My dreams or fantasies or nightmares, I wasn’t sure which, had the three of us in combinations that woke me up red faced… and sometimes sticky. My complicity in using her was disturbing to me even in a dream. Her mouth on him… on me… her legs spread… cocks finding their way into all her holes… pearly white by the corners of her lips… white on her breasts… white inside her.
When Christmas vacation rolled around, Paul stayed at college and for the first two days I debated calling him… or a doctor. My mother slept most of time in her clothes. She hardly ate or talked. I wondered how she had been functioning at school. I tried to get her to go to a movie or take a walk but she just wanted to stay in. Finally I told her that I was worried about her and I begged her to cut back on the pills. Finally she agreed, “Okay baby… for you… ” It took a couple of days but she did come back to some semblance of alertness.
One morning after forcing her to have breakfast with me I said, “Mom, I know what you do with Paul… I don’t know why.”
She didn’t blanch or get flustered; she just stared into the milk that was left in the cereal bowl and said slowly, “Oh… that’s nothing Tommy… Paul just likes to kiss… and it’s no big deal.”
“Mom, I know it’s not a big deal to him because it’s just a kick for him… but it should be a big deal… you should love somebody… it would be a big deal to me… a very big deal.”
“Oh sweetie” she said, “Is that what this is about?” She saw the answer in my face and she laughed and said, “You can kiss me too baby… it’s okay.”
I was torn. I wanted to go over to her but a part of me asked if she even knew what she was doing. I guess it’s not surprising which part of me responded. She sat on the stool at the breakfast bar and I walked up to her and kissed her with the kiss I had I been waiting to give her for… forever. My mother offered no resistance and kissed me back putting her arms around my neck and her soft tongue in my mouth.
We might have kissed until doomsday if the overwhelming urge to touch her didn’t move my hand. I reached into the robe and slid the bra strap off her shoulder taking the cup down in one motion. I lifted my mother’s heavy breast and pressed the nipple between my nervous fingers as I continued the kiss. I fondled and massaged the big tit, running my hand along the surprising up-tilt curve considering how full it was. I ran my fingertips down the top until my nails stimulated the nipple. Her response elongated the rubbery tip. She put her hand over my hardening bulge and held me in a warm caress.
I was afraid to take my lips off hers because I thought the world might end or worse, she’d never let me kiss or touch her again. I wanted to tell her I loved her but I didn’t want to stop kissing her. If nothing better would ever happen to me I thought I could live off that moment. Whatever happened later, shame… anger… recriminations… I still would know that I kissed her and she kissed me back.