Hoping I wouldn’t get an erection, or if I did mum wouldn’t notice it, I got on the bed beside her. The situation was not made any easier for me because I had to share the pillows, and that meant our shoulders were touching, and even that slight touch was sufficient to set my testes tingling.
Trying to distract myself and prevent the incipient erection from becoming full blown, I indicated the television and asked “Any good?”
Mother used the remote for a few moments to turn down the sound and explained, “It’s an old film, forties or fifties vintage I think. It’s about one of those private schools and one of the teachers who’s married to a woman much younger than himself. One of the senior students has fallen in love with her and she’s fallen in love with him.
Mother turned the sound up again and I settled to watch. It seemed that classes were over for the day and the students were streaming out of a building. The camera followed one particular student, a really handsome hunk. He headed away from the school and entered a wood with an impossibly idyllic stream running through it, and in a small glade he met a really good looking woman who looked to be in her thirties. She was wearing a white dress, organdie I think the material is called. The whiteness of the dress gave an air of innocence to what happened. I noticed that mum’s nightdress was white.
They lay down beside the stream and started to kiss, and he said, “If you love me you’ll let me do it.”
The woman smiled at him and stroked his hair, and then she started to pull her dress up, but in typical old movie style the scene faded out. It was nothing like the hot scenes you can see in movies now that leave nothing to the imagination, but somehow its understatement made it very erotic. That scene and mum’s closeness had brought on the erection I’d been trying to suppress and my jock was bulging.
“Do you think she let him do it?” Mum whispered; her lips very close to my ear.
“I should think so,” I replied.
Mother snuggled closer to me and one of her breasts was pressing against my bare arm.
“I hope she did let him make love with her,” mother said, “they were so much in love and you could see how much he needed her.”
The film continued, moving forward in time to a few years later. The boy, now a young man, was paying a visit to his old school and he meets the teacher whose wife the boy had loved. Enquiring about the teacher’s wife the teacher tells the now young man that they have been separated for some years. The film ended with the young man going off in search of the woman he had loved and most probably had sex with.
“Perhaps they made love and she got pregnant, and that’s why she broke up with her husband,” mum said wistfully. “It makes a lovely story. Just imagine, he finds her and she’s got a child and he knows it’s his. What do you think he would do?”
Mother’s imaginative extension beyond the end of the film had a certain allure, especially as one of the things I would have liked to do with mother was to make her pregnant, and when I come to think of it, the woman in the film did look a bit like mum; sort of pure in a sexy way, if such a mixture is possible.
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