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Beyond the Borderline

By: CPBaudelaire



BEYOND THE BORDERLINE

By CPBAUDELAIRE Ⓒ

May not be reposted in whole or in part without express written consent of author. All rights reserved. Reproduction for profit is strictly prohibited. Posted exclusively on Literotica.

All characters having sex together are over 18 years of age.

Although drawn from my own experiences, this is a work of fiction. If you are offended by stories of incest between mothers and sons, you should skip this submission.

This is my first attempt at "creative" writing of any kind. I did not expect it to grow into this rather long tale, but as I developed the characters, it sort of took on a life of its own. Be warned, for those of you who like your mother-son stories short, sweet and steamy, this will not be your cup of tea, as there is a fairly long build up to consummation. Constructive criticism is most welcome, as I have a number of other ideas in various stages of gestation and hope to take the lessons I learn from my first "baby" forward with me as I continue to write. Some of the other projects are "spin-offs" from this one. Thanks for looking and I hope you enjoy the story.

Thanks to Larascasse for editorial assistance.

There's a place where I've been told
Every street is paved with gold
And it's just across the borderline
And when it's time to take your turn

Here's one lesson you must learn,
You could lose more than you'll ever hope to find....
But hope remains when pride is gone
And it keeps you moving on
Calling you across the borderline

Ry Cooder

© Ry Cooder/John Hiatt/James Dickinson



Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



May not be reposted in whole or in part without express written consent of author. All rights reserved. Reproduction for profit is strictly prohibited. Posted exclusively on Literotica.

All characters having sex together are over 18 years of age.

Although drawn from my own experiences, this is a work of fiction. If you are offended by stories of incest between mothers and sons, you should skip this submission.

This is the continuation of "Beyond the Borderline, Book 1," which should be read prior to this segment.

Thanks to LaRascasse for editorial assistance.

BOOK TWO

My heart was ready to explode and Mom looked like she was about to faint. I squeezed her hand reassuringly and got out of the car, shaking hands with Sam and the ADA. I helped Mom out of the car and we all walked into the house. I don't quite understand how I was holding things together, but I think it was because I could sense how close Mom was to losing it. I had to be there for her, so I sucked it up and did what I needed to do.

I went to the kitchen and got glasses of water for everyone. Sitting in the living room, I waited for Mr. Marquand to begin, certain my beautiful, perfect world was about to end. I was devastated, but determined not to give anyone the satisfaction of a reaction.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Marquand began. 

"I'm here as a matter of professional courtesy," he stated brusquely. "At the moment, this conversation is off the record. I will tell you frankly that if I had my way, we'd be downtown in an interrogation room right this minute. I'm meeting with you here, now, as a personal favor to Mr. Schiller. 

"But make no mistake," he warned, "If the answers I get from you today are not satisfactory, if I think you're holding out or evading me in any way, we WILL be taking that trip downtown immediately."

Pausing, the ADA looked at Mom intently and spoke again. " The District Attorney and the DEA are curious as to how you are acquainted with one Anton Dobriynin, otherwise known as 'Vanya.' You were seen during a surveillance operation of his place of business. You should know that Dobriynin is a known gangster, active in money laundering, drug running and human trafficking."

It took a moment for those words to register. DEA? What the fuck...? If the DEA was involved, then this had nothing to do with Mom and me. That meant that we were okay. We were okay! Hot damn, we were OKAY! I wanted to turn handsprings. I wanted to kiss Mom right in front of Sam and Mr.Marquand. I felt alive again for the first time in days.

The significance of the ADA's question wasn't lost on Mom either. She allowed herself a small smile and then relaxed, leaning back into her chair.

"A few weeks ago," she began with a deep breath, "I was contacted by a certain Mr. Washington, a potential new client for our firm. The services he required from us were potentially very lucrative for the firm, perhaps has much as 700 billable hours a year, probably around a quarter million dollars, annually. Naturally, I was interested, but there was something about the questions this man asked, something about how he conducted himself, that made me a bit nervous. I immediately discussed the situation with our senior partner and he agreed that before we took on Mr. Washington's business, that we should do some checking for our own protection."

"After that, I contracted Mr. Schiller's services to do some checking on our potential client. I contacted Mr. Washington and told him that we were willing to consider him, but that our usual policy was to discuss large, new contracts at the board level prior to formal acceptance. I told him that we would be doing so within the next few weeks and he seemed satisfied with that assurance."

"Subsequently, Sam was able to determine that there were...irregularities in Mr. Washington's background. Through Sam's contacts, we got information that the person we were interacting with was probably using an alias. We were doing the last bit of fact checking when Sam took us to Brighton Beach. He's the one who stumbled onto your presence there."

