

“Do what you do best, sweetheart,” she cooed. “It’s time to eat your Momma.”

As Mom rode my lips, I grabbed her ass, kneading her cheeks, pulling them apart to expose her pucker and then pushing them back together, which drove her wild. I could tell she wasn’t particularly interested in nuance or subtlety at this point, so I latched onto her clit and began sucking and tongue-lashing it ferociously. At the same time, I formed my hand into a “six pack grip” with my thumb and middle finger, firmly placing the thumb into her sopping channel. As she began to edge closer to her climax, I began using the middle finger to tease her anus, lightly scraping over the surface with my fingertip. This raised her arousal to an even higher plateau. When she started to buck and gasp, I roughly shoved my middle finger up her ass. With a keening wail, Mom craned her neck and arched her back, slamming down on my face with a drawn out groan, flooding my nose and lips with her essence.

Mom coming on my face is just about my favorite sexual experience, bar none. The sheer intimacy of the contact, the feeling of worshipful closeness and the incredible intensity of her orgasms when I eat her always make me feel incredibly close and connected to her. It’s one of the best ways for me to let my beautiful lady know how much her son loves her, concentrating solely on her pleasure. Flowers for Mother’s Day are just fine and dandy, but a big, juicy squirting cum on her son’s tongue says ‘I love you, Mom’ like nothing else. When Mom climaxes in my mouth, it really gets my motor running too. I was immediately and ferociously turned on, ready to fuck the daylights out of her.

Not even bothering with our clothes, I slid out from under her and turned her onto her stomach, roughly pulling her dress up over hips. I quickly jerked my slacks and boxers down to my knees, got onto my haunches and straddled her thighs, pushing them together as I mounted up over her ass. Pushing down from behind, I found her slit, forcing myself in quickly and sharply, drawing a guttural grunt of approval from her. While I can’t get as much penetration from this position, I love the feeling of mastery and dominance of pinning Mom to the bed and really grinding it to her, especially watching her magnificent ass shiver and quake as I slam her like a jackhammer.

Mom was getting into it just as much as I was. She began meeting me with short, sharp lunges of her own, first pushing her pubes down into the mattress to stimulate her clit and then quickly rolling her hips back and up to meet my downward thrusts. When she started to get vocal, I knew I was in for a hell of a ride.

“Oh yeah, Ricky, that’s it baby. Take me son! Do me hard!”

I slapped her ass hard, leaving a rosy palm print on her buttock.

“Fuck, yes! Slap me again, you bad motherfucker! Yeah! Fuck Mommy! Fuck your Mommy hard, baby!”

Growling, I began stroking into her even more intensely, adding a twisting motion to my thrusts, making her groan even more loudly.

“Ohhh, shit! That’s so good, baby! Give me that cock! Shove it in my tight pussy. Yeah, put it to me, honey!”

I was dripping with sweat, pounding for all I was worth. I had never fucked her as hard as I was doing now, but the more I put into it, the more she wanted.

“C’mon, Ricky, fuck your mother. Give me all of your big cock, baby. Harder! Fuck me hard, son! Haaarrrder!” she hissed.

I was close, real close. I could tell by the way my balls were tightening, and the ache of my prostate that I was going to have a monster cum. I think Mom could sense from my breathing and rhythm that I was ready to explode.

“Are you gonna come, Ricky? Are you ready to squirt your hot baby juice in Momma’s cunt? C’mon, baby, cum for your Mommy, cum for me now, lover! Squirt me honey! Squirt it in Mommy!”

That put me over the top. I released with a roar, crying out over and over as my climax blended with her own.


I felt like my cock had turned into a fire hose. I couldn’t believe how much spunk I was spraying into Mom’s cunt. I must have gone on shouting and squirting into her for twenty or thirty seconds, my pleasure incredibly prolonged. Finally, I felt as though I had shot my entire insides out through my cock and into her. I collapsed on to her back with a groan, shuddering and twitching uncontrollably.

After several quiet minutes gradually catching my breath, I rolled us onto our sides, still spooned up against her, kissing her back and shoulders tenderly, whispering in her ear.


“Mmmmmmm, what is it, love?”

“That was unreal. You are so exciting, so damn sexy, I just can’t believe how much you turn me on. You are a fucking goddess!”

“You’re a darling boy. Is that a goddess of fucking, or just fucking as an adjective?”

“Both, I think.”

“You say the sweetest things to your mother.”

I squeezed her and kissed the nape of her neck. “I love you so much, Mom.”

I couldn’t see, but I could sense her smile as she took my hand and kissed it.

I can’t even begin to imagine being with any other woman besides Mom. I have to admit since she is my first and only lover, I have no basis of comparison, but whenever we’re together, it’s never less than fantastic. Every time, I seem to find out something new about her that excites me more than the last time or makes me feel even closer to her. It might be how she milks me with her muscles in a particular position one day, how her breasts gyrate when she rides me cowboy style, or something very simple, like how she smiles and puffs her bangs off her moist forehead, out of breath after a really vigorous, sweaty fuck. There’s always something that makes me love her more every day we’re with each other. And now, to be starting a new life together, far from discovery, free from needing to keep secrets every day, everything felt perfect.

Before we left for our visit to Mom’s new practice, I overheard a conversation she had with Marsh over coffee on a Monday morning. Mom and I had spent essentially the entire weekend in bed, making lots of love and just plain fucking the shit out of each other until we were exhausted. Marsh had just returned from a weekend visiting Shawn. I guess the two of them were comparing “son-notes” over latte. I quietly and discreetly parked myself outside the kitchen doorway, shamelessly eavesdropping.

Marsh began, teasing Mom. “You look a bit tired and frayed around the edges, Jen. It must have been a really good weekend.”

Mom chuckled and gave back as good as she got. “I could say the same, skin sister. It looks like it hurts to sit down.”

“God, you have no idea. For some reason, Shawn was totally fixated on my butt this visit. He fucked my ass three times yesterday, and I loved every second of it.”

“Jesus, Marsh, you’re a total maniac. I adore it when Ricky does me that way, but I don’t know if I could stand up to that much pounding.”

“Well, most of the time, Shawn is just so sweet, so tender it almost brings me to tears. But sometimes you know, a girl just likes to get down and be totally nasty,” Marsh giggled. “This weekend, I really wanted to get thoroughly fucked, to be absolutely dominated for some reason. Totally giving myself to him like that was actually liberating, in a strange way. I felt like I was all cunt, ass and tits, just one huge erogenous zone. There was something about the role reversal that really got my juices flowing, Shawn becoming my badass, big-dick, dominating daddy.”

“I know what you mean, Marsh. Ricky is almost telepathic that way. I hardly ever have to tell him how I want it. We’re almost always in synch, and even if we’re not on exactly the same page, he loves it when I tell him what I need.” I heard her sigh deeply. “He’s the best lover I’ve ever had, or ever will have.”

I blushed so hard when I heard Mom say that, I thought that the glow would shine through the doorway and give my spying away. It also made me swell with tremendous pride, both above the neck and below the beltline.

“Amen to that, Jen. How did we get so lucky?”

Mom paused before replying, considering her words. “For me, it was because I was finally able to be totally honest with myself about my desires and being open to accepting the love that Ricky had for me for so many years. It was incredibly hard to do, so many feelings of horrible guilt and sin to overcome. I worried terribly about how it would affect him and our relationship. It took a long time to understand that it was all bound together and inseparable, both the mom-son thing and a man just loving a woman.”

Mom laughed ruefully and added, “I practically drove that poor boy insane with my indecision. You know, from the first time I kissed him, I mean like I really meant it, to when I first let him touch me, uhmm, down there, it took over a month. Then the very next day, when he actually got assertive with me for the first time (that’s when you almost discovered us), I chewed his poor head off and nearly ruined everything. Thank God I came to my senses after you talked with me. I should have known I was trying to control an essentially unstoppable event.”

“Wow, I had no idea, Jen. I can’t say I’m surprised though. It’s such a deep-seated taboo, I think especially for someone like you, who was such a conscientious and loving Mom. I know you definitely did the right thing, though. You and Ricky are so beautiful together, so loving and so right for each other. It’s a pure joy just to see the two of you side by side.”

“Thanks, Marsh, but I don’t know about conscientious. I think I first started thinking about Ricky, you know, that way, when he was still in high school. He’s always been such a sweet boy and pretty hunky too,” Mom giggled. “How was it for you and Shawn?”

“Really, really different at the start, although I think we’ve ended up in the same place as you and Rick.”

“Did it take you as long to figure out what to do?”

“No, we went from mutual interest to bed very quickly.”

“Wow. I wish I had your decisiveness, Marsh.”

“You know, in the beginning, Shawn was actually trying to seduce me,” Marsh confessed, her voice barely audible. I had strain my ears, almost cocking my head into the door frame to hear her

“No!” Mom exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

“Absolutely, my girl. He had a plan all mapped out with meticulous care, with alternate strategies and detailed contingencies. Damned if it wasn’t working, too. Shawn may look and act like a self-conscious computer nerd sometimes, but when he was trying to get into my panties, he was masterful. I guess he was highly motivated,” Marsh laughed.

“What did he do, Marsh?”

“It was subtle, indirect and simple, but devastatingly effective. He treated me with real respect, affection and kindness, things I never got from Harold while we were still married.”

“I think he launched his assault on Mommy’s virtue near the beginning of his senior year, just after he turned 18. One day, he just came home from school and gave me a big hug and kissed my cheek, something he rarely did since he hit puberty. He said, “Mom, did I ever tell you how much I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me, or how much I really love you?”

“I just laughed and hugged him back and said ‘No, not recently and no, you can’t have the car tonight.’”

He got real serious then and told me “I mean it Mom. I’ve been thinking a lot about things recently and I know I’ve been taking a lot for granted. I just don’t want to do that anymore. And no, I don’t want the car tonight.”

“Seems innocent enough, Marsh.”

“Oh, yes indeed. It didn’t think twice about it, except that it absolutely made my week. You know how it is, when you finally realize that the day your little boy is going to walk out of your life and into the big, bad world is coming soon. Right then, I felt closer to him than I had in years. It was precious.”

“After that day, it slowly and seemingly naturally escalated. He spent a lot less time on his computer or out with his friends and more time just sitting with me, talking. He asked my advice about a lot of things and really listened to what I had to say. He always made a point to compliment me on my appearance. At least of couple of times a day, he’d give me a big hug, ‘Just because,’ he’d say. I started to get a nice kiss each morning when he left for school and when he came home. I came to really look forward to those moments, they made me feel so good about myself and about our relationship.”

“I know now in retrospect, I was subconsciously starting to respond to him as a woman, too. I didn’t see it at the time, but that clever so-and-so had found the chink in my maternal armor. Without really thinking about it, I began dressing a bit more provocatively, nothing outrageous, but definitely a notch more suggestive than before and I definitely was fishing for compliments, which he very happily provided. He made me feel sexy and desirable again and boy, oh boy, did that feel nice.”

“After that, things started to get more intimate, not in any obviously inappropriate way, just closer. He started giving me foot rubs a couple times a week. I felt so pampered, it was wonderful. We’d sit on the sofa in the evening and I’d put my feet in his lap. He always made sure that my feet were a chaste distance from his crotch and then he’d do my lower calves and feet, never getting fresh. Things started to change though, one time when he did my feet for almost an hour. By the end, he was just caressing me, again no higher than my calves, but I found myself responding to him. I actually got wet from him touching my legs and feet, Jen!”

“Did he notice, Marsh?”

“At the time, I didn’t think so, but looking back, I think I was excited enough that he could smell me. Things didn’t go any farther that evening, but the next day, when he left for school, he kissed me on my lips!”

“My God, what did you do?”

“I was so surprised, I couldn’t do anything. Besides, it was so quick, he was gone off the porch before I could respond. I just stood there on the stoop like an idiot. My first thought after he left was that we’d have to talk and nip things in the bud immediately, but as I was sitting, drinking my coffee a little later, I began to think, ‘What’s the harm in a little peck on the lips from your handsome son, who obviously loves you very much? He’s just showing you a little extra affection, showing how much he cares about you.’”

“So, there you were, on a very slippery, very treacherous slope,” Mom observed.

“And how. While I was finishing my second cup, I began thinking again about the foot massage he gave me before. Damned if I didn’t get wet all over again. This time though, it wasn’t just a little juiciness, it was a goddamn river. I soaked through my panties in about two minutes! By then I knew I had to take care of myself or I’d be good for nothing the rest of my day. I was incredibly horny and at the same time pissed off and guilty, having gotten excited by the memory of my own son touching my stupid feet. So, I went upstairs to get out Mr. Big.”

“Mr. Big?” Mom snickered.

“Exactly, Mr. Big. Eleven by three inches of vibrating, pulsating, pussy stretching, high tech silicone goodness, my go-to toy when I really need to get off big time.”

“Jesus, Marsh,” Mom giggled.

“Anyway, I stripped and got down to business. I slipped off into my favorite Fabio fantasy, which never fails to get my rocks off, but I found I couldn’t come! It was crazy! There I was, spread-eagled in my bed, with my number one sex toy buried to the hilt in my cunt, my favorite fantasy in my head and I couldn’t get off. I kept working at it but I just hovered at the edge forever.”

“Then it happened. I was flat on my back, pounding my poor pussy for all I was worth, sweating like a piglet, getting absolutely nowhere and then out of the blue I thought of Shawn on top of me.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yes, Jen. ‘Oh my God.’ Actually, ‘OMFG’, as the kids like to say.”

“I went off like a bomb in less than ten seconds.”

“Jen, I climaxed so hard I saw stars! It was flat out one of the very best orgasms of my entire life. It must have stretched for nearly two minutes – it was like huge waves crashing on the beach, one after another. My whole body felt like a puddle of molten gold. It was so intense I thought I peed the bed.”

“God Marsh, you’re starting to get me worked up now. Take it easy,” Mom pleaded.

“I was absolutely out of my mind with lust at that point. Mr. Big was gone for good, forever replaced by lovely Shawn. My son substitute got a workout, I can tell you – mouth, cunt, ass, everything. I went for several hours and was practically unconscious by lunchtime. Every time I came, it was better, more intense than the last. I was actually screaming at the top of my lungs into my pillow by the end. I’m sure if the neighbors had heard anything, they would have thought I was being murdered.”

“When I came to my senses, I had to run to the toilet to throw up. I was almost suicidal with guilt. I curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and was probably catatonic for at least an hour. After that I drifted around the house in a naked daze, crying my eyes out. All I could think about was fucking my son – my pussy was dripping like a faucet and at the same time, I was consumed by remorse. It felt ten thousand times worse than when I found out Harold was cheating on me.”

“Boy, do I ever hear you, Marsh. The first time I actually admitted to myself that I wanted Ricky, I felt like throwing myself under the bus. I thought I was a complete pervert, a horrible mother and an evil human being. Thank God I got through that.”

“You have to get over a lot to get to where we are Jen, but in the end there’s nothing like it in the whole world.”

“Amen to that. So, there you were, struggling,” Mom prompted.

“Yeah, I was feeling lower than whale shit,” Marsh laughed. “Eventually I found myself in Shawn’s room, trying to understand how my world got so suddenly and thoroughly turned upside down. I tried to reestablish some maternal perspective by straightening up his teenage clutter a bit. I’m not sure how I expected to do that, standing there nude, dripping fuck oil on his carpet, but it seemed to make sense at the time. Anyway, when I was tidying up his desk, I jostled his computer and the screen saver went off.”

“When I saw the incest forum he was logged into, I lost it. I went from abject misery to steaming rage in two minutes.”

“Jesus, Marsh. What did you see?”

“His screen name was ‘wantmysexymom18.’ There was a lengthy thread he started about two months previously, soliciting advice on how to get into my pants! God, I felt so stupid. Everything was a setup. He wanted to fuck me and used the information other boys gave him to weaken my defenses. There seemed to be at least two other kids who had actually pulled it off, seducing their moms, and I could see that he had followed their recommendations almost to the letter. He was posting almost daily, outlining his progress, right down to describing how he rubbed my feet for the first time.”

“Right about then, I was so humiliated, I think my heart broke. I was ready to disown the little shit and throw him out of the house the minute he got home. I had never felt so used in my entire life. It was nothing short of emotional rape.”

“Wow. How on earth did you get from there to where you are now? If Ricky had pulled a stunt like that, I would have fed his dick to the ducks and killed him – twice.”

“Funny how these things work out, isn’t it? I was ready to throw his computer out the window, but I forced myself to finish the thread. The last response to his thread was from a few days before, from someone called ‘lindalovesherboy.’ It just said that she had a relationship with her son and that she wanted Shawn to PM her right away.”

“It took a little while to find his correspondence with this woman, but when I did, it changed everything all over again.”

“Jeez, Marsh, what a rollercoaster! Don’t keep me in suspense, out with it, girl!”

I could hear Marsh take a deep breath. “This woman gave Shawn a detailed, emotional account of how she came to take her own son as her lover. She was a widow, her husband killed in the first Gulf War, serving with the SEAL teams. He was a bona fide hero. It was a beautiful story, heart wrenching and inspiring at the same time, in some ways like yours and Ricky’s. From how she wrote, you could just tell how much they loved each other, man and woman, son and mom, how committed they were and how much joy they had in their lives.”

“She was very direct about what she thought of the way Shawn was manipulating and misleading me, how selfish it was. She asked him bluntly if he was after a quick roll in the hay, or whether he wanted something like what she had with her son. She begged him to think things through before the situation got to the point where there was no going back. She seemed genuinely concerned that he not damage our normal mother-son relationship. She also had some very good advice for him about the ins and outs of a real romantic mother-son coupling and how wonderful it could be if he was willing to commit to something like that.”

“Shawn wrote her back, somewhat defensively at first, but ‘linda’ was persistent and non-confrontational and gradually got him to ‘fess up about how all this came about. For the first time, I really saw myself though my son’s eyes. The poor boy had the hots for me so bad, it was almost comical. He could describe my body in great detail, the sneak, and he was so worshipful, so enthralled by this middle aged broad, it was sad, funny and so sweet, all at the same time. The way he described me, I could tell there was more to it than just testosterone overload. At a minimum, he was totally infatuated, that was for sure.”

“‘Linda’ gradually got him to open up about his feelings for me. God Jen, it was intense, like eavesdropping on a weird Oedipal therapy session. Shawn eventually admitted that he was starting to get uncomfortable with how successful his campaign of seduction had become, that he felt very, very guilty. It was clear that he didn’t count on his engineered and calculated intimacy affecting him in any way. He was so in lust, he didn’t realize the fire he was playing with! The real emotions that came with his little game totally blindsided him.”

“Their last correspondence bowled me over. He came clean with ‘Linda,’ telling her how he felt and that he now actually had really, unintentionally fallen in love with me. He admitted that he couldn’t go forward with his plan! He said he couldn’t live with himself if I found out how he had duped me. He was going to talk to me very soon and confess everything, come what may. He thanked ‘Linda’ profusely for saving his bacon and our relationship and he asked if he might ask her son a couple of questions, if he was willing.”

“Jen, I’ll never forget her reply,” she sighed, choking up. “She said ‘I wish with all my heart you could talk with him, but he died in Afghanistan eighteen months ago. He followed in his father’s footsteps. There are no words for how much I miss him. Love your Mom as best and honestly as you can, young man. Your time with her is very precious. Don’t waste a minute of it.’”

“Good Lord, Marsh, that’s unbelievable. What did you do next?”

“I had another good cry and then took a nice, hot bath. I thought long and hard about everything that had happened and I came to the conclusion that I would wait and see what Shawn said when he got home. If he followed through like he promised ‘Linda,’ I would work things out with him. If not, well, I didn’t want to think about that. I prayed that he would have the courage to do the right thing. I knew if he did, then we could heal the breach between us. Then I went back to my bedroom and got out Mr. Big again and gave myself another shattering orgasm, thinking about Shawn the whole time.”

“Good grief, Marsh, you were soooo, bad,” Mom laughed.

“Yes I was, wasn’t I? ‘Linda’s’ parting comments really struck home with me. Who could say if I might blow a cerebral aneurysm tomorrow, or if Shawn might have some kind of accident? What Shawn did was incredibly stupid, but he paid a high price before he even had a chance to touch me. He didn’t count on an emotional boomerang. He outsmarted himself!” Marsh hooted.

“So what happened when he got home?”

“I had to wait a long time. He came back unusually late, almost 5 o’clock. I was starting to really worry – ‘Linda’ and her final PM were really weighing on my mind at that point. I was terrified that Shawn didn’t feel that he could face me – that he’d run off or something. You know, a mother’s typical worrying. Anyway, he eventually dragged his sorry ass through the door into the kitchen. He looked like hell.”

“It was hard to keep a straight face while I pretended to scold him for not telling me he was going to be late. When I finished I asked, ‘Well, where’s my kiss? Don’t you love your mom?’”

“God, Jen, you should have seen how his face fell! It looked like he was going to throw up any second. He swallowed very hard and pecked my cheek and I said ‘That’s more like it, but I think you can do better, especially after the past few days.’

“He sat down, and stared at the table top. He couldn’t bring himself to look at me. He said we had to talk about what was happening before, that it wasn’t right what he had done.”

“I came right back at him with ‘I liked it, and it sure seemed as though you did too.’

“I remember exactly what he said to me then, Jen. He looked me straight in the eye then and said point blank, ‘This is so hard, Mom, but I’ve got to tell you something before I go mad. Do you know I’ve been trying to seduce you for the last several weeks? I wanted to have sex with you, Mom.’”

“I nodded and looked straight back at him and just said ‘Yes, I know, son.’”

“The poor boy just lost it at that point. He sat there with tears streaming down his face, saying he couldn’t understand why I didn’t hate him, why I didn’t disown him and throw him out of the house, what a terrible person he was.”

“I told him that what he tried to do was the most monumentally stupid act of his young life, but what he was now experiencing was what happened when naive young men tried to play high stakes, grown up games with their mothers. I said he could have very easily destroyed our relationship for the rest of our lives. Then I dropped the bomb on him.”

“I told him ‘linda’ gave him some priceless counsel and the only reason he wasn’t walking down the street with his suitcase in hand was because he was now being totally honest with me and that he was smart enough to have followed ‘linda’s’ very good advice. He just sat there with his mouth hanging open. I got up then and hugged him and told him it was okay, that I forgave him, because he was still my son and I still loved him very much.”

At this point, Marsh broke down a little bit and apologized. “Sorry, Jen. I still get very emotional when I think about that moment. You’re the only person I’ve ever told about this. You have no idea how much it means to be able to talk with someone who understands what I went through.”

“Nonsense, Marsh. Skin sisters, remember? It’s a privilege to hear this from you. Now, here’s a Kleenex. Relax a bit and then you can finish the story.”

After a couple of minutes, Marsh gathered herself and continued. “I told him how I came across his nasty little forum and how I read everything in the thread and with ‘linda,’ and how that made me feel. After that, I needed to get Shawn settled down so we could talk some more, so I did what mothers always do to get their sons back on an even keel.”

Mom laughed delightedly. “You fed him!”

Marsh began laughing too. “Yup. I fried up a couple of steaks, baked some potatoes and made a salad. I even let him have a beer.”

Mom was still chortling. “The one page men’s maintenance manual. Feed me, fuck me, let me sleep in.”

“Yes, but that’s getting a little ahead of the game.”

“What happened next?”

“I fed him his dinner and just sat with him and was good old comforting, reassuring Mom, trying to get him out of his hurt puppy mode. He seemed to be more relaxed after he wolfed down his supper and it looked like he could hardly believe that the sky hadn’t fallen. I got him up from the table and went into the family room and sat him on the sofa.”

“I put myself right next to him, our legs touching and said ‘Cards on the table time, Shawn. Can you be totally honest with me again?’ For a minute, he looked like he was going to bolt out of the room, but then he settled down. ‘I just have a few more questions and then we can put this all behind us, okay?’

He seemed relieved to hear that and he said to go ahead. ‘Those things you said to ‘Linda,’ about being ‘in love’ with me as a woman, are they really true?’ He was having a hard time speaking at that point, but he nodded ‘yes.’ ‘Do you still want to sleep with me?’ Again, he nodded ‘yes.’”

“Then I asked him to think very carefully before answering my next question, which was ‘How do you think I feel about you right now, as a son and a man? He said he thought that I was probably very disappointed and disgusted.”

“‘What if I told you that your little game had its desired effect on me, that I was seriously considering become intimate with my own son?’ I asked next.”

“He said, ‘I don’t think I could ever believe that, after how I behaved.’”

“Do you think now that you’re going to fuck your mom?”

“He just shook his head. By now he was getting close to tears again and my heart went out to him. He was really in agony.”

“I took a deep breath at that point and jumped off the cliff. I told him, ‘Well, you’re going to have to revise your thinking on that point, because I want you now too, Shawn. You’re not going to fuck your mom, but you are going to make love with her, starting right now.’

I took him by the hand then and led him to my bedroom. As we were walking up the stairs, I kissed him and said ‘The world is a cruel, uncaring and uncertain place, and a son’s time with his mother is precious.’”

“God, Marsh, what a story! You were so brave, I can’t believe it! I could never have handled that the way you did, not in a million years.” Mom paused for a moment. “How was it, that first time?” she whispered.

“Shawn was awkward, over-excited and clumsy,” Marsh giggled. “But it didn’t matter, it was still perfect. He only lasted about a minute, but then I was right there with him. When he came inside me, that first time, it was indescribable. I went off like a kilo of C4 and scratched his back bloody. That cum made everything I did with Mr. Big earlier that day seem like a fart in a wet paper bag, I’m telling you. He was ready to go again in about two minutes (God, aren’t young men wonderful?) and did a little better technique-wise, but still needed some encouragement and coaching. Even so, I came just like the first time the minute he creamed me again. I couldn’t believe how that set me off.”

“We did it three more times that night and it just got better and better. By the time we finished around four in the morning, I was a goner. Never in my life, ever, had I been fucked like Shawn did me. Everything he did, I could just feel this incredible combination of amazed adoration and blazing lust absolutely radiating from him, like a sexual blast furnace. I have never felt so completely and totally loved and desired in my whole life, Jen. That night, he truly gave me his heart and I felt the same way about him. I haven’t looked back since and have not had even one minute of regret.”

Marsh’s voice dropped to the point where I couldn’t hear her any more and I could tell she and Mom were whispering something to each other, giggling. Then Marsh spoke up in a normal voice.

“Why don’t you come in and sit with us and hear the rest of the story, Rick?”

I stepped into the kitchen, wearing a shit-eating grin and throbbing erection, both Marsh and Mom smiling at my discomfiture. Mom grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to her side.

“Ricky, you are sooo busted!”

“Guilty as charged, Mom. Am I grounded?” I asked, slipping my arm around her shoulders.

Marsh smiled and got up to freshen her cup of coffee, pausing to kiss my cheek.

“It’s perfectly okay, Rick. I would have told you the story anyway, if you hadn’t already been around.”

Seating herself again, Marsh smoothed her skirt and sipped from her mug. I sat down next to Mom, pulling her out of her chair into my lap, her arms around my neck as she settled in. Marsh smiled as Mom got comfortable. “I just love looking at the two of you together, Jen. It helps keep me sane when Shawn can’t be with me and reminds me how lucky I am.”

“Anyway, to continue. The next morning, I called the school and put Shawn in as sick for the rest of the week. We ate, napped just a little and made like minks for three days straight. By the time the weekend rolled around, we were both so tired and sore, we slept for almost eighteen hours. The rest of the weekend, when we weren’t making love, we talked about the future.”

“There was a boatload of stuff that had to be worked out. We had to deal with our commitment to each other, what we expected and the ground rules now that we were together. The only time I got upset was when Shawn said he wanted to change his college plans and stay local to be with me. It was so sweet and downright stupid at the same time, it made me want to cry.”

“I took a deep breath and told him to bear with me, because I was going to have to stop being his lover for a minute and go into ‘mom mode.’ I said that a young man with his abilities simply did not walk away from early admission and a full ride at Tech just to get laid more often, regardless of how much he loved his girl.”

“I explained that I wanted us to be together for the long haul, but that he was still young and had some more maturing to do and that being away at college was essential for that. It was so hard, but I told him I couldn’t see any other way to test and strengthen our relationship, to make sure it would last. I knew I was taking a risk that he might find someone his own age, but I didn’t see any other way around the problem. So, we agreed that he would go to Tech and I would go see him every other weekend, except during exams.”

“It turned out that my worries were just that, a few unfounded fears. Once we were together, Shawn absolutely blossomed for his senior year. He became so assured, so confident and outgoing, it was like night and day.”

“There was one Friday when he came home from school, sometime in early December, I think it was. I was really randy for some reason. I don’t know why, because we were making love at least once a day, and he had taken me in front of the stove that morning before he left for school.”

Marsh paused for a moment and then asked rhetorically, “Jen, what is it about the kitchen that sets a son off? I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that bending me over the sink and hiking my skirt up is Shawn’s favorite position. We did that so often, I stopped wearing panties when he was home. And I still don’t!”

Pausing her story to sip her coffee, she asked, “You know what he wanted for his 21st birthday? I was all set to show him a wonderful night on the town, fancy dinner and drinks, dancing, a little clubbing, the whole nine yards, but he didn’t want that. He said, ‘Mom, all I want is for you to fix me a steak and salad – just wearing your apron.’”

“So, that’s exactly what I did,” Marsh continued. “I added my own touch, putting on a garter belt, seamed stockings and high heels. He went absolutely apeshit, Jen! First, he put me on the counter top and ate me to a couple of juicy cums. Then he laid me over the kitchen table and took me quickly from behind. He came in just a couple of minutes but stayed totally hard in me, he was so excited. Then it was doggie style on the floor for almost a half hour – I came twice again before he did. The only reason we stopped was because my knees and elbows were getting sore,” she confessed with a throaty laugh. “Of course, my nice new stockings were totally ruined at that point, but it was so worth it!”

“Needless to say,” she went on, “Dinner got cold. After I cried ‘Uncle’, Shawn picked me up and carried me into the den, tucking me in with a couple of blankets on the sofa. He brought our dinner out, along with a fancy bottle of wine he bought for the occasion. We sat and ate and drank, watching movies the rest of the evening. In the end, I think I enjoyed our kitchen sex and cuddling even more than if we had gone out like I planned.”

“Oh yes,” Mom agreed. “The kitchen is, uhm, a special place for Ricky and me also.”

She went on to describe our first time there, after our reconciliation, omitting a few of the more intimate, kinky details. “I guess, in the end it’s all about love and comfort,” Mom concluded. “It’s a natural extension of a mother and son being together. I’d bet you that any son who’s ever dreamed about doing his mom has at least one fantasy scenario that involves the kitchen.”

“You know, Jen, I have to confess that it gives me a thrill to do Shawn there too. I guess it’s just the sheer perversity of the idea. After all, when you think about how much traditional mothering actually happens there, it feels like a real taboo place, almost like fucking in church.”

“Marsh, you don’t me to say that you and Shawn have…”

“Oh, goodness, no. As much as I like the idea of breaking rules, that’s just too risky. Anyway, I don’t think we need the extra kick from something like that. Things are hot and heavy enough all by themselves, just knowing my son is my lover.”

Sitting back in her chair, Marsh stretched and took a long pull from her coffee mug, briefly lost in thought as she got back on track with her story.

“Anyway, back to that December Friday. Even though we did the nasty in the kitchen that morning, there it was – I needed to fuck my son, again. When Shawn walked in the door, I was upstairs in our bed, naked and waiting. When he found me, he stripped down in about ten seconds and we had a lovely, sweet session.”

“What I remember was that his cell phone went off nearly a dozen times while we made love, not a big deal, but a bit annoying. Afterwards, while we were showering together, he apologized and promised that he would make sure to silence his cell in the future.”

“Jen, those calls were all from girls, wanting to know what he was doing for the weekend! One called three different times! Shawn was chuckling as he paged through the messages. He said, ‘You know Mom, it’s so ironic. Just a few months ago I would have sold my soul to have girls pursuing me like this. Now though, I can’t be bothered. A high school teenager just can’t compete with a beautiful, intelligent woman. I admit it – I’m spoiled forever. I have everything I’ll ever need right here at home.’”

“What could I do after that, Jen? I took him straight back to bed and ravished him until dinnertime. That was the real turning point in our relationship – it was then that I truly knew we were going to make it work. What a great moment that was!”

“So that’s how it is. Shawn is busting his ass for us now, hoping to graduate a semester early. He’s still got a year to go and he’s already getting job offers, good ones. He’s started to get after me lately, says he wants me to go back to school and finish getting my degree in design and architecture when he graduates! I’m thinking about it very seriously. I can’t believe how much our life has changed in the past two years – I have to pinch myself to confirm it’s all really happened.”

“Anyway, that’s the Readers Digest version of Shawn and me. How about you two? Anything new? You’re still both honeymooners in effect.”

Mom took a reflective sip of her own coffee before she replied.

“Yes and no, I suppose. I guess the novelty of things, the excitement of exploring with your new lover is there, but there are incredible differences, too. I’m amazed at how settled, how grounded I feel now. I know with absolute certainty who I’ll be spending the rest of my life with. I feel, well, complete in a way I would never have thought possible in the past. It’s complicated but simple all at once. I don’t think I could have a warmer, closer, or more romantic relationship with any other man, but at the same time, I feel so excited, so wicked to be sleeping with my own son!”

“Listen to me ramble on, Marsh,” Mom blushed. “It’s almost impossible to describe, but I know it’s right and it’s what was meant to be for us.”

“Actually, I think you said it pretty well, Jen.”

“Marsh, I can’t get over how different your relationship started compared to us, but how similar things ended up. I told Ricky during the first night we were together that I had been a fool for taking so long to be with him, making him wait and putting up with so much emotional idiocy from me, but he wouldn’t hear of it,” she said, running her fingers through my hair.

“It’s true, Mom,” I confirmed. “I think it all unfolded the way it did for a reason. Everything that happened, good and bad, got us to a place where we truly understood what we meant to one another. I’m positive that your conversation with Mom when she came back from Vancouver was a key moment too, Marsh.”

“I didn’t feel it at the time,” Mom interjected, “But by the next morning, it became clear that what you said in the kitchen had a big subconscious impact on me. It freed me from worry about outside issues and allowed me to focus on what was important between my son and me. We owe you a huge debt.”

“I’m glad I was of help. It’s wonderful to think I had at least a small role in the creation of something so beautiful.”

“Did you guys ever have any more contact with ‘Linda?’” Mom asked.

“Oh, yes,” Marsh affirmed. “I had Shawn initiate a chat with her the next day. I got online with her and gave her the scoop on our confrontation, how well Shawn handled himself, how proud I was of him. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart and Shawn did too. Then I told her we were together. She was initially surprised, but then thrilled for us. I told her I was going to light a candle in her son’s memory the next time I went to Mass. She said I was going to make her cry, but she was honored we thought of him that way. Long story short, we began having private chatroom sessions from time to time and within a month, Shawn sent her a webcam with instructions on how to set up sessions. We Skype at least twice a week. She’s now one of my closest friends.”

“Speaking of videoconferencing, would it be okay if I told Linda (that is her real name, after all) a little about you guys? – No identifying details, of course.”

I glanced at Mom and she nodded. “I think it’s fine, Marsh. We’ll leave it to your discretion how much you want to tell her.”

“Thanks, Rick. I think she’ll get a real lift out of your experience. I always thought is was very romantic and inspiring.”

“You can add one detail to our story if you like, Marsh,” Mom quietly added.

“What’s that, Jen?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Marsh just sat there stunned for almost thirty seconds, mouth hanging open, speechless in shock, glancing back and forth between us, at a complete loss for words.

I chuckled and supplied her with her own response.

“I think the term you’re looking for here is ‘OMFG’, Marsh.”

“Jesus, you didn’t waste a minute, did you, Jen? Did you plan on this? Aren’t you, ummm, worried about the baby, if it’s going to be, uh, completely healthy?” Marsh asked with concern.

“Marsh, once I knew we were going to be lovers, it never occurred to me NOT to do this,” Mom said emphatically. “As far as I’m concerned, it comes with the package. If I’m going to fuck my own son, live the rest of my life with him, then by God, I’m going to have his children too. Anyway, about the other thing – I did do my homework. Given my age as well as the genetic aspect, I was worried at first. It wasn’t easy to track down the information, but in the end, it seemed as though the risks of us being related were only a bit more than those any other woman my age might have for something like Down’s syndrome.”

“What about you Rick? How do you feel about all this?” Marsh inquired.

“We talked about it a lot, Marsh. In the end, we just knew that regardless, any child we had was going to be loved to death, no matter what. Anyway, how can you not want to have children with the woman you love?” I asked back. “Besides, once you’ve become a motherfucker, how many other taboos are really left? Mom and I are going to have a family together because that’s what real couples do. Why should we be any different from anyone else?”

“That’s well said, Rick. Bravo.”

“I have to admit, though, Mom and I agree that it’s also an incredible turn on for both of us,” I added with a smile. “I guess we also like breaking all the rules.”

“Well, congratulations – it’s wonderful news. I can’t wait to tell Shawn. I have to say though, I think I’m getting a bit jealous.”

“Have you and Shawn talked at all about it?” Mom asked.

“No, Jen, we’ve been concentrating on getting him graduated and finding a job.”

“You really should have a discussion with him,” I suggested. “I admit I don’t know Shawn that well, but I think you might be very surprised at how he feels. Talk some more with Mom too. She’s not an expert, but we’ve both learned a lot over the past few months. Mom was thinking about it and looking at the risks from the beginning.”

“I will most definitely do that, Rick. Wow, you guys have really got me thinking now. You’re a bunch of enablers, that’s what you are!” she laughingly scolded.

With that, Marsh drained her mug and stood. “Well, I need to get home and have a nice hot soak. My poor little tush needs some R&R.”

As she opened the back door, I called to her. “Say hi to Mr. Big for us!”

Mom was scandalized. “Ricky!” she yelled, punching my arm.

Marsh just laughed. “Is he too old to spank, Jen?”

“I’d do it in a minute if I didn’t think he’d get off from it. See ya, Marsh.”

“Later, Jen. Behave yourself, Rick,” she called out over her shoulder as she went out the door, hips swaying.


These thoughts and recollections were running through my head as we cleaned up and got ready for the welcome party for Mom. She decided we should shower separately, as there was some doubt that we would get out on time if we got started again with any good clean fun. I had to admit she was probably correct, so I acquiesced and let her bathe first. When I came out of the shower, toweling my hair, Mom was putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

Glancing at me by way of the mirror, she regarded me gravely for a moment and asked, “Are you ready for the reception, darling?”

“Yes, I am, m- Jen.”

“We can’t have any slip ups, Ricky, either of us,” she reminded me seriously, easing her reminder with a small smile.

“My game face is on, gorgeous. I’m not going to let anything ruin what we have together. Once we step out that door, it’s Jenny, Jen, Jennifer no matter what,” I reassured her.

“Thanks, sweetie pie. I know I can count on you,” she smiled, relief in her voice. “I also know I really don’t have to remind you, it’s just…”

“It’s just what moms do, pretty lady,” I chuckled. “I’m well-used to it and I truly don’t mind.”

“Also, just remember this, gorgeous, behind closed doors at home, and especially between the sheets, you’re always my beautiful, loving mother.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, son of mine. You make me feel so special,” she sighed, a small catch in her voice.

“Only what my queen deserves, nothing more. Now, lets see what ensemble you’re favoring us with today.”

She was wearing the same outfit she went to the deposition in, back in early summer. The combination of the green silk blouse, black skirt and matching jacket looked just as gorgeous today as it did before, but with one difference.

I came up behind her, encircling her waist with my arms, nuzzling her hair. Pulling her coiffure to one side, I kissed the juncture of her shoulder and neck, lightly nibbling. Sighing, Mom leaned back into me, rubbing her ass against my perpetual boner.

“Mmmmmm, you’re absolutely determined to make us late, aren’t you Ricky?”

“You’re the guest of honor Mom, by definition, you can’t be late.”

“You know that’s not true, you naughty boy. Now, settle down and let me finish here.”

I ran my hands up under the front of her jacket and received a surprise.

“Mom, you’re not wearing a bra!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Mom laughed. “Nobody can tell with the jacket I’m wearing – only you and I will know. I like how the silk feels on my nipples,” she confessed with a whisper.

Caressing her tits one last time, I gave each of her tips a light tweak through the satiny fabric of her blouse and turned her around to face me.

Kissing me lightly, she cooed and undid the towel at my waist. As it dropped to the floor, she gave me a couple of quick strokes, pausing once to cup my balls, tracing her finger lightly along my taint.

“Careful, lady,” I growled. “That thing’s loaded and might go off.”

“I’m finding I like living on the edge,” she teased, eyes sparkling. Giving me one last squeeze, she stepped away, laughing. “Now, put that monster away before someone gets hurt,” she admonished. “I’m going to pick out your tie.”

“God, you’re a hard woman. Don’t you feel guilty teasing me like that?”

“And you’re a harder man, exactly the way I like ‘em. And no, I don’t feel the least bit guilty. Every woman needs a hobby.”

Laughing, I smacked her bottom as she walked to our suitcases.

“Ouch! You’re a beast, beating on your poor mother like that!” she complained, absently rubbing her buttock. “Now, where did I put that red-striped Brioni?”


Almost miraculously, we managed to finish getting ready without any further molestations. Just as she was making the final, motherly adjustments to my appearance (Moms will always and forever fuss about how their sons look before big social events, what’s a guy to do?), the phone rang. The front desk informed us that our limo was ready and asked us to be in the lobby in five minutes.

We were initially taken to the practice’s offices for a reception. It was illuminating to watch Mom in her own element, something I had seldom seen before. I had always known that she was an accomplished attorney, based on her rapid rise to partnership and the amount of responsibility she had in the practice, as well as her handsome income, but to see her interacting with her colleagues put an entirely different spin on things.

It became very clear in watching her that she wasn’t simply thought to be merely a good lawyer, she was considered an authority in her area of expertise. A sort of informal, jovial testing seemed to be going on as she talked with her new partners, being sounded out on complex and controversial issues in her specialty as well as more wide-ranging legal issues. Through it all, I could see her new associates gradually becoming more and more impressed with her acumen as her friendly interrogation progressed. I could also tell from some not-so-covert glances that her physical charms were not going unappreciated, either.

I was surprised that I didn’t feel jealous at all the attention she was receiving. If anything, I felt even more proud of her as my mother and my lover than I had at any previous time. It really hit home then how unbelievably fortunate I really was. I smiled and thought to myself, “Rick, you are one lucky motherfucker.”

“Are you enjoying our little gathering, then?”

I was startled out of my reverie by a deep voice next to me. It belonged to an imposing figure, an elderly, cue-ball bald gentleman, sporting a quintessentially English, Harris Tweed three-piece suit. He had an honest-to-god, old fashioned, golden pince-nez perched on his hawk-like nose. Even accounting for his age-related stoop, he towered over me by a good three inches. He looked to be around seventy years old, but was lean and fit in appearance.

Holding out his hand, he offered an introduction. “Richard, I’m Seamus MacLeish. My brother Archie runs the practice. He’s the one who persuaded your lovely lady to join this band of pirates. I’m more or less retired,” he went on to explain. “But they do trot me out from time to time for occasions like this.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. MacLeish.”

“Please, don’t stand on ceremony, I insist. I’m ‘Shay’ or, if you prefer, ‘Clay’ to my friends.”

“Thanks. Please call me Rick. Can you explain ‘Clay’ to me?”

“It dates back to my time at University. It’s short for ‘Claymore’ – I did some sabre fencing in my undergraduate days.”

“Clay it is, then,” I affirmed.

“I hope you’re not feeling left out of the festivities. I would guess you understand that Jennifer tends to draw a crowd wherever she is. She has a rare combination of intellect, grace and beauty that few women are blessed with.”

“Actually, I spend most of my time thinking that I’m the one who’s blessed, Clay. I’m very, very lucky.”

“That you are, my friend. I’m glad you recognize that.” Changing the subject, he began his own polite interrogation. “I understand you’re in the restaurant business.”

“Soon to be, I hope. I’m looking to find a suitable location to open my own place once we get moved.”

“I may be able to be of assistance to you in that regard.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose on you for something like that, especially on such short acquaintance.”

“And I normally wouldn’t make such an offer to someone I didn’t know well, but you must remember you are part of our professional family now. Besides, I have at least two ulterior motives, if you will allow me to explain.”

“First, I have an entire career’s worth of connections in this city, including in commercial real estate. I know where most of the bodies are buried,” he grinned. “If there’s anything I can do that will make Jennifer’s start here less stressful, either directly or indirectly, I’m going to pursue that. It’s in the interests of the practice. That would include reducing her worries about the inception of your own business.”

“Secondly, I have a selfish reason for helping you. I’m the chair of the local gourmet society. Fine dining has been a passion of mine for almost fifty years. I’ll not pass up an opportunity to cultivate a relationship with an up and coming new chef if I can help it.”

As Shay described his intentions, it became clear that I had stumbled on to an unexpected piece of good luck and a broad grin broke across my face. “In that case, I’ll accept gratefully. We can discuss this more over dinner, if you like.”

“It will be a pleasure, my boy, let me assure you.”

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned to find Mom standing behind me.

“Rick, I’d like you to meet Archie MacLeish.”

