He was bright and perky, dressed in crisp clothes that Juliah had taken very special care to iron. His hair was still wet and he had combed them back nicely, a rather fresh departure from his schoolboy appearance of a few years back. His moustache was gone, though. I asked him what happened and he told me that he only had it to fool me on our first meeting. He didn’t really like to have one.
With the moustache gone, he looked somewhat like my son, even though many of his features were lost forever. That Adam’s apple was prominent, those shoulders were a lot more muscular, his face was more serious with his eyes set deeper than I remembered and his lips more chiselled. Gone was that boyish, naughty, playful smile and in its place was this deep, mysterious silence; an attractive feature in a man, but not in my son. I was having trouble putting the two together into one, as the reality was. I was only interested in mothering my child, not playing host to this newcomer.
I went to him and hugged him. I placed my arms around his waist and held him tight into me. I put my head on his chest and swayed with him. I said, “I missed you son. I really really did. I am so glad you are here now, to stay for a while.”
He put his arms around my shoulders and squeezed me hard. “I missed you too, mom. It is nice to be home.”
He tried to step aside and away from me, but I held on. “Let me keep you in my arms a little longer son, at least I can recover some of the time I wish I had held you.”
He squirmed trying to shift his body to a different angle, but I didn’t let him. He gave in after he realized that I was determined.
I inhaled some of his aroma as I pressed my cheek into him. My breasts were firmly stuck into his chest as my hands completely circled around his waist. I was holding him as tight as I could.
He squirmed again as he tried to change the angle of his body the other way this time. I said with mock anger, “Will you hold still son. I am trying to let you know how much I missed you. I am trying to dislodge the emptiness that I had felt these past few years because you were sent away against my will.”
“I know mom, I know. It is just that…”
I cut him short. “It is just nothing. I know you have grown a lot and I know you are a big man now, and I know I can’t force you to let me hold you, but…”
The remaining words got stuck in my throat as I realized that he really had grown, that he really was a big man. I realized why he was trying to shift his angle as I felt him poking me in the region of his birth.
There I was, nestled into him, holding on tight to keep him from getting out of my arms, and there he was, squirming, as his full erection pressed into me. I had a dilemma on my hands. I didn’t want to let go because I really wanted to hold him, but I couldn’t hold him like that, with his manhood knocking on my womanhood. I didn’t know what to do. On one hand, it probably was best to end that hug quickly. On the other, I had insisted so much on the hug that I felt it would embarrass him tremendously if I let his erection be the reason for stopping.