“Yeah, and as you can see, I’m still hard and ready to work on another.”
“Oh,” she said, a bit chagrined. “It’s just that once your father had his, he was through for the night. That’s just the way it was.”
“I’m going to be a better lover to you than he ever was,” I promised her. Her arms were still wrapped around my neck, so I slid a hand under her butt, then rolled to where she was on top. “Go ahead, Mom. Do as you like.” She began kissing me again, and soon her hips began moving ever-so-slowly. I could feel her tight, wet pussy working over my hard cock like nobody’s business, and it felt great. “Just like that, Mom,” I whispered to her. “Nice and slow.”
Over the next twenty minutes, Mom had two small orgasms, then another big one, and soon after I had my second of the night. She lay her head upon my chest and I held her there, and that is how we fell asleep.
The following morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. I did my morning necessaries, then made my way to the kitchen to see that Mom had made us BLTs for breakfast. I joined her at the table and she prayed before we began eating. Silence for almost two minutes, then she said, “I need to ask you about something.”
“Sure. Go ahead,” I said around a mouthful of food.
“You said something last night, Johnny, that got me to thinking.”
“What did I say?” I asked, immediately concerned. Did I say something wrong? Out of context? Something that should not have been said at all?
“Last night you made the statement, ‘as long as you let me, I’ll treat you like the lady you are.’ Did you mean that?”
Oh, I was relieved. “Why, sure,” I responded. “Why wouldn’t I have?”
“What would you say to moving back in?” she asked in way of a response. I looked at her with a curious, up-raised eyebrow. She continued. “This way, we could be together every night until … Well, you know …”
“Is that what you want, Mom? Would you like me to move back in with you?”
“As long as it wouldn’t be a burden on you,” she replied. “I mean, I am going to need help getting my affairs in order, and what-not. Besides, when I finally do pass on, you get the house anyway. We might as well start working toward that end as well.”
“I have some errands to run after breakfast,” I announced. “Let me mull this over, and when I get back, we’ll discuss it in depth, okay?”
“Good enough,” she said, and we ate the remainder of our food in silence.
I paid a couple of bills, went to the post office and dropped off a box to be shipped to my son in Albuquerque, and another for my daughter in Sioux Falls, then stopped by my friend Andy’s house to help him assemble a regulation-size pool table he purchased off eBay, then it was back to Mom’s house where, after a meal of her home-made pimento cheese and home-made chicken salad—not combined, but eaten with Crunchmaster crackers—we were finally able to talk, and we covered everything.
When I arrived back at my apartment complex, I went to the site manager and gave her my thirty-day notice. I explained to her that my mother had a year to live and I wanted to spend it with her. She termed this a special circumstance and let me out of my lease even though I still had five months left on it.
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