Archibald MacLeish was very much Seamus’ brother, except where Clay was somewhat stooped, Archibald was, at ten years younger, still ramrod straight. He was easily as trim and fit as his elder brother, if not more so, but where the elder MacLeish sported a gleaming pate, Archibald had a muddy, unruly mop of red hair gone most of the way to silver-gray. No pince-nez for the younger MacLeish, though. A pair of utilitarian reading glasses hung around his neck, suspended from a silver chain. Where the elder brother favored rustic tweed, Archibald clearly leaned to Saville Row, as evidenced by a very elegant, worsted gray wool suit. He was my height, looking me directly in the eye as we shook hands.

“Rick, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. I had always wondered what kind of a man had captured Jennifer’s heart. I must confess though, I had pictured someone a bit different.”

“Did I really give you the impression of someone different, Archie?” Mom inquired.

“I suppose I just assumed that a lady as talented, educated and cultured as you would have landed a massively successful, ‘captain of industry’ type. You know, weekends yachting in the Hamptons, a box at the Met and philanthropy, that sort of thing,” he laughed easily. “Just goes to show how dangerous assumptions can be.”

“I guess I’m just a little less conventional than you imagined, Archie,” Mom stated drily.

I struggled to maintain my composure after hearing Mom’s retort, nearly choking on my drink. “I guess you could say we’re a somewhat less than usual couple,” I agreed, and then it was Mom’s turn to suppress a laugh. “Even so, it works for us. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, ” I affirmed.

Mom stepped up next to me and slipped her arm around my waist. “Same for me, Archie. What’s not to like? Talented, hard working, romantic and handsome, this one is. Of course, I’ll need to take him down a couple of notches after all those compliments, but that’s for later,” Mom laughed.

“Jen, I thought it was agreed that we would keep the sadomasochistic elements of our relationship a secret,” I joked, a deadpan expression on my face.

Archibald and Seamus paused and looked at me in shock, not sure that they had actually heard what I just said. When I grinned and winked at them, they simultaneously snorted in their drinks, setting up a stereophonic coughing spell. Dabbing, the front of his suit with his handkerchief, Archie cleared his throat, eyes watering, while Clay struggled to get his breath back.

“Oh, and did I mention he has a wicked sense of humor, too?” Mom’s tinkling laugh attracting all eyes in the room to us.

Finally regaining his composure, Clay put his arm over my shoulder, turning to his brother. “By God, Arch, I think we need to get to know this young man better. I’m beginning to appreciate what Jennifer must see in you.”

“Speaking of which,” Archie interjected, “Would I be out of line in inquiring how you two met? You two seem so well matched to each other, it’s immediately apparent that you share a very close bond.”

I glanced at Mom, waiting for her to take the lead. We had discussed things before we left the hotel and knew this was likely to come up.

“We’ve known each other for quite a few years, Archie,” she explained. “There’s always been a strong attraction, but neither of use was in a position in our lives to do anything about it until recently. Our careers were starting to move us away from each other and I guess, when we thought about it, we didn’t want that to end our friendship. Over the past several months, we finally acknowledged what was really there between us. Thing have been wonderful since then. I sometimes find myself wondering why we waited so long.”

Archie nodded in assent. “Often those things which are most important in our daily existence are under our very noses, and we don’t recognize them because they are too close to us. When we are forced to step back, then we see what is truly valuable in our lives.”

Clay turned to me and asked, “What about you Rick? I know Jennifer’s story, the tragedy of her parents, her estranged son living in New York. I’m curious about your family. Do you have any relatives in the Pacific Northwest?”

“No, Clay. My only living relative is my mother.”

“I see. If it’s not out of line, may I ask what she thinks about you and Jennifer?”

“Oh, she’s always been my biggest supporter and fully approves of me and Jen,” I replied, glancing at Mom.

Mom quickly took a sip from her drink, eyes dancing as she returned my glance. I was beginning to get a little nervous about the direction of our conversation, but Mom seemed to be enjoying herself hugely. Still, there were obviously no flies on the MacLeish brothers and I was starting to worry that I might let something slip or create an inconsistency I couldn’t explain away. Once again, Mom saved my bacon.

“I think it’s safe to say that Rick’s mother and I get along very well. It’s really a shame that you probably won’t get to meet her – she doesn’t travel on account of her agoraphobia and Manitoba is a long ways from here.”

Archie and Seamus made some sympathetic noises in my direction, which I acknowledged and then Mom stepped up to the helm, steering the good ship Incest away from the reef of discovery.

“Clay, I understand that you have invested a significant amount of effort in selecting the site of our dinner this evening. I’d love to hear what you decided on.”

With that, Seamus was off to the races, giving Mom and me a blow-by-blow description of the plans for our evening meal. I heaved a large mental sigh of relief and fully relaxed for the first time since our arrival.


We mingled for another hour or so, getting to meet the other partners in the firm as well as the support staff. A couple of the paralegals and one of the female associates had me in their sights briefly, but when it became clear I only had eyes for my beautiful lady, they retracted their hooks and skulked off in search of other prey. I could tell Mom found their interactions with me to be highly amusing. I knew that I’d be in for unmerciful ribbing once we got back to the hotel, but what can you do?

Eventually, the reception broke up and the MacLeishes and a couple of other senior partners took us to dinner at a small, unpretentious bistro overlooking Coal Harbor.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Seamus explained, “But I can absolutely guarantee you that you will be having some of the finest, freshest seafood in the city tonight. Also, essentially everything else you put in your mouth this evening is locally grown. I can recommend the mussels and halibut without reservation, but I have it on good authority that the chef also has taken delivery on some live Geoduck, if your tastes run in that direction.”

“Gooey duck?” Mom asked.

“Local giant clams, Jen,” I explained. “They live three to four feet beneath the surface in tidal mud flats.”

“The name is based on local Indian dialect, meaning ‘to dig deep’,” Archie added. “They are a highly sought after delicacies in the Far East. The Japanese have been known to pay up to two hundred dollars a pound for them, so most of the harvest goes to export.”

“Well, I know that I don’t need to look at the menu, if the chef has them,” I stated. “I’m in your debt, Clay. I’ve always wanted to try them and now I’ll have the opportunity.”

“Count me in as well,” Mom declared. “I’m always up for an eating adventure.”

“Bravo,” Seamus applauded. “Nothing like jumping in with both feet, I always say. I admire the adventurous spirit you both show.”

The waiter made his appearance and we placed our orders. By way of another friendly test, Seamus deferred the choice of wines to me. I negotiated a tasting flight of five wines with the sommelier, Seamus arching his eyebrow in polite surprise at several of my choices.

I explained how I planned to drink my choices, emphasizing the pairings with the different modes of preparation of the clams, one to go with the garlic wine sauté, another for the sashimi with mirin, the third with the traditional spicy Korean recipe, and so on. He was politely skeptical at first, but as we worked our way through the meal, he was very pleasantly surprised by several of the combinations, raising my stock considerably.

Having finally established my bona fides to his satisfaction, Seamus and I launched into an in depth discussion of my restaurant plans and by the time dessert rolled around, we had formulated a plan of action for the following day. He actually took time to call a friend, one of the most knowledgeable commercial realtors in the city, to set up an exploration for us the following morning. It was agreed that Mom would accompany us so as to get a feel for the city, which I would have insisted on anyway. The following day would be devoted to her visiting her new practice during working hours, while Seamus would take me out to lunch. Our visit was shaping into quite the whirlwind.

Back in the hotel that evening, I was surprised that Mom did not tease me immediately about the women who were scoping me out at the reception. She must have been exceptionally horny, because she wasted no time in getting my head under her dress, basically pushing me to the floor of the entryway in our suite and straddling my face the moment the door was closed.

I found her crotch soaked and her thighs slick with woman juice. The air under the skirt was thick with her scent, a veritable hothouse of damp panties, matted, wet pubic hair and slick, engorged labia. I felt like I was slipping into a thick fogbank of aroused female essence. She pulled the gusset of her panties to one side as she lowered herself to my eager mouth, her fingers on either side of her petals as she opened her flower to my tongue.

Needless to say, I enjoyed my second dessert.

After eating her to two quick, but intense climaxes, I was finally able to maneuver her out of her clothes and into our bed, where I promptly got rode hard and put up wet. To continue the mixed metaphor, when Mom gets the bit between her teeth, it’s best to let her have her way, and that night was no exception. I was well rewarded for my patience, though.

As we cuddled in the afterglow, catching our breath, Mom idly traced her fingers over my chest and abdomen while I held her under my arm.

“I’m not wearing you out, am I Ricky?”

“Not a chance, Mom.”

“I did warn you how horny I get when I’m pregnant.”

“You certainly did. I may be tired, but I’m not complaining. If it gets to be too much, I can start mainlining Cialis. That, popsicle sticks and duct tape should do the trick.”

“You’re impossibly silly. Now, it’s time to sleep,” she smiled. “I want you fully rested for my wake up fuck tomorrow.”

“Oh God, back to the salt mines.”

“I love you too, Ricky. Now, let’s get some rest.”


The next day, we found out that the real estate agent was indeed as good as Seamus made him out to be. After only about an hour of discussion about my needs, he found five solid possibilities available for immediate lease. We never even got to numbers four or five, because our third stop was perfect.

Consisting of half of an old three story brick mercantile establishment near the edge of the Gastown district, the building had been recently gutted, the first floor ceiling knocked out and the third floor converted to a spacious apartment. It had the perfect ambience I was seeking, light, airy and quiet, with the added bonus of very high ceilings since the second floor had been essentially removed. Warm hardwood floors and old fashioned plaster lath walls mixed with bare brick completed the appearance. The high ceiling would allow for subtle, indirect soft lighting and a number of natural alcoves provided the opportunity for semi-private, romantic booths.

Mom and I only needed about ten minutes of discussion to make up our minds. By five o’clock that day, we were sitting down with the owner, negotiating the terms. We ended up getting an agreement to combine the three upstairs units into one and got excellent terms on the downstairs as well, with an option for purchase. Once again, Mom was in her element, raising my admiration and love to new heights. That poor building owner never knew what hit him after the bargaining was over.

The following day, we almost didn’t make it out to our respective appointments on time, as an intended quick shower together somehow turned into an extended bout of intense anal sex, Mom coming to a shrieking orgasm that had the people in the adjacent suite calling the front desk to complain about the noise.

As we staggered out of the shower, Mom glanced at the clock and swore, “Shit! I’ve only got 5 minutes to get ready!”

Quickly slipping into her underwear and pantyhose, she donned a blouse and pulled a skirt from the suitcase, and gave it a shake, pulling it over her hips. Glancing over her shoulder as she dashed to the bathroom for her makeup, she called to me.

“Ricky, find me an extra pair of panties and put them in my purse, please.”


“When your son shoots a pint of sperm up your ass, you need to plan ahead, love,” she explained merrily. “I can’t afford to be leaking during my meeting today. Actually, now that I think about it, be a darling and get me a pack of Kleenex too.”

“You got it, my beautiful butt slut.”

“God, you’re impossible. How am I going to survive the next forty or fifty years?” she asked, rolling her eyes to the heavens.

“Very happily, I hope.”

While Mom put the finishing touches on her mascara and lipstick, I had an evil idea. Moving quickly to the wastebasket by our bed, I rummaged until I found the cork from a bottle of wine we had shared the previous evening.

As she swept by me towards the door, I presented it to her with a flourish, waggling my eyebrows.

“Just in case, Mom.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Ricky! You are soooo gross sometimes, I want to smack you!” she scolded, also laughing at the same time. Eyes dancing with mirth, she stepped up and gave me a toe-curling kiss.

“I love you, son. Now, I gotta run. Try not to get in too much trouble today. I don’t have enough ready cash for bail money.”

Also laughing, I kissed back as good as I got. “Love you too, Mom. I’ll try to behave. See you later.”


Two days later, we were back in New Jersey. If I thought our life was moving quickly before, I was sadly mistaken. We had slightly less than three weeks to get the house on the market, arrange movers and get back to Vancouver. Thank god for Marsh and Shawn. They agreed to keep an eye on the place and keep tabs on how the realtor was doing for us. The movers came about a week after we got back and then, suddenly we were at loose ends.

Mom and I were sitting in the back yard, holding hands, legs dangling in the pool, idly kicking the water as we watched the last of our possessions being taken out of the house to the moving van. It was a wonderful, warm, clear morning, with perfect temperatures and blessedly low humidity, one of the nicest days we’d had in a month. I think we were both feeling a strange combination of excitement and sadness, on one hand looking forward to our new life together, but also thoughts very much on the memories we were leaving behind. I believe we were both remembering Gramps and Nana quite a bit at that moment as well.

We had made arrangements to stay in a motel for about a week before we left for Vancouver, but I don’t think we were really looking forward to it. We were discussing how to fill our time until our departure date, when I had an idea.

“Mom, I just had a thought.”

“Imagine that. So you’re not just a boy-toy then?” she teased.

“I’m trying to be serious here, woman. Show a little respect, if you please.”

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she squeezed my hand. “Say away, my son.”

“I think we should have a honeymoon.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Why are we staying here, Mom? You submitted your letter of resignation before we even left to visit your new practice and Louie doesn’t really need me right now, since the summer rush has ended. What do you say we just pack up, get in the car and start driving west?”

“It’s a wonderful idea, Ricky! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“If we left today, we would probably get to Vancouver about 2 or 3 days before the van is scheduled to show up. That would be just about right to start getting the apartment ready. We could pick up an inflatable bed and rough it until the furniture arrives.”

“I love it, darling. It makes me feel so…so bohemian, so spontaneous. Do you think we should plan any reservations, or a particular itinerary?”

“I’d like to be as footloose as possible, but let me get my laptop and we’ll figure out a general route.”

We quickly decided on a northerly pathway, taking us to Cleveland, Chicago and Minneapolis, then through Montana and on to Spokane and finally, to Bellevue and Puget Sound. With the decision made, we were almost as giddy as children, straining at the leash to get going. We walked across the street to Marsh for a heartfelt, slightly tearful goodbye, threw our suitcases in the car and headed down the street.

We didn’t look back.


The trip to Vancouver was amazing. I could spend a hundred pages just recounting the memories from that week alone. The overwhelming recollection of the trip for me though, was and always will be the first real taste of freedom we had as a couple. While we were at home, there was always the need to be careful when out in town, not knowing if we might run into a neighbor or business associate or client of Mom’s. To be an anonymous pair, just Rick and Jenny, lovers and self-acknowledged spouses, was a luxury almost beyond comprehension. Simple things like holding hands when walking down a street or kissing in public were special events, to be savored and appreciated at every opportunity.

Oh, yes – then there was the sex.

I already thought Mom was hotter than a Saturday Night Special, but I was unprepared for the onslaught which developed as we traveled across the country. Perhaps some of what I experienced was simply the hormonal effects of her pregnancy, but I truly believe that Mom experienced a real sensual rebirth when we put New Jersey behind us. In surrendering herself to her incestuous desires, she opened a floodgate of long-suppressed carnality that I don’t think even she was fully aware of.

Mom loved to fuck. Period. End of story. She was game for anything at any time and seemed to become aroused at a speed that even I could barely keep up with sometimes. That was an eye-opening discovery for a twenty-two year old guy with an already insatiable lust for his mother, I can tell you. I probably should have realized what I was going to be subjected to when we finished packing the car and motored down Middlebury Drive for the last time.

Mom was wearing a brand new, sea green sundress, which ended above her knees (after our Fourth of July celebration, I became a BIG fan of that style and I encouraged her to add as many as we could find to her wardrobe). The color harmonized perfectly with her hair and skin tone. Next to the original July Fourth frock, it was my favorite one. I loved the ethereal, crepe-like weight and texture of the material and the hem length, which perfectly showcased Mom’s astounding legs. Like the Fourth of July sundress, the bodice was supported by a looping halter of material, which went around the back of her neck.

As we turned the first corner and our old house was lost from view, Mom casually unbuttoned the halter of the dress, allowing the material to fall to her waist. Slowly and carefully, she unhooked her bra and put it in her handbag. Her exposed pink peaks immediately stiffened in the breeze flowing through the open windows of our car. Then, with equal deliberation, she put herself back together, briefly running her fingers over her nipples after her breasts were concealed again by the fabric of her dress.

Pursing her lips and blowing me a kiss, she reminded me gently, “Eyes on the road, darling boy. I’m just getting comfy for our drive.”

“Comfy, my ass, Mom! You’re indulging your latent sadistic streak at my expense, as usual,” I grumbled.

“What’s the matter, Ricky. Don’t you like Mommy teasing you, getting your nice cock all hard and slick with precum?”

Unleashing an inarticulate groan, I banged my head against the steering wheel. “Mom, it’s bad enough that I have to look at your gorgeous tits and not be able to touch them, but you know what it does to me when you talk sexy like that!”

“I’m just keeping myself entertained for our long trip, Ricky. Surely I’m not supposed to just sit here and count mile markers and telephone poles?”

“You’re very cruel to your poor son. Just remember, payback can be a bitch, dear lady.”

Sidling over close to me, she lightly squeezed my thigh, whispering, “I’m counting on it, young stud, absolutely counting on it.”

As we headed down US 1 towards I-95, Mom zinged me again. When I turned on to the onramp, she lifted her hips and reached under her dress, pulling off a pair of plain, pale green cotton panties. She rubbed her fingers on the obviously damp gusset and brought them to my mouth, allowing me to lick them clean.

“That’s going to have to hold you for a while, dear. You’ll get your lunch a little later.”

“You’re a very naughty mommy, you know, feeding your own son your pussy juice.”

“And I intend to stay that way,” she replied with a laugh. Then, she balled the panties up and threw them out the window. “I’m not going to be needing these for the rest of the trip. I want you to be able to see me, touch me, lick me and fuck me 24/7, Ricky.”

“So I’m going to be your on-call boy-toy?”

“There are worse fates for a young man. Do you object?”

“Not on your life, pretty lady.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m going to relax.” Mom then swiveled her hips so she could put her feet on the dash. The sixty mile an hour wind from the open windows billowed under the front of her dress, pushing the material all the way to her waist, exposing her luxuriant bush and succulent pink gash, her moist labia already beginning to flower. Eventually, she simply pulled the entire dress up fully around her waist, explaining, “I don’t want to get the back of my dress wet. The upholstery is just going to have to take its chances.”

As the miles rolled by, Mom would occasionally run her fingers up and down her slit, diddling her clit lightly and occasionally delving into her channel to feed me more of her delicious wetness. She was having the time of her life, driving me absolutely insane with desire.

We were about a third of the way north on I-476 towards I-80 when I figured out how to exact a small measure of retribution for Mom’s teasing. I decided that Mom wasn’t the only one in the car who could talk dirty.

“I was thinking, Mom.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“The next time a truck comes by, I think you should show yourself.”

“Ricky! Are you out of your mind?”

“I want the world to see my sexy momma’s cunt. I want everyone to see how wet you get, how pretty your hairy pussy is. I think it’s beautiful and everyone deserves to see it. Don’t you want to show off your pussy, Mom? Haven’t you always wanted to pull up your dress and see someone get hard looking at you?”

“My God, I’ve raised a pervert.”

“You don’t fool me, Mother. I can already see you’re getting wetter. Pretty soon it’s going to be absolutely flowing out of you. Your thighs will be all creamy and the upholstery under your ass is going to be getting all sticky with your love juice. Before too long, you’re going to have to stick your fingers in your wet pussy and give yourself a big cum. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

“Jesus, Ricky, what’s gotten into you?” Mom asked hoarsely. Her hands were trembling and she was unconsciously rubbing her palms on the tops of her bare thighs.

“Well Mom, I just decided that two can play the talking dirty game,” I smirked lewdly. “This is my quid pro quo and it certainly looks like your quid likes it,” I rasped, reaching across the seat to run my fingers through her dampening bush.

Mom shuddered at my touch and batted my hand away. “Ricky, you are such a nasty boy! I can’t believe you want me to expose myself to total strangers.”

Closing in for the coup de grace, I played my trump card. “Mom, I have one word for you – Sorvino’s.”

“Oh, God! You would bring that up, wouldn’t you?” she groaned.

Mom was now rubbing the insides of both thighs with her hands, squirming in her seat. Her scent was detectable, even in the strong cross breeze flowing though the open windows of our car. I made my nostrils flare and made me even stiffer than I already was, if that was possible.

“So you recall how I finger fucked your ass, then? Your sweet butthole was so tight and hot, Mom, it was unbelievable. Do you remember how I made you cum right in the middle of the dance floor, where anyone could have seen you?”

“Oohhhhh, Jesus, Ricky. Not fair! Not fair!” she whimpered. Mom’s right hand had strayed to her thatch, as though it had a mind of its own. She slowly trailed her index finger across her clit, shuddering in its transit to her opening, which she delicately circled.

“Mom. Don’t be silly,” I chuckled wickedly. “There are absolutely no rules in this game.”

“I remember what it was like when you came,” I continued. “You couldn’t even stand up. You rubbed your very wet cunt against my thigh while my finger was up your ass. You made such a big wet spot on my leg that I think you probably squirted a little when I got you off. You were so hot, I bet I could have fucked you right in the booth if I wanted to. You needed a big cock so bad right then, I think you would have done anything to get fucked by your son.”

“Ohhhhhh, you sweet bastard,” Mom moaned. All pretense of control was now gone. She was slumped down in her seat, legs spread wide, two fingers pistoning in and out of her vagina. The seat beneath her was damp with her fluid and there was a distinct squelching sound as she frigged herself. Her head lolled back and to the side, her eyes closed. Her breath came in short, sharp pants as she concentrated on her pleasure.

“That’s it, Mom. Touch yourself for me, ” I murmured. “Play with your pussy for your son. Show me how you make yourself come. Show me how wet you are.”

Reduced to random “ooohs,” “ahhhhs”, grunts and squeaks of pleasure, Mom continued to furiously finger herself, now thrusting her pelvis up to meet her fingers, breathing in shorter, quicker gasps as she approached her climax. Sensing her nearness to her peak, I reached across to her and began rubbing her clit.

“Come for me, Mom. Come for your son. Play with your pussy and come for me.”

“Oh fuck!” Mom arched her back and pulled her fingers from her passage, pushed my hand aside to furiously rub her clit. Shuddering, she thrust her pelvis up, locking her legs with a scream.

“Ah! Ricky!” she cried, a jet of fluid squirting from her to splash against the glove compartment. Two smaller ejaculations followed, one arcing to the floor mat in front of her, the last a smaller dribble which pooled between her twitching thighs. She collapsed back down, sprawled in her seat, head lolling to on side, totally spent, eyes closed.

Searching for a gap in traffic, I carefully maneuvered into the slow lane and pulled over to the shoulder. Mom was still unresponsive, totally knocked out, a small smile on her lips. Looking to be out for the count, I searched in vain for some Kleenexes or napkins to clean up, but there were none to be found. Shrugging my shoulders, I peeled off my ratty tee shirt and tucked it in between her thighs and under her bottom, carefully arranging the top of her dress to cover her thighs.

I rolled up our windows and turned the A/C on, pulling back into the right lane. I consulted the GPS and found that there would be a fast food place about ten minutes up the road. Driving slowly and smoothly so as not to disturb Mom, I took the next exit and pulled into the lot of the burger joint. I exited the car quietly and returned a couple minutes later with a double fist full of napkins and a bottle of water. Mom was still completely out.

After I cleaned off the front of the glove box and the floor mat with damp napkins, I sat next to my lady love, putting my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. I lightly ran my fingers through her hair and traced a fingertip over her cheeks and jawline. Mom smiled gently as my fingers traced over her features, began to stir slightly and then stretched sinuously, opening her eyes. I kissed her lightly on her lips and forehead.

“Welcome back, beautiful.”

She took my head in her hands and kissed me firmly. “You are a very, very bad influence on your mother, young man. If I had any strength left, I’d tan your hide. You bring out the slut in me far too easily.”

“But I can tell, Mom. She wants to come out, or at least, cum.”

Looking me over, she seemed to realize for the first time that I didn’t have my tee shirt on.

“Ricky, where’s your shirt? What happened…” her voice petered out as she realized where my tee went.

“Oh my.”

Reaching beneath her sundress, she extracted the sodden mass of cotton that used to be my shirt.

Blushing furiously, Mom grabbed my hand. “Ricky, did I…uhhh, did I squirt again?”

“Oh yeah. Big time. It was beautiful. When you blasted off into orbit, I had to do a little damage control. I didn’t want your dress to get wet. Everything else could wait for cleanup on aisle 9.”

Shaking her head in amazement, she kissed my cheek. “Thanks for looking after me, darling.”

“Believe me Mom, it was my pleasure, most definitely.”

“I guess I better go inside and make myself presentable. I’ll be back in a couple minutes, sweetie.”

“Take your time Mom. We’re not keeping to any schedule.”

A short while later, she came back with a sandwich, some fries and a couple of root beers. Settling back into her seat, she grinned. “Post orgasmic munchies,” she explained around a mouthful of burger.

After I pulled back on to the interstate, she shared her snack with me, feeding me burger bites and individual french fries by hand, pausing now and then to wipe my mouth with a napkin and give me a kiss. Occasionally, I would capture her fingers with my lips, swirling my tongue suggestively on her fingertips, making her giggle. It was very intimate and warm, leaving me feeling quite spoiled.

After we finished eating, Mom extracted her iPod from her purse and plugged it into the stereo. We listened to “Kind of Blue,” ‘”Lush Life” and a smattering of Thelonious Monk, Diana Krall and Esperanza Spaulding as we ate up the miles. Mom sat close to me, head on my shoulder and a hand lightly resting on my thigh. Almost before we knew it, we were at the end of our day and our first stop.

Mom had found a little bed and breakfast place online, in a town called Chardon, east of Cleveland. It was a quaint, gingerbread Victorian place, which once must have belonged to a wealthy family, given its large size. There were at least eight bedrooms, of which we had the largest, housed in a turret with a fanciful, mansard roof. It’s slightly isolated location was a fortunate bonus, because the old brass bed within was as squeaky as they come.

Later that night, as Mom rode me in cowgirl fashion, the bed shook and rattled like the proverbial jalopy held together with spit and bailing wire. As embarrassingly loud as it was, I don’t think that the noise of the bed frame entirely concealed the true nature of our coupling, as Mom and I cried out to each other when we came together.

When we came down with our bags the next morning for breakfast, we were greeted with a somewhat scandalized reception, several guests refusing to even acknowledge our presence, two other couples looking at us with frank curiosity and memorably, one solitary older lady giving us a smile and wink of approval.

None of that really mattered to either of us, knowing we wouldn’t be back again. As we sat munching toast and eggs, sipping our coffee, I saw an excited, lustful gleam in Mom’s eyes. Leaning over and lowering my voice, I whispered, “I know that look, Momma-love. You’re thinking about something very wicked, aren’t you?”

“Who, li’l ole me?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, li’l ole you. I know that expression very well.”

“Hmmm, could be, Ricky. I want to give them a little show when we leave, shake ‘em up a some more.”

“You are very, very bad, mother. What do you have in mind?”

“Just follow my lead, boy.”

Raising her voice to a normal conversational tone, she spoke to me, “Ricky, be a darling and put our bags in the car while I finish my coffee.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Arriving back in the kitchen, I offered her my arm as she stood from the table, draining the last dregs of her coffee from the mug. When we reached the doorway, Mom stopped, put her arms around me and gave me a wide mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss with lots of tongue. I heard several sharp intakes of breath from around the table we had just vacated. Mom then broke our kiss and we headed out the door. As we went down the walkway, arms around each other’s waists, I lifted the hem of Mom’s sundress to expose her pantyless ass, hand reaching down to cup her cheek before we got into the car. I thought I heard the sound of breaking china from the kitchen as we reached our vehicle.

Once away, we dissolved into a fit of giggles that persisted for at least ten or fifteen miles. Every time we would quiet down for a moment, all it would take was one glance at each other and a fresh gale of laughter would ensue.

Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Mom finally caught her breath, gasping, “Oh my God, that was soo bad and sooo fun, Ricky! My sides hurt from laughing so much.”

“I think we made the other guest’s stay a memorable one, even without that little stunt at breakfast.”

“Whatever are you talking about, Ricky?” she asked, the picture of innocence.

“Well Mom, there wasn’t much doubt about what was happening in our room last night. That bed was flat out noisy. You did sort of let the cat out of the bag when you came, though.”

“Do tell.”

“Yes, I will,” I concurred. Raising my voice to a falsetto scream, I yelled, “Ooooh God, baby! Mommy’s cummmmiiinnngggg!”

“Heh, I guess I did, didn’t I, son?”

I turned to her and smiled, raising my eyebrows and holding my thumb and forefinger up, about an inch apart. “Just a little, Mom, just a little.”

“Well, I think there is some blame to be shared, lovely boy. If you weren’t such an incredible cocksman, I wouldn’t have come so hard.”

“Hah! Flattery will get you everywhere, dear mother.”


The rest of our trip continued in a similar vein, each day on the road punctuated by frequent interruptions for sneaky rest stop blow jobs, eating Mom out behind an abandoned gas station outside of Madison, Wisconsin, masturbating each other in the car and most memorably, stopping by a farm near Badlands National Park in South Dakota, where, at Mom’s insistence, we snuck into a cornfield for some hot cornholing. I remember the sense of utter contentment I felt afterwards, as we lay together naked on our blanket, between the rows of yellow corn, listening to the gentle, sighing rustle of wind flowing through the stalks, the warm noonday sun on our faces, the drone of insects buzzing around us. It was a moment of utter perfection.

Eventually, we managed to make it to Puget Sound, where we hung a right and shot on up to Vancouver. Our lazy days of extemporaneous, semipublic sex, roadhouse food and unscripted itineraries were over. It was the trip of a lifetime, but the rest of our life now beckoned and would brook no delays. We became immediately and hugely busy as Mom got started in her new practice and we worked together to get the restaurant off the ground.


You can get a good education, be book smart and technically competent in your chosen field, but when you get down to it, there is nothing you do in college that truly prepares you for running your own business. If anything, having a fine education sometimes blinds you with a kind of arrogance that comes with buying into the notion that you are somehow unique or more able than those around you, even the ones you love.

I know this for a fact, because I fell into that trap as we began setting up the restaurant. It led to the only serious argument I ever had with Mom, a gut-wrenching experience I never, ever wanted to repeat.

Those memories remain razor-sharp, carved into my cortex by the guilt I felt and the hurt I caused Mom.

We were freshly moved into our new flat, above the intended restaurant, still living out of partially unpacked boxes. I was fully immersed in consultations with our interior designer and contractor, both of who had been recommended by Clay MacLeish.

Our contractor, Duke Ellis, was working for cash at a significant discount, which was a tremendous help. We were meeting at least every other day to monitor the progress of the build-out. Having heard many construction horror stories from my school days, I was pleasantly surprised by how smoothly things were going as our kitchen and dining area took shape. When I mentioned this to Duke, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

“It’s my pleasure, kid. I owe Clay big time for helping one of my kids out of a major jam about ten years ago. He didn’t charge me a nickel because, at the time, I was in the process of being nailed to the wall by my soon-to-be ex. He’s never asked anything in return. So, when he calls me a few weeks ago and asks for me to look after you and Mizz Jenny, well I was more than happy.” Rubbing his finger on the side of his nose and grinning, he added, “I love working with cash-only customers, too. That’s always a bonus.”

Our interior designer, Denis St.Onge, was also quite good. He was so exactly what you would expect from his name, it was almost impossible to keep a straight face around him, though, as he was so much to type as to almost be a caricature of the mincing decorator queen. To my discomfiture, he made no bones about being attracted to me, much to Mom’s amusement. When it came to his work though, he was a total pro and had a sixth sense for exactly what Mom and I were looking for to establish the ambience of the restaurant. Even so, I tried to arrange for her to be around whenever we needed to meet. It seemed to keep his covetous glances and discrete pats of my ass to a minimum.

Mom had a field day with all of this the first time Denis came on to me, much to my embarrassment.

“Well, Ricky, if you ever wanted to try swinging both ways, this is your opportunity,” she’d teased. “Denis looks like he’d love to just gobble you up.”

“Holy crap, Mom. I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.”

“What’s the matter, son? I’ll bet he gives good head. It might just be the best oral sex you’d ever get.”

“Jesus,” I shuddered. “Are you deliberately trying to get me to blow my lunch?”

“I know how much my boy loves a good hose job. I’ll bet Denis swallows, too. Think of it as a novel life experience.”

“Are you quite through, Mom? I feel like I need to take a shower now.”

“Poor boy, can’t take a little ribbing?”

“There are limits and lines you shouldn’t cross, woman,” I grumbled.

“Yes, my thoroughly heterosexual son,” she giggled.

“Are you complaining, mother dear?”

“No, sweetie, just having a little fun.”

“All right then, subject closed,” I said firmly.

Eventually, we both were able to laugh about it. Mom had Denis’ mannerisms and body language down pat and derived considerable amusement from teasing me about his attraction to me. She’d put her hand on her hip and cock her pelvis just so, tossing her hair off her forehead, speaking in a deep, gravelly voice, “Girlfriend, you really must share with Denis. He’s just sooo delicious, I’d love a taste. You be sure to let that gorgeous boy know that Denis will be waiting, if he ever wants to take a walk on the wild side.”

Then I’d reply with my best Curly imitation, “Oh, a wise guy, eh?” and we’d be off to the races, usually out of breath from laughter in just a few minutes.

Again, I digress. While we were making good progress with the construction and decoration, I got a little too full of myself, thinking that I had it all knocked, that it was no big deal to get a restaurant up and running in three months, that I was somehow getting it all done myself, taking Mom’s extra efforts and help for granted. I guess, in a way, I was throwing my weight around, exerting my authority as chef-owner, because deep down I was still VERY nervous about failing. In a nutshell, for while I was a dick and an insecure fucktard.

This led directly to a big blow up one cold, wet evening in December. I can’t even remember exactly how things started, it was actually that trivial. I think we were having a spirited discussion about table placement, Mom emphasizing diner experience and me trying to maximize revenue-generating floor space. In the end I made some very rude and cutting remarks and grabbed my jacket, stomping out the front door, leaving Mom standing in the middle of the floor, her mouth hanging open in surprise and hurt at my outburst. As I argued with her, there was a little voice in the back of my mind telling me to cool my jets, that I was crossing the line, really hurting Mom’s feelings, but it was drowned out by my ego and insecurity.

I slammed the door behind me and got no more than five steps down the street when what I had just done hit me, literally hit me. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and I couldn’t catch my breath. I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, rain cascading off the awning of the restaurant, running down my neck, as the enormity of what I had done dawned on me.

I had just verbally savaged the love of my life over an absolutely inconsequential disagreement. It was unforgivable.

Dashing back into the building, I searched frantically for Mom in the dining area, but she was nowhere to be found. I walked back to the kitchen, a hard knot of nausea in the pit of my stomach as I came to the back office.

The door was closed. Behind it, I could hear Mom, quietly crying. Opening the door as quietly as possible, I could see her seated at the desk, her head buried in her arms. I moved behind her without speaking and put my hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it away angrily, her sobbing increasing, burrowing her head more tightly into her arms.

I was at a loss, trying to navigate completely uncharted waters. It had never occurred to me that loving Mom so much, that I could ever do anything intentionally to hurt or upset her. Yet here I was, having done the unthinkable. I don’t think I have ever felt as much guilt or self-loathing as I did at that very moment. I wanted to slit my wrists.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I was a total jerk. Please forgive me.”

Raising her head, she turned towards me, cheeks wet and eyes reddened. “Jerk?” she spat. “You were a complete asshole!”

I moved to squat next to her, eyes level. “And a fucking idiot, to boot. You didn’t deserve any of that. I can’t believe what I just did. How can I be such a bastard to my own mother, my lover? I’m such a shit,” I said dejectedly.

Wiping her tears with the palm of her hand, she swiveled in the chair to face me. “What’s gotten into you, son? What’s the problem here? Is it us, Ricky?” she asked softly, her lower lip trembling.

Groaning, I buried my face in her lap, arms encircling her waist. “Oh, God, no Mom. Not now, not ever. I’ll never stop loving you. It’s just that, well, I’m so worried about making everything work for the restaurant. I’m still afraid I’ll mess it all up. You’re always bailing me out when I’m about to screw something up and you’re working so hard all the time. And…and…I feel like such a dick for saying this, but sometimes I resent that I need so much help from you,” I said, my voice trailing off in shame.

It was then I felt her fingers running through my hair, lightly stroking. She sniffed a couple of times and spoke reassuringly, “It’s okay Ricky, I understand now. Never forget, we’re a couple. We’re a team. We enjoy the good and work through the bad together.”

She sighed and her hand strayed down to touch my cheek. “Remember son, sometimes it gets, well, it gets complicated and all knotted up. You’ve been thinking like a boy trying to untangle mom’s apron strings. I know how much you want to make this your achievement, to prove that you’re a successful man, but you don’t have anything to prove to your Mom…or to your lover. Just relax and roll with it. Ultimately, were going to succeed or fail on the basis of your talent.”

Squeezing her tightly, I mumbled into her skirt, “I don’t deserve you, Mom. You’re so smart, you know me so well. I don’t know if I could forgive you as quickly,” I sighed.

Pulling me up to meet her eyes, she lightly kissed me, cheeks, lips and forehead. “You don’t need to hide anything from me, sweetheart. I’m here for you. If something’s on your mind, please share it, okay?”

“Okay Mom. I’m sorry. I feel awful right now. No way you deserve what I did. I never want that to happen again, ever.”

“I know, Ricky. You’re still my guy, okay?”

I kissed her, slowly, thoroughly, trying to put as much tenderness into it as I could muster.

“And you’re still and always going to be my lady. I love you so much, Mom…so much.”

I pulled her up out of the chair and hugged her long and tight. Settling back into the chair, I drew her on to my lap. Holding her tight, I showered her with smooches.

Gradually, almost without noticing, our kisses became longer and longer and soon, her tongue found mine. We continued our embrace for some time, content to share ourselves simply, reforging our bond. Finally, I couldn’t take any more. I stood up, placing Mom on the edge of the desk. Reaching under her skirt, I slowly pulled her panties down. Kneeling in front of my place of worship, I tossed her underwear aside and gently parted her legs, showering the softness of her upper, inner thighs with licks and kisses.

“Mmmm, what are you up to down there, young man?”

“I’m finishing my apology, Mom,” I replied, my tongue finding her special place. As I consumed her nectar, I felt like a man lost in the desert, tumbling into a life-saving oasis. I licked, I slurped and kissed her everywhere while her hands gently clenched and unclenched in my hair. I delved into her from stem to stern, tongue lightly vibrating her nubbin, trailing down to her portal, diving in and then continuing to her little pucker, her most secret place, where I laved and probed wetly.

As she arched her back and pressed herself to my face, I lost myself in the task at hand. I wanted to totally lavish my attention on her, totally love her. I wasn’t the least concerned with my own needs. I wanted Mom to feel special again, and especially well loved by her adoring son. I continued until my neck was stiff and my lips and chin were raw with my exertions. I must have eaten her for at least an hour, bringing her to a half dozen climaxes, each more intense than the last.

Finally, she pushed me away with a sigh. “Oh God, baby. No more. No more, please. I can’t take it, you sweet, adorable boy. Jesus…”

I sat back on my haunches and grinned. “Sometimes, it’s not enough just to say ‘I’m sorry,’ Mom. Sometimes you need to do more. I am sorry, you know,” I continued softly, head down.

Putting her hands around the back of my neck, she drew me up for a kiss.

“Your apology is accepted, you wonderful man. A good son knows exactly how to set things right with his Mom when there’s a problem and you did just that, darling.”

Smiling gently, she pecked me again on the lips. “Let’s go to upstairs and get into bed together, you gorgeous hunk. I could wish for an argument every day if this is how we’re going to apologize to each other. I guess the old clichés about ‘make-up’ sex are true.”

Taking my hands, she pulled me to my feet. “C’mon lover, lets go make up some more.”


Eventually, after months of preparation, many sleepless nights and several false starts, “Casa di Mia Nonna” finally opened. I had sunk essentially every penny I inherited from Gramps and Nana into the place, but it was worth the risk. It was fully mine, not the bank’s.

Mom and I were ecstatic about how the final appearance turned out. Duke’s work managed to showcase the charming older features of the space while stripping the lines and structures down to an elegant, clean modernism. Denis and Mom came up with absolutely stunning, up to the minute Italian designs for all of the fabrics and furniture. Denis also was a genius with indirect lighting and muting of sound. Between the old fashioned bones of the building, the high ceilings, contemporary furnishings and illumination, we had a space that was intimate, just slightly decadent, but open and airy at the same time. You could have a conversation with your dining companion without shouting, but also didn’t have to worry about hearing the business going on at an adjacent table. The feel was very relaxed and informal, but at the same time sensual and stimulating to the senses.

Mom explained it this way, telling Denis she was looking for an ambience where “if you take your date here for a meal, by the time the evening is over, you’ll be taking him or her to bed afterwards, guaranteed.”

Mom had gone on to tell me about the fantasies she’d had about me actually fucking her in the booth at Sorvino’s, as though no one was there. This had been the initial inspiration for her idea of a very private booth for “really intimate” dining, a place where “if I wanted, I could suck your cock or even ride you and no one would know.”

This got me thinking (and also got me hard) about what was needed, and I came to the conclusion that the special booth lacked only one thing – the ability to have uninterrupted time with your companion. So I asked Mom, “What if you could get your waiter only when you wanted them?”

That was how we came up with the idea of a buzzer – summon your waiter only when needed. “You need enough time to be able to put your dick away or pull up your panties,” Mom agreed. Thus, the “private dining booth” was born.

Of course, all the atmosphere in the world doesn’t work if the food sucks. There, we excelled, all modesty aside. The heart of the menu was built around a number of Nana’s best recipes, brought over originally from her mother’s native Liguria and father’s Emilia Romagna. Some I updated and modernized to reflect current tastes, others were so damn good, I left well enough alone, letting them stand on their own.

Nana was never one to drown it in marinara, smother in mozzarella and bake the shit out of it. Her idea of “home cooking” was quite a bit more advanced, managing to be both comforting and sophisticated at the same time. She didn’t exactly deconstruct classics, but somehow managed to capture that elusive combination of simplicity, familiarity and a twist of surprising originality, which made all of her dishes memorable. These items comprised about half of the menu. The other half was my baby, a constantly changing, market-based series of recipes, some based on ideas of Nana’s, some entirely my own creations, but all emphasizing local seasonal products that were available at the peak of freshness only, with an Italian sensibility. One day might feature Fraser River King Salmon, served poached sous vide in saffron butter, over a bed of house-made linguine and baby vegetables or perhaps flash-seared, fresh halibut paired with risotto, made with local wild morels. There was never a shortage of fabulous ingredients to experiment with. Creatively and professionally, I was in hog heaven.

On the down side, I had learned the hard way just how green I truly was when it came to the actual business aspects of running a place, but fools rush in and all that. I would have failed miserably without Mom’s acumen. At least once a week, she discovered some potentially fatal flaw in my plans. After our only argument about launching the business, I learned to trust her judgment and her uncanny ability to spot the right hires for key positions among the wait staff and kitchen. I learned more about bookkeeping, accounts receivable and cash flow management in the 5 months leading up to the opening than I ever thought possible.

Throughout the whole process of my very painful apprenticeship in business, Mom was incredible. She was essentially working 2 full time jobs while pregnant with twins, putting in 14 to 16 hour days between her new practice and helping me get the restaurant ready to open. Many nights we were too tired for anything but a little cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, but I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have her with me through the whole process and at the same time, I felt terrible about how hard she was working.

I recall bringing it up with her the day we opened for business. She was actually probably more excited than I was about our first day, but as always, she noticed my pensive mood, almost before I was aware of it myself.

We stood in the doorway of the back office, surveying the bustle of cleanup at closing time. There was an air of excitement and purposeful energy in the kitchen as our motely group went through the process of shutting down for the evening, our wait staff clustered around one prep counter dividing up the evening’s tips and the line crew helping the dishwashers square away the last of the pots, pans and utensils.

Slipping her arm around my waist, she drew me close, her baby bump pushing against my hip, kissing my ear.

“Congratulations, son,” she whispered. “I knew you could do it.”

Heaving a sigh, I squeezed her back. “Thanks Mom. Without you, it wouldn’t have even gotten off the ground. You worked even harder than I did and saved my bacon more times than I can count. All I did was to yell at you and be a dickhead about stuff.”

“Bullshit, Ricky!” she scolded. “This was just as much a labor of love for me as it was for you. And don’t you ever bring up that stupid argument again, you hear me?”

She turned my head and kissed me thoroughly, speaking softly and seriously. “I don’t expect perfection, my darling. I know you do your best to make me happy every day, and I’m blessed for that. Besides, I could almost wish for another argument. I’m not likely to forget your ‘apology’ any time soon,” she giggled. “That was some of the hottest, best sex I’ve ever had and that’s saying a lot, given the standard you’d set before, hotshot.”

I turned fully to face her and drew her close, giving her a proper thank you kiss. As we melted together and our tongues became reacquainted, her arms slipped around my shoulders and she moaned into my mouth. Our kiss intensified and the world receded for a time, until our clinch was interrupted by a smattering of applause and a couple of cheerful catcalls.

“Someone get a bucket of water!”

“Cut down on those oysters, Chef!”

Blushing, we broke apart, holding hands.

