On top of her now, we were kissing with ever-increasing urgency. With one hand I was undoing the buttons on her pajama top. My knees were together, between her outstretched legs. Still clothed, we began to move our bodies rubbing our sex in instinctual simulated intercourse. I was caressing her breast through her bra, and she was lifting her knees toward our shoulders to increase our sexual contact and pleasure. Her moaning turned to whispered sentences and I could only make out a few words:
“Oh… oh… no… please… darling… my son… oh… don’t… please… mother… oh… Tommy… ahhh… remember the… we can’t… oh… wrong… I… oh… forgive me… cried every night… mmm… sin… beautiful child… only man… crossing a line… my life… love you… Tommy.”
Being the inept and totally inexperienced virgin, even through three layers of clothing the contact of my throbbing manhood on her sex was too much: I ejaculated into my briefs. I collapsed on top of Mom, rolled to her side and asked “Did I stop too soon?”
Of course I did.
“No Tommy, you were wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Please hold me.”
After a long while, she said “Tommy, we should get cleaned up, you first. Then we need to talk.”
This did not sound like it was going to end well.
After a quick shower I got back into bed and waited in total dread for what Mom was going to want to talk about. I had ruined everything by acting on my selfish sexual desires. I was greedy in my demands and needs. I took advantage of Mom’s good graces by pushing her too far, too fast. This would be the last time she would join me in bed. I knew I had screwed up big-time.
When Mom came back to bed we lay side by side, my left arm pulling her closely to me. She nuzzled into me and put her hand behind my head, pulling us closer. Reluctantly she began to speak.
“Tommy, I love you more than you’ll ever know. You are the only man in my life. After all we’ve been through, loving you so much, missing you for so long, worrying about you, and thinking that I had lost you… Tommy, I went completely over the line. I lost all control. I know I just acted like a slut but…”
A hand placed firmly over her mouth stifled all subsequent words. It was clearly time to test and define the new parameters of our relationship. Mom would not be harmed, but this needed to be done and it was going to be great theater. Releasing my hand from her mouth I rolled her on her back. Rising up, I positioned my knees beside her. Leaning imposingly over her delicate body my hands were on her wrists, pinning them to the sides of her head. Her eyes told me I had her full and undivided attention.
Releasing her left wrist I leaned back and with great fanfare ripped the patch off my eye. Placing my hand back on her wrist, staring into her eyes I mustered up my sternest look. Raising my voice to Mom for only the second time in my life I firmly pushed down on her wrists in cadence with each word.
“You… will… never… say… that… word… again!”