"Why was your son with you?" ADA Marquand asked pointedly. "He has no connection to any of this."

"It's true," I interrupted, "But I do know a bit about what's going on. How could I not, with Mom meeting with Sam several times at home? I wanted to be there to protect Mom. Sam wasn't happy about that, but I made him take me, against his better judgment. That's all on me. Knowing what I do now, I guess neither Mom or me had any business being there."

"I have a reputation for being thorough, Mr. Marquand," Mom added. "In retrospect, I probably had enough information to drop 'Mr. Washington' before then. Getting that last bit of intelligence was probably not a good idea. I hope we didn't compromise anything you're doing," she said contritely.

"Well," Mr. Marquand said heavily, "Nothing substantive, except about a hundred man-hours of extra investigative time checking you guys out, which I can't get back. Your appearance was unexpected and perplexing, but what you are saying jibes with what Sam has told us, along with the files Mr. Briggs turned over to us. My advice to you is to stay on your side of the street in the future, Ms. Lindermann. Corporate and criminal law are not things that someone in your position should try and mix. Once you were reasonably certain that 'Mr. Washington' was a dodgy character, you should have given us a head's up."

"I think it's safe to say I've learned my lesson," Mom smiled. "I don't plan on troubling you any further."

Mr. Marquand shook our hands briskly and departed, with Sam staying behind, explaining, "My car's around the corner."

Sitting heavily in our La-Z-Boy, Sam regarded us seriously.

"This is partly my fault. I should have done things differently, insulated both of you more from the process. Anyway," he concluded, "It's all behind us now."

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he produced two Canadian IDs. "I was able to get these done by a different route. They aren't as perfect as what I had originally planned, but they should pass muster," he concluded, handing them over.

My nom de deception was one Richard Lewis, of Selkirk, Manitoba, while Mom was Regina Worthington, from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. 

"I still don't know what your game is," Sam said quietly, "But I have an idea. I'm not sure I approve, but it's really none of my business. I'm not here to pass moral judgments. You're both good folks and entitled to your privacy, so we'll leave it at that and I'll say good bye."

With that, he rose and let himself out, slipping quietly out of our living room and lives, an enigmatic and inscrutable man to the last. We never heard from him again.

Mom and I simply sat on the sofa, numbed by the turn of events. I'm not sure how long we sat there in silence, perhaps a half hour. We were both exhausted at that point and good for absolutely nothing. Eventually we made it upstairs and into bed, just holding each other. Mom shivered in my arms for over an hour before she finally fell asleep and I wasn't much better off.

Around five in the morning, we both woke up and made love until sunrise. It was simple, joyous and cathartic, leaving us pleasantly drained but rejuvenated and finally purged of the toxic events of the past weeks.

***

Mom was subsequently able to back check our new IDs in her own fashion and pronounced them sound. Then we applied for my passport. Mom felt that she was unlikely to ever need her ID and simply put it away for safekeeping.

The day I finally got my passport, we heaved a huge, collective sigh of relief. To celebrate, we went out for dinner and dancing that evening, returning to the supper club where I took Mom for our first "date." Mom again wore her red sequined evening dress, while I was attired in slacks, tie and a blazer. As she descended the stairs to the living room, I let out a wolf whistle. "Mom, I can't get over how good that dress looks on you! I love everything about it and what's inside it."

Smiling wickedly, Mom slowly pirouetted in front of me. Abruptly, she bent slightly at the waist, thrusting her bottom towards me at the same time. She pulled the hem of her dress up to expose her silky red boy shorts and warbled, "Boo-boop-de-doop," in a high squeaky voice, doing her best Betty Boop imitation.

Gliding up to me, Mom stepped into my embrace, sliding her arms up my back and around my shoulders, rubbing her breasts against my chest. Tilting her head up, she gave me a lingering kiss to still my laughter, tongue dancing against mine as I responded in turn. "Mmmmm, thanks Ricky. I always like to look my best for you."

"Mom, if you wore a burlap sack and Depends, you'd still be the most gorgeous, sexy woman in the world." I dropped my hands to her ass giving each cheek a good, thorough groping. Reaching up under the hem of her dress, I stroked the crevice between her marvelous cheeks and slid my middle finger forward to lightly caress her slightly moist slit.

Batting my hand away with a laugh and a slight shudder, she chastised me, "Enough, you maniac! There's going to be order and sequence to this evening, young man. I am looking forward to Sorvino's veal piccata - it's almost as good as yours. I'm also looking forward very much to an evening of dancing with my handsome husband-son, so don't think you're going to distract me with your sweet words and roving hands. After that, then we'll fuck each other senseless, but not until then." 