I am very businesslike about how we run our establishment, but I like to maintain an atmosphere of informality and mutual respect amongst the staff, so the teasing didn’t bother me at all. While no one suspected our secret, we never made any bones about of our affection or passion for one another, so this was not the first time we were seen snogging away in the scullery.

Smiling softly and pinching my butt, Mom propelled me gently back towards the sinks, whispering in my ear as I went.

“Get out there any help your people, Ricky. The sooner you get them out the door, the sooner we get to go upstairs. Mother needs your nice, hard cock again tonight.”

I always listen to what my Mom says.


We started to generate a little buzz on Yelp and Zagat after the first couple of weeks, but were still just a little better than breaking even after our first month, with no major reviews forthcoming.

I was starting to wonder if we were going to sink without a trace, not even leaving a ripple behind us as my future disappeared. It was a huge struggle to maintain a positive outlook. Our fortunes changed about 7 or 8 weeks after opening, hinging as these things often do, upon an unexpected crisis. We were just beginning to ramp up for Saturday dinner when Mom came into the kitchen, her face grim. “Alicia (our best hostess) just called off. She broke her wrist this morning, poor girl. She’s having surgery right now and is going to be out for at least a week. I’ve tried calling Brendan and Meghan also, but neither are picking up. What are we going to do?”

“If we could call Alain back to work a double, then he could take over.” The most senior member of our wait staff, Alain was a 30-year veteran of the restaurant scene who had recently fallen on hard times because of difficulties in his personal life, which he would not elaborate on. He had been one of Mom’s “intuition hires” and had been an enormous help to me in getting the place running properly. Having received a second chance from us, he was fiercely loyal to the restaurant. “Mom, do you think you could fill in until he gets here?”

“Ricky! I’m 6 months pregnant, my feet are killing me and I have zero experience!” she exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Trust me on this, Mom. You’ve got great people skills and your attention to detail is ferocious. You’ll do fine until Alain gets in. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. I took her hand and squeezed it – I trust you and your intuition. It’ll be fine.”

Heaving a sigh and squaring her shoulders, Mom went back out to the front desk and got to work. She came back ten or fifteen minutes later, an odd look on her face. “Can you step out for just a minute, Rick?”

Discretely guiding me to a vantage point where I could see the entrance, Mom pointed out a couple who appeared to be walk-ins. There was an obvious family resemblance between the woman and young man who accompanied her. She was about 5′ 6″, with an ample, yet curvaceous figure, which was shown to excellent advantage by a colorful, off-the shoulder peasant blouse and matching scarf along with a hip hugging, wine colored leather skirt.

Her companion was a somewhat stocky, but well-developed young man who stood about 5’9″, dressed casually in a pair of Levis, a plain white polo shirt and a black leather bomber jacket. Both had straight, jet-black hair, his worn in a long pony tail, hers in a retro-looking 50′s style pageboy. I couldn’t see her face well, as her back was turned to me, appearing to be engaged in a lively conversation with her young escort.

After watching their interactions, I could see why Mom wanted me to take a look. Answering the unasked question, I said, “They sure look like a couple, don’t they?”

“I’d stake my reputation on it. I’m thinking, Ricky. Should we offer them the private table?”

“Your intuition strikes again Mom. If there are no reservations, go for it.”

Remaining discretely in the background, I watched Mom approach them. A brief discussion ensued, which I could not hear clearly, but judging by the way the young man’s face lit up, Mom had hit yet another home run.

I caught some of the conversation as Mom led them to the cunningly hidden, enclosed alcove where the private booth was located. “Our private table can be waited upon traditionally, of course, but if you are willing to be a little less orthodox, we can provide a more discrete level of service to you. If you wish, all you need to do is to press the button on the table when you need something. I can attend you personally this evening, if you would like. My name is Jennifer.”

“Thank you so much, Jennifer,” the woman replied. “We’re really looking forward to the meal. I’ve heard a lot of good things about your place.”

“Not at all. A mother’s time with her son is very precious and not to be wasted. I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

With that, Mom escorted them out of sight and we resumed our regular activities. I went back into the kitchen to talk to the line crew. “We have a special couple at the private table, guys, so I want you to pull out all the stops tonight, okay?”

About a half hour later, Mom came back into the kitchen, her face flushed. Taking me into the meat locker, she kissed me passionately and groped my crotch. “You’d better be ready to fuck me royally after we close up, buster. I’m so turned on right now, I can’t stand it. I know for sure that the private table woman sucked her son off between courses. When I brought out the entrees, I’m pretty sure he had been fingering her, too.”

“I have to say Mom, when I first heard your idea for the private table, I wasn’t sure, but now, it seems like a stroke of genius,” I groaned, kissing her feverishly. As she responded, her mouth opening to tangle tongues, I slipped my hand up her dress to cup her pussy through her panties, which were absolutely sopping.

Struggling to regain her composure, she removed my hand with a shiver. “We’ve got people to feed, Ricky. You can make it up to me later.”

About 45 minutes later, Mom came back to the kitchen. “Alain is here now, so I’ll be handing off to him. Also, the couple in the private room would like to talk with me.” Mom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I have no idea what that’s about.”

Taking her hand, I pulled her towards the kitchen door. “Shall I come with you?” Mom nodded and I took her hand on the way out the door.

Entering the private room, I thought I could detect very faintly the aroma of fresh semen and female musk. I wasn’t sure that it was real, or a figment of my imagination, fueled and influenced by Mom’s earlier comments. To all appearances, though, the couple at the table seemed relaxed and composed. I was very surprised, however, when the woman got up to introduce herself.

“My name is Molly O’Donnell and this is my son, Mitch. We’d like to thank you for an extraordinary evening. The service was exemplary, the food was delicious and the overall attention to detail was superb. You have a winner here, in my opinion.”

“Not THE Molly O’Donnell?” I asked.

“I’m afraid so,” she said self deprecatingly.

Turning to Mom I began to explain “Ms. O’Donnell-”

“Please, call me Molly. I insist.”

“Okay, thanks.” Turning again to Mom, I explained, “Molly is the lead restaurant critic for the Times-Herald and also the food and dining editor for “City Today” magazine.”

Mom’s eyes widened briefly in surprise. “We’re delighted you enjoyed your evening with us. We hope to see you again.”

I produced my business card and wrote on the back. “These are our personal cell numbers. Please call one of us directly the next time you’d like to drop by. We’ll make every effort to see that the private room is available.”

Glancing at the card, she started in surprise. “You’re the executive chef?” she exclaimed. “How old are you, Rick?”

“I’ll be 26 in a couple of months,” I lied, padding my age a little bit.

“Amazing. You are a prodigious talent, young man. I will be following your career with great interest from now on.”

Turning to Mom, she asked “Jennifer, you don’t strike me as the typical hostess type. What is your connection with the restaurant?”

Glancing at Mom, I arched an eyebrow in question. Once again on the same wavelength, she gave an imperceptible affirmative nod. “Rick is my son. We own the place.”

Suddenly, the silence was deafening. Molly’s jaw dropped in surprise as she took in the information. As she glanced at Mom, a distinct flush appeared on her throat and upper chest, but not, I thought, from embarrassment. “Extraordinary…absolutely extraordinary.”

Moving closer to Mom, I put my arm possessively around her waist, bringing it up so it rested just below her breast. “We’re expecting twins in 3 months.”

Mitch spoke for the first time as he also rose from behind the table, his crotch slightly bulging with the beginnings of an erection. “Too fucking cool,” he said, coming to his mother’s side. He cupped her ass cheek with calm familiarity.

Molly cast a smoldering glance at her son, suddenly a bit unstable on her feet. “Unbelievable, simply unbelievable,” she whispered.

Appearing to come to a decision, Mom spoke. “Molly, would it be out of line if I offered you a favor, one mother to another?”

Molly appeared to be having difficulty concentrating. She was unconsciously mirroring her son’s actions, kneading his ass with intensity. The aroma of aroused female was suddenly quite evident within the room. “W…w…what’s that, Jennifer?”

Producing her keychain from a dress pocket, Mom peeled off our apartment key. “Next to the restroom alcove there’s a locked door. Go up the stairs and you’ll be in our flat. The master suite is the second door on the left, off the main hallway. Sheets are fresh,” she said with a wink. “I don’t want to worry about you two making it home safely.”

“That’s extremely generous, Jennifer, but you hardly know us.”

“Please, I insist. If I do say so, I’m an excellent judge of people. I have a strong feeling we’re going to end up being good friends.” She pushed the key into Molly’s hand and repeated what she had said earlier in the evening. “A mother’s time with her son is very precious.”

“Rick, Jennifer, you are without a doubt the most extraordinary couple I’ve ever met. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

“Rick is going to need to get back to the kitchen, but when you’re ready to leave, I’ll be in the back office. Do please come by. I always love a chance for girl talk with kindred souls very often.”

“We’ll see you later,” I said, taking my leave.

About 3 hours later, as we were closing the kitchen, Molly and Mitch reappeared, looking refreshed and relaxed. Molly had that “I’ve just been fucked REALLY well” glow about her. I took them to the back office to chat with Mom, explaining that I was needed to help with cleanup.

Molly was very surprised when I left. “You do clean up? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“It’s a leadership function, Molly. You complemented us on our attention to detail. Part of getting the troops to care about ALL the little things is being willing to roll up your own sleeves and help the team. Look, I know I’m a pretty good cook, but I would be nowhere if my crew didn’t care about doing their jobs as best they can.”

Turning to Mom, Molly shook her head. “You’ve raised a wonderful, wise son and a good man, Jennifer.”

“Please, Molly. My friends call me Jen. Yes, that’s why I love him so much, and in so many ways.”

Glancing at Mitch, Mom said “You don’t need to hang with us old ladies, Mitch. You can go out and talk with Rick if you want.”

“Thanks, Jen, but a son’s time with his Mom is precious,” he replied with a smile. “I never get tired of being with her. Besides, what man in his right mind would not want to spend time with a couple of beautiful women, who, by the way, are very far from old.”

“You haven’t done too badly yourself in the son department, Molly,” Mom observed with a smile.

“Thanks again for you kindness and generosity, Jen. I’ll treasure this evening always.”

“Nonsense. Kindred spirits have to look out for each other. Just don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“We won’t. Listen, I’ve been thinking. My review for the paper will come out in 4 days. You’ll want to check it out and get prepared.”

“Get prepared, Molly?”

“Yes. Though I say it who shouldn’t, when the review hits the presses and then my blog and Facebook page, you’re going to be really busy. With all due modesty, I’ve got a lot of pull in this town. You should know that you are going to be the first new restaurant in my 15 years on the beat that I’ve given 5 stars to out of the gate – and it’s NOT because of your personal interest in Mitch and me. Rick is that good. He’s going to take this town by storm, especially after City Today does a feature article on him and Casa di Mia Nonna. We’ll shoot for the March issue on that. I’ll be talking to my editor tomorrow – and don’t worry, no personal information that you don’t approve. I’ll do the interview myself. After that though, I’ll have to recuse myself from further reviews. I’d much rather be your friend.” She gave Mom a hug.

“C’mon Mitch. I need to get home and write my review. After that, I need some more of your good lovin’.”


Clean up seemed to be progressing quickly. I went out front to personally thank Alain for bailing us out for the evening. “It was my plaisir, Monsieur Rick. Am I correct zat Madame O’Donnell dined with us this evening?”

“Indeed. Il a été un grand succès, Alain.”

“Magnifique! I am very much delighted for you and Madame Jenny. You both have worked so hard for this. I am touched in my heart for both of you, that two such kind people should have a good reward. But I am thinking, you should celebrate. Please allow me to close up tonight. Take your lovely woman upstairs and leave everything else to me. I insist.”

“Merci beaucoup, Alain. I will do that. See you in the morning.”

“Bonsoir, young Master Chef.”

I saw Alain and the last stragglers of the kitchen crew out the door and locked up. Moving quickly to the back office, I entered and closed the door behind me. Mom looked up from the desk as I came through the door. In one glance to each other, our mutual purpose was instantly clear and in three seconds she was in my arms. There would be no wait to get upstairs to our bed. As we broke our kiss to catch our breath, Mom moaned in my ear. “God, Ricky, I’m soooo hot! My panties were soaking all evening. I was practically sticking to the chair!”

Gliding my hand up the back of her thigh, I cupped her ass cheek and then slid my hand inside the back of her gusset, slipping my finger into her wetness. She immediately began to thrust herself against my probing digit. “Ohhh, God, Ricky. I need you inside me NOW!” she moaned, fumbling for my zipper.

“Jesus Mom! You’re on fire…so wet!”

Mom was pulling me back towards the desk as she unbuckled my pants, her hand shoving down past the waistband of my boxers to grasp my cock, urgently stroking it. As her knees touched the back of the desk, she leaned back, hitching her skirt up to her waist. Pulling me towards her by my prick, she spread her legs, pulling her panties to one side as she guided me into her dripping pussy.

“Fuck me hard, sweetie. Fuck your mother hard, son.”

Mom’s passion was incendiary; she was as aroused as I’ve ever seen her. Something about that other incestuous couple, combined with her already heightened pregnancy-related baseline horniness had wound her up into a cyclone of desire. Grabbing my buttocks, nails digging sharply into my skin, she urged me inwards. “Come on lover, give me ALL of that wonderful cock. I need every inch, baby!”

As I began stroking in earnest, Mom arched her back slightly and pushed her pelvis out to meet me, bracing her hands out to her sides to better thrust, her head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. We quickly settled into a fast, take no prisoners rhythm, cock and cunt squishing, flesh slapping loudly – a truly lusty, hard fuck with a single mutual goal – explosive orgasm as quickly as possible.

“Ahhh, that’s it baby, take care of Mommy. Your cock feels so good inside me,” she crooned, her baby bump pushing against my abdomen.

“Fuck, Mom, you feel so hot, so tight,” I moaned.

Circling my hands around to the small of her back, I slid her forward to the very edge of the desk to increase our contact, rooting myself as deeply as I could inside her, grinding and alternately pushing myself in to the last possible millimeter, occasionally pulling all the way out of her dripping sheath, only to slam back in as hard as I could. With the first full withdrawal and slam back into her honey pot, she moaned, throwing her arms around my neck, leaning forward to bury her face in my shoulder. With each cycle of out, push, grind and out, Mom moaned loader and louder, each one followed by a low grunt as I slammed back into her depths. As I picked up the pace her moans became almost continuous and her response to my invasion becoming less coordinated and more jerky as she crept closer to her release. Very shortly, her legs came up around my waist in a fleshy vise grip and she bit my shoulder, hard, as she tried to muffle her climax.

When she flooded my prick with her juice, that sent me over the edge as well and I thrust back to her womb with a growl, crushing her ass cheeks in my grip as I pushed with all my might, as if to try to return in whole body to my point of origin.

As I shot off inside my mother lover, the feel of my semen detonated another miniorgasm for her and she shuddered and spasmed against me yet again.

As we slowly and haltingly returned from our personal nirvana, Mom linked her arms around my neck and drew me in for a long, tender kiss.

“Holy shit, Ricky,” she breathed. “You better call 911. I got run over by that goddamn truck again. I don’t think I can move.”

“Me either,” I rasped, out of breath. “That was two counties beyond intense.”

Heaving a large sigh of contentment, I kissed her back. “I suppose that’s to be expected when you get to fuck the sexiest woman on the planet.”

“Hmmph. Almost seven months pregnant, with flat feet and swelling legs – I don’t think so,” Mom grumbled. It’s unfortunate that you’re going blind at such a young age.”

“I’m entitled to my opinion and I stand by it. Pregnancy agrees with you, Mom; you absolutely glow, and when you come, you make the Mona Lisa look like Leon Spinks.”

“You’re demented. A sweetheart, but demented. Definitely a lost cause.”

“Shut up and kiss me, momma love.”

She did and I did back. After a few more minutes of bliss, we inspected the damages and straightened things up a bit.

Mom finished putting the pencil cup, stapler, scattered papers, assorted writing implements and folder organizer back into place, retrieving them from the floor, casualties of our romp. Inspecting the desktop with her hands on her hips, Mom shook her head in disgust.

“Damn. Guess I’ll have to go to Staples tomorrow. Look what you did to the desk blotter, Ricky. It’s soaked with cum.”

“Now hold on just a minute! What I did? That looks like a joint effort to me, Miss Niagara Falls!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll concede I was just a little wet myself. Tell you what – we’ll go halfsies on the damages, all right?”

“Hmmph. I don’t think so. It wasn’t me who couldn’t wait to get upstairs.”

“Speaking of upstairs, I’m not through with you yet, my sexy son. It’s time to take you mother to bed.”

I always obey my Mom – I’m a good son, I am.


Molly was as good as her word. Within a week of the review, we were fully booked 4 weeks in advance. After the magazine article, which was so complimentary it made my ears burn, we stayed booked three months ahead. Eight months after opening, I bought out the building and tripled our capacity, including a half dozen special private dining areas. Working them into the floor plan was a big challenge, but we made it happen in the end. Those usually were booked at least 4 or 5 months in advance, but we kept one open for our best customers and for Mitch and Molly.

A year and a half after startup, we opened a downtown branch, catering to the executive lunch crowd. Even though I was busier than ever, we were very happy. Perhaps the best part of our early success was that it allowed Mom to disengage from the day-to-day grind of the restaurant and to fully concentrate on building her legal practice again, also resting up in the later stages of her second pregnancy with our son, Jason. More on that later; right now I want to mention something that happened at the end of Mom’s first pregnancy.


I had been making preparations in secret for some time, with Mitch and Molly as my co-conspirators. I knew the timing was close, with Mom’s due date only about a week away, but I was determined to get everything done properly. In addition to the usual fees, I had to provide some significant extra inducements to find someone who would be specifically free on Mother’s Day, but in the end I was successful. After some significant cajoling, Molly was able to convince Mom to come out so we could celebrate Mother’s Day as a foursome. I had snuck out earlier in the week to our safety deposit box to get Mom’s passport and made sure I had my “official” Canadian ID on hand, so the preparations were complete.

Molly and Mitch arrived on time to pick us up and we headed down Hastings Street, cutting across on Burrard and down to Cornwall Avenue. As we passed through Kitsilano, Mom turned to me with a questioning look. “Just where are we going, Ricky? I don’t know of any restaurants out this way.”

“It’s a Mother’s Day surprise. You’ll know in just a few more minutes.”

“My, my, aren’t we smug and mysterious. Just remember hotshot, my back aches, my feet are swollen and I’m feeling pretty ornery,” Mom growled. “You mess with me at your own peril today.”

“We’re going to Point Grey,” I smiled, patting her knee. “I promise you will be happy when we get there.”

After about 10 more minutes of driving, we pulled onto a shady, tree-lined street, stopping in front of a neat, compact, white clapboard cottage. I helped Mom out of the car, escorting her up the flagstone path of the cottage. As we walked up to the porch, Mom dug her elbow into my side.

“What’s going on here, Ricky? You got some ‘splainin’ to…d…Oh my God.” Mom clutched my arm as we arrived on the threshold. An elegant, understated brass plate etched in Spenserian script announced “Lena Ornesby, Marriage Commissioner.”


“Happy Mother’s Day,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine. “It’s time to make an honest woman out of you.”

I rang the doorbell. It was answered shortly by an elderly lady. Although slightly slowed by age, she maintained a regal bearing. Her silver hair was stylishly coiffed and she was elegantly dressed in an old-fashioned embroidered front blouse and gray wool skirt. Even though lined with the passage of many years, her face could only be described as patrician. One could tell at a glance that in her younger days, she must have been a woman of considerable grace and beauty.

“Welcome, please come in. I’m Lena Ornesby.” Turning to address Molly and Mitch, she asked “Richard and Jennifer?”

“That would be us,” I corrected, putting my arm around Mom’s waist, pulling her close.

Our Commissioner arched an eyebrow briefly in surprise, but quickly regained her composure. “Excellent. Let’s step into the parlor. It looks like we shouldn’t waste any time,” she added drily, glancing at Mom’s abdomen.

As we stood in the sunlit parlor, surrounded by antique furniture and old paintings, Eyes wide with surprise, Mom slipped her arm around my waist and murmured in my ear. “I love you, my son. But I’m still going to absolutely kill you after this. Shame on you for sneaking up on me like that!”

“Happy Mother’s Day,” I whispered back, grinning evilly.

Mrs. Ornesby cleared her throat to gain our attention. Gathering her thoughts, she slipped into her official mode. “Very well. We’ll take care of the bureaucratic nonsense first. Mr. Lewis, you have the marriage license? Good. I’ll need to see some identification. Miss Lindermann – I see you’re an American citizen. I’ll need to see some additional identification besides your passport. Ah, let’s see here…New Jersey driver’s license and…your work visa papers. Excellent. Mr. Lewis – Canadian identification card and provincial driving license? Excellent. And your two witnesses are here? Everything appears to be in order. I think we can begin.”

“Are you going to exchange rings as well as vows today?”

Mitch stepped forward, producing two small cases. “I have them here.”

Turning to Mom, I took both of her hands in mine. “I think we already know what we’re going to say to each other, don’t we?”

I began. “Jennifer Marie, my love, my best friend, will you consent to take me, Richard Alan as your husband? I promise to stand by you through all times and trials, always faithful and always doing only that which will bring you happiness and joy, for as long as I shall live.” Taking her ring from Mitch, I placed the simple, solid gold band on her finger.

Still in a state of shock over my well-sprung surprise, Mom was clearly overwhelmed. Tears running down her face, lips slightly quivering, she spoke her part, recalling her original private vows as clearly as I did mine. “Oh, Ricky, my love…I take you as my beloved husband, also promising faith, joy and happiness for all our lives. I will always be at your side, in the best of times and the worst of times. I will never leave you, as long as I shall live.” She placed the companion ring on my finger, hands slightly trembling as she did so.

Mrs. Ornesby spoke again. “That was quite moving. Short, but heartfelt and sweet. I can tell you will uphold those vows.” Pausing to revert to her Official Persona, she pronounced “Very well. By the powers and responsibilities vested in me by the Government of the Province of British Columbia, it is my duty and pleasure to now pronounce you man and wife. Congratulations – you may kiss the bride.”

Oh boy, did I kiss my bride. Mom just melted in my arms and our kiss went on for a good minute, with much tongue tangling and more than one moan from each of us. I think we scandalized Mrs. Ornesby just a little bit. Finally we stepped back from one another to regain our breaths. I gazed at my new wife adoringly and she returned my look in spades.

I pulled her back to me for a second, gentle kiss on the lips, gazing into her beautiful blue eyes. As the kiss continued, Mom’s eyes widened slightly and she broke away, whispering “Oh shit.” I felt dampness on my pants leg and looked down to see fluid running down the inside of both of Mom’s thighs, dampening the rug beneath our feet. Her water had broken.

Turning to Mrs. Ornesby, I began to apologize, but her attention was directed at Mom’s feet. She was speechless for a moment and then managed to muster a faint “Oh my goodness.”

“I’m terribly sorry, but we need to leave right now. Please send me a bill for the carpet cleaning,” I added as we hustled Mom out the door.

As we semi-ran down the sidewalk, I glanced back over my shoulder. Mrs. Ornesby was standing on the threshold. Shaking her head as she closed the door, I heard her clipped Oxonian accent one last time.

“Well, I’ll be fucked.”

As we got into Mitch and Molly’s car, I hit the speed dial on my cell phone. I spoke with our OB’s answering service and began a nervous wait for the call back. Within a few minutes, she returned the call, directing us to St. Paul’s.

I was in a state of maximum stress as we made our way to the hospital. Mom was calm and serene, holding my hand. “Don’t worry darling, everything’s going to be fine. It’s not as though I haven’t been down this road before.”

I was very glad at least one of us was holding it together. To be very honest, I was so anxious during the whole process, I can barely remember any of the details leading up to the delivery, a typical new father reaction, I suppose.

One thing I do recall clearly though, is filling out Mom’s admission paperwork and checking the “married” box under marital status. It seems silly how important that little detail was, the result of a simple 5-minute civil ceremony. Mom and I said our most important vows to each other 9 months earlier, and yet I was very, very happy that we had done the deed, so to speak. I guess it was my way of saying “I love my Mother” to the whole world, even if it was done obliquely and indirectly.

Mom’s labor was mercifully short, only lasting about an hour. Except for a couple times when she called me a ‘bad motherfucker,’ to the amusement of the labor and delivery team, it was blessedly uneventful. I’m sure they attributed Mom’s remarks to the stresses of childbirth. Deirdre Lynn made her way into our lives at about 2:36 pm, followed by her sister, Anna Marie about five minutes later, each as beautiful as their mom. Of course, both were actually red, wrinkled and squalling lumps of vulnerable protoplasm, but they were also the love I had for my mother, made flesh.

Our daughters were whisked off to the newborn nursery all too quickly while the team got Mom cleaned up and comfortable. I gave her a tender kiss and I excused myself and headed to the nursery to see our daughters. As I stood in the viewing window, looking at the new lives I was responsible for, all of a sudden it hit me like a meteor strike.

It’s not too much of a stretch to come to the realization that you can be a good husband to someone, but when you first fully comprehend the responsibilities of being a father, it makes you weak in the knees. The sheer open-endedness of everything is enough to make you shit your pants. So, I ended up doing something I had rarely thought about in the past. I went to the hospital chapel and offered up a heartfelt prayer of thanks for my many blessings and a plea for strength and wisdom.

After some flailing around with the hospital admissions folks, I found Mom’s room. She was propped up in bed, Deirdre in the crook of her right arm, Anna on the left. She looked a bit wan and fatigued, but radiantly happy as well. I sat on the edge of the bed and kissed all three of my ladies. Brushing Mom’s hair back over her ears, I choked up a little. “They’re as gorgeous as their mother. You done really, really good, Mom.”

A small tear ran down Mom’s cheek. “If they’re beautiful, it’s because of what we have between us, son. I can only think of one time in my entire life when I’ve been so happy.”

I grinned at Mom. “The two sort of go together, don’t they?”

Our nurse showed up to return the girls to the nursery. After she departed, I sat on the bed next to Mom, holding her in my arms, sharing tender kisses. Reaching for her left hand, I pulled the wedding ring from her finger and then removed mine. Mom looked at me questioningly. I put both rings in her palm and gestured for her to look inside each one. My inscription was “Loving Son.” Hers was “Beloved Mother.”

Mom shed a few more tears and squeezed my hand. She slipped my ring back on and I did the same. “Thank you, Ricky. Thank you for everything today, my wonderful husband-son.”

“You’re welcome, wife-mom.” I held her for a while, stroking her hair and cheeks, until she fell asleep, a small smile on her lips.


In May, when we were blessed with Deirdre Lynn and Anna Marie, our lives were forever changed and enriched. Eighteen months later, Jason Michael was born, followed not quite two years later by Emily Jeanne. Carrying little Emmy was very tough on Mom, requiring her to be on bed rest the last two months of her pregnancy.

Seeing Mom struggle through her third trimester had me feeling a bit guilty for my part in the proceedings and I offered to get cut to simplify things in the future, but Mom wasn’t having any of it.

“Ricky, I don’t want you to burn any bridges. You’re still young. What if something happened to me? Suppose you remarried and wanted more children? I don’t want you to lose that possibility.”

“That’s a bunch of bull, Mom,” I retorted. “First, I don’t want any more kids, under any circumstance, especially with anyone else, period. Second, if anything happened to you, I don’t think I’d get over it in the way you’re thinking. There’s not a single girl in the world who can compare to you, Mom. You ‘ruined’ me a long time ago for all other women. It wouldn’t be the same and anyone I theoretically would be with would always be compared to you, to everyone’s loss. That just ain’t gonna happen.”

“It’s this simple, Mom, you’re it for me,” I said, taking her hand and kissing it.

“You still say the nicest things to your mother, Ricky.”

“Tell you what, hot chick, we’ll compromise. We’ll both do some snipping and clipping after you deliver. That way we’ll be double sure. How’s that?”

“I’m still not sure that you should do this, Ricky.”

“What are you worried about, Mom? Is there anything else you’re not telling me, pretty lady?”

Smiling slightly and shaking her head, Mom said, “No, sweetheart, just being a worrywart mother, I guess.”

“Are you worried I’ll taste different if I do this?” I asked slyly.

“Ricky! You are so bad!” Mom exclaimed, blushing furiously. “That is most definitely NOT what I’m worried about. You almost always taste yummy,” she added with a smile.

“Almost always?” I retorted, pretending to be hurt.

“Well, there was that time last April when I did you in the meat locker downstairs. I seem to recall that you had eaten a lot of fresh asparagus that day. That wasn’t quite as nice as usual. Other than that, I have no complaints.”

“I really don’t care for asparagus all that much anyway. I can live without it.”

“Such a sacrifice!”

“Anything for my Queen.”


Up to the point of Emily’s delivery, our lives had been nearly idyllic, filled with professional success, wonderful children and an abiding romance, which left us feeling lucky every day. Day to day existence was pleasantly routine, filled with the normal events of any other marriage, including the barely contained chaos that comes with raising small children.

Life took an abrupt 180-degree turn when we greeted Emmy into our family. As Mom was delivering, the atmosphere in the birthing suite was different, strained and tense. During delivery, Emmy’s vital signs were worrisomely weak. The delivery team spoke in hushed tones with one another, no one looking us in the eye as things progressed. Just as the baby was crowning, the obstetrician turned to me and said, “I don’t like the look of this.” She then spoke to the team, “Get the neonatologist on call and contact the NICU, we’re going to need a bed STAT.”

Following the delivery, the contrast with our previous babies couldn’t have been more stark. The brief view of the limp form with weak cries and bluish-gray skin was totally outside my comprehension. Emmy was whisked to a procedure table at the side of the room and the air began to fill with terrifying, incomprehensible jargon. “Apgars are only 3-4 out of 8.” “Spontaneous respirations, very weak.” “Tachypnea, cyanosis and bradycardia, breath sounds poor.” “Need to intubate now. We’ll need a STAT echo in the NICU. Who’s on call for Cardiology today?” Within 5 minutes, our newest child had disappeared into the intensive care unit and what should have been a joyous day turned into a waking nightmare.

About an hour later, the pediatric cardiologist came to see us in Mom’s room. His demeanor was serious. He paused, seeming to want to choose his words carefully. Mom looked him in the eye and spoke clearly, eyes glistening with tears. “Just tell us how bad it is, just give us the straight truth.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, I’m Dr. Sandoval. Emily has a serious cardiac problem. There is a large hole in her heart between two chambers. The bad news is that this is potentially life threatening. The good news is that it can be fixed, but it needs to happen now. With your permission, I would like to send your daughter by air ambulance over to Children’s Hospital. The surgery can take place later this afternoon, if you agree.”

I got up from Mom’s side and gripped him by the arm. “Don’t waste a minute Doc, get moving now.”

Cheeks wet, lips trembling, Mom nodded in agreement. She held herself together until Dr. Sandoval departed and then lost it. I rushed to her side and held her in my arms as she buried her face in my chest and sobbed. After a long while, she quieted. “We’ve got to be positive, Mom. There’s nothing we can do except hope and pray. Right now I’m thinking about my four blessings,” I said softly, stroking her hair. “They are: Anna, Deirdre, Jason and Jennifer. Whatever else happens, I’m not going to lose sight of that.”

Mom wiped her tears with the palm of her hand and smiled weakly. “You’re right, sweetheart. She hugged me and whispered “Thank you for being so strong, son. You’re my rock. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom, and more every day.” I got up and rummaged in her purse, extracting her Blackberry. “Keep this with you. I’m going down to the NICU to see how things are going with the transfer. I’ll head over to Children’s as soon as I know.”

The afternoon of Emmy’s transfer and the four hours of her surgery were the longest day of my life. I wore holes in the carpet between the chapel and the SICU waiting room. I drank and peed enough coffee to float a battleship.

When I heard the surgery was finished and Emmy’s surgeon called me into the consultation room next to the waiting area, I feared the worst. Gesturing me to a seat, she apologized. “Hi, I’m Dr. Prieto. Sorry to drag you in here Mr. Lewis, but we have to obey privacy rules whenever we discuss patients. Okay, bottom line – little Emily did great. I expect her to make a full recovery. The repair went as well as any case of its type I have ever done. Barring any post-op complications, I believe we can think in terms of her going in home in about a week.”

I was glad I was sitting down, because the release of tension was so great, my knees probably would have given out. I was so happy, so relieved I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs. I think Dr. Prieto was a bit alarmed by the manic gleam in my eyes, but I did just barely manage to resist the temptation to give her a big bear hug. I was also so relieved that I almost slipped up in a big way. I nearly said “I’m going back to St. Paul’s to tell Mom,” but I managed to catch myself and simply said “I need to get back to tell my wife. When will we be able to see her?”

Dr. Prieto smiled and slid her surgical cap off and then gripped my arm reassuringly. “If things go well, tomorrow afternoon should be possible.”

I left my cell number at the nursing station as I bolted out the door. I wanted to tell Mom the good news in person. When I walked in the door unannounced, she showed a split second of panic, which immediately transformed to a radiant smile as she saw me grinning from ear to ear.

“Our little girl did great, Mom. Emmy’s going to be okay. She’s going to be on a number of medications for quite a while, maybe even one or two for life, but she’s coming home, baby, she’s gonna come home.” At that point I choked up and lost it for a little bit myself and it was Mom’s turn to hold me. After I calmed down, I gave her the rest of the news. “Her surgeon says we can probably see her tomorrow. I’m going to stay with you until we both can go together.”

Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. I could practically see the stress flow out of her body as she relaxed. She closed her eyes and fell immediately asleep, the small smile I love so well playing across her lips as she snored lightly. I flopped into the chair next to her bed, too wired from coffee to rest. I simply sat and watched her sleep, again counting my blessings.

We had a bit of difficulty getting out the next day, mom’s OB concerned about being up and about so quickly after the delivery, but in the end I promised to personally ferry her everywhere in a wheelchair for the next several days, so the doc relented.

When we finally got to actually hold Emily after her surgery it was a red-letter day. That first time is always a magical moment, but this time, it was absolutely overflowing with emotion. I have never felt such a powerfully protective feeling or a deeper appreciation of the fragility of life.


A couple months after Emmy joined us, I was approached by a major resort chain about opening a named restaurant at their flagship property in Whistler. With Mom handling the negotiations, the hotel executives never knew what hit them. Over four months we hammered out the details and came to an agreement. Four months after that, preparations for the new restaurant began. So, at the tender age of 28, our financial security assured, I began to take stock. As exhilarating as the ride had been, I was tired.

Supervisory and quality assurance headaches go up with the square of the number of properties, so I felt stretched to the breaking point. It all came to a head as the Whistler deal became operational, when I was away from home for over 3 weeks without a break. Even though I was less than two hours away and we phoned each other at least twice a day, it felt like ten thousand miles. I was so busy I barely had time to go to the bathroom. I missed my kids. I missed the relatively simple process of running a single restaurant. Most of all, I missed Mom’s loving embrace.

With these thoughts in mind, I figuratively limped home to our digs after the opening. We were still living above the original Casa di Mia Nonna, but had substantially expanded and remodeled when I bought the building. There were separate bedrooms for Jase and the twins and we each had our own offices. We certainly weren’t hurting for space, but I was around so little that I rarely got to enjoy it.

Before the Whistler deal, I’d be up at 5 am to work out, check on Emmy and give her first doses of medication, then downstairs to get on the phone with the downtown branch, making sure the day would run smoothly. Even with much more delegating and leaving most of the day-to-day operational issues for downtown to Alain, who we had promoted to manager, I was still usually not back home much before 9 or 10 each evening. I always made sure to take a break though, when it was time to put the little meatloaves to bed.

I let myself in the back entrance to the kitchen and made sure to say hi to all of the crew before I made my way to the stairs to our flat. Trudging upwards, I began to detect a familiar smell as I entered the foyer. I smiled to myself. There was nothing like returning to a home cooked meal made by your mate and your Mom!

Entering the kitchen quietly, I could see Mom at the counter, back to me as she worked at the stove. I just stood there for a moment, savoring the sight of the sway of her hips as she stirred, marveling for the umpteenth time at the perfection of her ass. Then it hit me all at once. She was wearing a snug pair of old blue jeans, a man’s white oxford shirt , tied off above her midriff, in her bare feet. Bach was again playing in the background, Mom humming along as she worked. The smell…Nana’s original Bolognese sauce recipe! Suddenly I was fifteen again.

“Ahhhh, Mom – it’s so wonderful to be home!”

She spun from the stove and was in my arms in a second.

“Oh, darling! I missed you so much!” she said, showering me with kisses.

“God, I missed you too, Mom! The last week or ten days, I was aching to see you. I could hardly stand it.” It was the longest we had ever been apart, before or after we became lovers.

Arm around her hip, I drew her into my lap as I sat down at the kitchen table. Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I inhaled her scent, once again buoyed by the clean smell of soap and sandalwood. Kissing her neck and shoulder softly, I asked, “Does this remind you of anything, Mom?”

“Not particularly. Should it?”

“For me, it’s a real blast from the past. Do you remember when you were teaching me how to use knives properly? We were cooking the same recipe, listening to the same music and you were wearing nearly identical clothes.”

“I remember now, Ricky.”

“That was the first time realized I had fallen in love with you. It was the beginning of everything for me. So, to come home to this, today, well, just wow – it’s perfect. I love you so much, Mom.”

“I love you too, my sweet son. I didn’t plan it this way, but I’m very happy to have resurrected a good memory for you.”

“Of course the big difference is I couldn’t do then what I can now,” I said giving her a long kiss, my hands trailing down her sides to cup both of her sweet cheeks.

“Ohhhh, it’s sooo nice to have you back in my arms, Ricky.”

Our kiss intensified. Lips parting in unison, our tongues entwined. Bringing my hand up, I cupped Mom’s breast through her shirt, surprised to find she wasn’t wearing a bra. Rubbing her nipple with my fingertip, I began unbuttoning her shirt with my other hand.

“Mmmmmm. Not wasting any time, are you, my son?”

“I’ve missed every square inch of you, Mom. These magnificent nipples, mmm, so delicious… and my favorite navel, so tasty-”

“Ricky! Stop that – it tickles! Besides, you need to give the little ‘uns a kiss, and Emmy needs her meds. I had a devil of a time getting them to bed, knowing you’d be home tonight.”

“Okay, babe. But don’t you dare button up, Mom. I’ll be claiming my appetizer when I get back.”

“Just as long as you clean up after yourself, I’m starting to drip already. Hurry back, love.”


We had just finished some predawn lovemaking, snuggling and kissing in our mutual afterglow. I was pleasantly spent, still marveling at the intensity of our coupling, seemingly undiminished from our first day together. There was no doubt in my mind. I absolutely loved my mother for the wonderful, talented woman she was, but there was no denying that the undercurrent of fucking my mom was still and likely always going to be a huge, permanent turn on for me. I could never get enough of her, never tired of our special closeness, our one-mind-two-bodies connection. I still felt like the luckiest guy alive. I enjoyed and reveled in all of my professional success, but there was still nothing in the world I liked better than being with Mom, and now our children as well. They were living, breathing proof of our love and passion for each other. As I reflected on these gifts which had been bestowed on me, I became somewhat pensive. As ever, Mom noticed my change in mood almost before I did.

“A penny for your thoughts, lover boy.”

“Just thinking about how blessed we are, how lucky I’ve been in particular, Mom. If you had laid this all out before me four years ago, I would have described it as a particularly unlikely fantasy, and yet…”

“Yet here we are, seemingly living our dreams,” Mom finished my sentence for me. “I couldn’t be happier, darling. I have four wonderful children with my handsome man and the career I always wanted,” she sighed contentedly. “And…my big-dicked son fucks the shit out of me almost every day and makes me come like a freight train every time he puts his gorgeous cock in me,” she grinned wickedly. “What’s not to like?”

“Golly Mom, you really should loosen up a little and say what’s really on your mind. Don’t beat around the bush so much.”

“I don’t need to beat around the bush, Ricky. You handle that chore particularly well,” she retorted smugly.

“You pussy has always been the tastiest dish on my menu Mom, with or without son-cream. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of licking you. Speaking of which…”

“Mmm, much as I’d love it, duty calls, sweetheart. The twins will be up any minute now. I’d rather not have to explain why Mommy is sitting on Daddy’s face and moaning so much. Too complicated.”

I chuckled at the mental picture. “You owe me, woman. I expect you to conduct your household business sans panties today. I intend to get my taste at some point, come hell or high water.”

“Damn it, Ricky, you cut it out! Now I’ll be dripping all day thinking about your tongue, you bad boy.”

“My function in life, dear mother.”

Later, we actually found a little time for a cup of coffee together, a minor miracle of calm in the chaos of our usual working day. It was then that I began sounding Mom out about an idea that had been slowly coalescing in my mind since I had been in Whistler.

“Mom, what would you say if I were to sell the restaurants in a few years?”

“I’d ask if you were completely losing your marbles and inquire if you had a particular view that you wanted from your padded cell.”

“It’s just that I’ve had an idea for a new direction, something a little different, perhaps easier to run, more intimate and slower paced.”

“What’s the concept?”

“Well, as you know Clay is a big fan of Nonna’s downtown. He lunches there every Friday, has a standing reservation.” Seamus MacLeish was Archibald’s elder brother and the emeritus partner in Mom’s new law practice, a very well connected barrister with numerous ties to the provincial government.

“I had occasion to chat with him about a week before I left for the Whistler project. It seems likely very soon, some provincial land along the coast road west of Victoria is going to be opened for purchase and development. The province will build out electrical and water as part of the deal and there may also be broadband thrown in as well. I’m visualizing a restaurant with a view of the Straits of Juan de Fuca, with a B&B attached, possibly expanding to a small inn if things take off. Alain has some connections that might pan out for managing the lodging side of things.”

“What I’m really thinking about is an extension of our private booth concept, a special couple-oriented destination. The other thing I’m interested in is taking our little shop downstairs on line.” After we had expanded our original location, we began offering small quantities of the output of some of our local suppliers of specialty items. We were regularly selling out of jamon, smoked salmon, cheeses, coffees, teas and various and sundry local preserves and the like. It only made a modest profit for us, but our patrons loved to be able to purchase some of the materials that ended up on our daily menus.

Mom was uncharacteristically silent and I could hear the wheels spinning as she examined the possibilities. “It sounds really intriguing, sweetheart. I definitely need to think about this some more. I certainly can’t argue against slowing down some. A mother’s time with her son is precious.”

“My thoughts exactly. As much as I love what I do, I need more time with my woman and children. Otherwise, what’s the point?”


About four months after that conversation, I found myself in our flat on a Sunday morning after church. I was on the floor in the middle of the family room, surrounded by many toys and buffeted by the streaking blurs of Jason and the twins as they played with me. I was in the middle of the usual three-against-one wrestling match (gracefully and tactfully losing as always) when Mom came out of her office in a state of high excitement.

“Ricky, you need to see this!”

Disengaging myself from the onslaught, I struggled into the office, with Dee Dee , Anna and Jase clamped, barnacle-like, to one of my legs. After waving me to her side, she gestured at the screen of her iMac.

“It’s a little complicated, but bear with me, Ricky. First, I got this email from Molly today.”

Jen – The two of you should check out this link. Don’t ask me how I got it, because right now I can’t tell you. If you like what you see, use the first security code to enter the site and the second to fill out an application. They’ll get back in touch with you within a few hours. Please delete this as soon as you finish.

Love, Molly

P.S. Mitch and I are going to be celebrating our 3rd anniversary next Thursday. Is our booth available?

The link was a simple IP address, no domain name given. Mom clicked on it. A page opened, appearing to be an anonymous offshore FTP site. A dialogue box appeared, asking for the access code, which Mom cut and pasted from Molly’s email. The screen flashed a message. “Please wait. Engaging 2048 bit encryption. This may take a few minutes.”

I turned to look at Mom, intrigued and mystified all at once. When I started to ask her a question, she held up her hand to stop me, saying only, Just a few more seconds, Ricky. Please be patient.”

After about 45 seconds, a new screen appeared. It simply said “The Mother and Son Site.” A message then appeared. “Please enter access code immediately. You have 30 seconds. Please type carefully. You may only attempt access once.” Mom carefully entered the second code and hit return. The screen remained static for almost 30 seconds. During this time, I could see that our browser thought that the IP address of the web page was constantly changing. Then a new screen appeared. It said, “Welcome new recruit. Please fill out the following questionnaire. A response will be generated within 2 hours.”

Mom said, “I went ahead and answered the questions for us. It’s anonymous. You make your own usernames. We’re “lawmom” and “chefson” The site appears to be entirely devoted to promoting communication and interactions between mother-son couples.”

Minimizing the browser, Mom reopened her email. “This came about 5 minutes ago.” She opened an email from “Webmistress@MSSite.____”

Dear lawmom and chefson. A confidential message is waiting on our secure server. Please access the following IP address and use the encryption key below to retrieve your message.”

Mom accessed the new secure page and input the key. A new message appeared from the webmistress.

“Is that you, Jen? Love, Marsh”

“Mom, I can’t believe it!”

“I sent back a one line reply with my cell number.”

As if on cue, Mom’s phone began chirping with the ringtone she used for blocked calls. She picked up.

“Hello? Marsh? Is it really you? This is absolutely unbelievable! How on earth…? No wait, let’s back up. How ARE you? It’s been ages. Hold on, let me put this on speaker for Ricky.”

