After parking my bike in the driveway behind the house, I proceeded to climb the tall wooden staircase leading to an enormous two-tiered deck. Just as I reached the top of the staircase the rustic aluminum storm door squeaked opened and Mom appeared.
“Hey sweetie,” she said, greeting me warmly with a hug.
“Hey Mom,” I said as we embraced. “Were you waiting impatiently by the door for me or what?”
“Ha ha. Funny, “she said sarcastically. “No, I was actually upstairs changing when I heard a loud motorcycle barreling down my driveway!”
We both laughed at her comment.
As I shut the door behind us, I’m ashamed to say that I couldn’t help but stare at Mom’s magnificent ass as it swayed in front of me. Believe it or not, even though she was fifty-six years old at the time, Mom still had a great body and didn’t look a day over 45. Although she is beautiful and has been blessed with a naturally tall and thin body, Mom’s best asset has always been her butt. As a matter of fact, if I’m being totally honest I have to admit that I’ve been obsessed with Mom’s ass since I was a teenager. Even though she has a thin frame and is somewhat flat chested, Mom’s hips are fairly wide and her butt has just enough padding that she doesn’t look too skinny. The thing I like most about her butt however is the fact that there is a large gap between her legs when she walks or bends over.
As I took a seat on the large leather sofa, Mom walked into the kitchen and asked if she could get me anything to eat or drink.
“I’d love a beer,” I said teasingly, knowing that my parents didn’t keep alcohol in the house. “I’m parched.”
You can imagine my surprise when she returned a few seconds later with a bottle of my favorite beer and a frosty mug.
Mom couldn’t help but notice the perplexed look on my face as she sat the beer down beside me.
“You and your brother left a few of these in fridge when you were here on Labor Day,” she said.
“Oh, okay. Gotcha.”
As I poured the beer into the mug I asked, “Aren’t you going to join me?”
“It’s a little early in the day for that, don’t ya think?”
“Nope. Not at all,” I said as I took my first swig of ice cold beer.
“Besides, you know I don’t drink beer.”
“I know. I was just teasing.” I said.
“But,” she said after a short pause, “If you twist my arm hard enough you might be able to talk me into having a glass of wine.”
“Since when do you keep wine around the house?” I asked.
“Since your sister left some in my fridge earlier in the week,” she quipped.
Without saying a word, I got up and went into the kitchen. As I opened the refrigerator door and removed the half empty bottle of red wine, Mom called out, “I was only kidding, Rob.”
Pretending not to hear her, I poured a glass of wine before walking back into the family room. Taking a seat next to her on the couch, I handed Mom the wine glass and then held out my mug so we could make a toast.
As our glasses clinked together Mom asked, “And what exactly are we toasting to?”
“To you,” I said. “The best mother a guy could ask for.”
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