I said, “After that mom, I do, I really do.” I lost count of how many times we made love that night.
Early the next morning as we held each other in the warm calm of our marital bed, I said, “Mom, I have a wedding present for you; I want you to stop working. ”
“And do what?” she said.
I said, “I don’t know, whatever makes you happy. Take care of the apartment and take care of us.”
“Can we afford it baby?”
I said, “We can more than afford it.”
“Oh God,” she said as I could see the emotion registering on her face. “I do hate that job.”
She hugged me and said, “Thank you honey, I can’t believe all that you’ve done, for me, and for us. But I didn’t think about presents; I didn’t get you anything.”
I said, “Of course you did, you gave me what I really wanted, you gave me you.”
She hesitated for a moment and I said, “Is anything wrong, mom?”
She said, “NO honey.” But it didn’t sound right so I pressed her. She said, “I don’t want to spoil what’s been the best night of my life. But I don’t want t start our life together without telling you everything. She hesitated before going on. “Baby, each time you were inside me, it was everything I could want, but after I came, I felt good, but at the same time I felt…guilty. I don’t know honey, I think it’ll just take a little time getting used to all of this. Then she kissed me and said, “Sweet Danny, yes, I will give you me and I’ll be a good wife for you.”
During the following months mom stayed home a lot and I was over at Carla’s for at least part of every weekday. I gave Carla her lessons three days a week and we went over the financials and portfolios every day. Not that we didn’t make mistakes, but the overall results were giving us a great living.
When I got home each day, sometimes mom was quiet and somewhat distant, but mostly it felt as if we were on a honeymoon, especially sexually. Not surprisingly, at my age, I had a hard-on for my mom almost all the time. Her appetite at least matched mine. I was never quite sure, where, or when, or how she would want sex. One day I came home and she called me to the kitchen. She said, “Well, what do you think?”
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to notice. There was music playing, and it was Mozart of course. I recognized the CD. I had bought it for her after mom said, “It would be lovely to hear you playing while we’re making love.” I laughed and told her I didn’t think I could manage both at once. Appropriately, the pianists name was Kissin.
So I said, “You mean the music? Very nice.”
She said, “Not the music, how do I look?”
I was lost. Her hair looked the same. She was wearing a thin knit top and I noticed she didn’t have a bra on, but that wasn’t unusual when she was at home. Her apron covered her skirt. So I just said, “You look cute, and sexy as always mom.”
She said, “I hoped you’d like my outfit.” She turned around and the skirt that I assumed was under the apron wasn’t there, only her bare beautiful ass was. She obviously had something very specific in mind concerning what she wanted and how she wanted it, because with her back to me, she put her leg up on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. That was an invitation I wasn’t going to pass on.