“Marsh? It’s Rick. How are you guys? This is simply amazing! You have this habit of surprising the hell out of us! First, that night in our kitchen almost four years ago, and now this. This is too cool for words!”

“Hi Rick. I’m so glad you found Shawn and me. We’ve been so bad about staying in touch, and there’s so much to catch up on! Who should go first?

“We can start, Marsh, if you like,” Mom said.

“Please go ahead, I’m all ears!”

“When Rick and I left for Vancouver, you may remember I was pregnant.”

“Indeed I do. At the time, I was very happy for you and not a little jealous.”

“Well, that following May we had twins.”

“My God, Jen! How wonderful! Details! I need details!”

“Deirdre Lynn and Anna Marie are doing very well and will be celebrating their fourth birthdays in a few months. Also, there’s Jason Michael, who just turned two a short while ago. And…there’s little Emily Jeanne – she’s 9 months old now and already saying a few words! We love them all to death!”

“You guys didn’t waste any time, did you? That’s just splendid. I love people who take a big bite out of life!”

“We have been busy, for sure Marsh. Rick has some things to tell you also.”

“Hi Marsh. Things have been pretty good. Have you heard of ‘Casa di Mia Nonna’?”

“I have indeed. There was an article about it in Travel and Leisure a few months ago. It’s run by some young guy named Rick Lewis…Uh, Ricky, do you mean to say…”

“Yup, Marsh. It’s our place. My ‘official’ Canadian ID is ‘Rick Lewis.’ We actually have a second downtown location and I’m a minority shareholder in the version that the Transpacific Resort Group opened in Whistler a while back.”

“Oh Rick! I’m soooo happy for you guys. It’s just the most wonderful news I could think of, and with four no doubt-wonderful children to boot!”

“I still can’t believe how lucky Mom and I have been, Marsh. I have to pinch myself regularly these days. Enough though, how about you guys? Shawn is well?”

“We’re wonderful. I have tons of news for you guys also. Jen, when you guys put a bun in the oven right away, it really got Shawn and me thinking. We decided to wait until Shawn graduated, but we’ve got a little ‘un too! Fiona Michelle was born nearly the same time as Jason. She’s the center of our universe.”

“That’s simply fantastic, Marsh. Is there anything better in the world than having a child with your son?”

“Only one thing I can think of Jen, and you can’t do the kid thing without it!”

Mom laughed and blushed a little. “Damn, straight, Marsh, damn straight. The best thing about taking your son into your bed is that every Mom who does it gets the best lover in the whole world.”

I voiced the question on Mom’s and my mind. “Marsh, about the web site?”

“It’s a little complicated, Rick, but the gist of it is that I’m still a neighborhood queen bee – I’ve just gone on to being the social organizer for a very special, very exclusive virtual community. You may remember that Shawn was doing a double major in electrical engineering and computer science? Well, he’s been big into security and encryption, on both the building and breaking end of things. He started a consulting company right after he graduated and landed a number of very lucrative, hush-hush projects with Homeland Security and TSA, which put us in very good shape.”

“I got to thinking about how we became close to you guys, which was essentially by chance. I thought how wonderful it would be for like-minded couples to be able to get in touch with one another without having to worry about their secrets being exposed. If you may remember’ that day when we chatted by your pool, when you and Rick had just become lovers, I said that I would love to be able to find a way to bring more mothers and sons together. Well, Shawn helped flesh out the idea and made the hardware side a reality, so here we are. I really love what I’m doing. The site pays for itself and then some, which is wonderful. In any event, Shawn is also doing very well, so no worries there.”

“So, Marsh – when and how can we get together?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know exactly, Jen. I do think we’re a bit more portable than you guys right now, so I’d lean towards us coming up to you. Because of the government work, Shawn needs to have a base of operations near DC, so we’ve been living in a place called Great Falls for the last year or so. Right now though, we’re kind of fed up with the Beltway madness. We’re definitely looking to relocate. In any event, our calendar is pretty clear and most of our work can follow us wherever we go.

“It’s settled then,” Mom declared. “We’ve got loads of room – we still live right above our original location. We have a wonderful guest room and lots of kiddie infrastructure. You just tell us when you can come and we’ll be ready. I’m so excited, Marsh, I can’t wait to see you!”

“Marsh,” I inquired, “How nimble are you? If you could be here by the middle of next week, we could have a celebration. Molly and Mitch O’Donnell are celebrating their 3rd anniversary. They’re good people. They are also the ones who pointed us to your site.”

“I know, Rick. She contacted me last week to request your invite to the site. I personally screen all those requests from existing members. Based on her information, it seemed like a no-brainer, but I had no idea she was talking about you!”

“Well skin-sister, I hope we can make this work,” Mom said.

“It’s a bit short notice, but what the heck. I’ll discuss it with Shawn when he gets back from work. I find I’m really looking forward to this. Thanks for the invite – sister,” Marsh concluded softly.

It came to pass that Marsh and Shawn were able to come the following week, so we appropriated the original private booth for our soiree. In the lead up to the celebration, Mom took to privately referring to our impending gathering as the “fucking mothers and mother fucking convention,” which totally cracked me up. One of the things I loved most about Mom was her unpredictably ribald sense of humor. I never knew when she might surprise me with an incredibly sexy or just plain crude remark. It certainly kept me on my toes.


The meal was a wonderful event. Alain took time out from his managerial duties downtown to personally take care of us, and it was because of this that I learned something very interesting and developed an even greater appreciation of Mom’s understanding of people and her intuition.

The meal began with champagne and some wonderful steamed mussels and local oysters on the half-shell. We were all getting along famously. Being able to share our special situations with one another in such an open way was a marvelous experience. We had to guard our conversations a bit when Alain was present, but otherwise, we did let our hair down pretty well. It was during one of the service interludes that I noticed that Alain seemed a bit melancholy.

“Alain, are you okay? You seem a bit down this evening. Are you uncomfortable serving us?” I inquired.

“Oh, non Monsieur Rick. I am just recalling a few things. Seeing zee ladies and their handsome sons together has brought back some of my own memories as well. I also loved my mother very much and I miss her more than I can say.”

“Alain, I had no idea you knew about us…”

“Oui, Monsieur Rick. I deduced your special bond with Madame Jenny some time ago. It is always clear to one with ze same life experience, non? Zat is how you knew about Madame Molly and her son so quickly. One who has been there can always tell, non?”

He sighed and smiled sadly. “As you both know, I had ze job difficulties a few years ago, before I came to work with you and Madame Jenny. It was tres difficile to adjust after maman was diagnosed with ze cancer… we had so little time together after zat. It makes me happy to see all of you together, very happy.”

I brought Alain over to stand in front of the table and gave him a flute of champagne and refilled everybody’s glasses. “A toast,” I declared. “To the wonderful ladies present here this evening, and to the memory of another who cannot be with us,” I said, nodding to Alain.

I think I surprised even Mom with my oblique inclusion of Alain in our company, but it served to put the remainder of the evening on a much better footing. Alain again became his usual charming self and everyone was able to fully relax in his presence. Many stories and reminisces were shared and we all enjoyed ourselves tremendously. Of course, after champagne, a couple of bottles of grand cru Bordeaux and a Chateau d’Yquem with dessert we were all pretty well lit up. We packed Mitch and Molly into a cab and promised to drive their car back to them in the morning. Mom, Shawn, Marsh and myself staggered upstairs to the flat to sleep off the evening’s exertions.

After seeing to the little ones, we more or less crawled into bed. Just as we were nodding off, we were startled back awake by noise from the adjacent guest room. We could hear the familiar squeaking of a bed frame and low murmurs of pleasure. Mom looked at me and grinned, an aroused flush already evident on her chest and neck.

The voices became louder. “Ohhh, Shawn baby, do me. Eat your mommy! Ohhh, God! Yes! Yes! Yesssssss! Cumming! I’m cumming, honey!”

There was a brief interlude of silence and the rhythmic creaks of the bed frame renewed. They gradually built in intensity, the headboard now obviously thumping the shared wall as Shawn put some serious meat into his mother. I felt Mom’s hand on my thigh, searching out Willie. “So, Mother dear, is this going to be ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,’ or is it ‘keeping up with the Joneses?” I teased.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, darling,” she replied as she stroked me. “What I do know is that Marsha and Shawn fucking away has got me dripping. I need you so bad, baby, I can’t stand it!”

“So my lady lover is hot to trot, eh? How shall the hosts entertain their guests?”

“I’m feeling very naughty again, Ricky. What I want is this,” she said, pushing a nearly empty bottle of Astroglide into my hand. “Mommy needs you to fuck her in the ass, darling son,” she whispered. She rolled into a doggy position in front of me, wiggling her hips seductively.

Moving behind her, I said, “Ah, now I know the game, Mom. It’s not ‘beating or joining’ and it’s not ‘keeping up’ – it’s one-upsmanship!”

“I know you’re already ‘up,’ you horny young man. What I need is for you to put that thing ‘up’ somewhere right now.”

“Let the games begin, Mom.” I bent to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to do you so good, even the East German judge will have to give me a 9.5″

“Less talk and more cock, baby.”


I’m not entirely sure how we managed to stay awake and excited as long as we did, considering the amount of wine that was consumed at the meal. Mom was as revved up as I have ever seen her, and her arousal in turn set me off as well. For Mom, I think there was something about knowing that another mother and son were one wall away from us, making passionate love. After we finished, we shared a warm, slow and tender shower together. As I soaped Mom’s back, I teased her a little.

“You certainly played the hostess extraordinaire tonight Mom. I believe our guests were well-entertained.”

“Ricky! You’re embarrassing me, you brat.”

“I think my proper, conventional and correct mother has a hidden exhibitionist streak.”

Snorting with laughter, Mom leaned back against me, bringing my hands up to cup her breasts as she twisted her head around to kiss me.

“Oh yes, I’m very conventional and dull as ditchwater, if you forget those inconvenient details of being married to my son and having children with him. You are probably terribly disappointed with how humdrum our lives have turned out.”

“I must have a will of iron, to be able to trudge through the bleak days of my existence, chained to this boring woman,” I teased back, rubbing her nipples between my fingertips.

“Ooohhh, baby, I love it when you do that. I adore your magic hands.” Reaching behind her, Mom began to gently fondle my balls and shaft.

“Hmmm, I see the wine we drank hasn’t diminished your recuperative powers, son of mine.”

“I can’t help it, Mom. You’re always going to be the sexiest woman on the planet,” I growled, burying my face in the nape of her neck.

Purring with pleasure as I caressed her soapy breasts, Mom thrust her ass against my newly resurgent cock, rubbing me between her cheeks.

“I don’t understand what it is about you, you bad boy. I can never get enough of your wonderful cock. Do you think you can run me over with that truck again, Ricky?”

I groaned, thrusting myself between the slippery globes of her ass, dropping one hand from her breasts to her belly. Slowly sliding southward, I reveled in the wiry texture of her thick thatch as I ran my fingers through her pubes, seeking her center. As my middle finger slid into her moistening slit, mom moaned and arched back, thrusting her pelvis forward to capture my invading digit.

“Ahhh, so good, Ricky. Let’s go back to the bed. I need you in me right now.”

We quickly dried each other and Mom led me by the hand back to our room. She saw me glancing at the alarm clock as we settled down side by side on the bed.

“I forgot to tell you sweetie, Alain told me to let you know he would go to the market for fresh produce tomorrow morning, so you can sleep in.”

“Thank God for Alain, Mom. I love that guy. Of all the people you helped hire, he’s the gem of the lot. I was not looking forward to working tomorrow on five hours of sleep.”

“Mmmmm,” she murmured, “I never seem to have enough time with my wonderful son. It will be a nice change to wake up with you in bed next to me tomorrow morning, darling.”

It was quiet as we lay together, softly touching and kissing, Shawn and Marsh finally seeming to have fucked themselves out while we were in the shower. Mom rolled me on to my back and straddled my thighs, smiling warmly. Grasping my cock, she ran the head through her wet lips several times and then slowly settled her full weight on my shaft, taking me all the way to paradise in one slick, fluid motion.

“Ahhh, that’s better, Ricky. Fuck your momma now, sweet boy,” she murmured tenderly. “Show her how much you love her.”

As we coupled unhurriedly, I ran my hands up and down Mom’s flanks, traversing her belly to return to her breasts, which I cupped and squeezed, flicking her nipples with my fingertips. Humming with approval, she bent slightly at the waist to bring her teats closer to my hungry mouth,

Always beautiful in their proportion and form, Mom’s breasts had only improved with time and four children. Noticeably more full and pendulous than before her pregnancies, I particularly adored her nipples, which had become quite thick with the effects of nursing our babies. When erect, they stood out pink and proud from her areolae, nearly as big around and long as the first joint of my thumb. They remained marvelously sensitive to touch and tongue, so much so that a well timed suckle or light nip with my teeth could usually send her into orgasm whenever we made love. I sometimes referred to them jokingly as her “chest clitties.”

As Mom moved languorously up and down on my penis, I devoted my attentions to her wonderful nubs, alternating between, vigorous sucking, tongue flicking and light nipping, occasionally pausing to suck as much of her entire breast as I could into my mouth.

Whispering soft encouragements interspersed with an occasional sharp intake of breath, Mom made her pleasure clear as I avidly suckled, gradually increasing the pace of her ride, rising up until the tip of my cock was barely within her hot tunnel, letting her weight then fall suddenly and then rising again, clasping me with her muscles as she rose to the apex of our joining. The sensation of the slow, rising squeeze followed by the abrupt drop of her ass on to my thighs was exquisite. Although the timing of her movements was quite slow, designed to prolong our mutual pleasure, it was simultaneously incredibly intense. I found myself picking up the pace as Mom continued to milk me with each upward stroke.

Halting at the top of her rise on my shaft, Mom reached down and gave the base of my cock a firm squeeze.

“Easy there, tiger. Let’s make this last. You feel so good inside me, I don’t want it to end.”

I acknowledged by pulling her head down for a kiss, relaxing and letting her reestablish the rhythm of her choosing. We continued our movement for some time, enjoying the moist, warm contact of our pelvic waltz, taking in the sensations of our fuck in leisurely fashion. Gradually, Mom began to drop herself back on to me with more force, a small grunt accompanying each slap as her buttocks bounced on my thighs. I responded by pushing back strongly at the end of each of her down strokes, rooting myself as firmly as I could in her clutching sheath each time, raising her off the bed.

Very gradually, our speed increased as we ground strongly against each other, our breathing now ragged and rapid. As I saw Mom’s eyes beginning to roll back in her head, I squeezed her nipples very firmly between my fingers and that was it.

“Ohhh God, Ricky! Making me cum! Making Mommy cum! Oh yes! Yes! Oh FUCK!!!!! Yes!”

As Mom shouted out her release, that sent me over the edge as well and I gave her my own wet, slippery declaration of love. Collapsing on my torso, chest heaving and breasts jiggling, Mom looked at me with wild eyes and kissed me hard.

“Now that’s how a son should fuck his mom. Damn, you are such a stud, you devil.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Mom. I just have a lot of inspiration.”

“You’re my darling boy,” she declared, giving me a big, juicy kiss. “Do you suppose I woke Shawn and Marsh?”

I cocked my head to listen briefly. “I don’t think so. I know if I heard Marsh coming like that, I’d have been pounding you myself in about thirty seconds.”

With a few more whispered endearments and kisses, we quickly drifted off into a deep, heavy sleep, waking only when the twins flung themselves into our bed around eight the next morning, followed shortly by the pediatric ballistic missile that was Jason. Mom shooed the kids out while she put her pajamas back on and threw on a housecoat. Propped against our pillows, I sat back in the bed, still naked under the sheets, smiling, with fingers laced behind my head as I watched Mom get dressed.

“What’re you looking at, goofball?” Mom complained, trying to be severe, but failing. “Wipe that grin off you face and get moving, Ricky. I’ve got to feed the tribe and get them dressed before Marsh and Shawn get up.”

“Just enjoying my favorite view, pretty lady. It’s a fine way to start the day, you know.”

“You’re impossible, but very sweet. When you’re done ogling you mother, get dressed and help me in the kitchen.”

“Yes ma’am. You da boss.”

“Damn right I am. I’ve got you beat on two counts that you can’t trump. You have to obey your wife like any other husband, but you’ve got to listen to your Mom as well, sport.”

“Well, they say the two most important words in the English language are ‘yes, dear’,” I replied, conceding defeat.

“Jase needs changed and it’s time for Emmy’s meds, oh and start the coffee also, please. I’ll get some fruit and granola for Jase and the twins.”

“Yes, mother dear.”

“You’re right, Ricky. Those words are music to my ears. Now get your cute naked butt out of bed and get cracking.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Eventually, the munchkins were squared away and we found a moment for ourselves, sitting in the breakfast nook, sipping our coffee. Mom put her hand on mine, intertwining our fingers and giving me a squeeze.

“I’m sorry I rousted you so early, sweetheart. You don’t get many chances to sleep in, but I’m working from home today and have a videoconference in about half and hour.”

“No biggie, Mom. I got nearly three extra hours this morning, so I’m sleeping in by definition. Besides,” I continued, pulling her on to my lap, “Just being able to get up at the same time as my favorite lady is a luxury.”

“It would be nice if we could do it more often, wouldn’t it?” Mom acknowledged.

“Just give me my good morning kiss and I’ll be a happy guy.”

Giving me a quick peck on the cheek, Mom made to get up, but I grabbed her by the waist, preventing her departure.

“Hey, just a sec there. You call that a kiss? I’ve had warmer handshakes, Mom,” I pouted theatrically, putting a whine in my voice.

“You’ll need to earn anything more, son of mine.”

“Fixing your coffee wasn’t enough?”

“That’s what got you your first kiss just now.”

“God, you’re a cold hearted mercenary, woman. Can I have an advance on my payoff?”

“I’d have to think about that. I don’t extend credit lightly, especially to ne’er-do-wells like you. I’d need some collateral.”

“How about this?” I asked, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. “You’re beautiful, Mom, you’re the light of my life. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly, the peas to my carrots, the garlic to my olive oil, the Lennon to my McCartney, the Marge to my Homer…”

“Enough, sweet rascal,” she smiled, running her fingers through my hair. “Your credit application has been accepted,” she said, bending her head to meet me.

Our lips met and I drew her in closer to me, rubbing my hands on her back. Mom sighed and slipped her hands around my head, toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. Her lips parted slightly and in a blink our tongues were intertwined, our simple good morning to each other rapidly turning into something else.

“Well, well, good morning indeed,” Marsh teased as she walked into the kitchen.

Reluctantly breaking our embrace, I turned to Marsh, keeping Mom in my lap.

“Just starting our day off properly, Marsh,” I explained. “I’m usually long gone by this time, so I need to make the most of my opportunities.”

“Did you guys sleep well?” Mom inquired.

“Probably about as well as you two,” Marsh replied, a twinkle in her eye. By way of an indirect apology, she added, “Shawn moved the headboard away from the wall this morning.”

“No big deal, Marsh,” I replied. Casually running my hand across Mom’s thigh, I continued, “Mom kind of liked it.”

Blushing furiously, Mom punched my arm. “Ricky! Be quiet, for God’s sake!”

Marsh laughed delightedly. “Beats the hell out of Letterman, doesn’t it? Personally, I have to say that I’ve always been turned on by a little eavesdropping. Knowing I’m hearing another mother and her son together is a huge turn on – it’s so erotic.”

Still blushing, Mom stood and smoothed her robe. “Coffee’s fresh and hot, Marsh. Please help yourself to anything you need. I’ve got to clean up and get ready for my videoconference. And you, Ricky, please try for once to behave yourself for more than 2 minutes.”

“Pull up a rock and sit with Mom’s millstone,” I directed to Marsh. “I’ll try not to embarrass you too much, mother love,” I shot at Mom’s departing back.

Marsh helped herself to a mug of coffee and planted an affectionate peck on my cheek, sitting across the table from me.

“How’s Shawn doing?” I asked.

“Right now he’s changing Fiona. He should be out in a few minutes.”

We chatted for a few minutes, recalling the events of our dinner and sharing a few reminisces from our New Jersey days until Marsh changed the subject.

“So, Rick – Jen tells me you’re looking at a new direction for your work.”

“Yeah, Marsh. I’m still kicking around a couple of ideas, but I haven’t really come to any firm decisions, except that I’d really like to have more mornings like this one in my day to day life.”

“I’d love to hear what you have in mind.”

“Well, in a nutshell, there may be an opportunity soon to purchase some land on Vancouver Island, not too far from VIctoria. I’m thinking about an inn with attached restaurant, overlooking the ocean, sort of a destination location.” I went on to describe how I was interested in a more ambitious extension of the “private booth” concept as we executed it in Casa di Mia Nonna, directed primarily at special couples. As I recounted how we came to meet Mitch and Molly, Marsh became more and more animated, peppering me with questions about how we incorporated the booths into the normal operations of the restaurant and other sundry details.

When Shawn joined us, I poured him a cup of java and Marsh recounted our discussion. I also told him about my desire to develop an online presence for various products we were currently selling to our dining patrons in our attached shop.

Marsh and Shawn kept casting significant glances at each other as I fleshed out my vision, sharing some mysterious, silent mom-son short hand communication. By the time I finished, I had run out of time, so I excused myself to get changed and head downstairs to start prepping for our lunch opening. As I left, Shawn spoke.

“Rick, when you get a break later today, or tonight after closing, I’d like to talk with you some more about this. I have a couple of ideas you might be interested in.”

In typical fashion, once I hit the kitchen, I moved from crisis to crisis all day until closing. I made it upstairs briefly to help tuck the munchkins in for bed, but beyond that, it was like being tossed in a blanket while riding on a 100 mph roller coaster for the whole day. When I finally got back upstairs around 10:30, I hadn’t even had time for my own dinner. Everyone took pity on me when I returned, Shawn pouring me a glass of wine, Mom and Marsh making me a sandwich and small salad. As I sat at the kitchen table and recuperated, Mom sat next to me, arm around my shoulder as I wolfed down my meal.

When I finished, she cleared my dishes away and came back to the kitchen table, taking her usual seat in my lap.

“We’ve been talking all evening, Ricky,” she said, kissing my cheek.

“So, a secret conspiracy has been developing in my absence?”

“Not so much a conspiracy as an alignment of future interests,” Marsh explained.

“How would you feel about working with Marsh and Shawn, as business partners?” Mom asked.

“What do you guys have in mind?”

Shawn cleared his throat and spoke up. “Well Rick, as you know, I do a lot of classified consulting work for HSA and some other alphabetic agencies I can’t tell you about. I’m so damn busy that I’ve actually been subcontracting out a lot of the less interesting work. I’ve got the business running well enough at this point that I can afford to pick and choose what I want to tackle, but more importantly, I can be location independent now – you see, I’ve developed a new highly secure protocol for video conferencing. I’ve patented the technology and I lease the rights to Uncle Sam exclusively. It means I can continue my classified work wherever I want to be. Right now, that means the hell away from the D.C. cesspool.”

“That sounds great, Shawn, but how does it fit in with what we’re talking about?”

“I understand you would like to take some of the things you’re selling in the restaurant shop online. Want me to set that up for you? I think the concept has real legs and could be developed into something pretty big without too much effort. I see you guys in a nice little niche between Dean and Deluca on one end and ZIngerman’s on the other. I think sticking to an Italian focus is also a great idea. Your local and regional outreach is all ready to build on the name recognition of the restaurants and I think we can get you fully into the North American market within a year or two, if all goes well. I’m very confident we can make this go. The one thing we should start thinking about is warehouse space. If I’m right about how this will grow, we’re going to need significant space in maybe as little as eight or nine months.”

Pausing to catch his breath, Shawn went on, “All I’d need from you and Jen is the willingness to spend time as buyers and scouts to keep the inventory high quality, unique and exclusive. Also, I’ve got the contacts on the tech side to have a really slick fulfillment system set up. You’d leave all of that to Mom and me – you’d just have to find the goodies and nail down the deals. My only condition is that if you end up going to Italy for buying trips, that Mom and I get to come along too. ”

“It sounds great, Shawn,” I concluded. “You got it, bro.”

Turning to Mom, I asked, “Partnership?”

“Equal shares among the four of us, financed equally, set up as a Delaware or Nevada LLC, Ricky. Between us, we have enough liquidity to set up the capitalization very easily. We can keep the burn rate down as we build up inventory by running some of the initial purchases through the restaurant corporation. I’ve got all of that covered, it’ll be a piece of cake. If you’re agreeable, I can start drawing up the papers tomorrow.”

“What I like best about this though,” she went on, “Is that there’s no rush. We can grow as quick or as slow as we want. Talking it through with Shawn and going over our books, I think we could be profitable on a small scale in as little as 3 or 4 months.”

Marsh broke in at this point. “That’s half of the deal, Rick. The other half is the important one for us, not because it’s larger, but because it will have a big impact on how we’ll be living for the foreseeable future. It’s going to cost more at the start, and it may generate as much or more profit ultimately than the online business.”

Mom left the room and came back with a large, artist-sized sketchpad. “Marsh has been working all day on the concept for the Inn. You remember she went back to school to get her degree in Architecture and Design? Well, when you see these, I think you’ll agree she done good.”

When Mom and Marsh laid the rough sketches out on the kitchen table, I was floored. It was almost as though someone had opened a door in the back of my head and had taken a peek.

The main building was a graceful arc of glass, local stone and wood set above a cove with stony beach. The style was a distinctive amalgam of native design motifs and modernism, with clean, extremely elegant lines. It was apparent from the siting that every one of the seventy or so rooms would have a marvelous view of the ocean. Smaller outbuildings were present, numbering around eight, each situated for maximal privacy from the main building and one another, small villas in essence. Each had a completely enclosed, central private courtyard with a small pool.

Mom pointed them out to me, saying, “These will be our ‘private tables,’ Ricky. Marsh says she can keep these booked 365 days a year though her site, at any rate we care to name.”

Marsh then brought out the final sketches, showing a smaller, completely isolated compound close to the main structure of the Inn, with two residences, sharing a common courtyard, both overlooking a smaller rocky cove. Sketched into the setting was a series of gardens and greenhouses as well as open pastureland.

“Marsh went on to explain. “I hope you would like to have us as next-door neighbors, Ricky. This is how I see us living. We’ll run Shawn’s consulting and the online store from here and it’s walking distance to the Inn and restaurant. You can grow your own produce for the Inn on site. If you want, there’s even enough room for free range whatever.”

“Wow. Marsh, Shawn, Mom…I hardly know what to say. It would be a dream come true if we could pull it off. What about the actual parcels though? What Marsh has sketched almost seems to good to be real.”

Mom answered smugly. “I’ve been on the phone this morning with Shay MacLeish. The sites are real and available. We had to guestimate a few things, but there was enough detail on Google Earth to make these drawings. It’s very real and very possible, sweetheart.”

“What about money? This is a big project. Even if all four of us sink most of our money into this, it’s still probably not enough. The economy being the way it is right now, I doubt any bank loans would be forthcoming either. I really hate the idea of owing the bank, anyway.”

“I have some ideas, Rick,” Marsh replied. “It would be a bit unconventional, but I think I have a potential partner for us, through my site.”

“We’re talking deep pockets here, Marsh,” I warned.

“Let me make a call, Rick. I’ll know more after that.”

Marsh excused herself and went into Mom’s study to talk, closing the door behind her. She emerged about twenty minutes later, an uncertain look on her face.

She sat somewhat heavily at the table, apparently uncertain on how to begin. “Well, we may have a chance, but there are some conditions which are unusual. I can tell you a little bit right now, but I need to know if you’re all going to be comfortable with how we have to handle things.”

Taking a deep breath, Marsh began. “The potential investors are another mother and son with considerable resources. They are also public figures, the mother more so. Their relationship is obviously very secret and before they make any commitments, they want to do some background, then perhaps meet us. Any initial meeting would have to be indirect, inasmuch as they would still be incognito. If you’re willing to agree to these terms, we can have a sit down in a week. That’s the soonest their business will allow them to meet.”

I looked at Mom, who was clearly still turning things over in her mind, as yet not convinced. “I’ve got an idea, Mom. We can close down the restaurant next Monday evening, say we’re having a private party. We normally have open seating on that night anyway, so there are no reservations to displace. They can come in the back entrance and we’ll use one of the private booths for the meet. They can leave the way they came. That should be discreet enough for them, I hope.”

Marsh excused herself again and returned just a few minutes later, smiling widely. “We’ve got a meeting. They ask only for two Mondays away, not next. Is that okay?”

Mom looked at me and nodded. “Let do it, Ricky.”


It was with a lot of anticipation and not a little apprehension that we waited for word from our potential investors. Shawn, Marsh and Fiona stayed with us, as nervous as we were. A week before the meeting, Marsh announced that the meeting was on for 7 pm, so we went into action, setting up the Monday closure. The day of the meeting, we closed up after lunch and sent the staff home. Marsh stayed glued to her Blackberry, awaiting news of the arrival of our mystery partners. Mom and I put a simple meal together in the kitchen and we sat back to wait.

At seven o’clock sharp, a burly man in dark glasses knocked on the delivery door. When I answered, he simply asked, “Rick Lewis?”


“My name is Mr. Mahoney. If I may, I’d like to check the premises.”

I escorted him inside and he took in all of the surroundings with a practiced eye, checking everything thoroughly. When I showed him where we would meet, he took a couple of small electronic boxes from his suit pocket and walked around the booth, consulting illuminated meters on their faces. After several minutes, he seemed satisfied and excused himself. Shortly thereafter, he escorted a man and woman into the booth.

“Everything looks clean, ma’am. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Perfunctory handshakes were exchanged all around, but no names given. The couple before us was an interesting pair. The woman appeared to be in her late thirties and was tall, easily five foot nine or ten in height. She wore a scarf, which mostly concealed a rich auburn head of hair. Her large dark glasses covered much of her face, concealing her expression, but she had finely sculpted high cheekbones, a delicate, elegant jawline and full red lips, almost stereotypically bee stung in their appearance. She wore plain blue jeans and a baggy old flannel shirt, mostly covered by a hoodie sweatshirt. It was a deliberately drab, unflattering, very anonymous wardrobe, but it only partially succeeded in concealing what was a lush, statuesque figure. Her bust line was easily at least thirty-eight inches and her breasts stood high and proud on her chest. Her waist was narrow and flared out to voluptuous hips that spectacularly filled her pants. Although concealed by her jeans, I inferred that her legs must be almost as pretty as Mom’s. She wore plain sneakers over small, almost delicate feet. If there ever was a woman whose appearance shouted ‘MILF!’, this was the lady.

Her companion was slightly taller than her, probably a hair under six feet in height. His long hair was dark brown and fairly straight, drawn into a ponytail. Like me, he sported a well-trimmed moustache and goatee with a small soul patch. His cheeks echoed those of his lady, but the mouth was less full. He smiled briefly during the introduction, revealing brilliant white, straight teeth. His physique was slim, but he obviously worked out, judging by the size of his biceps and the inverted triangle formed by his waist and broad chest. He was also dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, wearing a cowboy hat and Ray Bans.

Before we began, Mom quickly excused herself, saying she wanted to make sure that Mr. Mahoney had something to eat while he waited. The woman looked up as Mom left, smiling to herself briefly and then turned to her beau, a flicker of silent communication and a slight nod signaling some kind of agreement between them. Mom returned a few minutes later with a tray holding several beers and a bottle of red and white wine.

“Would anyone like something to drink?”

The young man spoke, his voice soft, words slightly drawled. “P’raps after we talk a little bit.”

At this point, Marsh cleared her throat and called us to order.

Nodding to our guests, she began by saying, “I have a lot of responsibility running the Site and have become (I hope) good at keeping confidences. One thing we all share is a need to keep our private lives concealed except from those we absolutely trust. Terrible things can happen if we have our secrets revealed, so I hope you understand that I brought us together with more than a little anxiety. I would not have presumed on my acquaintance with you both had I not believed that it was possible to make something unique happen with your help. I also thought that there was something for you to gain also, which might not happen otherwise. I’m going to give you some of the details now of how we hope to make our dream work.”

Marsh went on to describe our collective vision and also for the first time let us see her larger vision for our project. The scope of her idea was bold and unprecedented. She saw our Inn as the focal point of an actual enclave of special families, mothers, sons, brothers, sisters, cousins, everything. It would begin with the hiring of staff for the restaurant and lodge and hopefully grow into a self-sufficient community over time, coordinated through the auspices of the website.

I could see that Marsh’s idea had captured the imagination of our visitors, the couple before frequently glancing to each other as Marsh described our collective hopes.

There was a brief, tension-filled silence after Marsh finished and then the mystery woman spoke. Her voice was almost melodious, softened by a Deep South drawl that betrayed her origins.

“I’m very interested. I hope y’all will forgive the cloak and dagger stuff, but my son and I can’t be too careful. Y’all have no idea how bad the paparazzi can be. We’ve got a lot to lose and don’t generally get involved in things that might jeopardize our life together. I’m sure y’all can understand why we’re very cautious. The business aspect of things is pretty straightforward, but that’s not the issue. The issue is, can we trust y’all to work with us and protect our privacy? I hope I’m not bein’ too blunt, but my son and our relationship comes first. If I have any doubts, it ain’t gonna happen.”

Mom spoke next, addressing herself directly to the woman. “I think I understand very well what you’re saying. I’m sure you already know that I’m an attorney with a prominent local firm. If Rick and I were exposed, it would be devastating, particularly because there are children involved. Anything you chose to share with us, I would guard it as carefully as my own secret. In fact…” Mom’s voice trailed off and she stood abruptly.

“I’ll be right back.”

She left the table quickly and I heard her head upstairs. While we waited for her return, small talk was made around the table, with me taking the lead, describing our restaurants and Vancouver in general. After ten minutes, Mom returned with several sheets of paper. She handed one document to me, Marsh and Shawn and another to our visitors.

“The documents I have here are an employment agreement, with my son, Marsh and Shawn agreeing to work for me as consultants in this deal. Your paper is an agreement for me to act as your attorney in this matter of the investment in the restaurant and lodge. As your lawyer, I’ll be bound by attorney-client privilege, as will my consultants. We can draw up additional non-disclosure agreements for my son, Marsh and Shawn if you like, but I think these papers cover things pretty well.”

“I also promise to you, mother to mother, that your secrets will always be protected by us.”

The woman spoke again, with obvious admiration, her posture noticeably relaxing as she slightly slumped in her seat. “Y’all are one sharp lady. I think we can let our hair down just a bit now.” She turned to her son and named him for the first time. “Paul, can you and the other fellas give us ladies a few minutes together for a little hen party? I’m thinkin’ that we may have got ourselves some new friends here.”

“Sure, Mom. Shall we go into the kitchen?”

I escorted Paul and Shawn into the back and gathered some chairs for us to sit in. Mr. Mahoney came up to Paul as we sat down, inquiring “Everything okay?”

“Better than we hoped for, John. You can wait with the car now, if you like,” Paul replied. “We’ll call when we need you.”

“Very good sir, until later then.”

About ten minutes later, Marsh came back and fetched us. I could tell by her smile that things were going well. “Come on back guys. We’ve got business to discuss.”

When we arrived back at the private booth, Mom and the lady were in animated discussion, talking about Paul and me. The woman noticed her son first. “Paul, baby, I’m just braggin’ on y’all a little bit here with Jen, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s cool, Mom. You don’t get to talk about us very much with anyone, now that Aunt Louise is gone.”

She turned to Mom, her face briefly clouded with sorrow. “We lost Lou two years ago to ovarian cancer. It was a tough time.”

Mom reached out to cover her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s awful when you lose family like that. Rick and I know only too well.”

Composing herself, our guest took in a deep breath and spoke to her son. “Paul, I’m okay with this. Jen, Marsh and their sons are good people. I think we can trust them.”

As she spoke, she began removing her scarf and dark glasses, turning to address Mom. “This is a bit tough, sugar, so I hope you’ll bear with me. You folks are going to be the only people who know our secret now.”

After removing her concealing items, the woman appeared to be as beautiful as I expected, with gorgeous, long auburn hair. She looked vaguely familiar to me, but Mitch recognized her immediately.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, his jaw dropping in surprise.

“Since y’all seem to know us, Mitch, why don’t y’all make the introductions,” the woman drawled with a smile.

Almost stuttering with nervousness, Mitch gulped once and began, “Mom, Jen, Rick – this is Gina Broussard. I knew Paul was your guitarist and song writing partner, but I had no idea he was your son.”

“That’s the way we try and keep it, Mitch honey. I don’t know what I’d do without my sweet boy by my side.”

Mom said, “The name is familiar to me, but I must confess that’s about all. I hope you’re not offended.”

Gina laughed delightedly, “Not at all, sugar. It’s refreshing to be a bit anonymous. It’s good to be reminded that Nashville ain’t the center of the universe.”

Mitch chimed back in, awe still evident in his voice. “Gina is just one of the queens of country crossover music. She’s only won three Grammys and a double fistful of CMA awards. I happen to be a big fan,” he blushed. “It’s a thrill to meet you.”

Mom sat back, nodding her head. “I can see why you’ve been so cautious, Gina. I was put off a little bit at first, but I understand now,” she smiled, taking Gina’s hand in hers. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to keep up appearances. I don’t know if I could survive, not being able to show any affection to Rick in public. I admire your strength very much.”

“It’s the hand we’re dealt, Jen,” Paul interjected. “I love our career and that we can perform and compose together, but there are times when I wish we could be more free, more open. I love Mom very much and it sometimes drives me crazy not to be able to show it.”

Squeezing Mom’s hand back, Gina smiled her thanks, but immediately became more serious. “That’s so sweet of you, Jen, but don’t forget that all the crap we put up with has a way of rolling downhill to affect everyone who knows us. We are super careful to shield our friends from the vultures that are always followin’ us around, but if we become partners, y’all are gonna have some risks too. Other folks we know, their privacy could be a bit compromised by knowin’ us, but you and Rick, Marsh and Shawn especially can’t afford them tabloid assholes pokin’ ’round your lives either. We need to think about the kids, most of all.”

Gina took in a deep breath, her voice tight with emotion. “If we do this, you folks are takin’ nearly as big a risk as me and Paul. Someone discoverin’ your secrets is just as bad, if not worse than us bein’ found out. We’re all takin’ on a LOT of responsibility for each other’s lives if we go through with this little project.”

Mom sat up straight and looked intently at Gina, clearly thinking her thoughts out before speaking. “Gina, do you believe that your life with Paul is going to get worse or better for knowing us? If you have any worries, I’d just as soon we stop right this minute. You two shouldn’t take on any additional burdens you don’t want. Anyway, speaking for Ricky and myself, I think we’re willing to do what we have to, to make this work. The risks are acceptable to us.”

Mom glanced around the table to Shawn and Marsh who also nodded their agreement. The mood around the table was tense, all of us finally realizing the enormity of our joint decision.

Gina broke the mood when she got up and settled herself into Paul’s lap, kissing him soundly, stroking his cheek. “God, it feels good to be able to do that,” she sighed.

Pausing for a moment, she spoke seriously, “I think the idea of building a special community around the Inn is wonderful, and we’ll support it fully. We need to do this. It’s not something I want to walk away from. My one condition would be that we would want y’all to do one of those little outbuildings for us too. Paulie and I so much need a place to escape to, where we can be ourselves for a while, be with folks like us.”

Marsh smiled, taking Gina’s hand in hers. “Girlfriend, any time you want to get away, or any time you need a friend to just talk to, you just give me or Jen a call. We’ll look out for each other. I hope with time, you’ll come to see us as new sisters.”

Gina’s eyes glistened and her voice caught just a little. “Y’all are too kind. It’s been mighty tough since Lou passed on. Sometimes I feel like it’s me and Paulie against the whole world.”

Mom rummaged in her purse for a business card and wrote our numbers on the back. “Any time, anything you need, Gina, give us a call.”

Sighing, Gina got up and began to put her disguise back on. “I’d love to stay and set a spell, but we’re runnin’ out of time here. I’ll have my investment advisor and our accountants get with y’all tomorrow. Unfortunately, we’ve got a concert tonight in Seattle, so we’ve got to scoot. I can’t tell y’all how much this means to us, finding folks like you. Late tomorrow, we’ll be goin’ on to Tokyo and Osaka to finish our tour. After that, we’ll be in touch.”

“Gina, do you have any commitments after that?” I asked. “We’d love to have you visit for a few days if you could manage it. There’s plenty of room upstairs if you don’t mind a few rug rats under foot.”

“Thanks so much, Rick. It’s real tempting. I’ll talk with our manager and see what might be arranged. I’d love a couple of down home days with y’all. Besides, I hear y’all are one hellaciously fine chef. I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ what ya got.”

With that, hugs and handshakes were exchanged all around and Paul phoned for the limo to return. Ten minutes later, they were gone and we were left shaking our heads with wonder.

“You’d never be able to sell that script in Hollywood,” Mom observed drily. “It’s too unrealistic.”

“Well, be careful what you wish for,” Marsh observed wryly. “We’ve got our work cut out for us now. We’re going to have to deliver big time on this one. I don’t know whether to be terrified or ecstatic.”


Paul and Gina did end up returning to visit us about ten days later. They stayed in our guest room, Marsh and Shawn having already returned to the bedlam of Washington to make preparations for moving west. Getting them to our place from the airport was an exercise in duplicity and crazy logistics right out of an old Marx Brothers movie. After deplaning from their G5, they immediately got into the limo that was idling on the tarmac.

If you knew where to look, there were sleazy characters with expensive cameras and 800 mm telephoto lenses, some obvious, others trying to be invisible. It was then that I realized how truly difficult it must have been for them, having to watch every single move made in public, never knowing when someone might be spying on them. Long story short, after three car changes and some interminable doubling back and circling, they made their way to the packing warehouse of our meat wholesaler and came to the restaurant in the back of the delivery truck, along with the day’s supply of bacon and sausage. We snuck them up the inside stairs from the dining area, with hugs and high fives exchanged at our successful deception.

Of course, it wasn’t really as simple as sneaking around circuitously in the back of a panel truck. Five days previously, Mr. Mahoney had arrived in advance of Paul and Gina, accompanied by enough anodized aluminum suitcases to outfit an entire Mission Impossible movie. Setting to work immediately under the guise of installing a security system for the restaurant and our apartment, he spent four twelve hour days working his magic with all kinds of active and passive electronic devices, finally pronouncing himself satisfied only a few hours before Gina and Paul’s scheduled arrival.

Once we drew the blinds and curtains, you could see the tension drain from them as they were able to finally drop their working masks and concealing tradecraft. We spent the first hour with them in our living room, as Gina regaled us with tales of the final leg of their tour. She sat in Paul’s lap the whole time, holding his hand, his arm around her waist, cupping her ass, while she kissing him at least once a minute for the entire time. It made Mom and me feel really good to see them able to let their hair down and just be Mother and Son and simply lovers. It seemed incredibly unfair that it was so hard for them to get any time for themselves and I felt very lucky that Mom and I had been able to establish our own anonymous life together.

Later that evening, Mom and I prepared Nana’s own gnocchi recipe and grilled some eggplant and zucchini for our dinner. Both Gina and Paul were immensely appreciative of a home-cooked meal after the better part of four months on the road. We had a wonderful dinner and got to know one another as the evening progressed. The kids took an immediate shine to both of them and they were immediately anointed as Auntie Gina and Uncle Paulie. I could tell they were touched by the unconditional acceptance of our children and this further served to cement our growing closeness. There was a certain wistfulness in their interactions with the twins, Jase and Emmy that I couldn’t put my finger on at first, but which became clear later that evening, when Gina complimented us on our family.

Mom brought things out into the open at that point, asking, “I don’t want to presume, Gina, but it seems to me that you and Paul would be wonderful parents. I know that combining touring with kids would be incredibly challenging, but have you two thought about it?”

“Thanks so much for that compliment, sugar,” Gina replied softly. “Unfortunately, that’s not in the cards for the two of us. You see, we looked into it some time ago. We’re both cystic fibrosis carriers.”

Mom was immediately stricken with remorse, tears springing up quickly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Gina! I should have kept my big mouth shut and not have been so damn nosey. Please forgive me!”

“It’s all right, sugar. We’ve got each other and we’ve had plenty of time to come to grips with it. We’re already so blessed, anything more would seem downright greedy.”

Later, as we cleaned up from dinner, Paul took me aside, somewhat apprehensive and embarrassed.

“Rick, I happened to notice that the guest bedroom shares a wall with yours. It’s kinda embarrassing, but I’m a little worried about tonight. When Mom and I are together, well, uhh, she can be a bit loud, if y’all know what I mean. I have a feelin’, bein’ here with y’all, she’s like to really let her hair down, knowin’ there’s no pryin’ eyes or ears. I hope y’all won’t be offended or anything.”

Grinning widely, I slapped Paul on the back and laughed.

“Thanks for the heads up, man. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I may just owe you both a big thank you for that. You see, my mom is not exactly a shrinking violet herself. I know for a fact that there’s nothing in the world that gets her motor running like hearing another mother and son making love, so please, feel free to pull out all the stops tonight. She’ll love it and so will I.”

It turned out that Paul wasn’t kidding about Gina. It wasn’t that she was simply a moaner or screamer, she was vocal. Man, we had an almost running play by play as Paul gave her his son cock throughout the evening. Mom was so turned on, she could hardly stand it. I can hardly remember a time together when she was as aggressive or loud on her own part. I’m sure Gina and Paul got just as much an earful as we did. Mom was so much on fire, that for the first time since we were together, I worried about being able to keep up with her.

