“You’re fucking perfect, Mum,” he informed me when he’d caught his breath again.
“And you’re goddamn incredible too, sweetheart.”
We lay there, motionless, as his cock slowly deflated and slipped out of me. It wasn’t long after that before I felt something I’d forgotten about – the leakage. An avalanche of my son’s semen spilled out of my vagina, down past my butt and onto the motel’s sheets. I’m sure that wouldn’t be the first time for that bed, I’m sure.
Once that happened, I suggested we shift slightly so we were lying on the bed properly. I can’t remember too much else from that night, so I’d say we both must’ve fallen asleep pretty quickly after that. As I drifted off to sleep with my son resting his head on my breasts, I remember thinking that, even though he was my son, everything we’d done just felt so wonderful and natural, I was amazed.
The next morning, however, those thoughts didn’t exactly hang around. I woke up in pretty much the same position we’d fallen asleep in – on my back, with my son’s face resting on my left breast. When he stirred soon after I’d woken up, I pretended to still be asleep. In hindsight, I really wish I hadn’t done that. He very carefully lifted himself up from my body and I listened as he crept around the room and gathered our clothes. He put mine in a pile on the bed and got changed after peeing. He’d closed the door, so I felt safe to get up and start getting dressed myself. I’d just pulled the day’s dress on when he emerged from the bathroom, and we both mumbled a “good morning”.
My good old friend Doubt once again filled my mind. Did he have regrets about last night? Was it my fault? Was I disappointing in some way? Probably came across as too desperate and too willing to break my marriage vows to my husband, let alone basic biology and human nature, and he was rightly disgusted with me. Or maybe he had no more use for me now that he’d gotten his way and had finally fucked me. I desperately wanted to ask him why we were being so damn awkward, but was too scared to find out the truth. Instead, we packed up the room in silence and resumed our road trip, for better or for worse.
It was close to two hours into the trip before Joel broke the silence. “Mum?” I visibly jumped at his voice, too lost in my own world staring out the window to realise he’d been trying to get my attention for a minute or so. “Oh, sorry for startling you. Um, about last night: I’m sorry.”
Bracing myself for the worst, I asked, “Sorry about what?”
“Sorry for the way I handled last night. I guess this morning I’m really just worried that you thought I just wanted you for your body, but honestly it really is more than that. I really am in love with you – you’re so kind and beautiful on the inside, too. You’re an amazing mother, but more importantly, you’re seriously an amazing woman and Dad is an idiot if he can’t see that. But I can see that and I’m so happy to be your son, and I really hope you didn’t think I was so shallow that I only find you beautiful on the outside.”
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