Around eleven pm, things finally quieted down for around an hour or so and I was glad of the respite. I was sticky with sweat and mix of son cream and mommy juice and definitely in need of a breather. Mom’s loving had been especially liquid, this particular evening having produced some absolutely epic squirting. Even though we had laid down towels as a precaution, the sheets were clearly going to have to be changed if we were to get any sleep. We quietly showered together and changed the bedding, slipping back under the sheets around midnight. Just as I was starting to slip into some well-deserved sleep, we heard something through the wall again.

The noise we heard this time was entirely different from anything we encountered earlier during the evening’s festivities. It started as a low-pitched groan, punctuated by guttural grunting and outright growls. It was absolutely feral and animalistic in its quality. Mom immediately divined the significance of what we were hearing, gripping my arm and hissing in my ear.

“He’s fucking her in the ass, I just know it. That nasty boy is shoving his cock up his mother’s tight little butthole! ”

“Well if he is, he’s doing a good job of it,” I observed.

As if to confirm my opinion, we heard Gina again clearly.

“Ohhh, yeah baby, Momma loves it when you do her ass. Fuck my ass, baby! Harder, Paulie, harder!” we heard her cry. Within moments, Gina had been reduced to incoherent moans and growls and we could clearly hear the loud slap of flesh on flesh as her ardent son sodomized her.

Mom always went into erotic orbit whenever she heard Shawn and Marsh going at it in the guest room, but there was something particular about mom-son butt fucking that absolutely threw gasoline on her fires of arousal. Before I knew it, Mom was furiously sucking my cock, trying to bring me back to hardness, but I was fucked out and down for the count. Nothing she did seemed to be able to rouse me from dormancy and she whimpered in frustration.

Her need for release radiated like a small sun and I knew at that moment I had to do something to put out those fires. Rolling Mom onto her back, I pushed her knees onto her chest, spreading her thighs wide and dove into my rescue mission, tongue wagging. Within a minute, her legs were scissored around my head and her hands anchored almost painfully in my hair, as she thrust her sex onto my greedy mouth, rubbing her pussy over my entire face as she gyrated beneath me.

Wetting my fingers in her copious honey, I found her little pucker with my middle finger as I lapped up her flow like a thirsty dog. The moment my fingertip slipped into her backside, she went wild.

“Oh yes, baby! Push it in! Put your finger in my ass, honey! Yes! Yessss! Put in another!”

Obliging her desires, I quickly added a second digit to my probing of her rectum, which only served to inflame her even further. Abandoning her hold on my hair, she grasped the backs of her thighs and spread herself wide open, arching up her pelvis to completely expose her brown eye to me.

“Oh, God Ricky! Yes! That’s it baby! Yes, more, more, more!” she moaned.

Adding a third finger, I began thrusting into her back channel with even more force than before, mesmerized as Mom totally gave into the lewd sensations emanating from her ass. Completely overtaken by the moment, she began to thrust back at me, meeting every forward lunge of my hand with her own grunting counterthrust. By now, her juices were visibly flowing, running down her perineum and coating my hand, adding a nasty, wet squelch to the background of her moans and grunts.

Rarely, if ever had I seen Mom so completely abandon herself to her desires. Her entire being seemed focused on the sensations emanating from her abused bottom. As I watched her consumed by the forbidden feelings from my hand, the sights and sounds accomplished what her lips and tongue were unable to do a few minutes before. I got hard again.

Before long, Mom noticed my resurgence and grinned wickedly.

“You know what to do, Ricky. You know what I need. C’mon baby, put that thing in Mommy’s asshole,” she commanded.

As I turned towards the nightstand, searching for our lube, Mom grasped my thigh and pulled me back towards her.

“Put it in me now,” she hissed. “Put your cock in my ass now, baby.”

“But Mom, I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Just fuck me, baby. Stick it up my butt, honey,” she pleaded.

As I moved back between her legs, Mom cocked her pelvis up and moved her legs onto my shoulders. Taking my bull by the horn, she ran the head of my cock between her lips several times to wet it and then firmly guided me to her rosebud.

“I want to watch you while you do me, sweetie,” she smiled, eyes glinting with lust and love.

As I pressed myself into her sphincter, Mom groaned and rose up to meet me, arms reaching around my shoulders, pulling me to her. As I lay on her, slowly working into her scalding hole, she whispered hoarsely in my ear, “That’s it, Ricky. Put it all the way in. Fuck your mommy in her ass.”

With only her natural lubrication, the sensations of heat and tightness from her ass were magnified to an almost unbearable degree. I slowly sank into her, intently watching her face for any signs of discomfort. When I bottomed out (pardon the pun), she groaned, fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Ahhh, so good son, sooo good,” she crooned.

I began moving myself slowly and carefully, always watching her face for any evidence of pain, but Mom wasn’t having any of that.

Whispering hoarsely in my ear, she made her wants clear.

“You’re not going to hurt me, baby. I want it this way. It feels so good, honey, so good.” She paused, sliding her hands off my shoulders to grip my arms. “Let’s go, now. C’mon Ricky. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Fuck it hard.”

As I picked up my tempo, Mom urged me on with hoarse, lusty whispers, which gradually increased in volume and vehemence, until she was practically shouting.

“Harder, Ricky! Come ON, baby! Harder! Fuck me harder! Do my ass, baby, DO IT!”

By now, I was so consumed with passion, all semblance of control was gone. You would think that after the evening’s previous efforts and my delayed return to excitement, that I would have had the stamina of a bull, but it wasn’t so. Perhaps it was the especially intense stimulation of Mom’s minimally lubricated ass, or maybe her complete and total surrender to lust and her response to my ass fucking, or maybe both, but in any event, I found myself approaching orgasm with completely unexpected speed and intensity, as I pounded Mom’s ass for all I was worth.

The lewd, loud smack of flesh on flesh, the stretch and distension of her asshole as I stroked in and out and her animalistic moans pushed me over the edge and I speared myself into her rectum with all my strength, rooting into place as I hosed my entire being into her ass. As I squirted uncontrollably, Mom’s fingernails ran red furrows down my back and her eyes rolled back into her head.

“Oh God, yes! Oh yes, baby! In my ass!” she shrieked, shuddering into limpness beneath me.

As I carefully rolled off her, my deflating cock slid out of her ass with an obscene plop, a small amount of my cream dribbling down her crack as her pulsing orifice slowly closed itself.

I gently turned her inert form onto her side and spooned up against her abused behind, putting my arms round her. She gave a small sigh and settled against me and was soon softly snoring. I barely had time to register an awed “wow” in my head before I plunged off my own ebon cliff and into comforting darkness.


I awoke to streaming sunlight and gentle kisses on my eyes and lips, Mom regarding me with a warm smile as she brushed my hair off my forehead.

“Hello there, lover boy. Sleep well?”

I stretched until my joints practically popped and yawned hugely.

“I’m not sure if it was sleep, or more of a coma. You fucked me under the table last night, Mom,” I smiled, pulling her under my arm.

Blushing, she snuggled up close to me and whispered in a confessional voice, “I don’t know what it is about a son doing his mom in the ass, but whenever I think about it, I start burning up. It’s so…so out there, so nasty and forbidden. I guess I must be some kind of perv, but I just love it – the whole idea, the taboo, everything. Plus, Gina just sounded sooo sexy while Paul was doing her.”

“Me too, Mom,” I agreed, brushing her hair back over her ear. “But, there’s a lot more to it, at least from where I sit.”


“Oh yeah. Imagine how much a mother must love her son just to sleep with him in the first place, then, to totally commit her body to him, to be willing to give him…that… her special, secret place. Wow. That’s real trust, real love, giving everything like that.”

Pulling her close for a big hug, I whispered, “That’s how a son really knows how lucky he is, how much his mom truly loves him, when she gives him her ass. It’s a beautiful, sexy, loving gift.”

“I never thought of it that way, Ricky. It almost seems like an oxymoron, calling butt fucking romantic,” she said with a laugh.

“Well, that’s how I feel, mom. But I like the nasty, sexy part of it too,” I affirmed, grinning wickedly.

Stirring and stretching, Mom extricated herself from my embrace.

“Okay, Prince Charming, I’ve gotta get up and pee, plus I’m still leaking cum. I need to clean up.”

“You feel okay, Mom? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Pausing to peck my cheek, she smiled reassuringly, “No sweetie, I’m just a little sore, but in a really nice way. It might be a couple days before I’m ready to try that again, but nothing’s broke.”

As she walked to the bathroom, hips swaying, she added over her shoulder, “I’m a big girl Ricky and I can take a good pounding when I want it, so don’t worry, okay?”

“Love you, Mom,” I called out as she closed the bathroom door.

Heaving myself out of bed, I put on a pair of sweats and a ratty tee shirt and headed to the kitchen to get coffee going. Emmy needed her meds and everyone needed breakfast. I cut up some fruit and doled out some of Mom’s homemade granola into bowls and went to rouse the band of little hellions. By the time I had everyone dressed and fed, Mom arrived, fresh from her shower, hair still damp.

Smiling an unspoken “thank you,” she settled into her seat and made the usual motherly adjustments to the kid’s wardrobes, making sure everyone finished their breakfasts.

When she finished, I filled her mug and put it in front of her. “Coffee for my queen,” I quipped.

As the kids filed downstairs to wait for the school bus, Mom peered over the rim of her mug, smiling wistfully.

“You spoil me rotten, lover.”

Lowering my voice, I teased, “Nothing’s too good for my favorite butt slut.”

“Ricky! Be quiet! Someone might hear!” she scolded, blushing furiously.

“The kids are all downstairs, Mom. Gina and Paul are still asleep,” I countered. “In any event, do you really think that they don’t know that I was balls deep in your gorgeous ass last night?” I added, nodding towards the guest bedroom. “You weren’t exactly shy and retiring, you know.”

“For God’s sake, Ricky, you hush up now, d’you hear me?”

I got up and stood next to her, putting my arm over her shoulder. Bending to her ear, I whispered, “Okay, hot ass. I’ll cut you some slack.”

Laughing and rolling her eyes, Mom swatted my ass and gave me a shove towards the bathroom. “Behave yourself, hotshot. Now, get out of my hair and go get cleaned up. You’ve got a restaurant to run and I have contracts to go over.”

Pausing in the doorway, I turned back to her one last time.

“I do, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“Love you, Mother mine.”

“I know, sweet boy, I know. Now, get going.”



During their stay, Gina and Mom’s relationship blossomed into a very deep friendship, in some ways even more close than the bond she already shared with Marsh, but very clearly different. One thing I noticed right from the get go with Mom and Gina was how tactile they were with each other. There was fairly constant touching of hands and arms when they were talking and when they were in the kitchen together, they seemed to brush up against each other more than the closeness of quarters or the task at hand seemed to call for. I thought I was imagining things at first, but as the week progressed, I thought I could sense a certain tension when the two of them were together.

To say the least, I was surprised by what I thought I was seeing in the interactions between Mom and Gina, and I wasn’t alone.

It was on a Saturday afternoon, when I had a little down time between the end of lunch service and beginning mis en place for dinner. Mom and Gina were out shopping, so I came back upstairs to the apartment to see how Paul was faring. Over coffee, we discussed how quickly Mom and Gina seemed to be bonding with each other.

“I think it’s great how close they’ve become since you guys came to visit, ” I began. “They’ve really taken a shine to one another. I’m really happy for Mom, she doesn’t have many close friends and she really can only open up to Gina or Marsh.”

“Mom’s been really lonely since Aunt Lou passed away,” Paul agreed. “I’m very glad she’s found a real friend. Your Mom is a great lady. If you don’t mind my sayin’ so, I think she’s smart and very attractive.”

“Thanks, bro. I could say the same. If I wasn’t already with the sexiest woman on earth, you’d have to beat me with a stick to keep me away from Gina. She’s beautiful, inside and out.”

Paul smiled widely and nodded sagely in assent, then his expression turned more serious and somewhat uncertain.

“Rick, I’m wonderin’ about something I’ve noticed since we came to visit. I think we’re gettin’ to be pretty good friends, but I want to ask you somethin’ kinda personal. Is that okay?”

“Sure, man. I’ll let you know if I think you’re out of bounds, but I promise I won’t get mad,” I assured him.

“Well, it’s about Mom and Jen. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but I think I see somethin’ a little different about how they get along, y’know? All the touchin’, some glances, things like that. I haven’t known my mom to be that way, but I’m startin’ to think they might, uh, you know…ummm…be attracted to one another?”

I felt like I had been smacked on the side of the head with a two-by-four. I think I had subliminally registered some of the things Paul was talking about, but sort of thrust them to the back of my mind without further thought. Now considering things in full daylight though, it seemed ridiculously obvious.

“Wow. Holy shit. Wow,” I croaked, in an epic display of verbal expressiveness. “You may be right, Paul.”

“How do you feel about it? Do you think it’s a problem?”

“Wow again. I’m not sure what to think. I never, ever considered that Mom might, uhm, be…you know, uhm…bi. Until now, I never saw anything to make me think so.”

“Me either, Rick. It’s all kinda weird and unexpected, but to be honest, it sort of turns me on, the thought of them together.”

“Are you going to talk with Gina about this?”

“Man, I just don’t know. I’m not sure how to approach it. I trust Mom absolutely and I know we’re forever, but geez, I never thought something like this would ever come up. What about you?”

“We have no secrets,” I said simply. “I just need to figure out the right timing. It’s so weird to talk about it, but I think I’m okay with the whole idea, that is if they decide they want to, you know, uhm, get together. What I do think is that I’ll give Mom all the room and privacy she needs to sort things out. Are you going to be okay with that, Paul?”

Letting out a gusty sigh, Paul absently rubbed his jaw, lost in thought. After a minute, he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“Well, Rick, I guess when it comes down to the nub, I’m good. I love her to death and if this turns out to be part of who she really is, then I can accept that.”

“I feel exactly the same. When we do talk, I’m going to tell Mom that this is her own business. If she and Gina decide to share with us, that’s would be really cool, but in the end, what matters is what she’s going to be comfortable with.”

“I’m with you, Rick. I just want Mom to be happy. I guess if I’m going to share her, there’s no one else I’d rather see her with,” he conceded. “Isn’t this just the strangest shit?”

Serendipitously, Mom and Gina returned from their shopping expedition about five minutes later, walking into the flat together arm in arm, chatting like the oldest of friends, each carrying a large bag in their free hands.

“We’re back, sugar!” Gina called out to Paul.

“Hey, Mom,” Paul acknowledged. “Successful trip?”

“We had a wonderful afternoon, Paulie. It’s so nice to shop with someone who understands you, who can walk a mile in your shoes, y’know? Plus, Jen took me to lunch at the downtown Nonna’s. My God, it was scrumptious. Alain treated us like royalty and made sure we weren’t bothered at all.”

“So, when do we get to see the fruits of your labors?” I asked Mom.

“All in good time, handsome, all in good time,” she teased.

When we retired for the evening, our guests and brood all settled, Mom decided that she wanted some son sausage for dessert. I was ready, willing and wanting to do more, but she was in a take-charge sort of mood. Pushing me gently back on our bed, she carefully pulled off my jeans and boxers; setting to work with all the skill and concentration she could muster. Pausing only to strip down to her underwear, she lavished attention on my pole, totally focused on curling my toes, which she did with masterful ease. She teased me to the edge of explosion so many times, I lost count. Eventually, she granted my release from her ecstatic prison and I gave her an epic load of my love, none of which was wasted.

“Mmmm, Ricky. That was wonderful. You taste so good. Sometimes I forget just how delicious your cum is. I guess I’m usually in too much of a hurry to get fucked,” she laughed. “It’s hard to decide if I like feeling your cum inside me more or eating it all up, my gorgeous boy.”

“Either way, I’m still the luckiest guy alive, Mom.”

“You’re so sweet. You make your Mom feel very good.”

Pulling her up to my side, I gave her a tender kiss. “I hope to make you feel even better in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t need to, sweetheart. I just wanted to show you how much I love you, Ricky.”

“And you did. But you have to realize that in my universe, the stars and planets fall out of alignment if I don’t give my beautiful Mom her own orgasm at least once a day,” I explained, slipping my hand under her bra.

Mom sighed and settled in closer to me as I rolled her nipple between my fingers. Our lips found each other as I cradled her heavy softness in my hand, tongues twining. She tasted sweet, her own flavor alloyed with the mint of her toothpaste.

My other hand found its way to her damp furrow, fingers gliding lightly over the dew-slicked fabric of her gusset. Breaking our kiss, I slid to her hips, taking the waistband of her cotton panties into both hands. Smiling, she lifter her pelvis and I pulled them to her feet. Hooking the fabric with one of her toes, she pulled them over her other foot and onto the floor, opening herself to me.

There’s something about that moment that always gets to me, makes my heart stutter a bit and my breath catch in my throat. When her thighs part and I see her gorgeous cleft, those succulent, dewy lips and amazing, full ginger bush, everything is renewed and it’s like my first time with her all over again. When I see her like that, smiling, with a look of passion and expectation, I get a shiver, knowing it’s my mother, waiting for me, her son, to love her. Not if I had her ten times a day, every day for the rest of my life, would I get ever tired of that sight.

Slipping my hands under her calves, I drew them up to the softness behind her knees, gently pushing them up and apart. Trailing lips and tongue along the inside of her thigh, I slowly worked my way to her center. As I found her slick lips, tongue delving deeply, her hands came to my head, lightly touching my hair.

“Oh yes, Ricky. That’s it. So good, baby. So good, so niiiccce,” she said, her voice trailing to a sibilant whisper.

I continued my oral obeisance to Mom, alternating between deep, coiling explorations of her channel with broad-tongued, canine licks, extending from her perineum to near her nubbin, taking care that I did not actually touch her there.

Between licks, I teased her with words as well as tongue.

“Mmmm, you taste so good, Mom. Do you like it when your son eats your pussy?”

“Ohhh, God, yes, baby.”

“Do you like it when I push my tongue up all the way inside…like this?”

“Ahhh, baby so good. You eat Momma’s cunt so good,” she moaned, fingers around the back of my head, pulling me close.

I bent to my task with a will, using all of my accumulated knowledge of Mom’s lovely flower, doing my very best to push her to the brink. As her hands gripped my head more tightly and her thrusts against my tongue became more urgent, an idea came to me.

A sneaky, naughty, very, very sexy idea.

I focused my attention on her clit, encompassing her nub with my lips, vibrating my tongue as quickly as possible. Just as I felt her reach the edge of orgasm, I stopped for a brief moment.

Lifting my head up, I looked into her pleading, hooded eyes and said, “This is Gina’s tongue.”

Mom’s eyes flew open wide with shock and then I dove back in, sticking my tongue as far as I could up her vagina, rubbing her clit with my thumb.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs.


Her face was screwed into an expression of incredulous ecstasy, bordering on a grimace of pain, as she crushed my face into her sex, nearly pulling my hair out by the roots, boxing my ears as she roared through her climax.

And she squirted. Sweet Jesus, how she squirted. I couldn’t even come close to keeping up with the flow of liquid fountaining from her center. It ran down my chin. It went up my nose. It splashed in my eyes, practically blinding me. She kept coming and it kept coming until I almost choked on her flood.

Finally, Mom laid back on the duvet, breasts heaving, thighs sheened with her own release. She struggled to catch her breath, totally consumed by her delirious pleasure. As she lay inert in my arms, slightly slick with the sweat of her release, she slowly stirred and looked at me with a strange combination of contentment and anxiety, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Ricky…when you were licking me, when you said…when you said that…about…about, um, uh…Gina,” she paused, blushing heavily, too embarrassed to continue. Visibly gathering herself, she took a deep breath and asked, “Why did you do that?”

Hugging her tightly for reassurance, I kissed her gently, looking at her with love.

“I’m sorry Mom, did I upset you? It sounded to me like it really set you off. That was an epic orgasm.”

“It sure was, but somehow, I feel…I feel like I’m being unfaithful, having that reaction,” she said in a miserable rush. “What must you think of me, having those…those thoughts?”

“That I love you just as much now as I did five minutes ago, silly lady.”

“It doesn’t bother you? Because it does bother me. I’ve never had those feelings before, about any woman. It don’t know what it means – what it means about me and even more, what it might mean about us,” she confessed in a plaintive whisper, eyes welling. “It scares me, Ricky, it scares me a lot – almost as much as when I was thinking about us, before we were together.”

“Do you think that Gina ever could or would come between us, Mom? Because I don’t. You’re mine and I’m yours, for always.”

Propping myself on one elbow, I took her hand in mine and kissed it. “I’ve seen the way you and Gina get along with each other, Mom. There’s real electricity there, a real sexual connection. Paul and I have both noticed it and we’re not exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer when it comes to stuff like that. It’s real. And it’s okay, love, its okay if you feel that way.”

“I don’t feel like you’re being unfaithful, Mom,” I added gently. “We’re true to each other because that’s how we want to be – it completes us. We don’t own each other, we love each other.”

“Would it bother you if Gina and I…if we were to be together?”

“No, Mom. It might be a teensy bit jealous about sharing my queen with someone else, but I’ve thought it through already, and so has Paul. We’re both cool with it, if that’s where you two want things to go.”

“Would…would you want to watch?”

“I think it would be incredibly hot to see the two most beautiful women I know make love, “I said with a lecherous smile, “But this isn’t about me, it’s about you and Gina, Mom. I think this is something really personal and private, so you should have the space you need to figure things out. If you both decide later on that you want to share with me and Paul, it would be our thrill and privilege.”

“Wow, how did you get so wise so young?” Mom asked, anxiety temporarily erased with a small smile.

“I’m no genius Mom. Anyway, it’s actually very simple. All I need to do is think about what’s best for my girl, what’s going to make her happy, and how much I love her.”

“You make me feel very lucky and very loved, my sweet son,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Drying her cheek with my thumb, I kissed her slowly, gently. “I totally believe in us, Mom. You should relax and go with the flow, see what happens. Just do what feels good and right for you.”

“Okay, Ricky, I will. Right now though, can you just hold me? I need to be held.”

“Of course, momma-love,” I assured her. I gathered her to me, spooning up against her and lacing my fingers with hers. “Always,” I whispered, as we both drifted off.

The next morning, Mom was already up when I rolled out of bed to start my day. I was greeted with a warm kiss and a perfect mug of coffee when I found my way into the kitchen.

“Sleep well, Mom?”

“I woke up around 5 am,” she said tiredly. “I was thinking about last night, what you did and said,” she said softly, her voice trailing off as a blush rose on her cheeks.

Taking in the uncertain look on her face, I gathered her in for a hug and a big smooch.

“News flash,” I said in a gently teasing voice. “I love you more every day I’m with you, Mom. That’s never going to change. Just relax, pretty one. Nothing you do is going to upset me,” I said reassuringly.

“But what if what happens, changes me?” she asked plaintively, her lower lip trembling.

“Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with Gina and not love me anymore, Mom?”

She stood stock still, like a doe trapped in a clearing, face wide with fear. Slowly nodding once, her eyes began to glisten. Burying her face in my shoulder, she cried, clinging to me, “I’d rather die than hurt you, Ricky, I’d rather die!”

“Shhhh,” I soothed, squeezing her tightly. “Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “That’s why I know everything will be all right, Mom. Trust yourself, pretty lady, you’ll be fine, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

After a while she finally relaxed against me, simply snuggling. Gradually, I let my arms trail down from her shoulders to her arms, holding her away from me, kissing her forehead.

“This is my last word on the subject, momma-love,” I said gently. “You are the most loving, generous and giving person I’ve ever known. You are and always have been the best mother to me and to our children. I think your heart is big enough to hold more than one person in it, without pushing out the other one. Because I know you, my goddess, I know you.”

“If you do this, it’ll be because you love Gina. I think you ARE going to fall in love with her if you make love, Mom. The beauty of it is that it won’t cost you anything – it will be something totally different from you and me. It will just add something to your life you didn’t have before. It will make you happy. My girl deserves all the happiness she can grab hold of.”

Finally, I felt and saw the tension melt out of her; her face relaxing and a small, shy smile appearing on her lips.

“Okay, Ricky. Okay. I believe you, you incredible, amazing man. I hope we’re both up for this. It’s going to be a hell of a ride, I think.”

Clearly gathering herself, Mom took in a deep breath and stood up straight, her eyes boring into mine. She gave me a kiss that singed my eyebrows and then spoke resolutely.

“I need you to do me a favor, Ricky. I think if I don’t do something right now, I’ll lose my nerve. Do you think you can give me a few hours today? Be out of the house for awhile?”

“That’s the woman I love talking,” I smiled. “Strong, decisive and very courageous.”

“I always thought I was too timid and cautious for my own good,” she sighed.

“This from a woman who fucks her son every night, who let him finger her butt to orgasm on a public dance floor, who let her son get her pregnant not once, but THREE times? Sheesh, Mom, go take a look in the mirror, willya?”

“You’re embarrassing me again, Ricky!” she blushed.

“Here’s what I’m going to do today, Mom. Paul has wanted to see the Whistler operation for some time now. We’ll drive up there as soon as he’s ready. Give me a text when you’re ready for us to come back.”

“Oh God, Ricky! I must be crazy doing this!” she shuddered.

“Just roll with it, Mom. Be relaxed, see what happens.” I reminded her.

“Oh, and one other thing, momma-love,” I teased, leaning to whisper in her ear. “Let me know if I need to stop on the way home to get a strap-on.”

“Jesus CHRIST, Ricky!” Mom exploded in embarrassment. “You are such a fucking brat! Now, get out of here before I kill you!” she growled, exasperated, blushing, and affectionate all at the same time.

I pecked her cheek and headed out the door. “Have fun, pretty lady.”


As you might imagine, during the two hours when Paul and I made our way up the Sea-To-Sky Highway, there was really only one topic of conversation. We talked about our Moms. It was a little awkward at first, as both of us were thinking very much about what might be happening at home, but eventually, we relaxed and then the floodgates opened. It was startling to realize how much I wanted to share what I had with Mom, to let somebody other than her know how I felt, how much I loved her and how much she excited me.

I asked Paul, “What do you like the most about being with Gina, I mean seriously?”

Paul looked at me in surprise, his expression saying, “C’mon dude, are you kidding?”

“Seriously, man,” I repeated. “Not just the bedroom stuff. Mom and I know all about that already,” I teased. After the better part of a week together, between our shared bedroom wall and Gina’s very verbal passion, I had a pretty good idea of what she and Paul got up to between the sheets.

Paul flushed for a moment and then smiled, nodding. He stared out the window for a few moments, lost in thought.

“It’s the music,” he said quietly. “It’s real hard to describe to somebody who doesn’t do it, but there’s this certain somethin’ that happens when you make music with someone. Doesn’t matter who it is on one level. There’s this feeling of..of linkage with your partner, especially when you get something completely new or unexpected to appear from out of nowhere. When you do that with someone who you are in love with, who means everything to you, well…wow. It’s almost like makin’ a baby. Now there’s somethin’ out there that wouldn’t exist but for the two of you. When Mom and I make love, we feel so close, so linked. When we do it after we make a song together, well, it’s…that closeness is beyond anything I know how to describe.”

“Some days she shows up in our studio with a notepad full of ideas and we just fool around with stuff, y’know, figuring out chords and melodies, playin’ with the lyrics. It’s incredibly fun, just such a rush as we make somethin’ out of nothin’. Other times, we can just be sittin’ around, fiddlin’ with our guitars and something pops up. She looks at me, I look at her and we just know, y’know? The song just kind of happens. We’ve had hits doin’ it both ways, but when it happens the second way, it’s magic.”

“You familiar with ‘Green Bayou, Blue Heart?’” Paul went on.

“That was your first number one, wasn’t it?

“Sure was. That got written the second way. We got the first two verses done in about ten minutes and they were fuckin’ perfect: It was like we knew what the other was thinkin’ even before we got anything down on paper. The connection was, is, amazing. And hot. It’s like…like, uhm, foreplay in the mind and heart.”

“Mom’s always incredible in bed,” Paul said, coloring slightly.

“We noticed,” I interrupted drily.

“Absolutely incredible, but I’m tellin’ you, after we finished those first two verses, we were on fire for each other. We made love for two hours straight and it was, next to our first time, probably the best we ever were with each other. Five minutes after we were done in bed, we were back writing and we knocked down the chorus and the third and fourth verses in another half hour. Then we spent the rest of the day between the sheets. We couldn’t stop, we felt so close, so connected.”

“So,” he continued, drawing a deep breath to calm himself, “Less than an hour’s worth of work and a half day lovin’ each other to death made us rich and famous. And to this day, it’s still some of our best writin’ and composin’.”

By then, we had arrived at the resort and I took Paul on a literal “cook’s tour.” We had lunch in the restaurant, probably knocking back a few more beers than we should have. Our “momversation” continued, tongues somewhat loosened by the alcohol. We didn’t tell each other any tales out of school, but it was great to be able to talk about the incredible women in our lives with someone who “got it.”

About three o’clock, Paul and I got nearly simultaneous texts. The message from Mom had me hard as cast ferroconcrete in ten seconds and I could tell that Gina’s shout out to her son was having a similar effect.

My text read “Rcky, lv. Cum home now, b4 Gina licks ur Mom 2 death.Xoxoxoxox,M”

Glancing at me, Paul raised an eyebrow and I knew. We traded phones without a word. His text message said, “Hurry bak, P. Jenny 2 tasty, tongue 2 tired now. LuvU2pieces, M.”

“Rick,” Paul drawled, a smile on his face, “We done created a monster, I think.”

“Sounds like a happy monster, though,” I agreed.

“Rick, are we the two luckiest sunzabitches in the world, or what?”

“Word, bro, word.”

We passed most of the return trip in silence, each of us probably thinking about what new direction our lives might be turning in now.

When we got back home, Gina and Mom were sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee, the very picture of decorous suburban motherhood. When I Paul and I entered the room, they glanced at each other and rose from their chairs simultaneously. Mom walked up to me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. I then had one of the most erotic experiences of my life. When Mom’s tongue found mine, I noticed a strange, tangy and salty taste, somehow familiar but at the same time, mysterious. Then it bowled over me like a runaway freight train.

For the first time in my life, I was tasting another woman on my mother’s lips.

As our kiss continued, and the realization hit home, I found myself incredibly aroused. My cock became erect at lightning speed and suddenly, there was nothing in the universe but Mom, me and my burning need for her. My hands drifted down to cup her ass and she moaned into my mouth, her right leg hooking around my hips as she ground her mound against my crotch.

Realizing we were standing in the middle of the kitchen, I opened my eyes to find Paul and Gina already gone. The soft click of the guest bedroom door closing confirmed my impression that we were now alone.

“God, Ricky,” Mom panted in my ear. “I’m so bad. I’ve been cumming my brains out all day long and I still can’t get enough. I’m such a slut,” she sighed, burying her head in my shoulder.

“You’re my beautiful, loving mother,” I murmured reassuringly into her ear. “You’re my gorgeous, hot, wife-mom,” I whispered. “You’re my sexy, fearless lady, who’s not afraid to be herself.”

Mom gradually relaxed in my embrace; slowly rubbing herself against my groin, leg still wrapped around my hip. She was flowing so much that her honey was beginning to dampen the front of my pants

“Are you going to take me to bed now, Ricky?” she asked in a throaty whisper. “Mommy needs to be with her son. Momma’s had enough pussy for one day and now she needs some of her boy’s sweet cock,” she breathed in my ear. “Your mother needs to get fucked now, son. What are you going to do about it?”

Gathering her into my arms, I hurried to our bedroom, “I’m going to do whatever my momma asks,” I said, lips locking with hers.

Laying her on the bed, I stepped back, hands going to my belt buckle. Mom pulled her skirt up around her hips and quickly jerked her panties down, slowly spreading her thighs, cocking her hips up towards me in an undulating motion. Reaching up, she pulled my pants and boxers quickly to my knees, grabbing my ass with one hand, drawing me in. Her legs now spread widely, panties wetly dangling from one ankle, she grabbed my cock and brought it to her sopping pussy.

“I need you in me now, sweet boy,” she murmured. “Momma needs you. Hurry, baby.”

As I slid home into her moist, slick vise, I groaned.

“Oh Mom, you always feel so good to me. So tight, so wet!”

“Ah, yes, Ricky,” she exhaled. “That’s it baby. So good. So hard for your momma. Fuck me, baby. Make me cum.”

I continued to stroke into her, my hands clutching her ass as she wrapped her arms around my back, whispering sweet sounds into my ear, nuzzling my neck. Abruptly, Mom rolled us into our sides and then put me on my back, never losing our connection. It was incredibly erotic, being buried to the hilt in Mom, her blouse still buttoned, our joining hidden by the flowing fabric of her skirt draped over our hips. She remained fully seated on my hardness, simply rocking her pelvis back and forth as she rubbed her clit against my pubic bone, hands resting on my chest. I couldn’t see under her skirt, but the partially hidden rocking of her pelvis against me was somehow especially arousing for its concealment. I opened my eyes and savored Mom’s uninhibited rocking against me, watching her face as she concentrated fully on getting off.

Slowly, Mom’s hands began to clench and unclench against my shirt and her motions became more jerky. Her lips parted and she threw her head back with a keening sigh.

“Oh! Oh! Ricky! Yes, baby! Ohh! OOHHH!”

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her thighs clenched and I could feel her contractions around my cock. That was it for me and I went off the cliff, spurting like mad for what seemed like forever.

“Oh God, Mom! MOM! Mooommmmmm…” my voice trailed off to a whimper.

Mom collapsed onto me with a groan, chest heaving, her breath coming in almost painful gasps. I held her close, stroking her hair and back. As she reclaimed herself, Mom gradually snuggled against me, running her hands over my chest, stroking my cheeks, giving me small, nibbling kisses.

“That’s my good son,” she sighed contentedly, settling under my arm. “Just what your momma needed to make it a perfect day.”

After our nearly fully clothed fuck, we were both a bit sweaty, so we stripped down and got back on top of the comforter, simply relaxing. Mom was particularly affectionate, constantly touching me, running her hands over my chest, lightly kissing me everywhere. I could tell she was probably working herself up to talk, so I stayed silent, waiting. Eventually, she propped herself up on an elbow, looking at me with a small smile on her lips, eyes dancing.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me? I’m sure you’re dying to know, you horny boy,” she teased.

“Only if you want to tell me, Mom. It’s your call. If you want to share, I’m all ears,” I smiled.

Mom grinned back and blushed slightly, staring off into space as she collected her thoughts. I moved my legs apart, pulling her into the vee of my thighs, my head resting on her back, arms encircling her waist.

“Take your time, Mom. No rush. Just tell me what you’re comfortable with.”

Resting her hands on my forearms, lightly squeezing, she began.

“After you left, I was so nervous I could barely walk. The only time I’ve been more anxious was when I gave you that first kiss, back on the 4th of July. I was scared, Ricky, really scared.”

“But I was wet, too,” she confessed with a whisper. “My panties were absolutely sopping. I was squishing with every step I took and my poor clitty was throbbing so much, one touch would have made me explode.”

“I just about died from suspense, waiting for you and Paul to get out the door. I deliberately avoided Gina until you were gone. Then I went to the kitchen and found her.”

Mom took in a deep breath, steeling herself to continue. I squeezed her reassuringly.

“We sat and had some coffee, just chatting for a while. The tension was unbelievable. Finally, we just sort of looked at each other and Gina said, ‘I guess we’ve got some things to talk about, sugar.’”

“I said that we should take our little talk into the living room and sit down. God, I was so nervous, Ricky, so excited, I felt like I was going mad. My heart was pounding right out of my chest and I felt sure Gina could hear my pulse, it was so loud in my ears.”

“We sat on the sofa and our hands sort of found each other. Gina’s palms were perspiring and somehow, that comforted me, knowing she was probably as nervous as I was.”

“I could barely talk above a whisper, I was so wound up. I said, ‘Gina, I don’t know any easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it – I’ve never felt this way before, but I’m very attracted to you.’”

“Gina let out a big sigh and squeezed my hands. She said, ‘I know, sugar. I feel the same thing. I’ve never, ever felt this way about another woman. It don’t know where it comes from or why, but I feel it, for sure. It’s been makin’ me crazy. I’m walkin’ around all day with wet panties. Either I’m thinkin’ about Paulie and me fuckin’ or…us, uhm, touchin’ each other…kissin’…and…other things…”

“She was licking her lips at that point, was having trouble sitting still, and God help me Ricky, I could smell her. Jesus, it was unbelievable. Her musk, God I had no idea something like that could get me so hot, just the scent. I felt like if I moved just one muscle, one twitch, I would cum just from the thought of her being wet, her smell…”

“I asked her, ‘What are we going to do about it?’”

“She said that she knew that you and Paul had talked about us and were okay, so that it was up to just the two of us.”

“I said that I thought I wanted us to get closer, but I really didn’t know the first thing about pleasing another woman, but that I wanted to make her feel good.”

“Gina smiled at that point and said, ‘I guess this is our first date, then. I reckon kissin’ is a good place to start.”

Mom paused at that point, shivering slightly in my arms as she recalled the events. I gave her another hug and kissed the top of her head. “Remember, Mom, only what you want to share, nothing more.”

Leaning back into my arms, Mom twisted her head to give me a kiss. “Thanks, darling. I do want to tell you everything. It’s just…God, this is embarrassing, but I’m getting all turned on again talking about it. You just better be ready to drive that truck over me, as soon as I’m done.”

“Okay, here goes,” she exhaled sharply.

“We sort of leaned into each other and we, uhm, we… kissed. It was very nice. It’s not like it was better than when you kiss me, Ricky,” she said quickly, trying to reassure me. “It was really different. It was so soft, gentle, caring and warm, but at the same time, it was, uhm, really hot. I was very excited. By then my panties were completely soaked.”

“We just kissed for a long time, lips, neck, shoulders, earlobes, it was all very slow, very sensuous. We sort of got lost in it, just going with the mood and the flow. I’m not sure how long we just necked, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes,” she sighed, remembering.

“It was then that Gina touched my breast and I put my tongue in her mouth,” Mom shuddered, remembering. “I didn’t think I could get any more wound up than I was, but that just raised things to a whole new level. I was burning up. Suddenly we were just all over each other. She took my blouse off and began sucking on my nipples, and you know how hot that gets me, Ricky. I put my hands under her bra and was pinching hers, which she really liked and then somehow our tops were all the way off and we were feeling each other’s breasts,” she sighed, breath quickening.

“We kissed some more and then she put her hand under my skirt and rubbed me through my panties,” she exhaled, remembering.

“I climaxed the minute her fingers went over my clit, Ricky. God! I came so hard, it was unbelievable. By then, I was just completely around the bend; I was so turned on I was shaking.”

“I returned the favor, but I didn’t mess around, I got my fingers into her pussy right away and she just went ballistic when I started to finger fuck her. I didn’t know anything about what she liked, but I just tried to do what I knew helped get me off.”

“She came almost as fast as I did, almost broke my hand when she climaxed, her thighs were so tight.”

By now, I was at full staff again, absolutely throbbing with anticipation as Mom recalled her first lesbian encounter. She immediately noticed my hardness against her back as I held her.

“Well, well,” she chuckled lasciviously, “Someone is enjoying this little story, isn’t he, you naughty boy.”

“Jesus, Mom,” I groaned. “It’s the Goddamn hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m going out of my mind, listening to all this. Don’t stop!”

“After that,” Mom continued softly, flushing, “We just sort of laid together on the couch and kissed some more, mashing our titties together and tweaking each other’s nipples. I was even more excited by then. It was like cumming once just made me want to do it again even more.”

“Then, Gina pulled off my skirt and panties and said in the sexy southern belle voice of hers, ‘Let me look at you, sugar.’”

“I started leaking like a faucet when she said that. My juice was literally running down my thighs, I was so far gone.”

Mom paused for a moment, shuddering and clenching her legs together as she remembered.

“She put her head between my legs and kissed and licked me everywhere, behind my knees, my thighs…and when…when she licked my pussy the first time, God, Ricky, it was amazing! I came again the first time her tongue hit my little button and I squirted like a hose,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Did that surprise her, Mom?”

“Yes, a little. I was kind of embarrassed; that it happened and that I didn’t warn her, but it didn’t matter. She seemed to love it, though. It made her lick me all the harder, trying to get me to do it again, and when she started to finger me too, well, you know how I get, son,” she blushed sweetly.

“Oh yeah, Mom, I sure do. I love it when you grab my hair and hump my face,” I grinned. “And I’ll bet Gina did too.”

“Ricky!” she scolded, flushing furiously. “Do you have to be so…so graphic?”

“Just calling it like I see it, pretty lady.”

“Hush now, or I won’t finish the story,” she threatened.

“God forbid. My lips are sealed, Mom,” I replied hastily, suitably chastised.

“Anyway, from then on, Gina couldn’t get enough, she went totally nuts. She gave me two or three more big cums and then just sat back, stroking me with her fingertips. She said, ‘You definitely are my sugar girl now, Jennifer Marie. You taste like honey. I could munch on your sweet slit all day.’”

“You’re blushing again, Mom,” I teased gently.

“Well, what did you expect?” she asked archly. “I’m just admitting for the first time that I let another woman touch me and eat me and that I loved it!”

“What happened next, momma-love?”

Mom sat silent for some time, clearly gathering her courage and thoughts and then she took in a deep breath and began again, snuggling in tightly against me.

“Next? Well, next I took off her jeans and panties and…and I…I…I, uhm, ate pussy for the first time,” she finished in a rush, words tumbling over each other.

Lost in recollection for a moment, Mom sighed and then began again. “It was amazing. I looked at her just before I started and she smiled and said, ‘Just do what you’d like yourself, sugar pie. I’m sure I’ll love it.’”

“So…so I started. She’s shaved down there, Ricky. I could see everything. Her lips were really full and dark, almost the color of an iris. Her clit is pretty big, actually. When it came out from its hood, it was as big as the tip of my pinky. She was wet, creamy wet. She tasted…she tasted wonderful. Different from me, more, uhm, tangy, more musky but very nice.”

“I really liked it, Ricky,” she whispered, coloring up crimson again. “I loved eating her pussy. Now I understand why you like getting your head up my skirt so much.”

“It’s always been one of my favorite things,” I agreed, kissing the back of her neck.

“You know something else, Ricky? One of the things I was worried about was how it would feel when she went down on me. I was afraid that I’d like it better than the way you do me. I was assuming that as a woman, Gina would know how to please me more than my own son.”

“I was wrong, lover,” she said softly, turning her head to kiss me tenderly. “You’re every bit as good, if not better, and I think I know why.”

“It’s because of the way you love me, my beautiful boy. That can’t be duplicated, when a son loves his mom like you do,” she said tenderly. “So don’t you fret, big guy. You have no worries. You’re still my love.”

“You say the nicest things to your son.”

“Just the truth, Ricky, nothing more,” she murmured, turning her head to kiss my cheek.

“Anything more you want to talk about, Mom?” I inquired, nuzzling her ear.

“After I licked her to another cum, we just dozed for a while, catching our breath. After we rested, we decided to try sixty-nine with each other. We went into the guest bedroom and I laid flat on my back and she got up and straddled my face with her hips,” Mom paused. Her face was flushed again, extending to her upper chest, not from embarrassment, I thought, but fierce arousal.

“And?” I prompted.

“We went nuts. Neither of us could stop. I lost count of the times I came and made her cum,” she said hoarsely. “I spurted so much, I felt dehydrated. Had to take a break after about an hour and get a big glass of water. My knees were so weak, I could barely make it to the kitchen and back.”

“After that, I did do something that was very exciting though,” she confessed.

“Which was what?” I asked breathlessly. I could hardly imagine anything sexier than what Mom had already described and was almost comatose with excitement. Precum was practically flowing out of the tip of my cock like a small spring.

“After we rested and rehydrated for a few minutes, we did one more sixty-nine. This time I found Gina’s G-spot. I rubbed her there, sucked on her clit and put a finger up her butt. I made her squirt, Ricky! Not anything huge, but I did it!” she said proudly.

“God, it was such a turn on! When she let go on my mouth and chin, I came too, it was so exciting!”

“How did Gina feel, afterwards?” I asked with bated breath.

“I think she passed out for a couple of minutes. When she came around she hugged me so tight and kissed me so hard, I almost suffocated. She was a little teary-eyed, thanking me so much.”

“It was a wonderful feeling, making her cum so hard. I felt…very sexy…very sensual and…powerful,” she said quietly, struggling to find words for the feelings. “It’s an amazing thing to be able to give someone so much pleasure, such intense release. It’s a very liberating feeling.”

“I’m glad it was such a good experience for you, Mom,” I whispered into her ear, nuzzling her neck. “I told you it would be great. And I was right, wasn’t I? It didn’t take anything away from you and me, did it? We’re still ‘us’ and you’re still my gorgeous Mom, plus a little something extra special now.”

“Well, son, your mother is now a confirmed cunt lapper,” Mom sighed, settling back into my arms. “I like pussy, at least Gina’s. I don’t think I want to give it up. Can you live with that, Ricky?”

“Gee, Mom, I need think about that. Let’s see. My mother has taken the second most beautiful woman I know to bed and has become even more sexy, sensuous and loving than ever before.”

“Nope. Can’t deal with it,” I grinned. “Too exciting – it’ll give me a heart attack. Sorry, you’ll have to cease clit licking immediately for your son’s health.”

Mom reached behind me and found my shaft, squeezing me – hard. “Okay! Okay!” I yelped. “You can be Gina’s lover. Just let me keep my dick attached, please?” I pleaded.

“I knew I could get you to see reason,” Mom said sweetly. “That’s my boy.”

“And that’s my beautiful, sexy mother, switch hitter extraordinaire.”

“You always say such nice things to your Mom,” she giggled, converting her vise grip on my prick to a gentle caress.

Turning around, she straddled my lap, fitting me into her tight crevice, kissing me wetly and passionately.

“Fuck Mommy again, sweetheart?” she whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I murmured back, pulling her back onto my hardness.


As Mom and Gina cemented their new relationship as lovers and friends, we began to put the plans together for the Inn and new restaurant. Within a month, Marsh, Shawn and Fiona had left the Beltway madness behind and took up temporary residence in a small condo a short walk from the original Nonna’s. Using Clay MacLeish’ contacts, we were able to secure the services of a commercial architectural and construction firm to work with Marsh on the final design of the facility. During this time, Marsh greatly expanded the scope and reach of her special site, opening it to other couples, including brothers, sisters, cousins, fathers and daughters. As word of our project spread throughout her special community, we began to get inquiries almost immediately. When we broke ground two months later, we already had reservations for the private villas for fourteen months out from opening, with bookings for the regular Inn rooms putting us at nearly sixty percent occupancy for the first year. At that time, Marsh was about halfway through the process of vetting and verifying the influx of new Site members. On paper, we were almost breaking even without having put even two bricks together. It was a heady experience.

Shawn and I worked hard to refine the online Nonna’s concept and had good results, with slow steady growth beginning after being online for less than three months. At that point, I felt comfortable selling out my interest in the Whistler operation and began looking for a buyer for the original Nonna’s and the downtown branch. Within a few weeks, I had arranged a sale to a local group that owned six other establishments in the metro area, agreeing to stay on as a transitional manager for six months at a hefty consulting fee. Everything was coming together.

Somewhat to our surprise, Alain turned down an opportunity to become a managing partner for the new owners of Nonna’s downtown and elected to join our motley crew, explaining, “I have not ze need for too much money, Monsieur Rick. You, Shawn and your beautiful ladies are all I have now zat is close to family. Besides, I’m sure Madame Jenny will appreciate it if I can help you not to ‘screw ze pooch’ with the new place,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said drily. “Between you and Mom, I guess it will be more difficult to get into trouble and that’s a good thing.”

“But of course, my friend, zat is my function, to prevent ze merde from hitting ze fan, non?”

“I think you’re crazy leaving Nonna’s, Alain, but I’m damn glad to have you on board,” I said, gripping his arm. “We can only be better by having you here.”

“As always, you are too kind, Monsieur Rick. As long as you seem to have lost ze judgment,” he joked, “May I ask a favor?”

“Of course, Alain. What can I do?”

“Before I start, I wish to go back to school for a little bit. Ze University of Selkirk, zey have ze very good hotel management program. Before ze Inn opens, I should like to take some courses.”

“That’s a fantastic idea, Alain! Sign up for whatever you need and have them bill the Inn for the tuition.”

“Zat will not be necessary, Monsieur Rick, I have saved enough…”

“It ‘s not open to negotiation, Alain,” I interrupted, cutting him off. “What you’re doing will directly benefit the operation. It’s only right that we support your efforts. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” I said, grinning.

“Okay, Boss,” Alain capitulated, a small smile slowly forming.

So it worked out that Alain got his certificate and became the overall manager of the Inn and restaurant. Marsh made her own significant contribution to our staffing when she was able to convince her old web friend Linda, who was a bookkeeper, to pull up stakes in San Antonio and join us to manage our finances.

One advantage of my previous success with Nonna’s was that when Marsh and I got the word out about hiring for the Inn’s restaurant, we were deluged with applications from all over the country. Hopefuls were applying from as far away as Uppsala, Marathon Key and the Phillipines. I wanted to stay true to Marsh’ original vision for our little community, so with her cross referencing help and some deft online research by Shawn, we actually found some very talented staff for our kitchen.

Our line chef Barry and his pastry chef sister, Lisa were among our earliest recruits. Already a couple for over ten years, the fraternal twins had become lovers while in college, when they shared an apartment to save money. They were now looking for an opportunity for a life together as man and wife, having already made the wrenching decision to leave family and friends behind them. Of course all of our prospective hires had to make it through interviews with Mom and Marsh, as well as Alain and myself. I deliberately limited my input to matters of professional training and competency, having grown to implicitly trust both Mom and Marsh’ considerable people skills and intuition.

Through the Site, we also found Gloria and Luis, a mother and son from Manila, who took on the roles of heads of housekeeping and maintenance. In similar fashion, we lucked into a pair of incredibly talented cousin gardeners from California, Hiroshi and Yukari, who took on the tasks of running the restaurant’s organic garden and all of the landscaping for the compound.

In this fashion, by bits and pieces, we slowly built our special enclave, until we had a core of around twenty couples providing the lion’s share of our personnel. Surprisingly, almost a quarter of our couples had already started families and at least again as many had professed an interest in joining the ranks of parents if they decided to stay.

Given the number of future school age children we had acquired, it became apparent that we might even need to consider starting up a small school in a few years. As rewarding as my professional success with Nonna’s had been, I found that Marsh’ vision had captured my imagination fully, and that I took as much pleasure from helping to build our special community as I did from any award I every received in the past.

The first year of operation proved to be incredibly successful. We met or exceeded all our budget goals for the Inn, provided a unique vacation opportunity for kindred couples, successfully established the reputation of the restaurant and saw our online gourmet business grow by leaps and bounds. We worked our collective butts off to make it happen, but it was all truly a labor of love, in more ways than one.

Best of all, every single day I got to go to sleep and wake up at the same time as Mom, sharing meals and spending time with our wonderful brood. I knew how fortunate we were and thanked my lucky stars every day for how things had turned out.


It’s funny how major changes in your life seem to hinge on the smallest of decisions. Sometimes, big problems can be seen barreling down the road from a mile away. The economy’s bad, you owe more than you make, you have legal troubles. This kind of stuff usually has deep, slowly developing roots, so when it hits the fan, it’s usually an inevitable outcome you almost come to expect.

I had always felt that Mom and I had lived a charmed life, that we were truly fated to be together, happily ever after and all that, but about three years after we opened the Inn, the universe struck back at us with terrible, cruel randomness, nearly destroying our family. The chain of events that led to disaster began innocuously enough, with Mom being delayed by a late meeting at her office. She called to stay she was going to stay in Vancouver overnight, planning to meet us at the ferry for our visit to Dr. Prieto’s office for one of Emmy’s many follow up visits since her surgery. We would finish the checkup and then have lunch together in the city before heading home in the afternoon. We promised Emmy ice cream at the Granville Market as part of the deal. Marsh and Shawn agreed to look after the twins and Jason after they got back from school.

I rose early that morning and was gathering everything together for our trip when Mitch knocked on our door. He and Molly had just spent a long weekend together with us, taking an unused room at the Inn for some quality time together. “Hey, Rick buddy, Mom says you’re going into town with Emmy. Why don’t you come with us? Alain is going to drive us to the ferry with the van. It’s always nice to have some company for the trip back and Mom just loves Emmy to pieces. Whattaya say?”

“Sounds good. When are you leaving?”

“Ten minutes too soon?”

“Not a problem.” I was originally planning to leave on my own in about an hour, but I figured if we arrived early, it was that much more time I could spend with Mom. A son’s time with his mother is precious, after all.

We got Emmy settled in her booster seat without difficulty, her always-sunny disposition a welcome antidote to the painfully early hour of our departure. Molly and I settled in next to her on either side, immediately playing silly face games, with predictably giggle-ous results. Mitch sat shotgun with Alain and we hit the road. We made good time down Route 14, the weather clear and unusually dry for the time of year. We had just put Saseenos in our rear view mirror and I was fully engaged, watching Molly and Emmy having a tickling match as we rounded a long, sweeping turn in the highway. I saw Molly’s eyes go wide and she exclaimed “Dear God!” Simultaneously, as I began to turn back around, Alain cursed “Mere de Dieu” and jerked the steering wheel. It was then I saw the logging truck headed towards us, halfway across the centerline.

I barely had time to register the thought, “We’re all dead.”

Somehow, Alain managed to avoid a direct impact with the 18-wheeler, but we went into a slide and the rear of the truck clipped the back of the van on the driver’s side. We bounced into the guardrail and then everything went topsy-turvy as we flipped over the barrier. I saw the ground and trees rushing and spinning towards us through the windows and there was a thunderous noise, a hugely painful flash of light, followed by blackness.


When my awareness returned, someone was holding my hand, stroking my forehead. I could barely see and I had a headache that felt like a red-hot iron spike in my skull. Every breath was agony. I felt like a mule had kicked me in my right side I couldn’t seem to move or feel my left arm. I could hear the beeps and chirps of medical devices all around me. I tried to focus, but my eyes did not want to obey. Something bad happened, that I was sure of. What had I been doing? I couldn’t remember anything. It was then I heard a familiar voice. I knew that voice! This was someone I cared about, somebody I…loved? Somebody who loved…me? “I’m here, Ricky. It’s okay. Mom’s here. You’re going to be okay.”

Ricky? Ricky…Yeah! That’s me! Mom? Mom. My mother. Jennifer…my…lover? My mother, yes, my wife, yes, our children. Yeah! Anna Marie, Deirdre Lynn, Jason Michael…Emily. Oh dear God. Sweet merciful Jesus, we were going to Vancouver – a truck? Me, Alain, Molly, Mitch and Emmy. No. It can’t be. It’s not possible. Dear Lord, no, don’t let it be true. I sat bolt upright, oblivious to my headache, the screaming pain in my right chest. The room lurched into painfully sharp focus.

My left arm was in a cast, hooked up to a maze of ropes and pulleys, suspended from a metal frame which hung over the bed. There were two large, clear plastic tubes in the right side of my chest, hooked up to plastic boxes on the floor, which bubbled and spluttered as I breathed. I could see a long line of metallic staples running down the middle of my belly, beginning just below my breastbone and extending below my belly button. That hurt too. I was a mess.

Mom was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my right hand. Her hair was scraggly and disheveled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Dark circles were evident around her eyes, which were red from crying. Her skirt and blouse were badly wrinkled, clearly having been slept in. She squeezed my fingers tightly, a wan smile on her lips, eyes swimming.

“Hello darling. It’s good to have you back, husband-son,” she whispered.

“Hi Mom,” I croaked.

Mom was still crying, in spite of her smile. She was obviously overjoyed to see me awake, but there was a terrible sadness in her eyes. I could tell then that the news was not going to be good.

“I need to know, Mom – how bad?”

She took in a shuddering breath, steeling herself before beginning. “You’ve been sedated for four days. You broke your left arm. They’re going to have to do surgery on that in a day or two to fix it properly. Most of the ribs on the right were broken and your lung was collapsed. You had lacerations of your left kidney and spleen that they were able to repair, thank God. Mitch is going to be okay. He dislocated his shoulder and mangled his left leg very badly. They’re not sure if it’s salvageable, but they are trying to keep from amputating. He went up to the rehab floor yesterday. Molly had a fractured pelvis and dislocated hip.” Mom’s voice broke then and I knew. “Ricky…Emmy’s…our little baby…she’s….she’s …very sick. The doctors don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

I didn’t think it was possible to feel any more pain than I was already in, but Mom’s words were like a physical blow. Everything suddenly hurt twice as much and I felt like the life was being squeezed out of me. It was all I could do to simply nod, tears running down my cheeks. It was some minutes before I could speak. “What happened?”

“The police said it was a miracle that Alain avoided a head-on collision. The back of the truck clipped the car and it flipped over the guardrail and cartwheeled down an embankment. Your side of the car hit a big tree, right by Alain’s door. Ricky…Alain…he died instantly.”

Mom broke down and was unable to continue. We held onto each other’s hands desperately, each trying to draw strength from the other. Eventually Mom found her voice. “Both of Emmy’s legs were broken and her liver was badly damaged. They did surgery, but the liver is still not working right. If things don’t begin to turn around in the next 24 hours…we may lose her,” she sobbed, completely losing her voice.

“Not again,” I whispered. My daughter, at death’s door, my good friend and mentor Alain, gone, just like Gramps and Nana, it was more than I could take. As I lay in the bed, tears streaming down my face, I got angry. “Fuck this. I need to see Emmy.” I began pulling out my IV and reached for my chest tubes. Mom was at my side in an instant, grasping my hands with surprising strength.

“For God’s sake, Ricky, settle down. There’s nothing you can do. Please. Please sweetheart.” She was weeping as she held me back in the bed, pinning my hands as I cursed and struggled weakly. A nurse appeared with a syringe in hand, but Mom waved her off. “Please, Ricky,” she whispered, “Please don’t do this. I need you. I need you to get better. If I lose you too, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she sobbed.

Looking at Mom crying, I finally came to my senses. I relaxed and laid back, touching her cheek with my good hand. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered. “I won’t leave you, I promise. I’ll get better, I will. Please don’t cry. I’ll be here for you.”

Mom smiled wanly and hiccuped a couple of times, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her makeup. “I told your doctors that if…” her voice caught and she corrected herself. “When you woke up that wild horses wouldn’t keep you away from Emmy, so they’d better figure out how they were going to accommodate you, so I guess we’ll have to have that discussion with them now.”

Mom gestured to the nurse who was hovering outside my room. “Dana, could you please see if Doctor Sykes is available to talk with us?”

“I’ll page him right now, Mrs. Lewis. He wanted to know right away when your husband woke up. If he’s not in surgery, he should be over shortly.”

About 10 minutes later Dr. Sykes showed up. He was almost the medical cliché of a trauma surgeon, sandy-haired, muscular, athletic, straight talking and with a decidedly no-nonsense manner. He looked as though he was probably born wearing a pair of scrubs. He stood in the doorway to the room, perusing my chart, pulling thoughtfully at his lower lip as he digested my latest vital signs and lab results. He then strode quickly to the side of my bed and took my hand. “Howdy, I’m your surgeon, Brendan Sykes. I’m very glad you’re awake. We’ve been rather worried about you for the last few days. How do you feel?”

“About how I look- five pounds of crap in a three pound bag. Happy to be alive.”

“You are one tough hombre, my friend. When you came in, I told your wife it was maybe one in four or one in five that you would make it. Our entire crew is very glad you’re still with us.”

“I have a lot to live for,” I replied, nodding towards Mom.

“I think your wife willed you to stay with us. Except for a couple visits to the PICU to see your daughter, she hasn’t left your side since you came out of surgery. We got the word from on high early on that we’d better not tangle with her,” he added drily.

“From on high?”

“Seamus MacLeish is on the board of directors of the hospital. He’s the one who laid down the law. A formidable, man, Mr. MacLeish is. May I ask how you two know him?”

“I’m a partner in his firm, Dr. Sykes,” Mom replied.

“No kidding. That explains quite a lot, I guess.”

“About our daughter, Dr. Sykes…”

“Well, I’m not technically part of the pediatric trauma team, but I’ve been keeping an eye on things. I think it’s safe to say that there were a few encouraging signs in her latest labs, but I don’t want to speak definitively at this point. What I can do is have Dr. Krishnamurthi stop by to give you an update later this afternoon. He was her surgeon.”

“I need to see her, doc.”

“I understand,” Dr. Sykes commiserated, “But that’s just not possible right now. Believe me, if I was in your shoes, I’d be champing at the bit myself, but it’s just not safe yet. I’ve gotten you this far, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let all of that work go to waste. You know, while you were in surgery, your heart stopped – twice.”

Mom gasped as she heard this, clutching my hand in painfully tight grip; it was apparently news to her as well. Dr. Sykes turned to her and spoke apologetically. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry we didn’t tell you Mrs. Lewis. Under the circumstances, I felt that level of detail was not going to help you get through this. You were here for your husband, and that’s what is most important. I hope you understand that we also have an indirect responsibility for your well-being.”

Mom nodded, “I appreciate your concern for my feelings, Dr. Sykes, but from this point forward, I hope you let everyone know that both of us want to be fully in the loop,” she said firmly. “I’ve been through this once before, you know. I lost both of my parents in an accident some time ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine what the last four days have been like for you. We will definitely keep the lines of communication open. Now, let’s get down to what I came here for.”

Dr. Sykes pulled out his stethoscope and gave me a thorough going over. “Ah, very good – I can hear a few bowel sounds now. Perhaps we’ll start some clear liquids tomorrow. Your right lung sounds much better today also. We’ll check a chest x-ray in the morning. If there’s no evidence of residual lung collapse, we’ll get those tubes out of your side as well.”

Dana handed my chart to Dr. Sykes and he made some notes. “I’ll make sure the team taking care of little Emily knows that they are to keep you informed. I think it will help your stress level and hopefully let you worry less, which will be good for your recovery.”

Dr. Sykes again came back to the bedside and shook my good hand. “I’m so very pleased to see you on the mend, Mr. Lewis,” he said sincerely. “Let’s not do anything to jeopardize our progress. I promise, I will do everything in my power to get you in shape to see Emily at the earliest possible moment.”

Mom came to the side of the bed and gripped my good hand. “He’ll behave himself, Dr. Sykes – I’ll see to it.” She smiled, kissed me and then glared at me balefully. “Won’t you, Ricky?” she inquired with steel in her voice.

“God, you’re a hard woman. Yes, I’ll be good,” I capitulated.

Keeping her hand in my grip, I waited for the nurse and Dr. Sykes to depart. “You okay, Mom?” I whispered hoarsely.

“Now I am, son. I was so worried…” Her tears started afresh.

“Don’t cry, Mom. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere except home with you and Emmy. I promise. I promise.”

Just then, Mom’s Blackberry began chirping. Rummaging in her purse, she finally found it after several frantic seconds. Glancing at the screen, she said “It’s Marcia.”

“Go ahead and take it, Mom – it may be important.”

“Hi, Marsh. Yes. Yes…he’s awake. Everything’s fine. Yes, thank God. No, still no word on Emmy. We should know more tomorrow. Yes – I’ll talk to them now. Put it on speaker? I’ll do the same.”

I heard Marsh call Anna and Dee Dee to the phone. “Hey girls – want to talk with Daddy?”

There were sounds of a mad scramble in the background and then breathless voices, completing each other’s sentences. “Daddy! You woke up! Are you okay? Do you boo-boos still hurt? When are you coming home? We miss you!”

“Hi girls,” I croaked. “I’m doing good. Mommy’s here with me. She’s making sure I’m going to get all better. Guess what – if my doctor says it’s okay, you can see me tomorrow.”

“Goody! Hooray!” was the chorus. “Guess what Daddy – Fiona, Uncle Shawn and Auntie Marsh are taking us out for pizza! She says we can celebrate!”

“That’s great! Maybe you two can do me a favor – will you each eat a slice for me?”

“Of course, Daddy,” Dee Dee replied indignantly. “I’m going to have pepperoni and Anna’s going to eat a slice of sausage n’ shrooms.”

“That sounds fantastic. But, I was kind of hoping you’d have a slice of banana and tuna fish, or maybe peanut butter and tofu,” I teased.

“Daddy – you are sooo bad!” Anna scolded.

“You make sure you have a good time, both of you. Don’t give Auntie Marsh and Uncle Shawn a hard time, you hear?”

“Yes, Daddy. Auntie Marsh wants to talk to you some more. ‘bye.”

“Bye, girls. See you tomorrow.”

Marsh got back on the line. “Thank God you’re back with us, Rick. It’s so good to hear your voice. I don’t want to tire you out, but there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you both. I put on my queen bee hat day before yesterday and put the word out on my street. Someone will be by to check on you and Jen in a little while. She’s a member of our community, as it were. I don’t want to say anything more specific over the phone, but you’ll know her when you meet her. ‘Kay?”

“Thanks, so much Marsh,” Mom replied. We’ll wait for her. And thanks for looking after the munchkins – I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Anything for my skin sister, you know that Jen.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to tuck the girls in tonight, so I can say goodnight to them.”

“Will do. Bye.”

I was suddenly terribly tired. The simple phone call taxed me to my limits and I found myself slipping off to sleep. I vaguely remember mumbling my apologies to Mom and was then out like a light.

I woke some undetermined time later when someone came into my room. The lady I saw at the foot of my bed was dressed in freshly pressed black scrubs, impeccably clean and crisp. Her nametag read “Carrie Hamilton – Trauma Nursing Supervisor.” She was of medium height, with straight, glossy black, shoulder length hair, containing a few wisps of gray. Her bosomy figure was full and curvaceous, but not overtly plump. She appeared consummately professional, radiating an aura of calm competence. She strode up to Mom and introduced herself. “Hello, I’m the head of nursing here on the trauma unit. My name is Carrie. I’m so glad to see Rick is doing well. Our sons are entirely precious, aren’t they?”

Mom did a double take at her words, but then recovered. “Marcia told us to expect someone, but we didn’t know who.”

“When I heard about your situation on the Site, I got back to Marcia immediately. It’s always a pleasure to meet a member of our special club, even though I deplore how this has happened. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to my John. We both lit candles for the two of you at Mass yesterday.”

“That’s very kind of you, Carrie. It means a lot to both Rick and me that you’re willing to help us out right now.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”

Carrie cast an appraising eye over Mom and spoke briskly. “Jennifer, if I may be so bold, you look like hell. I want you to come with me. We’ll go over to the call room and get you a shower and I’ll scare up some scrubs for you. I took the liberty of coordinating with Marcia and someone will be by with some of your things later tonight.”

“Thank you so much, Carrie, I don’t know what to say, you’re being so kind to us.”

“It’s not a big deal, believe me. Now, one other thing: This is strictly off the books, as it were, but I’ve made arrangements for a cot. You can stay in the room if you’d like,” Carrie murmured, lowering her voice so no one else could hear.

Mom smiled and stepped up to Carrie and gave her a hug. “Thanks. I’m very much in your debt.”

“Nonsense. I won’t hear of it. Moms like us have to look out for one another. I’m sure you’d feel the same way if our positions were reversed.”

Turning to me, Carrie smiled warmly. “You rest up some more now, Rick. I’ll have your Mom back in a jiffy.”

“Thanks, Carrie. I think I’ll doze a little bit while you get Mom squared away.”

With that, Carrie escorted Mom out of the room and I closed my eyes. When I came around again, Mom was seated in her chair next to me, a small smile on her face. Her hair was slightly damp and her cheeks were rosy. She actually looked great in her borrowed, light green scrubs, nicely filling them out in all the right places. “You look much better, Mom.”

“Carrie is a lifesaver. I feel whole for the first time in days. Mostly though, it’s knowing you’re okay, Ricky. I have my wonderful son back.”

“I’m glad to be back, Mom. You know, those scrubs suit you. They’re very fetching.”

Mom got up and sat next to me on the edge of the bed, holding my hand. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Ricky! At death’s door for days, awake for less than 8 hours and you’re already ogling your Mom? I guess you really must be on the mend,” she said as she slapped my wrist.

“You know, I am going to need lots of TLC as I recover, Mom,” I replied slyly.

“Behave yourself, you bad boy! Keep your comments to yourself or I’ll give that catheter down there a jerk. That’ll settle your hash, but good.”

“Yes ma’am.”


At the risk of stating the obvious, being in the ICU is no fun. When you are deathly ill, you don’t notice a lot of what is going on around you, but when you recover enough to be awake, but not enough to be put on a regular floor, you really see how damn busy the place is. Nurses and aides, phlebotomists, radiology techs, doctors, residents and students are all constantly buzzing in and out of your room. Between the ceaseless interruptions and the never-ending background noise of EKG monitors, IV pumps and mechanical ventilators, you get very little rest. Getting your life saved is tiring. I also had a lot of time to think, which had its own downside.

I thought back to the day we brought newborn Emmy home from the hospital. From the very beginning, she had more personality than quite a few adults I knew. It seemed as though she knew her life began as a second chance and that it was essential to enjoy every minute of it. In contrast to Jason, who was so colicky as an infant that Mom and I felt like we needed antipsychotic medications to get from day to day, Emmy began sleeping through the night within three months. She walked a full 2 months sooner than our other children and we heard “mama” and “dada” when she was only five months old. At sixteen months, she brought tears to our eyes with her first sentence: “Lub you mama.” She had as sweet a disposition as I’ve ever encountered in a child and never had tantrums. Her older sisters loved her to pieces and Emmy gave back as good as she got. Her mere presence in a room was enough to elevate the mood of everyone there.

No parent ever wants to admit it, but we all have our favorite children, even though we unreservedly love every one of them. Emily Jeanne is our special child that way, seeming to express our best characteristics without our weaknesses, fully embodying the love Mom and I had for each other. And then she was nearly taken from us in the blink of an uncaring eye. As I sit here in the lanai, telling my story over 50 years later, my own life gnawed to a ragged stump by time, those memories still bring tears to my eyes. It is a most terrible thing to see your child’s life hang in the balance.

Seeing Deirdre, Anna and Jase for the first time since the accident did more to accelerate my recovery than any wonder drug. My kids needed me. Mom needed me. There wasn’t time to be sitting around feeling sorry for myself. After about another week, I left the ICU. Once on a regular floor, I started my rehab like a man possessed, pushing myself to the point where I was alarming even the most sadistic of my various and sundry therapists. About a week later, I was sent to a rehab facility for another 10 days. It was very difficult to accept that I could only walk about 20 feet with assistance at first, me who was used to going on a 10K run 3 or 4 times a week. I think I set some kind of record for getting out the door of rehab. I pushed myself to the limit every single day and I think they let me go simply so they wouldn’t be responsible for me crashing and burning while in their care. Whenever I thought I couldn’t do any more on a particular exercise or treatment, all I had to do was pull out a snapshot of my family and I then found a way to get things done.


On my second day out of the ICU, I had an unexpected guest. I had been resting after a physical therapy session when I heard a hushed commotion outside my door, followed by the somewhat breathless entry of my day shift nurse, Della. “Ohmygod, Mr. Lewis, You have Visitors,” she exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. “I had no idea…”

“Hello, sugar. How are y’all?”

The voice was instantly recognizable, a slow, melodious, molasses-sweet drawl, right off the bayou. The owner of the voice was an auburn-haired vision of mature pulchritude, probably the second-most beautiful woman I knew.

“Gina! What on earth are you doing here? I thought you and Paul were on tour.”

“That’s not important, sugar. What is important is friends and family. You, Jen, Marsh, Shawn and the kids are just about the only people who are close to Paul and me. How could we not come, once we heard from Marsh about what happened?”

“Where is Paul?”

“‘Uncle’ Paul is visiting with Jen and the kids right now and ‘Aunt’ Gina is gonna join him just as soon as I’m satisfied that the folks here are takin’ good care of y’all. We’ll be stayin’ with Jen for a short spell and helpin’ out Marsh. That poor girl has been runnin’ herself into the ground lookin’ after everything since the accident. Besides, as one of your business partners, I need to do my part to protect our investment,” she said, smiling as she sat next to my bed.

Turning more serious for a moment, she took my hand and kissed my cheek. “Praise the Lord you’re all right, Rick. When we heard about you and little Emmy, it was like gettin’ punched in the stomach. I just about died when I first heard the news. I feel much better now, seein’ for myself that you’re okay.”

Taking her hand, I gave it a long squeeze. “Thanks for coming by, Gina. Thanks for caring.”

“How could I do anything else, Rick? I swear Jen is my long-lost sister and you, you’re practically another son to me.”

“I should be so lucky, Gina,” I chuckled.

“Now you hush, you heah? Y’all are embarrassin’ me. Your momma is right, you are silver tongued devil, in more ways than one.”

It was my turn to blush. “You’re the second most beautiful woman I know, Gina,” I said sincerely.

“Thank you, sugar,” she said quietly. From y’all, that’s high praise, high praise indeed.”

Pressing a piece of paper into my palm, Gina said, “Here’s my number and Paul’s. Anything you need, sugar, anything, y’all just give us a call.”

“Thanks, Gina. Thanks very much. I’m in pretty good shape right now, so I don’t really need much, except to get out of this joint,” I replied.

Taking her hand back, I looked at her intently. “The only favor I have to ask for you to look in on Mom. I think she could use a little comfort and TLC right about now. Everything’s been very hard on her. I think she could use a hug or two.”

Gina blushed endearingly, taking my meaning. I always found it a bit amusing that even though Paul and I were perfectly cool with Mom and her being sometime lovers, they both still found it difficult to talk about.

“You’re good for each other, Gina. There’s no one I’d rather have around her right now,” I stated flatly and matter-of-factly.

Smiling hesitantly, Gina squeezed my hand back. “You’re a wonderful son, Rick, caring about your momma so much.”

“That I do, Gina. That’s why I’m counting on you to deliver my kisses to her, exactly the way I would.”

“Okay, big guy. I’ll see to your very sweet momma. You concentrate on getting better, heah?”

“I’m highly motivated, Ms. Broussard, highly motivated.”


Around a month into my recovery and a couple days before my discharge, I got a surprise. Mom, Jase, Dee Dee and Anna were coming to see me almost every day during visiting hours, but this time they came with an unexpected guest. When the family procession arrived at my room, it was led by Anna and Deirdre, pushing a wheelchair with Emily in it. Her legs stuck straight out from her casts and she looked terribly thin and little bit listless, but when she saw me, I got the smile I had been missing for many dark days. Mom picked her up and set her in my lap and it was all I could do to keep from breaking down completely. I gave her a gentle hug and kissed her forehead. “Howzit goin, punkin’?”

She hugged me and gave me a big grin. “I’m almost all betterer, now Daddy. The nice doctors said my leg boo-boos are fixed and guess what, I get my casts off tomorrow and you’ll never guess what else because it’s real neat and a big surprise,” she huffed, finally running out of breath.

“I can’t wait to hear, Emmy. Are you sure it’s okay to tell me? I wouldn’t want to get into any trouble, and you know how easy that is for me to do.”

She leaned into me and put her lips to my ear. “It’s prolly okay if I whisper so no one else can hear, Daddy. Are you ready?” she inquired seriously.

“I think so, but only if you’re really sure, punkin’”

“I’m going to come back on Friday and take you home, Daddy. Then I’ll help you get all better so we can go on walks and play in the cove like before the crash. I promise.”

I lost it for real at that point, but that was short lived after the big group hug I got. Emmy looked at me with concern and asked “Why are you and Mommy crying, Daddy? Did I say something wrong?”

“No you didn’t punkin’. Sometimes when grown ups are really, really happy, they cry. I know it’s sort of silly, but that’s what happens sometimes. Mommy and I are very, very happy right now. ” I held up my hand and crooked my little finger. “I promise I’ll be ready – pinky swear.”

Emmy hooked her finger with mine solemnly. “I pinky swear too, Daddy.”

On the way back to the Inn, I did nothing but sit in the back seat of our minivan, Mom on one side holding one hand, Emmy on the other, leaning up against me, my arm around her shoulder. I relished every moment of their closeness, serenaded by an unending litany from Dee Dee, Jason and Anna, describing everything that happened since the accident in minute, moment-by-moment detail. The weather outside was gray, clammy, wet and blustery, a leaden, overcast sky stretching from horizon to horizon as a winter storm gathered itself in from the Gulf of Alaska and prepared to inundate us.

It was an absolutely beautiful day.

When we arrived home around noon, Mom parked me in front of the fireplace and set the logs ablaze, settling in next to me, head on my shoulder. Her hand toyed idly with the hair at the nape of my neck, twining, untwining and stroking. One by one, Emmy, Jason, Anna and Deirdre made their way onto the couch with us, Emmy in my lap, Jason on Mom’s with the twins flanking both of us. The trip back must have taken more out of me than I thought, because I fell deeply asleep after about 5 minutes, feeling whole for the first time in many weeks.

“Daddy, wake up. Wake up Daddy, it’s dinnertime.”

“Mnnpphh. Hi Emmy. Sorry, I think I dozed off.”

Emily climbed carefully into my lap and called to the kitchen. “Daddy’s not sawing logs anymore, Mommy! Can we eat now?”

“Wait just a minute, young lady. It can’t be dinner time yet.”

“Why’s that, Daddy?”

“I distinctly remember that stuffed and roasted little girl with root vegetables was on the menu for tonight. You need to put an apple in your mouth and hop into the oven right this minute.”

“Daddy!” she exclaimed reproachfully. “Mommy – Daddy’s being bad again!”

I gathered her into my arms and mouthed her neck with a slobber. “Mmmmmm! I know you’ll be extraspecialdelicious and tender and I’m sooooo hungry. Maybe I’ll just have to settle for Emmy tartare, ’cause I don’ t think I can wait another minute!” I growled.

Emmy jumped off my lap and ran shrieking with laughter into the kitchen. A minute later, Mom appeared in the doorway, smiling gently. Emmy was peeking out from behind her legs, eyes wide, giggling. Mom walked slowly to the sofa, wiping her hands on her apron and sat next to me. Without warning, Jase appeared from behind the sofa and flung himself across my lap. Anna and Dee Dee appeared next, grabbing both of my arms. Laughing wickedly, Emmy produced an apple from behind her back and shoved it in my mouth.

“Turn on the big oven!” she shouted.

God, it was good to be home.

Getting home finally restored some semblance of order to my universe and my first sit down meal with our family was purely and simply wonderful. The children all practically waited on me hand and foot, to the point where I had to start teasing them. After Emmy opened my napkin for me, Anna poured me a glass of wine and then Deirdre and Jason served me from the bowls in the center of the table, I had to chuckle. Mom got her digs in as well, as always bringing me back to earth in her inimitable way.

“Don’t get used to any of this, hotshot. Part of your home rehab is going to be a very long ‘honey-do’ list. There’s a lot that hasn’t been taken care of around here for the last month and a half.”

I smiled my sweetest smile at her and wiggled my eyebrows, opening my mouth with an audible “tock,” doing my best impression of a fledgling in the nest. My exaggerated parody and cinematic reference were not lost on Mom.

“Ricky, this is not ‘A Clockwork Orange’ and you don’t look the least bit like Malcolm McDowell, so put a sock on it and feed yourself, you impossible man.”

“You better listen to Mom,” Deirdre warned seriously. “You’ll be in big trouble if you don’t clean up your act.”

“I guess you’re right, Dee Dee. If your Mom got mad at me, I’d hate to think what kind of punishment I might get.”

“Mommy, is Daddy too big to spank?” Emmy asked with a petulant smile.

“”Yes, sweetie. That’s just too much work for Mommy. Besides, I don’t think it would work anyway.”

“Uh, Mommy, do you want to borrow my baseball bat?” Jason asked.

“That’s very sweet of you, Jase, always trying to help Mommy out. You know keeping Daddy in line is a full time job. But no thanks, his head is too hard. I wouldn’t want to break the bat.”

I leaned across the table and gave Mom a big, wet kiss.

“I promise to be good, dear. I wouldn’t want the kids to have to see you beat me up. That would be traumatic.”

The reaction around the table to our kiss was the universal, near simultaneous chorus of “Ewwwwwwwww! Mush!”

“Okay, okay!” I conceded. “Your mother and I will save the mush for later,” I added, cocking an eyebrow as I looked at her. Once I was sure the kids were involved with their plates, I turned to Mom again with a smile, running my tongue over my lips. She blushed as I pursed my lips and whispered, “You’re being naughty again. Don’t make me get up and smack you, bad man.”

“Yes ma’am.”


The remainder of our meal was blissfully ordinary, as I caught up with the vicissitudes of preschool, first and third grades and then got the latest scoop on goings on at MacLeish, MacLeish and Dunsmuir. Mom’s meal was, as usual, delicious. We had Nana’s old Bolognese sauce over rigatoni and steamed vegetables and the munchkins had a rare non-weekend treat of ice cream for dessert.

Objectively, I know I am a better cook than Mom – after all, I’m an award-winning professional, but I would rather eat something cooked by her hand than anything from one of my menus or from any other restaurant, for that matter. There’s something elemental and universal about “Mom’s home cooking” and I’m no different than any other son in that regard, chef or not. In any event, I pushed myself away from the table, replete with pasta and rattled the dishes with a major league belch, to giggles all around the table.

“Ricky! Manners at the table!” Mom scolded.

“Sorry my sweet, but that was just so good, I made a pig of myself, I’m afraid. Your effort in the kitchen is very, very appreciated. I feel fully welcomed home now.”

Somewhat mollified, Mom smiled to soften her remarks. “I know you’re basically a lost cause, but just occasionally try to set a good example, okay?”

“All right kids, what should I say here?” I asked. “What is the correct way to handle this?”

The chorus from around the table was nearly instantaneous. “Rule number one – When in doubt, say ‘Yes Dear!” was the shouted reply.

Blowing Mom a kiss, I said softly, “Yes, my dearest. I love you too.”

After we cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, it was time to get Emmy ready for bed. Pure adrenaline and the happiness of having Daddy back had kept her going to that point, but she was still recuperating herself and fairly suddenly hit the wall, practically falling asleep on her feet after we cleaned up the remains of dinner.

We got Anna and Deirdre started on their homework and allowed Jason the special treat of extra Nintendo time. Gathering Emmy into my arms, I took her into her bedroom and tucked her in, Mom joining me as I sat at her bedside. The usual goodnight kisses were exchanged and Emmy was asleep in seconds. We sat together, holding hands as we watched our youngest sleep, a contented smile on her lips. Nothing needed to be said, because we both knew exactly what the other was thinking. We sat quietly with our daughter for at least a half hour, luxuriating in the sensations of the restoration of our family.

We had finally gotten the twins and Jason off to bed, a difficult task given how wired they were by Emmy’s and my return home. Many kisses and two good night stories for Jason were necessary before the brood was parked in cloud cuckoo land. I made the downstairs rounds, turning off lights and locking the doors while Mom went upstairs.

When I got to our bedroom, a treat awaited me. Mom had again dressed in the outfit she wore on our first night together, looking even better to my eyes than ever before. The increased heft, very slight sag of her wonderful breasts and increased size of her nipples only added to her appeal. As always, her magnificent thatch captured my eyes immediately, as full, luxuriously thick and bushy as I could remember. The desire and love reflected in her eyes was as strong as I could recall, rivaling what I remembered from our first time as lovers. Surprisingly, she seemed a bit nervous as I stood in our doorway, drinking in the sight of her with my hungry eyes.

“Ricky, I hope you don’t mind. I feel as though we’re beginning our lives again. For a while, I didn’t know if you were going to come home to us, she whispered,” a tear trickling down her cheek. “I just wanted things to be a little special. Also, if you’re too tired tonight, I understand. I’m just so happy to have you home again.”

I peeled off my shirt, closed the door behind me and strode to her quickly, taking her into my arms. Leaning my forehead onto hers, I felt my own eyes swimming a bit.

“I’m so happy to be home Mom, so happy I can’t put it in words how good it feels. And no, I’m not too tired. I have been looking forward to making love with you for weeks. I’ve been going crazy not being able to be with you, my goddess.”

I bent to kiss her, capturing her lips with an ecstatic sigh as our tongues found each other. We must have stood there and kissed for five minutes, immersing ourselves in our reunion, not even touching one another, simply holding hands and trying to convey all our thoughts and emotions through the one act. As we broke for air, Mom sighed and smiled.

“You haven’t forgotten how to kiss, son of mine. You still make my toes tingle.”

Running her hands up and down my arms and around my shoulders, she asked, “Are you sure you weren’t staying in practice in the hospital and at rehab? There were a lot of pretty young nurses and therapists flitting around you as I recall.”

“Now, Mom,” I teased back. “You know what happens at the hospital stays at the hospital. Anything that might have occurred was purely for therapeutic purposes, I’m sure.”

“You’re still my impossible brat. Now shut up and kiss me, lover.”

“Yes, momma dearest.”

Where our previous kiss was a tender reminder of our union and vows to each other, as Mom pulled me close, she made her declaration of passion and lust with the next, pulling me with her on to our marital bed, hands fumbling with my belt buckle and zipper as we laid beside each other. Once she opened me up, she sighed, hand seeking my cock gently, almost tentatively, stroking lightly.

I smiled and cupped her face with my hands, kissing her on both cheeks. “I’m all right Mom, truly. That’s probably the one part of me that wasn’t broken in the accident.”

Eyes filling with tears, Mom hugged me tightly, burying her face in my shoulder.

“I know, darling…it’s just…it was such a close call, nearly losing you. I thought I’d never hold you in my arms again,” she sobbed.

Hugging her close, I stroked her hair and back.

“Shhhhh. It’s okay, Mom. I’m here. I’ll always be here for my beautiful mother. My beautiful, gorgeous mother.”

My hands wandered down her back, gliding over her marvelous, firm ass.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy mom.”

Pulling her close, I kissed her, tongue seeking hers.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, mom, who makes me so hard,” I breathed.

I slid my hand down the crease between her cheeks, lightly scraping over her rosy pucker, continuing on to her slick folds.

“My sweet, sexy Mom, who I love to fuck so much.”

Mom groaned and buried her head in my shoulder as my fingers eased into her moistness, slightly bucking her hips against my touch.

“My wonderful loving mother, who has the tightest, wettest, best pussy in the whole world,” I murmured, laying her back on the bed.

Sliding her damp panties off her hips, I bent to take her in my mouth, licking her slowly and firmly from perineum to pearl, savoring her sweetness. When I moved up over her, she shifted her hips and parted her thighs with a sigh as I trailed my tongue up her abdomen, pausing at each nipple. Kissing her tenderly, I found her center and eased into her silky vise, each of us groaning as we connected. It felt as good as any time I could ever remember taking her, the amazing tightness and warmth as familiar and comforting as always, but at the same time, almost new again. I was almost as excited, as close to the edge as I was our very first time. It seemed as though if I moved one millimeter within her sheath, I would detonate like a thousand pounds of napalm, completely incinerating us both in my climax.

Mom seemed to be walking at the edge of the same cliff as me, her eyes screwed tightly shut, biting her lower lip as small beads of perspiration bloomed on her brow. I could feel her practically vibrating beneath me, her abdomen beginning to twitch and clench as she approached her point of no return.

I was good for no more than a half dozen strokes and then it all fell wonderfully apart, spraying myself into her, hands clutching her ass, head buried in her shoulder as I moaned out my spending. “Oh God! Mom! Mom! Ahhhh,” I cried.

As she felt the first of my ropes bathing her insides, Mom snapped her head back, cords straining under the taut skin of her neck, her legs completely hooked around my waist as she literally pulled herself up off the mattress to grind herself against me, calling out ecstatically as she bathed us in her creamy release.

“Oh God! Ricky! Yes! Yes! Mommy’s cumming! Yessssssssssss!” she cried, her last exhortation slowly fading to a sibilant whisper.

Collapsing against each other, we struggled to breath, feeling more as though we had run ten miles at a sprint, rather than coupling for a few short minutes. As we gradually reclaimed control of ourselves, I showered Mom with kisses; face, forehead, lips, chest, nipples, every square inch of skin I could reach without breaking my contact with her.

“My beautiful girl, my mother-love, my wife-mom” I murmured, nuzzling her cheek.

Toying with the hair at the nape of my neck, she whispered back, “Everything’s all right. Momma has her boy back now, back where he belongs, between her legs, loving her. Don’t ever leave me, Ricky. Always be with me, husband-son.”

“Back where I belong,” I affirmed quietly, “Back inside you, Mom, back in the sweetest pussy there ever was, back home.”

I began to notice that my first orgasm had done little to relieve my excitement. I was still stiff inside her and only getting harder as we reclaimed each other. I started to move again.

“That’s my boy,” Mom cooed. “My dear, sweet, hard-cocked son is fucking his momma again. Oh yes, Ricky, that’s so good. You feel so good in me, love. Don’t stop. Don’t stop loving me, son. Never stop,” she sighed.

“Never, Mom. Not ever. You’re all mine, all I’ll ever need. My sweet Mom,” I whispered gently.

I think we were both a little surprised by how quickly we came that first time, but it did have the advantage of taking the edge off of things and allowed us to lovingly prolong our subsequent joining. Neither of us were in a hurry at that point, simply wanting to savor and draw out our lovemaking for as long as possible, reestablishing our special connection, showing each other our appreciation of our second chance.

There was nothing particularly lustful or electrifying about how we kissed, caressed and coupled. For all the basic, uncomplicated things we did, those simple, sweet moments as we pleasured each other were as special as any time we had ever been together and remain among my fondest memories. It was truly a rebirth of sorts and helped us keep our life and our love in perspective for the rest of our days.

When we finished, Mom pulled me close, head on her breasts, stroking my hair. “Rest now, sweet boy,” she whispered. “Rest now. Stay here in my arms. Rest now, darling.”

I was asleep in moments, Mom’s loving words cushioning my fall as I plummeted into soft darkness.

I was home.


When I woke up, Mom was on her side, her head propped on her hand and elbow, smiling softly. She leaned over and gave me a gentle, lingering kiss. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

“The best, Mom,” I grinned. “Everything’s right with the world when I’m with you.”

“You say the sweetest things to your mom.”

“Well, it’s true,” I replied seriously. “I’m double lucky – lucky to be alive, lucky to have such a loving mom. I’m never going to forget that.”

Bringing us back to earth, Mom said, “I had a long conversation earlier this week with Dr. Sykes. He says that knowing you, you’re going to try and hit the ground running now and that will only serve to make you crash and burn, because you still have a lot of healing to do. You may not feel it, but you’re still pretty weak.”

“I seemed to have enough energy last night, sweet lady.”

“Don’t go confusing the issue, you bad boy. Just in case you didn’t notice, you slept over twelve hours since we did the nasty.”

“That long?”

“That long. Here’s the deal – this week, you can spend an hour and a half each morning at the kitchen. That will be enough time to make important decisions about the menu and ordering supplies, but that’s it. If I hear you’ve been in front of a hot stove, I’m going to take a belt to your cute ass. In the afternoon, you can take a walk with the kids for twenty or thirty minutes. Next week, we’ll add an hour to your kitchen time and another fifteen or twenty minutes to the walks. Week three, you can start doing a half day at the restaurant, provided you’re only spending an hour or so actually cooking. You can walk as much as you want with the kids then. Week four, you’re going back to Vancouver for a follow up visit with Dr. Sykes. He’ll decide then if you can get back to things full time.”

Mom kissed me gently then and looked at me intently. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, Ricky. I’m not going to have you screw up your recovery by overdoing things. My spies are everywhere. If you push it, I’ll have to conclude that you’re going to need extra rest. That’ll mean no momma-nookie for you.”

“Mom!” I protested.

“Do I have your attention now, my wayward son?”

Grumbling and sighing, I conceded defeat. “That’s unprincipled, low down, underhanded, dirty blackmail…but, yes ma’am.”

Smiling she gave me another hug and kiss to take the sting out. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, it’s time to get our lives back to normal. Let’s get some brunch and then I’m going to my study to get some work done. The Jason and the twins will be back from classes at 3:30. You can take your first walk then.”

“Oh, one more thing, Ricky.”


“I love you very much, husband-son.”


Under Mom’s watchful eye, I slowly progressed. Dr. Sykes was right about my stamina. After my short stint in the kitchen and a walk to the cove with the little ‘uns, I was whacked. I dragged myself through dinner and getting the kids squared away for bed and then trudged upstairs. In the back of my mind, and in the thoughts of my little head, I was looking forward to making love again with Mom. After all, we had a LOT of catching up to do.

I fell asleep in my clothes on top of the bed.

Mom took my shoes and socks off while I was asleep and covered me with the comforter. I slept until 10 am the next day. So much for youthful stamina.

Mom had gotten up early to go into Vancouver for a big meeting at her practice, leaving me alone for the day with Emmy while Jason, Deirdre and Anna were at school. I felt a little bit at loose ends, a slightly jangled mental itch of unremembered, unfinished business. I had been so focused on getting well, getting out of the hospital and being with my family that I had spent little, if any time thinking about the accident. Dr. Sykes had warned us that the process of working through the trauma might take some strange twists and turns, but so far life had seemed pretty normal, except for the occasional nightmare. I had those with some frequency while I was in rehab and it was tough to wake up alone in a strange place when they hit, but since my arrival home, I’d been doing pretty well. Mostly, my main problem was a mental itch I just couldn’t seem to scratch.

I finally figured out that what I needed to do was to say my goodbye to Alain. Having missed his funeral and memorial service, it was gnawing a hole in my conscience, which I felt all the more acutely because of my previous experience when Gramps and Nana passed. I gave Mom a call and arranged to meet her at the cemetery in Victoria where Alain was buried. I coordinated with the front desk of the Inn to have someone drive us there, with Mom to bring us back. I hated my driving restrictions, but had to admit I probably was not up to doing the trip myself.

Surprisingly, when I got Emmy ready to go across the courtyard to stay with Marsh and Shawn, she objected strenuously. “I want to stay with you, Daddy! Please let me come with you, please!”

What’s a dad to do? I spend most of my waking hours outside of the kitchen with the kids and I was loathe to spend any time away from Emmy, but I wasn’t sure about going to the cemetery with our four year old. I made another consultation by phone with Mom and we agreed that Emmy could come along.

I remember very clearly standing at the graveside, scrunched under a too-small umbrella, Mom and Emmy flanking me as a heavy rain sluiced off the edges of our covering, splashing down to dampen our feet and ankles.

My melancholy was evident even to Emmy, who squeezed my hand as I contemplated the headstone. Emmy then profoundly surprised us both when she spoke.

“It’s okay daddy, don’t be sad. Uncle Alain is very happy now. He doesn’t want you to cry.”

“How do you know this, Emmy?” Mom asked.

“Uncle Alain kept me company when the bad thing happened and we got hurt.”

Kneeling down carefully next to her, I looked into Emmy’s eyes.

“Can you tell me about it, punkin’?” I asked gently.

“When the car crashed, I went to sleep. I woke up in a nice park with squirrels and birds and stuff. Uncle Alain was there with me, ‘cept he looked way different. He looked a little like you, Daddy, you know, not old or fat or bald, but I knew he was still Uncle Alain too.”

Pausing for a breath, Emmy went on. “Uncle Alain told me that he was going to stay with me for a bit before he had to go. He said he was waiting for somebody and then I would have to go back to be with you and Mommy, ’cause you needed me.”

“We sat on a bench and watched the squirrels and birds and had a good time. Uncle Alain told me lots of silly jokes and made me laugh a bunch. After a while a really nice lady with long black hair came up to us. She was really pretty Mommy, almost as pretty as you. Uncle Alain jumped up and hugged her for a long time and they kissed real mushy, just like you and Daddy do, ‘cept they cried some too. She kept on saying somethin’ like ‘juh temm, mon feece, juh temm’.”

“After a while, the nice lady sat next to me and said that she was Alain’s Mommy and that he was going to stay with her, because he had missed her so much, but I had to go back to you and Daddy so you wouldn’t miss me like Uncle Alain missed her. She told me I would have lots of boo-boos to fix and it would hurt a lot, so I had to be real brave. She said she knew I was going to be a good, big girl and in the end, everything would be okay and you and Daddy would be very happy, so I came back.”

“That’s why Uncle Alain wants you to be happy, Daddy, ’cause he’s happy now too, being with his Mommy.”

Mom and I stared at each other in wonderment, hardly able to comprehend what our daughter had just revealed to us. The calm, matter-of-fact way in which Emmy related the events, as though she was relaying a description of a trip to the corner store, left us breathless with surprise. I suddenly had so many questions running through my head that I could hardly sort my thoughts out. As Mom and I looked at each other, a silent understanding seeming to pass between us as we tried to come to grips with what had just happened. In the end, we said nothing, simply taking Emmy in hand and walking back to Mom’s car without a word.

The trip home was quiet, both of us left alone with our thoughts as we made our way back though the wind and rain, the only sound the squeaky metronome of the windshield wipers, as we made our way back to the Inn.

Our lovemaking that evening was exquisitely drawn out and silently intense, neither of us speaking, trying to convey all of our thoughts and emotions through touch and gesture alone as we strove to prolong our coupling together as long as we could. Each of us seemed intent on giving the other as much pleasure as was possible, with many pauses in our rhythm as we kissed, caressed and simply held each other, profoundly affected by our visit to the cemetery.

Later, as we lay spent in each other’s arms, I whispered, “My beautiful mother-love” and Mom replied, “My wonderful son.”

We fell quickly asleep, not stirring until late the next morning. As it was Saturday, we planned an afternoon walk together with the kids after I spent my rationed time in the kitchen.

We got up and fed the kids some of Marsh’s homemade granola with fruit and while Mom got the coffee ready, I quickly whipped up an omelet for the two of us. Done in short order, we pushed our plates to the center of the table and both sighed contentedly.

Reaching across the table, Mom squeezed my hand and smiled.

“How are you feeling today, Ricky?”

“Damn fine. I’m alive, back home with the woman of my dreams and our wonderful kids. Life is good.”

“That it is, darling, that it is. Do you think you have the energy for a picnic this afternoon? Emmy wants to take you to the cove.”

“A hot date with a couple of my favorite girls? You bet. What should I fix?”

“Nothing, Ricky. Get over to the Inn and make sure they’re set for the evening meal and I’ll put something together. The kids are playing Mousetrap and will be occupied for at least an hour. We’ll head out when you get back.”

“As my lady commands,” I acknowledged, heading to the door. Grabbing a gore tex shell, I headed out into the omnipresent drizzle and across the compound to my tasks. The walk across the compound was not very fun. I had acquired my own personal barometer after the accident. Cold, wet weather had a way of making me ache that never seemed to go completely away. To this day, I pick up a little limp and twinge when the cool and damp comes along.

By the time I returned, the weather had improved somewhat, the rain replaced by an enveloping, damp fog. My aches and pains had faded a bit, so I knew that the weather was likely to turn for the better soon. The fog was quite thick and cocooned us in near-complete silence as we made our way down the well-worn trail to the coast.

When we reached the junction of the trail to our cove, we paused, taking in the faint break of waves on the rocky shore and the slow drip of moisture off the evergreen branches that canopied the path. A breeze was stirring, slowly driving the wisps and tendrils of fog away from us.

Anna spoke up, asking, “Daddy, is it okay if we go around the point today? There’s a little beach there we haven’t been to before.”

“That’s okay by me, if mommy has no objections,” I said, turning to Mom.

“I’m really not dressed for rock-hopping, honey. Besides, one of us has to carry the basket also,” she said.

Glancing at my watch, I came to a decision. “It’s also coming up on high tide. I don’t think that’s going to work, but tell you what, Anna – lets just cut across on top and see if we can find a way down once we get to the other side.”

Fortuitously, we were able to find an old deer track that took us almost exactly where we wanted to be. After a brief reconnaissance, we found a safe path down to the beach. The fog was thick down by the water, with visibility reduced to no more than twenty or thirty yards, but the rocky shoreline was chockablock with all manner of interesting driftwood and there were tide pools galore for the kids to poke in. The beach was bathed with just a bit of surf, gentled by a shore break of larger rocks about a hundred yards off, so we let the kids run loose. Mom and I found a large log to sit on and sat watching the kids play.

Gradually, the breeze picked up, with a few fitful gusts that blew our hair into disarray. I sat with my head on Mom’s shoulder, slightly winded from our little trek and closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off, because I was awakened with a start by the screeching of gulls directly overhead. The fog had broken up and the sun was now making a most welcome appearance, just warm enough to counteract the stiffening breeze. As I awoke, Mom kissed my cheek and opened the basket, handing me a sandwich and a Labatt’s Blue.

It hit me suddenly, giving me enough of a jolt that I nearly dropped my beer.

Mom looked at me with immediate concern, asking, “Are you okay Ricky? Did you overdo it?”

Shivering slightly, I replied, “No, Mom. I’m fine. It’s just…well, I don’t know how to say it, but…this place…it’s my dream beach, Mom. For sure, absolutely for sure.”

Snuggling up next to me, Mom squeezed my hand tightly and kissed me passionately.

“My God, Ricky, My God. That’s unbelievable. How on earth…?”

“I don’t know, Mom. Life is just amazing and scary sometimes, isn’t it? Remember our first night together? I memorized that quotation from Euripides. I think that old Greek dude was right.”

“Not that I ever had any concerns about us, son of mine, but after this, if I had any doubts, they’d be gone as of this minute, blown to dust.”

Trembling slightly, she pressed close to me, gently rubbing my thigh, scratching her fingernails lightly on the fabric of my jeans.

“The love of my life,” she whispered to herself.

“What’s that, Mom?”

“The love of my life,” she said firmly and clearly, taking my head in her hands and kissing my lips firmly, as though putting a stamp on me.

Releasing me from her declaration of ownership, she smiled radiantly and then laughed, tossing her head back to move her hair from her eyes.

“Momma’s going to fix you raw oysters for dinner tonight,” she giggled.

“I’m getting hungry already, pretty girl.”

“Two dozen should do the trick, I think.”

“Two dozen? Jesus, Mom what would Dr. Sykes say?”

“Dr. Sykes be damned,” she said curtly. “Tonight Mom is going to love her son for as long as he can stand it.”

“I’m ready to accept my fate, momma-love. If ya gotta go, then what better way?”

“I’m only going to fuck you within and inch of you life, my son-lover, and no farther,” she whispered lustily. “Don’t worry. Mommy’s always going to take care of you.”



We had established a new tradition when Emmy turned six years old. When we folded Uncle Paulie and Auntie Gina into our extended family, we came to find out that Gina and Emmy’s birthdays were only two days apart. It became a regular occurrence for our youngest to celebrate her birthday with her favorite aunt, an event she never missed, arranging her and Paul’s schedule so that she was close at hand, even if touring. They both became regular visitors, initially dividing their down time evenly between Nashville and the Inn, eventually spending most of it with us, after Paul built an addition on their bungalow for a small recording studio. It became a rare treat and privilege to watch them work together as new songs and albums came together.

It was against this backdrop that we celebrated another pair of birthdays when Emmy turned nine. I had done my usual duties in the kitchen, making Emmy’s best-loved food – a wood-fired pepperoni pizza and Gina’s favorite as well, my Pacific Northwestern take on Bouillabaisse with crusty fresh baked bread from the Inn’s kitchen. As we pushed ourselves back from the table, savoring the last of our wine, Emmy got up and took her favorite seat in my lap, arms around my neck.

“You make the best pizza in the whole world, Daddy,” she burped contentedly. “I think I’m gonna ‘splode.”

“Well, be careful, punkin,” I cautioned, bussing the top of her head. “I don’t know if I have the strength for that big of a cleanup. There’s already a boatload of dishes waiting to be cleaned in the kitchen.”

“I’ll try,” she replied seriously. “Could I stay on your lap? I think that’s safest.”

“As long as you like, sweetbread.”

Gina smiled as I enfolded our youngest in my arms. “Rick, honey, that was simply scrumptious. Y’all did some serious damage to my waistline with that meal. It was the perfect way to end three months on the road.”

“Amen to that,” Paul echoed.

“What are your plans now?” Mom inquired.

“Well, sugar, we thought we would set here for a spell. Besides, don’t y’all have an anniversary coming up in about a week?”

“It’s true,” I affirmed. ‘Will you be able to stay?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Rick. I think we should get together and kick out the jambs a little bit, don’t y’all think?”

“That would be great, Gina. Have anything particular in mind?”

“I got me a few ideas, sugar,” she grinned, casting a sidelong glance at Mom. “But first, I think me and Jen have to have a little hen party to discuss the details. I’ve already bounced a couple notions off her.”

Turning to Mom, I arched an eyebrow in silent query. Smiling mischievously, she said, “You just sit back and leave this to me and Aunt Gina, Ricky.”

“Oh God,” I muttered theatrically. “It’s a female conspiracy.”

“Best stay out of the way of that particular freight train,” Paul advised with a wry grin. “When those two get going on a project, you should just duck and cover,” he concluded, mixing his metaphors.

“All y’all boys have to do is stay out of our way and everything will be just peachy,” Gina replied silkily. “Speakin’ of which, why don’t y’all make your handsome selves scarce for a bit and do some cleanin’ up? Little Em can sit with her Aunt Gina while you two are busy.”

Paul grinned as he stood. “I b’lieve we done been dismissed, Rick.”

“Gotta do what the bosses say,” I agreed, as we headed to the kitchen.

At one point later, we heard Mom exclaim “Ohmygod, Gina! For real?”

Standing in the doorway, I called out to the dining room, “What’s up, ladies?”

Grinning evilly, Mom answered quickly, “Nothing, sweetheart.”

“Nothing, my … uh, left foot,” I shot back.

Gina immediately weighed in as well, replying, “Rick, y’all are my second favorite man in the whole wide world, but y’all need to butt out and M.Y.O.B. now, heah?”

Paul put his arm around my shoulder, drawing me back into the kitchen.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Rick. That pair has the bit between their teeth now, I can tell. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Guess you’re right, bro. I sure would like to know what they have up their sleeves, though.”

“We’ll know soon enough. Let’s finish up here. I’ve written a new lullaby that I promised Emmy I would play for her – a special present just for her.”

The next morning all we settled into our daily routines and I lost track of Mom and Gina’s machinations. Paul settled into the studio to work on several new songs and the ladies spent an inordinate amount of time in Mom’s office. A couple of times, I also saw them talking with kitchen staff at the Inn, quickly leaving when they saw me approaching. Clearly, the “female conspiracy” was becoming an extensive and far-reaching endeavor.

On the day before our anniversary, Mom sent Paul and I on multiple errands, which I was sure were all manufactured to get us out of the house. When we returned to the Inn a half-day later, nothing seemed amiss, except for the smug glances our beautiful mothers kept exchanging with one another. Later that evening, after Mom and I made love, I attempted to sweet talk some information out of her. She wasn’t having any of that, laughing as she extricated herself from my interrogating embrace, simply saying, “All in due course, my nosy boy, all in due course. You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“But Mom, I need to know now,” I wheedled.

“No way, Ricky.”

“Not even a hint?” I cajoled.

“Long overdue payback,” she said enigmatically.

“Oh God, I surely don’t like the sound of that,” I groaned.

With that, Mom gave me a quick peck and rolled over, presenting her back to me in dismissal. “Sweet dreams, sweet man,” she chuckled.

The next morning came at least a couple of hours too early, Mom delightfully kissing me awake at 7 am.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” she murmured softly, stroking my cheek gently.

I responded with the best kiss I could muster. “Happy anniversary, Mom. And happy Mother’s Day. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweet son,” she sighed.

Reaching up to undo the bodice on her nightgown, I sought her breasts, only to have my hands gently pushed away.

Smiling apologetically, Mom took my wrists and pulled me up to a sitting position. “There’s time for that later, big boy. Right now you need to get your lazy, cute butt out of bed and make us some coffee. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Grumbling, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt and stumbled my way to the kitchen. I was surprised to find Gina there, the coffee already made. Slowly sipping the brew, she peered over the rim the mug at me, looking inordinately pleased with herself.

“It’s about time, sugar,” she drawled. “Y’all better get a shower. We’re outta here in fifteen minutes.”

“Good God, Gina. Do you know what time it is?”

“Indeed I do. It’s nearly time to get going,” she said cheerily.

Filling our mugs, I grumped my way back out of the kitchen and upstairs.

“Bah. Women!”

“Ah heard that, Ricky,” Gina admonished me. “Y’all get yourself together. There’s a lot to do today.”

Mom was already rousting the kids from their blankets; they were just as bewildered as I was by our early rising. Gently quelling their questions, she rounded them up and down to the kitchen, where Gina fed them. I hopped in the shower quickly and shaved. When I got out, Mom was dressed and waiting. Taking me by the hand, she led me downstairs. By the miracle of logistics that only mothers seem capable of accomplishing, the kitchen was empty and the dishwasher loaded and running. Mom pulled me along in her wake and out the front door, where the Inn’s van was waiting.

Propelling me inside, she gently short circuited my questions with a finger on my lips, saying “Just a little longer, okay, Ricky?”

Rolling with the program, I said nothing as the van made its way into Victoria. By the time we arrived at the general aviation terminal at the airport, I was bursting with questions.

Gina took one of my arms and Mom the other, leading me to a cavernous hangar. Inside was a gleaming white Gulfstream, door open, with a small rolling gangway pulled up next to it.

I stopped dead in my tracks, absolutely stunned. Turning to Mom, I worked my mouth like a beached salmon, unable to manufacture any words. Eventually, I stuttered out a semi coherent question. “Uh…Gina, what, um…what’s happening here? Where are you taking us? What about the Inn?”

Squeezing my arm reassuringly, Mom spoke. “The Inn’s taken care of, Ricky. It practically runs itself these days anyway. Marsh and Shawn will keep an eye on things and the kitchen is in good hands with Barry and Lisa. Just relax, okay?”

“So where are we headed?”

“Rick, why don’t y’all and Jen get the kids settled and then we’ll get going.”

I turned to Mom and then Gina, still in a state of shock.

“My God, what is all this? Where are we going? I can’t imagine how much this cost!”

Gina came up to me and slipped her arm through mine, gently guiding me towards the gleaming jet.

“Relax and enjoy, sugar. Your momma wanted to do something special for your anniversary and we were in a position to help. You let ‘Aunt Gina’ worry about the details. Paulie and I are long overdue for a vacation as well, so just consider yourselves to be hitchin’ a ride with your friends, sweet pea.”

Paul caught my eye and nodded his agreement, saying, “It’s already paid for, Rick. This is a fractional lease deal. We’ve still got about 20 hours of flying time in the bank and the contract renews in just 3 weeks, so we’ve gotta use it or lose it anyhow.”

More seriously, he added, “Y’all are the closest thing we’ve got to family, so we’d take it as a favor from y’all if you’d let us do this little somethin’, okay?”

Trying to concede defeat as gracefully as possible, I nodded as we reached the gangway. Gina disengaged herself and Mom took her place, sliding her arm around my waist as we climbed the stairway.

Leaning over to whisper in her ear, I murmured, “Love you, Mom. Thanks.”

Grinning, she bussed my cheek tenderly, whispering back, “Stick with me, my son. Momma knows how to spoil her boy toy, eh?”

“That’s a fact, ma’am, that’s a fact.”

The interior of the Gulfstream was elegant to the nines, with eight luxurious, swiveling seats, a small dining nook and a couple of leather-clad sofas which looked comfortable enough to sleep in. There was exotic wood paneling everywhere and all of the carpeting and fabrics were nothing less than sumptuous.

“My God, Gina, it’s incredible!” Mom exclaimed.

“When you’re on the road over two hundred days a year, you’ve got to do what you can to bring your home with you,” Gina explained. “We use the bus whenever we can, but often it’s not practical for some legs of any given tour. So, we do this.”

Pulling us both close, she directed our attention to the back of the cabin, whispering, “There’s a small bedroom back there, if y’all want to take a “nap” durin’ the flight.”

Mom flushed and shivered slightly, scolding, “Gina! You’re almost as bad as Ricky!”

We let the kids run riot through the cabin for a few minutes, allowing them to thoroughly bounce-check the seating arrangements and then got everyone settled in for departure. Mom and I took the last two seats before the “bedroom,” holding hands across the aisle as we taxied to the runway.

Getting airborne was nothing like the experience of a commercial airliner. The acceleration was more fighter jet than 737, with the transition to wheels-up occurring in a ridiculously short period of time. We rocketed up at an impossibly steep angle, to the delight of the children, Anna and Dee Dee laughing giddily and Jason whooping like an Indian. Even little Emmy enjoyed the ride, squealing in excitement as we zoomed upwards. In a little more than ten minutes, we reached our cruising altitude and leveled off, heading southwest, with the Washington coast below us on the left and the wide, blue expanse of the North Pacific to our right.

As we settled in, I turned to Mom, the main question plain on my face. She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached across to me, putting her finger on my lips.

“All in good time, Ricky. Be patient, please,” she entreated me.

Standing, she made her way to the front of the cabin and spoke quietly to Gina. As she made her way back to our seats, she appeared to be blushing slightly. Paul swiveled in his chair, looking at me with a grin on his face as Mom knelt to speak with the kids, “Mommy and Daddy are very tired, so we’re going to take a little nap and rest up for a while. Would you guys like to watch Harry Potter with Auntie Gina and Uncle Paul?”

Of course the answer to that question was a resounding “Yaaay!”, so Paul and Gina set about getting the DVDs ready to roll. Mom reached my seat and drew me up to my feet, a purposeful gleam in her eyes.

Pulling me into the sleeping chamber, she asked, “Do you remember our first flight to Vancouver, Ricky?”

“I sure do, Mom,” I affirmed.

“Remember teasing me about joining the mile high club?” she whispered wickedly. “Well, we’re going to cross that off our sexual bucket list right now, hotshot. Are you ready to get that big dick of yours inside Mommy?”

“Any time, any place, any hole, my beautiful mom-slut,” I murmured back.

My cock was already hardening at the thought, reaching its own cruising altitude even faster than the G Five. Mom had the door closed and locked and was in my arms, her tongue devouring me in a flash. Her hands cupped my ass, drawing me close as she ground her crotch against me, her sundress riding up over her hips. Tongues dancing in my favorite waltz, my own hands found her sweet cheeks, pulling her even tighter. Slipping my hands inside her panties, I kneaded her ass cheeks, pulling them apart as I slowly slid a probing finger towards her anus. When I scraped my fingertip across her tight pucker, she moaned into my mouth, breaking our kiss.

Dropping to my knees, I hooked my fingers at her hips and quickly drew her boyshorts down past her knees and to the floor. I was immediately overwhelmed by her scent, dipping my head to her crotch. Wasting no time, my tongue found her drooling opening and with no fanfare, I rooted in as deeply as I could, as quickly and forcefully as possible. Arching her back and thrusting herself forward onto my mouth, Mom groaned, anchoring her fingers in my hair.

“Ohhh, yesssss, baby, that’s it,” she hissed. “Lick your momma. Lick my pussy, Ricky. Oh yes, that’s so good, baby!”

Slowly and deliberately, I worked my way back out to her fleshy lips, sliding back and forth, up and down, pausing occasionally to again bury my tongue as deeply as I could back into her moist center. Gradually, I teased her little pearl out from its fleshy protection, lavishing attention on the sensitive nubbin as it peeked out of hiding. As I teased her clit, Mom grabbed my hair more firmly, rocking her pelvis against my eager lips, sighing in pleasure.

“Oh, yeah, Ricky. So good, baby, yes that’s it. Yes, more, baby. Momma loves it when you suck on her clit. Oooh, yeah.”

By now, Mom was thrusting herself quickly against my face, her hands circling to the back of my head, pulling me in so tightly I could barely breath. I could tell she was close. Slowly, I eased two fingers into her weeping passage, applying firm pressure as I sought out her sweet spot. Mom increased her rocking motion, groaning as she raced towards her peak.

“Ahhh, God, you’re so good baby, that’s so good, honey. Oh yesssss…”

When my fingers found the familiar little area and I applied pressure, she went over the edge, arching her pelvis and locking her thighs as she spasmed in ecstasy.

“Ahhh! Ahhhh! Coming baby! Momma’s coming! Coming!” she moaned, eyes tightly shut, her throat constricted in pleasure. As she descended from her personal Olympus, I slowly eased her back onto the adjacent bed, crawling up to her side, raining kisses on her face.

Opening her eyes, she smiled and kissed me passionately, brushing my hair off my face.

“Mmmmm, that was wonderful, sweetheart. You lick a mean pussy, young man,” she sighed contentedly.

“Now that’s what I call an in-flight meal, Mom. You always taste delicious, sweet lady.”

Running her hand over the bulge in the front of my jeans, she smiled lasciviously. Deftly unbuckling my belt, she popped the buttons on my fly with expert quickness and reached under the waistband of my briefs to grasp my shaft, stroking gently, but insistently. As she ran her thumb over the top of my glans, I shuddered.

“Mmmm, momma’s son got all hard eating her hot cunt, didn’t he? We’ll need to do something about that, you poor boy,” she cooed. “Let your mom take care of you, sweetie,” she breathed, taking me into her mouth.

Staring me straight in the face, the skin around her eyes crinkled and I knew if she didn’t have a mouthful of dick, she’d be smiling happily. I gave myself over to her motherly ministrations as she worshipped my pillar. Raining kisses up and down my shaft, she licked me from base to crown, pausing to run her tongue over my head, flicking lightly and then licking sensuously, like an ice cream cone, all the time cupping my balls and lightly stroking my taint. Knowing exactly which of my buttons to push and just when, she quickly had me clawing the sheets as she coaxed my fleshy little volcano towards eruption.

In short order, she had me right on the edge of the precipice and as I tensed, she again locked eyes with me and gave me The Look.

Although we didn’t speak a word (not counting my moans of exquisite pleasure), when she cast her gaze on me, her unspoken message was clear as a hundred mile view from a mountain peak. I knew exactly what she was thinking as she spurred me to fill her waiting mouth.

If she could’ve spoken at that moment, she’d have said, “Yes Ricky, I’m your Mom and I’m sucking your cock. Your cock belongs to me and only me. Only my lips touch it. Only my pussy surrounds it. I love your dick and how it feels on my tongue. Nothing tastes better than my son’s sperm. Your Mom loves you and wants you to come in her mouth, baby. Give Momma your come and she’ll swallow all of it, because she loves you. She’ll always love you and will always love eating your come, so give it all to her, bad boy.”

As my sac contracted and my cock pulsed out its essence, Mom’s eyes remained on me as she held my glans in her mouth, swirling her tongue and swallowing as I gave myself up to her. She didn’t stop until every drop was gone and the slightest touch of her tongue on my sensitive head was almost too pleasurable to bear.

Running my fingers through her tresses, I gently pulled her up for kiss, mingling our tastes with each other.

“My God,” I croaked.

“You liked?” she whispered with a grin.

“My God, Mom. Nobody sucks dick like a mother can. You give the best head in the universe.”

“Glad you liked it, lover boy. A good mom always looks out for her son’s needs.”

“I’m definitely well-looked after, you gorgeous woman. Nothing says ‘I love my son’ like a great blow job,” I murmured, drawing her under my arm, toying with her hair.

“At the risk of wearing it out, I love you Mom. I love you very much.”

“No more than I love you, sweet son. You make me ridiculously happy, you know.”

“It’s nothing less than the sexiest woman on the planet deserves.”

“Mmmm. still a sweet-talking rascal, aren’t you?”

We lay quietly for a while, touching lightly and kissing slowly, finding ourselves immersed in the hour that stretches.

Before long, Mom’s caresses gradually centered again on my cock as she gently coaxed me back to life. As I regained full hardness, Mom slid down to my waist and took me into her mouth again.

“Mmmm. Yum-yum-yum,” she giggled. “My boy has such a tasty penis. I never seem to get enough of it. I wonder why that is?” she mused.

“Comes with the territory of being a cum slut, I guess,” I teased.

“Is that any way to speak to you sainted mother?” she scolded.

“Sainted? Well, I suppose. For my part, you should be canonized for your cock sucking, Mom. Yeah, definitely – Saint Jennifer of the Fellating Mouth.”

“Well,” she laughed, somewhat mollified. “I guess that’s as close as I’ll come to getting an apology. Anyway, now that you’re good and hard again, we should do something nice with that slab of meat.”

“What’s your pleasure, pretty lady?”

Throwing her leg over my hips, she settled herself onto my pelvis, rubbing her slit up and down my hardness, coating me with her nectar. Kissing me passionately, she cocked her pelvis just so, sliding me home.

“Be inside me, my sweet boy. Be inside you momma and love her. Show me how you love me,” she said tenderly.

Groaning as I became fully buried in her slick tightness, I kissed her back, enfolding her in my arms as we began to move together.

“Like this, Mom? Like this?”

“Oh yes, baby, just like that. You fill me so nicely. Just like that. Yesss. Wonderful,” she murmured. “You fit inside me perfectly, lover.”

Voice thick with emotion, I answered, “It’s perfect because I was made for you, Mom, only for you. You’re my love, Mom, my only love.”

“Mmmm. My sweet boy,” she husked, kissing me back.

After that, there were no more words as Mom rode me, our dialogue consisting solely of touch, caress and embrace. As she worked herself on my shaft, she would rise slowly to the apex of her movement, leaving only the head of my cock lodged within her clasping walls and then drop her full weight back onto my hips, grinding and rotating her hips as she stimulated her clit.

Gradually, her motions became quicker, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she ground herself onto my pubic bone, quicker and quicker as she began to peak. Suddenly, her thighs spasmed and she threw her head back, fingernails scrabbling on my chest as she gave a small plaintive cry, like a wounded animal. Just as quickly, she collapsed forward on to my chest, drawing great, sobbing breaths, twitching randomly as her climax dwindled.

Eventually catching her breath, she rasped, “You should be ashamed of yourself, Ricky, driving that dump truck over your mother again. Have you no decency?”

“Not the least shred,” I grinned. “A good son always fucks his mother to the best of his ability. She deserves nothing less.”

“Well, as long as you’re spoiling Momma rotten, how about some doggie action?” she asked, rolling onto he knees.

Moving quickly behind her, I slid myself home into her wetness. With my first stroke, I bent to her neck and lightly nipped the nape.


As I began slamming her, she cocked her ass to me, pushing back in concert with my thrusts and the room filled with the sweet, timeless slap of flesh on flesh. Having spent myself recently, I had endurance to spare, so I concentrated on giving Mom my best, varying the pace and depth of my strokes, pausing occasionally, grinding and thrusting unpredictably, drawing gasps of surprise and pleasure as I worked to bring her off again. I felt like I wanted to do her for hours, but the combination of her sounds, the impact of my thighs against her buttocks and the sight of her ass jiggling with the impact of my fucking soon had me rocketing out of control. More quickly than I would have liked, I lost myself in pleasure and unleashed a fusillade of thrusts against her ass, finally locking myself closely against her as my passion burst inside her tightness.

As I released myself, I heard her sigh, “My lovely boy,” as she crested over her own peak.

Collapsing onto my side, I drew her down with me, still connected. As she spooned against me with a contented wiggle, I closed my eyes and dozed fitfully, celestial harmony reasserted in my universe, all of the cosmos in sublime alignment.

I awoke with a slight start some unknown time later, Mom gently cleaning my cock with a warm washcloth. Favoring me with a gentle smile, she kissed my tip lightly and handed me my boxers.

“Time to get dressed, sweetheart. We’re on final approach.”

“Final approach to where, Mom?”

“You’ll know in five minutes, hotshot, so practice some patience.”

“I swear to God, Mom, you’re driving me batshit with this secrecy. I think that you hauled my ashes just to keep me distracted!”

“Don’t be ungracious, Ricky,” she scolded. “As I recall, someone was holding out on his lover about a secret nine years ago to the day. After that wonderful stunt, you’re in no position to complain – ever. Besides,” she added, “I happen to be enjoying this nice, cold, refreshing dish of revenge very much at the moment. So, tough titties!” she concluded defiantly, smiling widely.

Nodding meekly in defeat, I pulled my shorts and t shirt on and took Mom’s hand, leading her back to our seats. Checking my watch, still on BC time, I saw it was about 1 pm. We’d been airborne about four and a half hours. I tried for a quick look out of the window and caught a brief glimpse of water, but Mom pulled the shade down, grinning. Taking her hand and lacing our fingers together, I smiled reassuringly.

“I won’t try to peek, Mom. I won’t spoil the surprise.”

After we touched down, we soon found ourselves in another spacious hangar. Stepping onto the waiting gangway, I could see out the wide expanse of the open door to a vista of a huge, ochre volcanic peak, towering over us from the distance. The air was subtropical, warm and moist, with a steady breeze blowing, adding just the right amount of cooling.

As we strolled to the opening of the hangar, Mom took my hand, gesturing with her free arm towards the mountain.

“Haleakala, Ricky. Happy anniversary and welcome to Maui.”

Slipping my arm around her waist, I kissed her, murmuring, “Thanks, momma-love. It’s a wonderful gift.”

There’s not much to say about our vacation/anniversary celebration. We did a lot of the things everybody enjoys, including a trip down the Road to Hana, hitting the beaches near Lahaina and going to the summit of Haleakala. We opted to avoid the touristy crush of the sunrise, instead going in the late afternoon for sundown. We were well rewarded for our efforts, sharing the summit with only a few dozen people. A sunset above the clouds is something everyone should have on their bucket list. I even learned to do a little windsurfing on Hookipa Bay.

In deference to Gina and Paul’s privacy, we opted to stay away from the usual accommodations. Some time ago, Paul explained, they had purchased a small, secluded villa on the northern flank of Haleakala, overlooking the small town of Makawao, a charming little upcountry hamlet with many small shops, galleries and an honest-to-god, working western goods store on Baldwin Ave., catering to the local ranchers and paniolos. We frequented a number of the eateries favored by the locals. Gina and Paul were known here and the townsfolk guarded their privacy as fiercely as any phalanx of bodyguards.

Mom and I had an immediate reaction to the town and people. Have you ever gone someplace and felt like you just put on an old pair of slippers and put your feet up? That’s what we felt like. There was an immediate sense of connection to the place, which only grew stronger as we stayed longer.

About 4 days into our stay, Mom and I took a walk up to the terminus of the dead-end access road that led to Gina and Paul’s place. There, we stumbled upon a small adjacent, abandoned property. A diminutive, salmon-colored, stucco bungalow in local style was just visible from the road, overrun with bougainvillea, shuttered and definitely the worse for wear. There were a few obvious holes in the tile roof, which was protected by two enormous monkey pod trees. The house sat nestled in their shade, a small, flawed jewel.

Mom and I saw it at the same time, with the same reaction.

“What a wonderful little house,” Mom sighed, squeezing my arm.

“It’s a perfect setting,” I agreed. “I wonder what the story behind it is.”

Later that evening over dinner, I discretely asked Gina and Paul about it. Paul said that no one had lived there for at least ten years, the original owners having passed away with no heirs. It would probably go on the auction block for unpaid back taxes in a few months, he felt.

When I heard this, wheels started to turn and I began to formulate a plan. The next day, I left Mom and the kids with Gina and went with Paul to the county records office. A little research and a consultation with a local real estate agent confirmed that the county was already in possession of the fee simple deed, but that there had been no interest due to the relatively isolated location and dilapidated condition of the property. A few quick calls to our mainland bank and engagement of a local attorney produced the desired results and two days later I found myself in possession of a set of keys.

With Gina’s help. we managed to keep Mom in the dark until I had the keys. That evening, after a sumptuous dinner of obscenely fresh ahi, I found Mom in the lanai of the villa, talking with Gina and Paul. Anna was plopped in Mom’s lap, Dee Dee engaged in a ukulele duel with Paul and Emmy was nestled in Aunt Gina’s arm, dozing off her dinner.

I caught Gina’s eye and nodded.

“Well, sugar,” Gina drawled, addressing herself to Mom, “I b’lieve your handsome fella has a surprise for y’all.” She reached out and ran a finger across the back of Mom’s hand, making her shiver just a little.

Mom smiled shyly and silently mouthed “Later,” then immediately turned to me, her eyes glinting.

“Just what have you been up to, Ricky?” she inquired suspiciously. “I know you’ve been sneaking around the past few days, trying to keep something from me, I just know it.”

“I do have a surprise for you, pretty lady, but you’ll have to get up and come with me to see it.”

“I’m in no mood for more of your shenanigans, buster,” Mom warned.

“If you’re a good sport, I’ll sweeten the deal, boss lady. We’ll go into Paia and I’ll get you a coconut ice cream cone.”

“Paulie and I will look after the munchkins, sugar,” Gina added.

“Just what my waistline needed,” Mom grumbled. “But okay. I consider myself bribed. Do your worst.”

After leading Mom to the car, we buckled up and I produced a scarf. When I made to tie it around her head, she balked.

“For Pete’s sake, Ricky, what’s going on here? You already forced me to abandon our children and a perfectly comfortable lounge chair and now this? Enough is enough.”

“C’mon, Mom,” I wheedled. “I absolutely promise it’ll be worth it, cross my heart and hope to never fuck you again,” I laughed.

Settling, the scarf over her face, Mom sighed theatrically and settled into her seat, arms tightly folded on her chest.

“You better be right, buster, otherwise I’ll hold you to the ‘no momma-nookie’ part of that promise.”

“God forbid I would let my momma-love down. I’d die first.”

“Enough theatrics, my erstwhile son. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Pulling slowly out of the driveway, I drove away from the house and towards town to obscure my final destination. With many turns and doublings back, I eventually got us back to the bungalow. Helping Mom from the car, I walked her to the padlocked gate and pressed the key into her hand, at the same time removing her scarf-blindfold with a flourish.

“Happy anniversary, Mom. Welcome to Lindermann’s Folly.”

“Oh. My. God. Ohmygod, Ricky! You didn’t! You did! You did, you impossible, wonderful man, you did!” she cried, flinging herself into my arms.

“How did you know, you crazy boy? How did you know I fell in love with this the moment I saw it? I love it! I love you, my handsome, gorgeous, amazing husband-son! I love you!”

Kissing her soundly, I replied, “A good son always knows what his mom needs or wants. It’s his job to make her feel happy and loved.”

“You snuck up on me again, you brat! Just when I finally turn the tables on you, you turn around and pull a stunt like this. You’re worse than impossible. You’re incorrigible and irredeemable and I’ll love you until my last breath!” she scolded me, her eyes brimming.

Pausing to take a breath, she wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm and smiled, “You made me cry again too, you bad man. Shame on you for getting your mother dehydrated!”

“We’ll go into town now and fix that, if you like, Mom.”

Smiling mischievously, Mom gently backed me to the fender of our car, her hands going to the waistband of my shorts. As the back of my thighs came into contact with the car, she said, “I’m thirsty for something else now.”

Quickly looking up and down the road, then dropping to her knees, she pulled the shorts to my ankles and enveloped me without preamble, quickly raising me to complete hardness. She then proceeded to give me a blow job without mercy, lavishing wet, sloppy attention on me from balls to crown. She kept me at the toe-curling, ragged edge of release for at least ten minutes before she sucked me into a knee-buckling explosion that left her mouth overflowing with my spend and her cheeks and nose dripping with semen. I was so wobbly after her motherly attention that she helped me to the passenger seat and took over the driving duties. We did end up going into Paia, where Mom got her second load of more conventional, tasty, tropical cream, white coconut, of course.

Walking back to the car, holding hands, her head on my shoulder, I pulled her close.

“Love you, gorgeous.”

“It’s possible I still love you too, son. I’ll need to think about it after this latest stunt of yours, though,” she sniffed.

“So this means I’m sleeping on the couch?”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Mom teased, tousling my hair affectionately.

“Well,” I sighed theatrically. “I suppose I’ll have to live with that.”

“Anyway, I have the feeling that a certain country and western singer I know expects her face to be sat upon tonight,” I continued, zinging her again. “I guess I’ll just have to be second fiddle again…Owwww!”

“That hurt, Mom!” I yelped indignantly.

“Consider yourself lucky, sport,” she retorted. “Would you rather I hit your arm or applied some more…intimate discipline?”

Slipping her hand down to squeeze my ass, she purred, “You know I always need my boy’s wonderful cock after Gina eats me, so don’t give me that second fiddle bullshit, my fine son.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That’s better, Ricky. Now let’s get home. Gina’s waiting for me.”

“As my cum slut wishes.”

We extended our trip a few extra days and were able to find a well-respected local architect and contractor to undertake the renovations of the bungalow. Eight months later we celebrated the first of many Christmas holidays at our island sanctuary.


As we approached our 19th anniversary, I was quite content, indeed happier than anyone has a right to be. Our lodge ran like clockwork, culinary reviews remained glowing and we were accorded the singular honor of two Michelin stars in the previous year, my proudest professional accomplishment. The joint “special project” with Marcia and Shawn remained an unqualified success, our most circumspect and private portion of the Inn now being fully booked up to 11 months in advance. Under Marcia’s discerning eye, we continued to receive interior design and decorating accolades for the Inn and of course, her continued role as the ultra-discreet webmaster of her special website kept the lover’s compound extensively booked. Shawn had worked his e-commerce magic with the online version of Mia Nonna Cucina and our internet-derived cash flow now actually exceeded the take of the Inn.

The children were doing great. Deirdre seemed to have inherited Mom’s ferocious drive and academic prowess in spades. She was now going to school at McGill University in Toronto, majoring in mathematics, with a full merit scholarship. She was on track to graduate with honors a year early and was already thinking about graduate school.

Anna had blossomed into an even more talented chef than I was at her age. She was enrolled in cooking school in Vancouver and appeared poised to step in as the heir apparent to Casa di Mia Nonna. Almost half of the new additions to our menu in the past year had come from Anna’s fertile imagination. It was a wonderful feeling to know that the Inn was going to be in such good hands, staying in the family.

Surprisingly, Jason had developed a real aptitude for business, having been taken under Marsh and Shawn’s wing during his junior year in high school, learning the ins and outs of running our various enterprises. He had Mom’s stubborn streak, but also her negotiating and people skills as well. He seemed to be able to sniff out a business opportunity over the horizon and was working on his business admin degree like a man possessed.

Now in high school, Emmy was as sweet and good natured as ever and perhaps the brightest of all our children, but blissfully unconcerned about anything beyond the next day. I fussed and fretted as dads always do about her future plans, friends and the legions of boys who came sniffing around the apple of my eye, but for the most part, Mom kept me in line, so I didn’t completely ruin her social life.

I can remember one occasion in particular sitting in the kitchen after Emmy had gone to school, Mom scolding me about being overprotective. “Ricky, why are fathers so RETARDED about their daughters? She’s got to grow up, to learn how to have normal relationships. Give her some credit, please. Let her make choices, even if they are occasionally bad. She’s ten times as smart as I was at her age about boys and being careful, so lighten up, okay?”

I grumbled something about the world going to hell in a hand basket and teenage boys being the priapic spawn of the devil, but Mom held firm, laughing at my dour father-isms.

“Ricky! I never thought I’d live to see the day that my boy turned into an old fart!” she laughed.

“Me, an old fart?”

“Yes, you, my reactionary son.”

Grabbing for her, I roughly pulled her into my lap, reaching under her blouse to cup her breasts, tweaking her nipples.

“I’ll show you who’s an old fart, mother dear!”

“Be careful what you wish for, hotshot. I can still fuck you under the table any day of the week.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, momma-love?”

Eventually, I learned to let go a little and made some peace with the maturation of our final, best-loved child. After she departed for college at U.B.C., Emmy continued to surprise us in her usual quiet way, first by majoring in psychology and then by being accepted into the Yale Divinity School, where she took a Master’s Degree in Divinity, followed by an additional year for her Master of Sacred Theology degree. The most amazing surprise though, was when she came back to our growing special community to found a church. Her ministry was, to say the least, unusual, attending to the unique spiritual needs of the families and relations of our special village. I sometimes wonder if she made up her mind about that after we had The Talk on her eighteenth birthday. If she did, she certainly held those cards close to her chest, because Mom and I never had an inkling. Nevertheless, it was a most wondrous and welcome surprise.


My beautiful wife-mother was a luminous, fit and eternally beautiful 58 years of age, her figure still trim. Her long-term commitment to healthy diet and vigorous exercise was reaping huge dividends-she easily looked a decade younger than her actual years. Hiking and sea kayaking had made her more fit than most women half her age. True, gravity and time had conspired for the eventual failure of the pencil test, but she remained a goddess to me. While there was some detectable sag, if anything her breasts had acquired a certain character and special charm through childbearing and nursing, with noticeably thickened and elongated nipples (hooray!) compared to her 39th year. Her marvelous ass and legs were almost undiminished by time, retaining much of their supple and taut majesty. If she was slightly thicker through the middle, it was minimally changed from our beginning times. Laugh lines, some crow’s feet and a spray of gray in her hair only added to her appeal, as far as I was concerned.

Of course, life has this funny way of throwing you flaming curveballs when you least expect it, and as everyone knows, real happiness consists of being able to appreciate those all-too-fleeting periods of time where the ointment is very briefly free of flies.

It was in one of those blessedly clear-ointment days that I came home to a great, big freaking horsefly in the oil.

I had just returned from a whirlwind trip to Kelowna and Summerland, trying to track down a rumor of a couple local fruit growers reputed to make the finest jams and preserves in the province, hoping to acquire their output for our catalogue, but without a definite deal. The twins, who had accompanied me, expressed an interest in shopping the Granville Market, so I left them with the car in Vancouver and cadged a floatplane flight to Victoria and had the Inn’s shuttle pick me up there for the rest of my homeward journey. I called Mom when I landed in Victoria.

As I entered our kitchen, I had no more on my mind than a couple fingers of Armagnac and a cuddle with my woman by the fireplace, but all that changed when I saw the envelope on the counter of the breakfast bar. My name was on the front, in Mom’s distinctive penmanship.

The message inside was, in usual Jennifer Marie fashion, succinct and to the point. “Jason is out fishing for the day. Get you cute ass and swinging dick upstairs immediately. Mommy needs a good, hard fucking RIGHT NOW.”

Shedding layers as quickly as possible, strewing them behind me, I moved quickly towards our bedroom. (Note to self – it’s much better to get your pants off all the way before trying to climb stairs.)

Willie preceding me by the usual 8 inches, I made my way through the door. The sight which awaited me was mesmerizing. Mom, naked, was on her knees in bed, ass upraised towards the door, looking back directly at me as I crossed the threshold. Her left hand was between her legs, the middle finger pistoning at her heaven’s gate, her thumb rubbing her little pearl. With her right hand, she was rotating a finger in and out of her beautiful pucker, gliding between her cheeks. Everything I could see glistened with her juices.

“Get over here right now, lover,” she husked. “I don’t care where you stick that wonderful cock, just FUCK ME!”

I always follow good advice.

Crawling up behind her, I licked in a continuous motion from clit to rosebud. She moaned. “Dammit, I want your cock!”

Teasing her unmercifully, I rubbed my little soldier’s head up and down her slit, toying at her vaginal opening, then dragging across her perineum to apply light pressure to her little hole. “Hmmmm,” I teased. “Decisions, decisions.” She pushed back wantonly, trying to capture my throbbing invader. “Mommy is being a real cum slut today, isn’t she? She wants her little boy to fuck her sooooo bad. She wants to be real bad, doesn’t she?”

“Yesssssss,” she hissed. “Do me Ricky, I need your cock. Stick it up my nasty ass!”

Rising up onto the balls of my feet, I directed my helmet at her anus, pushing steadily and firmly. Already relaxed by her previous digital ministrations, I slid in easily with a slight pop. Normally, Mom adores a very slow, steady beginning to our ass fucking sessions, but this time, she immediately pushed herself back quickly and firmly, taking me immediately to the root, and then pulled forward with a jerk, leaving only my glans imbedded in her back channel. She then slammed back into my hips with a heavy grunt and growl. “Unnnnhhhhhh!”

Reaching over her back, I gently entwined my fingers in her hair and pulled her head back and around so she could see me. Leaning forward, I whispered to her. “Mommy’s really horny today, isn’t she? Mommy needs something really bad, and only her son can give it to her. But to get this, she’s going to have to tell him what to do. What do you want Ricky to do, Mommy?” As I was whispering to her, I was withdrawing from her ass.

She slammed back against my hips again. “Unh! Mommy needs her son to fuck her nasty asshole real hard!” she whispered. She began to move her hips in earnest, now setting up a steady, heavy rhythm. “Unh! Unh! Harder! Fuck me harder!”

I moved over the crests of her buttocks, gripping the sides of both ass cheeks with my knees, settling fully into the saddle. With that, I began to move in earnest concert with her hip thrusts. With every cycle of movement, she issued a primeval grunt as her ass met my thighs. “Unh!” Slap. “Unh!” Slap. “Unh!” Slap. As our pace accelerated, I could tell she was going to crest soon. Her left hand was busy over her clit, rubbing furiously as she sought release. Presently, she stiffened and thrust her ass upwards and back, practically lifting me off the bed. Straining, maintaining this position, she rolled into her orgasm like a tsunami. “Oh god oh God oh God, Ricky! RICKY! CUMMMING! MOMMY’S CUUUUMMINNNGGGGGGGGGGG!” As her ass contracted in huge spasms around my meat, it was all I could do to hold myself back. Straining until my neck muscles bulged and veins stood out, I concentrated, actually biting the inside of my cheek to distract myself. I already could tell that one cum was not going to take care of Mom’s need today and I needed to be ready for a much longer ride.

As she collapsed, I gently lowered her by her hips to the bed, where she lay prostrate, beads of sweat rolling off my forehead and chest onto her still twitching buttocks. Breath still coming in ragged gasps, I contemplated my strategy.

Careful to maintain my position in her wondrously gripping back channel, I maneuvered us around so she was now facing towards the foot of the bed. While she was still moaning and mumbling gibberish, I reached towards her nightstand, finding the drawer by touch and quietly sliding it open. Stealthily exploring with my fingertips, I eventually found her favorite vibrator, a 9-inch behemoth with pulsating head and realistic anatomy. Placing it within easy reach, I carefully hauled Mom up by her hips and began to slowly move again, in and out, with a slight corkscrewing motion, one of her favorites. As she slowly returned from bliss, I increased my pace in concert with her increasing awareness. I began caressing her back and buttocks, moving my hands smoothly and without interruption from spine to cheeks to flank and around the front to her breasts which I cupped and squeezed, followed by light pinching of her nipples, then repeating the cycle.

“God, what you do to me, Ricky! You feel so damn good!”

“So, my bitch goddess Mommy is ready for some more?”

“Ooh, yes, lover.”

I slowly reestablished my stroke, lengthening as much as I could without actually popping back out of her little pink crinkle. As our coupling gained more momentum, her thrusts again became stronger, more demanding. She began to moan again.

“Oh, honey, you feel so good in Mommy’s ass. You fuck me so well this way. Mmmmmmmmm. Yes, nice and hard, that’s what your Momma wants. Give it all to me, baby.”

Taking care not to disturb our rhythm, I groped at my side for mother’s not-so-little helper. Timing my movements, I slowly withdrew until only my tip was submerged in Mom’s gripping rectum. Holding this position, I refused to let her reengage me. She was now making little mewling sounds of frustration. In one integrated motion, I then eased again into her velvet ass, at the same time bringing the vibrator to her pussy, pushing it gently but firmly into it’s full length as I bottomed out in her entrails.

Her head shot up from the mattress as though jerked by a rope. She turned to look at me an expression of complete surprise and unsurpassed carnality on her face. I flicked the switch to maximum power.

“Oh, SHIT! Oh God! What are you doing to me Ricky? Sweet Jesus, Mommy’s coming again! Ahhh!”

If her last orgasm was intense, this one was absolutely seismic. She was transformed into a gyrating, vibrating thrusting and gibbering wild animal, completely immersed in her waves of pleasure.

Her response, combined with the incredible transmission of vibration through the thin membrane separating front from back had me ascending my own ladder of delirium. As she peaked, her contractions were so strong they forced the vibrator out from her vagina and she squirted, flooding her thighs and the bed sheets.

I lost it completely at that point. I jackhammered as hard and fast as I could, the impact of my thighs on her buttocks causing her whole body to vibrate. As though in slow motion, I could see the shockwaves of my impact on her divine ass spread upwards along her flank and belly, culminating in a whiplash of movement in her breasts. My own spending was so intense, it felt as though my ropes of cum had ballistic velocity. It felt like I had a quart of semen to give up.

“Oh, Mom! Cumming! Cumming in your beautiful asshole!”

I fell away from her onto my back, feeling like a pithed frog. Mom was totally out, ass still raised in the air, her entire body intermittently twitching. I could see my cum slowly oozing out of her sweetly abused, reddened pucker. Her breathing was deep, irregular and shuddering. She slowly collapsed onto her stomach.

Somehow, I managed to reestablish communication with my higher centers and slowly crawled up to her head. I sat next to her, cross-legged and carefully moved her head into my lap, stroking her hair from her forehead, brushing her cheeks. Her eyes, previously closed tightly, fluttered and then opened fully to regard me. The look of love and contentment I saw there was timeless. I bent to kiss her gently.

“Oh, Mom,” I exhaled in exhausted ecstasy. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I am blown away. That was beyond amazing. I don’t understand how you still turn me on so much.”

“It’s mutual, gorgeous man. You’re my lover and my son, I’m your lover and your mother – it’s always going to be that way,” she said, sighing contentedly. “Nothing can compare to my boy’s fine cock, nothing.”

“Soooo, to what do I owe this moment?” I inquired.

“Ricky, I….I don’t quite know where to begin…”

I was immediately alert, my post-orgasmic haze completely dispersed, as though by a cold winter’s gale. A feeling of dread coalesced in the pit of my stomach. I knew my mother-love far too well to miss the signs of something serious bothering her.

“Mom! What is it? Are you OK? Are you sick? What’s wrong?” My voice escalated into a pitch of high anxiety.

She smiled and pulled me back down for a long, loving kiss. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. It’s just that something’s come up today and I’m not sure how to handle it. It could really affect us both in a major way, and I’m a bit worried about it, about how you’ll react when I tell you.

“No secrets, Mom. You can tell me anything. There’s nothing you could do or say that will change how I feel about you.”

Adopting a teasing tone I asked, “So, you have a boy toy you want to tell me about?”

She suddenly pushed me on my back, straddling my abdomen with her thighs. Her look became more serious. I began to laugh.

“Ricky! Don’t be a brat!”

“Sorry,” I giggled. “I’m sorry Mom. It’s just hard to be serious when I can feel my come dripping out of your ass and into my belly button.”

“You’re absolutely irredeemable. Maybe I should just suffocate you with a pillow and end my headaches once and for all.”

“If you’re going to suffocate me, I’d rather you do it by sitting on my face.”

“I rest my case, you bad man.” She again became serious. “Your remark about a boy toy is potentially close to the mark.”


“It’s easier to show rather than tell. Look at this.”

As she was speaking, she reached under her pillow, pulling out a pair of panties. It was a pair of Aubade boyshorts, in transparent black with a floral pattern, which I had purchased for her as a Christmas gift a year ago. She opened them up, showing me the gusset. There was an obvious cum stain, still aromatic and damp.

“I found these in the hamper this morning,” she said with some gravity.

Her emphasis on the timing of the discovery was not lost on me.

“No shit – it was Jase?”


“What’s the big deal? I’m sure you can handle the situation, and it would probably be much better for his teenage ego if I stayed out of it.”

“Jason’s little valentine to me makes his feelings perfectly clear. Did you pause to consider how I might feel about all this?”

“I don’t understand.”

Mom looked at me like a first grader who had added two plus two and gotten six for the answer. “Ricky,” she intoned sternly.

I thought for a moment and my eyes went wide, as I did my sums correctly.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”

She moved off my belly and slid down next to me, curling up tightly under my arm. I held her tight.

“What ever am I going to do, Ricky?” She was now crying softly. “I’ve only felt this conflicted once before in my entire life!”

“You mean…”

“Yes! Yes!! Do you know how hard it was for me, back when you were 16 and cooked that birthday meal for me? When you kissed me? Do you know how close I came to giving in right then? I loved and desired you at least as much as you needed me! When I said I would also try to be strong, I didn’t mean to help you, I meant to resist my own overwhelming temptations. I wanted you so bad I could taste it. That night I had to bring myself off three times just to fall asleep. She held up her fingers under my nose, millimeters apart. “I came that close to coming into you room that night. It took every molecule of self-control I had to keep my hands off you. As much as we both wanted it, I could sense that it wasn’t…the right time. I needed to wait to see what kind of man you would grow into. As much as I ached for you, I knew it would ruin you and we wouldn’t last if I gave in then.”

I was stunned. “Mom, I had no idea. I thought you were being the stern, upright parent, trying to rein in her wayward son.”

“Well, now you know. While you were falling in love with me, I had also fallen deeply and romantically in love with you too. It was hell.”

I laughed ruefully. “All those years until I graduated from college…”

“Yes. I thought at times I would go absolutely mad. I was and remained terribly conflicted, even as we began to become intimate. I was so afraid of what it would do to us, especially to you, as a young man, if it didn’t work out. It wasn’t until I got back from that fateful trip to Vancouver that I finally accepted and embraced what had and was going to happen between us.”

“No regrets, no guilt, Mom. We promised that to each other on our first night together. I think we were blessed that events took the course they did. I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m very glad you told me this, though,” I said softly, nuzzling her ear.

Squeezing her tightly, I said, “I know exactly what to do, and what’s more I know it’s exactly the right thing to do.”

Mom looked at me, an eyebrow arched in silent query.

“Absolutely nothing.”

Mom made a disgusted noise. “You’re no help.”

“Listen, light of my life. I’m taking this just as seriously as you are. But you have to understand, I’m going to do nothing because I love you. I trust you absolutely and I’ll be fine with whatever you decide.”

“Ricky! You can’t be serious!”

“I can and I am.”

Stroking her hair, I explained myself. “Point one. You have a fundamentally different relationship with Jason than you had with me at that age. If you decided to go to bed with him, it would still be different than what we have together. Point two. I know our son, just as I think you do. If you go forward with this, I think he’ll be okay. I think it’s very likely that Fiona is going to be the one for him, even now. They look like they love each other to death. Point three. After almost 19 years together, I know you would never do anything to hurt him, me or us. I have total, and I mean absolute confidence, that we are going to be together always. Point four. When you and Gina became lovers, did it harm us or me in any way? It never bothered me for a moment and it allowed you to complete yourself, to fully get in touch with all aspects of your real self, you essence. I think it made you a more whole person. Finally…. finally, I’m surprising myself very much here, but I find the idea to be somehow appropriate and preordained. I mean, sharing with our son what you also gave to me is a…a…a sublime gift. It’s a statement of absolute, unconditional love and trust and will bind him closer to you than anyone but me. I kind of like that. It would also be an indirect gift from me to him as well, trusting and allowing him to share the most precious thing on earth to me.”

“My god, Ricky. My god.”

“I trust my gut on this one, Mom. I know and love both of you. It’ll be fine. I do think, though, that it should be handled slowly and carefully. It’s probably best if he feels that he’s making the moves, at least for now. I trust your instincts to set the pace here. You probably shouldn’t tell him about our conversation, at least just yet. You decide the speed of things and the ground rules. We should work out some sort of short hand communication though. I’d like to know when to make myself scarce.” I took a deep breath. “There’s one other thing. You can decide how much you want to tell me.”

“I love you, Ricky. I didn’t think I could love you any more than I already do, but how I feel right now, about you, about us – it’s staggering. You have no idea how much I treasure what you just told me, my beloved husband-son.”

“You’re my lady,” I said simply.

“As for sharing, lover, I intend, to tell you everything.” She reached for my cock, fondling it lazily. “Besides, I think you’d enjoy it,” she teased.”

“God help me, I think you’re right, woman. What have we gotten ourselves into here?”

“More love.”

I got out of bed and pulled Mom to her feet. “Grab the comforter, Mom. Let’s go downstairs. I’ll light a fire and we’ll watch the waves roll in and drink some Armagnac and be naked together.”

“You always knew how to show a lady a good time.”

I grabbed her by those magnificent cheeks and pulled her to me, kissing her soundly.

“Mmmmmmmm. Are you sure all you want to do is to snuggle and sit by the fire, son?”

I put her hand back on my rapidly hardening member. “Actually, there are a couple of places Willie hasn’t visited yet today. Maybe you could show him.”

“You’re a selfish beast, concerned only for your own carnal pleasure.”

“And you’re an insatiable harlot, thinking only with where the next rigid Johnson is. Come to think of it, I NEED Jason’s help with you. You’ll wear me down to frazzled nubbin and cast me aside callously.”

She broke our embrace, walking out the door with an exaggerated sway to her hips, dragging the comforter behind her. She cast a smoldering look over her shoulder. “Come downstairs to the fires, husband-son.”


A few days later, I asked Mom how things were with Jason. She told me that they had necked a little and talked a lot about where things were going. Jase was very excited but also very nervous, very worried about what my reaction was going to be, in spite of Mom’s assurances.

“He needs to hear it from you, Ricky. My sweet, virgin boy is so afraid he’ll break your heart if he does anything but he’s so hot for his Momma, he doesn’t know whether to shit or go blind. He needs to know everything now, I think.”

“You’re right as always, Mom. I’ll take a walk with him after school today. We’ll have The Talk.”

Having already had the discussion about Mom’s and my relationship with Dee Dee and Anna, I felt reasonably prepared to have the conversation with my son, but the wrinkle of his desire for our mother made it difficult to predict what his reaction might be. I resolved to take the situation in hand immediately and grabbed him when he got home from hockey practice.

“Let’s take a walk, Jase. I’ve got a couple things I want to talk with you about,” I said, accosting him in the hallway.

“What’s up, Dad?” he asked nervously. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope, I’m not going to lower the boom on you. You’re not in any trouble,” I assured him.

Once we got away from the compound, I came straight to the point.

“Son, I want to talk about what’s going on with you and your mother.”

Looking like a deer in the headlights, Jason stood stock still, staring at me, more than a little fear in his eyes. Continuing quickly, I spoke quietly, not giving him any time to react.

“Your mom has told me that you and she are thinking about taking your relationship in a new, more intimate direction, but you’re afraid of what I may do if that happens. Is that right?”

Jason gulped and nodded, trying vainly to clear his throat. Finally, he managed to rasp out a single word, dry as dust.


“Do you think that your old dad has slipped a cam? That maybe there’s something missing in his relationship with his wife, or maybe that he can’t provide what she needs any more? That he might be angry and jealous to be replaced by his own virile, young son?”

“Well, yeah.”

He looked like he was about to lose his lunch, so I put my arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

“Here’s a little life lesson for you, Jason. It very much applies to your mother and me. When you really, truly love someone, there’s no sense of ownership, no concept of property or entitlement. The only thing you care about is making that person happy. There’s an amazing feeling of trust and openness that’s hard to describe. There’s also a real sense of faith and optimism, that any changes or challenges are faced together and that one will always be there for the other. So, when someone I love very much wants to be with someone else who I also love very much and who I also trust, who am I to stand in the way of that? At the end of the day, they end up closer, loving each other even more and I haven’t lost anything, because I know that both of them will always be there for me.”

We resumed walking, Jason still in somewhat of a daze, looking at me like I was a three-headed alien.

“You should also know that I have a very good idea of some of the emotions you’re experiencing right now, because I have felt them myself.”

“Dad! You mean…you mean that, umm, that you wanted your mom too?”

“Wanted her, had her and married her, Jason.” He stood stock still for a moment, in complete shock. He swallowed hard several times as he digested the news, fully at a loss for words.

Jason was awestruck, clearly not fully comprehending what I had just confessed to him. I could fairly see the thoughts whirling in his head as we walked down the trail towards our cove. Finally, the last of the circuits closed and he gasped, jaw hanging open.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, promptly tripping over his own feet, sprawling onto his face at my feet.

Smiling, I helped him to his feet, brushing the dust and pine needles off his clothes as he stood, shivering.

“It’s a lot to swallow, isn’t it, son?”

“My God, Dad. My God. I don’t know what to say. I truly don’t.”

“You don’t have to say anything right now, if you don’t want to. Take some time. Mull things over. I promise Mom and I will answer any questions you have.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m…well, I’m in shock. I never had any idea. I don’t know what to think.”

“Whatever you and Mom decide is up to both of you. If you want to be with her, I’m sure it will be a wonderful experience. Your mother is a warm, loving and passionate woman, as well as a patient teacher. You could do a lot worse for a lover, believe me.”

“There’s only one more thing I want to say, Jason. It’s not for me to set the parameters of a new relationship with you mother. You two have to work those things out together. The only thing I’m going to tell you is to treat her with respect. Respect as a woman, respect as a bed partner, but most of all, respect as your mom. Never, ever forget she’s your mother. That’s it.”

“Let’s go back now. We’ll have a beer and you can talk with Mom.”

“A beer, Dad? Really?”

“Yup. You’re taking on a man’s responsibilities now, son. Two people are letting you into their hearts, totally trusting you. You now have the power to cause a lot of hurt and heartache, to wreck a whole family, if you aren’t careful and mature about how you handle yourself.”

We were silent the rest of the way back to the lodge. When we got back, Jason went immediately to Mom and they excused themselves, going into the family room to talk. After about an hour, Jason went to his room alone and Mom came out to the kitchen, where I was sitting at the table.

Setting herself in my lap, she kissed me soundly, eyes glistening.

“Have I told you I love you, Ricky?”

“Not in the last fifteen minutes.”

“I do. You’re a wonderful, wise person with a great, magnificent heart. I don’t know how I ever got so lucky. ”

“I’m the lucky one, Mom. I married the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

“You were perfect with Jason, sweetie. He told me everything. You’ve got him thinking with his heart and head and not his cock. That’s a major miracle for an eighteen year old.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“That he is, husband-son. He wants to sleep on it, doesn’t want to rush things. He’s patient and thoughtful, just like his father.”

Shortly after, Jason came down to the kitchen. He surprised us both with ferocious hugs, announcing, “You guys are the most incredible, amazing people I know. I’m so glad I’m your son, you make me feel so lucky and proud.”

“Need the car keys again?” I teased.

“Nah, thanks Dad. I’m gonna go hang with Fiona for a while. Got some things I want to talk with her about. We’ll probably eat over at the lodge. Barry and Lisa said they’d make us some pizza.”

Mom smiled and squeezed my hand.

“Your staff spoils those kids more than we do.”

“Terrible, isn’t it?”

I didn’t see Jason until the next day, near noontime, and then only briefly. He paused in the kitchen long enough for a glass of milk and a toasted bagel and then left to see Fiona. He moved dreamily and slowly, a small smile on his lips, seeming oblivious to my presence.

About ten minutes later, Mom joined me for lunch, a wistful smile on her face.

“I had a long talk with Jase this early morning,” she announced.

“Did you come to any arrangement?” I asked.

“Jason lost his virginity last night…to Fiona,” she explained.

“Wow. That young buck has a lot going on in his life now,”

“As sweet as it would have been to be his first, I think it’s better this way,” Mom confessed.

“We talked for a couple hours while you were still sleeping. He told me everything, how it was for them, what it was like. He asked me a lot of questions about how he could be a better lover for her. I guess it was a bit awkward and unsatisfying for both of them on one level, but they are happy to be together now.”

“Our son is so sweet, Ricky. I’m really proud of him, how he’s handling things. He told me that as much as he has the hots for me and as much as he loves me, what he feels with Fiona is different. He doesn’t feel right being with me for that reason, as much as he thinks it would be (these are his words) ‘totally, fucking mind-blowingly hot.’”

“He wants to be exclusive with Fiona, see where that leads. But he warned me that if things end up not working out for them, I’d better not bend over around him,” she giggled.

It ended up that Mom and Jason never did get together. Fiona captured our son, hook, line and sinker and they were and still are deliriously happy with each other. We rejoiced that Jason seemed to experience the same love and lust that we had and still have for each other, Mom perhaps slightly more wistfully than me.

I’m sure that Jason told Fiona at some point about his stillborn affair with Mom, because in years to come, I would occasionally see Jase cop a friendly butt squeeze or titty grope on Mom in Fiona’s presence, much to her merriment. I never complained, since things never went anywhere and it seemed to usually get Mom’s engine well-revved up for me. No harm, no foul, right?


I can remember a particular day with great clarity. We had just celebrated our 44th year together. We took the day to make a slow, leisurely tour of the island, winding through some of our favorite places, stopping in Tofino, Campbell River, Nanaimo and several other small towns along the Salish Sea. A wonderful picnic lunch prepared for us by Anna, Jason and Fiona was consumed with relish as we enjoyed the views of Cowichan Lake. We had cold roast squab, a fresh baguette, late harvest cherries, some Camembert and a marvelous Pouilly Fume, chilled in the lake waters.

Early evening found us near home, outside Victoria, with an ethereal sunset in front of us, the palette a pastel fusion of shades of apricot, rose and violet. We sat on a bench-like rock overlooking our small, nameless cove, watching the waves break on the boulder-strewn shore and the sky slowly darkening. Mom leaned against me, wrapping her arm around my waist as we sat and I pulled her close, once again savoring her scent, of soap and sandalwood.

She snuggled in a little closer, a small sigh escaping from her lips as I tightened my embrace.

“What are you thinking, Mom?”

“I’m feeling a little maudlin and sentimental, Ricky. Just reliving a few memories and thinking about how many more sunsets we have together.”

“I want as many as I can get, Mom.”

“There’s a price to be paid for everything, Ricky,” she had chided me gently. “Even for great love and great happiness, there is a cost.”

“I’ve been thankful for every day I’ve had with you, Mom – I have no regrets. I guess I’m just selfish.”

“When we said our vows to each other, man to woman, husband to wife and mother to son, even though we never spoke about it openly, we knew a day of parting would come, and that I would most likely be the one who left you behind, Ricky. That’s the price, son. You have to stay behind and live without me.”

She then took my head in both hands and kissed me passionately. Looking me in the eyes fiercely, she said, “You can mourn me and miss me, lover – I expect that. But if you mope around, stop being a father and grandfather, I swear I will come back from the grave and absolutely kick your ass from here to hell and back.”

“Je comprends, mon général, ma mère,” I laughed.


Two weeks later, our time was over. Mercifully, things happened fairly quickly. We were eating breakfast together, going over our plans to open up the Maui house for the winter when Mom gasped and dropped her cup of tea, her face ashen.

“Mom! What is it? Are you okay?”

Her lips were faintly blue, a rictus of pain on her face.

“Something’s wrong, Ricky. I….I feel like I’m going to throw up and I can’t…I can’t…catch…my…breath..”

She then slumped in her chair and my world descended into utter chaos. I vaguely remember screaming for Jason and Fiona, the frantic call to 911 and the agony of waiting for EMS and the subsequent life flight to Vancouver General. Hours later, we finally arrived in the CCU. The cardiologist on call was kind but blunt. Yes, the heart attack was massive. No, there were no viable options to salvage the situation. Mom was awake and lucid, but terribly weak. Her nurse came out of the room, beckoning to me.

“She wants to speak to you, alone,” she stated. I stood, rooted to the spot, unable to process the enormity of the situation. The nurse took me by my elbow, gently guiding me to the doorway. “There’s probably not a lot of time, so you better not waste any,” she stated sympathetically.

She looked startlingly peaceful, slightly pale, still with a blue tint to her lips. She toyed with her oxygen cannula, adjusting its fit in her nostrils. I lowered the railings and sat at the side of the bed, taking her hands in mine. They were cold, very cold and I detected a faint tremor to them I had never before felt.

She took a deep breath and began to speak, going forward in fits and starts as she quickly ran out of breath, only able to say a few words at a time.

“I’ve already… told them…told them I don’t want anything done. This is my time and I know it in my heart. Remember…remember what I told you, my son…my love. You need… your family and they need you, now more than ever. Be each other’s strength. Never stop…never stop being… the good father and grandfather you already are.”

“There’s one more thing. After I’m gone, Deirdre is going to be staying with you, to make sure you’re okay. She’ll tell you about our agreement. Don’t turn her away. Promise me. It’s important.”

I was somewhat baffled by Mom’s request, not having any idea what she was driving at. We had gone over things like estate planning in the past and I had thought that we were pretty much on the same page. Perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly, watching my love slip away from me, but she was insistent in a way I had never seen before, so eventually I agreed, still perplexed.

“Good. Remember Ricky, no regrets. I’ve been blessed as few women are ever blessed. I’ve been able to live to the end with the love of my life. It’s all I could ever have dreamed of. I am content.”

I choked back a sob.

“I’ll see the others…see the others now.”


The details of calling hours, the funeral and the memorial service still remain a disjointed mosaic of fragmentary impressions and searing pain. Jason, Fiona and Anna Marie handled all of the arrangements. Deirdre spent nearly every waking hour at my side and was a pillar of strength for me.

Gradually, the sharp agony of loss faded into a dull, relentless heartache. Those times when I was with family were good, keeping my darker moods at bay, but I often found myself standing alone with my recollections, overlooking our cove, remembering my first prescient dream of our time there. Most of the time, I felt entirely outside myself, as though watching life unfolding like a distant performance, seen from a far away balcony.

I knew that everyone was looking out for me, making sure to keep me busy and engaged, hoping to keep me looking forward. There were times when I felt grateful for their concern, but just as often, I almost resented the relentless efforts to cheer me up, wanting to be left alone with my thoughts and memories.

It was there, at the shore in “one of those moods,” that Dee Dee found me, lost in brown study.

“Daddy! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she exclaimed with a mixture of reproach and relief. “We’ve been worried – you never came home for lunch.”

“Sorry kiddo. I was lost in thought, I guess.”

“You’ve been out here for over 3 hours, you know.”

“That long?”

She sighed as she took my hand and led me back up the path. “I think you’re beset by memory here, poppa. Why don’t you take a break and go to Maui for a while? I’ll come with you.”

“You’ve been away long enough from your own work, Dee Dee. Lord knows how I would have survived these past 2 months without you, but really, I’ll be okay.”

“Actually, it’s already too late,” she said with a sly grin. “I booked 2 first class tickets to Kahului this morning. The flight is at 9 am, day after tomorrow. We’ll open up the cottage together. There’s a ton of stuff to do and with two, it’ll be much more pleasant. As for my work, rank hath its privileges. What good is it being Chairman of your department if you can’t take some time off? I’ve been officially on compassionate leave, but last week I put in for a 6-month sabbatical. The dean has been after me for some time to do it – he knows that I’ve got 2 books that need finishing, so I can do that while you get settled.”

I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, daughter of mine. You’ve painted me into a corner, but you may be right about the change of scene. We’ll go home and pack now.”

As we sat around the table at dinner, Dee Dee announced our plans, to much general approval. I left the table in a rather curious frame of mind, however. I caught a number of veiled, significant glances exchanged between Jason, Fiona, Dee Dee and Anna. I had the distinct impression of a behind the scenes conspiracy of sorts and I felt distinctly managed, but went with the flow anyway.

Our flight from Vancouver was very enjoyable. We chatted at length about Dee Dee’s trials and tribulations as the first female chair of the Mathematics Department at her university and I found myself pleasantly diverted the entire time. I was struck by how much Deirdre was her mother’s daughter, both in mannerisms, personality and appearance. She had the same strawberry blonde hair, high cheekbones and jawline, but had my taller, slimmer and more athletic frame. She certainly had Mom’s drive and tenacity in spades and I was very impressed as she recounted the details of her rise in academia, something she had never really shared with us in any detail.

In due course, we landed and then arrived at the cottage. Getting everything ship shape took us the better part of five consecutive twelve-hour days and I noticed that the labor and long hours were tiring in a good way. It had been years since I had spent so much time with any of our children in such a fashion and I found the experience to be most pleasant.

It was at this juncture that I found myself sitting with Dee Dee in the lanai, watching the sunset and sharing a bottle of Pinot Grigio. We were buzzed from fatigue and the wine, slightly sleepy from our dinner.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Dee Dee?”

“As long as you don’t mind if I decline to answer, depending on the substance,” she replied.

“Fair enough. Mom and I always stayed out of your personal life, but I find myself wondering more and more these days. How is it that someone as talented, beautiful and intelligent as you has never found a…ahem, life partner?”

“That was very deftly phrased, Daddy,” she replied with a wry smile.

“I’m sincerely curious. It has become very evident to me over the past weeks that there’s no good reason why you should be lacking in companionship. It’s a bit of mystery to your old, stick-in-the-mud dad.”

“I’ve had a few serious relationships over the years, Daddy. Mostly with men, but several with women as well,” she said easily. “Does it shock you that I’m bisexual?”

“Hardly, Dee. Like mother, like daughter,” I chuckled wryly.

“Daddy! Um…really?”

“Yup. I’m surprised she never told you. The two of you were always pretty close, especially as you grew up more. Anyway, it wasn’t a huge deal – it was only with one person.”

“Wow, Dad. I really had no idea, not the least inkling. Who was it – no wait, let me think about this for a minute.”

As she sat back in her chair, Dee stared intently into her wine glass, swirling the dregs absently as she concentrated, clearly processing some old memories. After a few minutes, she sat bolt upright, eyes opening widely in shock.

“My God. It was Aunt Gina, wasn’t it?”

“You always were a pretty good detective, daughter mine.”

“I should have figured that out ages ago. And Gina was the only one?”

“Yes. I don’t think Mom was, um, intrinsically attracted to women, it was more who Gina was. In a way, it was more about the person and not the gender, if that makes any sense. Gina and Mom had a spiritual connection, which led to uhh, physical things as well.”

“In any event, love is where you find it. Real, heart-stopping he-or-she’s The One kind of love is always worth looking for. Love is the one thing you should never, ever settle on. I was incredibly lucky that way,” I said wistfully.

“That’s why I’ve never married. I’m still looking, waiting,” she said seriously.

“Do you have any hope? You’re going to be 45 in a few months.”

She smiled enigmatically. “I have some real hopes, Daddy. Perhaps soon, actually. I hope you don’t mind if I defer any more comment on that. I’ll tell you more, gladly, when I know for sure.”

She shifted in her chair to look directly at me. “Not to change the subject too much, but do you remember my 18th birthday?”

“I’m not likely to ever forget it. It’s when we told you and Anna the true nature of Mom’s and my relationship. I was amazed at how well you handled it.”

“We had a lot of time to think about it. You see, I knew the truth already for over 2 years.”

I was thunderstruck. “How…what…you kept that secret?”

“Well, obviously I told Anna. We never had any secrets from each other. Jase was pretty much clueless, of course, and I didn’t see any need to muddy the waters that way.”

“How did you come to know?”

“Christmas Eve when I was 16.”


“Yes, I woke up around 1 am and went to the kitchen for a snack. I thought I heard something in the den.”

“Yeah, Mom and I were doing some last minute gift wrapping and we, well, uh, we got a little sidetracked, as I recall,” I said with a slight blush.

“I remember it like it was yesterday, Daddy. That night was probably the biggest emotional rollercoaster of my entire life. When I first saw you together, it was embarrassing and yucky. Kids usually can’t and don’t see their parents as sexual creatures.”

“At first, it was sort of like driving by a highway accident. I really didn’t want to see, but I couldn’t stop looking, either. After a little while, I sort of got drawn in. I could see the pleasure you gave each other, the hotness and the tenderness and playfulness, too. It was strangely compelling.”

“But then, there was one point where everything changed. Mom was, uhm, kneeling in front of you, uhm, you know, uhm, sucking you,” DeeDee blushed deeply, pausing for a moment, unable to continue as she remembered.

“And…” I prompted.

“And then you spoke to her. Something like, ‘God Mom, you suck my cock so good…’” DeeDee colored up again and swallowed, letting out a long sigh.

“I almost threw up at that moment. As much as I wanted to be sick, though, I was even more angry. How could you guys keep a secret like that from us? If you were mother and son, what did that make me, or Anna, or Jase? I wanted to stomp down those stairs and pull you apart. I wanted to smack both of you senseless for doing something so horrible to each other…and to me.”

“God, Daddy,” she whispered, her eyes brimming as she recalled the scene. “I lived and died a thousand deaths in the first few minutes after I heard what you said to Mom. I just sat there on the steps and quietly cried my eyes out. Everything I thought I knew about my world went up in smoke. I didn’t know who or what I was, if you or Mom loved me still, or even ever loved me at all. I wanted to die.”

“But still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the two of you. There was something about the way you were together, it was…somehow compelling in a very strange, unexpected way. And then…as I watched more, then…I started to get turned on. God, if I felt bad before, now it was a hundred times worse. I thought I was going to go mad. How could I be so repelled, so drawn in, so angry, guilty and turned on, all at the same time? I felt like I was ready to scream, cry, die of shame and cum all at the same time.”

“We never sensed that you were there, Dee. Not for a moment,” I said quietly.

“That doesn’t surprise me, Daddy,” she chuckled drily. “You were flat on your back, sucking Mom’s breasts while she rode you. Her head was thrown back and both of you were totally in the moment.”

“It was then that I felt Anna’s hand on my shoulder. She had gotten up to see where I was and found me on the stairs. She’d been there almost as long as I had.”

“She said to leave you two alone, just to be quiet and watch. You see, neither of us had ever seen anyone having sex before.”

“We sat at the top of the stairs and watched the two of you make love for at least another half hour. I remember gradually becoming more and more excited to watch it, sneakily touching myself just a little, not feeling guilty any more, with Anna squeezing my other hand, keeping me in place. But mostly what I remember now was how you gave yourselves to each other. Looking back on it now, it’s one of the most beautiful, joyous things I’ve ever seen. And when you called out to each other as you came together, as mother and son…it was, finally, a revelation. It put a stamp on my heart forever.”

Tears sprang to my eyes as Deirdre revealed her thoughts to me. “Sweetheart, I had no idea. All those years, by yourself, waiting…because of us?”

“I don’t feel the least bit deprived, Daddy. I’ve lived my life on my terms. I’ve taken more than a few wonderful men and women into my bed and enjoyed every minute of it, so don’t you get all guilty on me, thinking that seeing you and Mom make love warped or ruined me somehow. I won’t stand for it,” she concluded defiantly.

“Okay, D, you win,” I grimaced, waving my napkin in mock surrender. “I’m curious, though. It must have been a lot to digest, what you two saw that night. How did you work through it?”

“It was very confusing at first. I guess I came to accept the truth of you and Mom, but I was extremely uncomfortable with the responsibility that came with knowing what I did, and for a while I was very angry that I had to carry that burden. I was sure that if I let something slip somehow, it would end up ruining our entire family. I blamed the both of you a bit, for allowing me to see you together. While I had somewhat come to terms with you and Mom being together, I was gradually starting to get more and more pissed off. I was working myself up to confront both of you, but Sis came to the rescue. It was Anna who got my thinking turned around.” She smiled and sighed. “Good old practical sister. She was unbelievably serene about all of it, except for the initial shock, which I think she was over in a few minutes.”

“What was it that she did?”

“Well, she could tell after a few days that it was really eating at me, so she sort of cornered me for a chat. She started out asking me who I knew among all of our friends who had the best parents with the happiest marriage. Of course, I had to admit, it was you and Mom. At that point she asked me “How can anyone argue against that? We should be so lucky in our own lives to find someone we love as much as they love each other. What Mom and Dad have together is nobody else’s damn business.”

Then she said it was a privilege to have the knowledge and not a cross to bear, as far as she was concerned. It was like she helped me flip a switch mentally, and from that point forward, I was cool with all of it. It was then that I swore two things to myself. I promised myself that I would not settle for any less love than that in my own life, and I also vowed that I would accept wherever and from whoever that love came from, if I was lucky enough to find it… and that I would never, ever have any regrets.”

“I’m glad you’re sharing this with me, D. We always worried a lot about how to cope with the dangers that were inherent in our relationship. We wanted to be as honest as possible with the three of you, but didn’t want to disclose anything before we thought you were ready.”

Deirdre smiled and hitched her chair closer to me and we sat in comfortable silence, watching downslope as night gradually and stealthily claimed the lands below us. The lights of Paia and Kahalui slowly bloomed into the dusk as we sat sipping the dregs of our wine. Dee Dee placed her hand on mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, intertwining our fingers, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Love you, Daddy.”

Once again I was struck by how much she reminded me of Mom, both in mannerisms and appearance. As these perceptions percolated their way into my subconscious, they triggered a rush of recollections, which cascaded through my mind like the flowing stream of a flash flood, scouring the dry riverbed of my grief. Snatches of sepia memory replayed themselves behind my eyes like a flickering silent film as I recalled my mother to life again.

I’m not sure exactly how the memories were resurrected, possibly by the presence of her surrogate, my daughter, but their clarity was breathtaking. They ran the gamut from us painting the soon-to-be bedroom of Dee Dee and Anna, daubing paint on each other and giggling like kids to the time we were on vacation together in Italy, just the two of us. I’ll never forget the nearly moonless evening as we were walking in the Pantera Contrada of Siena, on the western edge of that fabled city. It was less than a week after Il Palio and the town seemed practically empty by comparison with the preceding week. Cutting through a darkened alley, Mom stopped suddenly and pushed me into a doorway, completely shrouded in shadow. With no fanfare, she unbuckled my pants and proceeded to give me a toe-curling blow job.

Afterwards she said, simply, “Just because I can and just because I love my son,” then taking my hand and then leading me back to our pensione on wobbly knees.

Later that night, Deirdre came to me, slipping under the covers, naked.

“Daddy,” she said, “I’ve wanted you since forever, but I knew Momma was your one and only. She knew how I felt, because I told her when I was eighteen. I promised her that I would never do anything to hurt her or you, but I couldn’t help what I felt and that nothing was going to change that.”

She paused, her head on my shoulder and I could feel her tears, hot on my skin. I was struck speechless by the suddenness of events, unable to move a single muscle.

“Do you remember what Momma said, at the end? What she made you promise?”

“I do Dee Dee, I do, but what has that got to do with anything and why, why are you doing this?”

“That was my agreement with momma, Daddy, that I would take care of you after she was gone, loving you and looking after you, making sure that you were happy. She said nothing in the world mattered more to her than that.”

Running her hands on my chest, she kissed my cheek, her chin trembling.

“Daddy, please don’t turn me away. I’m here for you, for the rest of your life, if you’ll have me. Please, Daddy, please.”

Her hands traveled southward and my body betrayed me.


I’m very sleepy now. These recollections have taken more of my strength than I imagined. The things that happened between Deirdre and me, I’m not going to speak of. Not because I’m ashamed, because I’m not. Those chapters of my life have been lived honestly and openly and all I’ll say at this point is that I came to understand how difficult it was for Mom, at the beginning of our time together.

In any event, that’s not my story to tell, it’s Deirdre’s. What, if anything, is said about us and the life we shared after that night is for her to decide. Soon, I’ll be ashes scattered on the water of Hookipa Bay and it won’t matter at all to me, but Dee Dee still has years ahead of her and she should be the one who decides how the rest of this story unfolds.

I’m tired. It’s not the fatigue that comes with overexertion or sleep deprivation, but an ache, a strain deep in the core of my soul. I feel that in telling my tale, I have squeezed the last drops of vitality from my spirit and all that’s left now is the waiting.

The rest of the family should be arriving tomorrow afternoon, undoubtedly notified by my doctors that time is short and that this old buzzard is not long for this life. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight, as I feel that would be wasted time. All I’ll do is dream of Mom anyway, something likely to put me in a melancholy humor on the morrow. I would like to be calm and as cheerful as may be, since I will be seeing my first great-grandchild for the first time.

Jason and Fiona’s eldest, Marie is only twenty and has been a bit of a trial for her parents, but what can you do? Kids these days…In the end, I guess that one last appearance before the gathered tribes is in order. I’ll do my best to present myself agreeably.


The sunshine in the lanai feels wonderful today, warming my aching bones and loosening stiff joints. The up country air of Makawao agrees with me. I hear our children and grandchildren close at hand and I can smell the scent of plumeria and hibiscus from our gardens, lifted on the breeze. A cooling flow of air is rolling off the north slopes of Haleakala, mixing with the omnipresent trade winds, a balm for my parched skin.

I stopped eating and drinking 2 days ago, but curiously, there is no hunger or thirst. Perhaps more strangely, my pain is no longer a concern. I cannot tell if I actually hurt less or now just ignore what my body tries to tell me. Even more startling today is the absence of the ache in my heart that has been present every day for the past two decades. For the first time since that day, I am at peace. I am immersed in my environment, feeling, hearing, seeing and smelling everything around me, alert to the smallest detail, the subtlest nuance or variation in my surroundings. The afternoon sunlight seems lambent on my face as I close my eyes, suffused with a sensation of wholeness and almost breathless anticipation.

It is then I become aware of the scent of simple soap and sandalwood in the air. I feel her soft, smooth hand on mine.

“I’m here, Ricky, my love. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s time to come home to Mom.”

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