"Ah, well" I conceded. "You can't blame a healthy, horny young fella for falling for your considerable charms though, can you?"

Linking her arm in mine, she steered us through the kitchen and into the garage. "Behave yourself and I'll share a surprise with you a little later," she said, as I handed her into the car.

Our drive to Sorvino's was uneventful, Mom snuggled under my arm, her hand casually resting on my thigh as we wound our way through the countryside to the supper club. She let her dress ride up as we drove, exposing an amazing pair of low rise, red satin boy shorts to match her dress. Catching me glancing at her crotch several times, she smiled and ruffled my hair. "Eyes on the road, lover. You'll get my goodies soon enough."

"Who's teasing who now, Mom?" I laughed, returning my concentration to the street.

Once we arrived, I handed the car off to the valet, who ogled Mom with ill-concealed lust as I helped her out of the car. Taking her arm in mine, I escorted her into lobby. "I don't think I'll tip that guy," I declared grumpily as we walked. "I don't like other men trying to look up your dress, although I suppose I can't blame him - you look ravishing this evening, Mom."

"My, my, aren't we the jealous one tonight," Mom teased. Her hand tightened on my arm and she pecked my cheek. "I like it, sweetheart."

As we approached the welcome podium, I sought out the Maître d', slipping him an Andy Jackson and requesting a secluded table. He was more than happy to comply, his eyes discretely but appreciatively flowing over Mom's form as he accepted my inducement. We ended up in a booth in the far corner of the dining room, essentially out of view from the other tables, but with clear access to the dance floor. When Mom slid into her seat, she opened her legs wide, giving me a huge beaver shot, as she grinned wickedly. The sight of her silky panties tightly stretched over her mons had me riveted to the spot. I could clearly see the outline of her labia, her curly pubes spilling out on either side of the small strip of cloth, a hint of dampness on the shiny fabric. I was fully erect in a flash.

"You're a sinful woman, teasing your date like that."

"A lady needs to keep her beau interested and attentive, though, don't you think?"

"Keep that up and 'interested and attentive' will turn into bending you over the table right now and boning you in front of the orchestra."

"I could always 'accidentally' spill a glass of ice water into your lap, if that would help."

"No thanks, I think I'll do my best to suffer in silence, " I retorted as I slid in next to Mom.

Slipping my arm around her shoulders, I kissed her cheek. "Shall I order a split of champagne to celebrate?"

"Nothing for me, love. I'm on the wagon for now."

Always slow on the uptake, I didn't understand why Mom would refuse, as champagne was one of her favorite tipples. A lack of comprehension must have been clear on my face, because she added, "I've been skipping breakfast this past week, because I've been pretty nauseous every morning."

Light slowly dawned on marble head and then it hit me like the proverbial runaway train. "Oh. My. God. You're pregnant? You're really, truly pregnant?"

"You're gonna be a poppa, Ricky," she said, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes.

Drawing her to me, I showered her with kisses, lips, cheeks, forehead and lips again. I started to get choked up myself. "Oh, Mom, I'm so happy! I love you so much!" I gripped her shoulders, staring at her, grinning like a fool. Taking her in my arms, I kissed her again, soundly, tenderly and passionately. She melted against me, lips parting, a soft moan escaping as our tongues found each other. Our embrace was interrupted by the waiter, diffidently clearing his throat. "Pardon me. Can I take your order?"

Somewhat miffed at his bad timing, I responded rather curtly, "Sorry, we haven't even looked at the menu yet. Can you give us a few more minutes?"

After the waiter departed somewhat huffily, I kissed Mom again. She snuggled against me, holding my hand. "You're truly happy, Ricky?"

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world," I whispered, my voice tight with emotion. "My beautiful mom is my lover, my woman and mother to our child. I can't imagine anything more wonderful."

"I went to see my OB this morning."

"Everything's okay?"

"Yes, Ricky, just fine. Dr. Stern was a little surprised I got the ball rolling so quickly, but I did tell her at my last visit that I had found my man and wanted a child with him. She did want to do an amniocentesis on account of my age, but that was one thing that definitely wasn't going to happen," Mom said flatly and decisively.

"I told her that we were carrying this pregnancy to term, and that our child would be loved as well as anyone could possibly do, regardless of any potential difficulties."

Mom then cast a slightly apprehensive look to me, asking, "You do feel that way don't you, Ricky? We are taking a risk, you know, actually a pretty big one if there is a problem with the baby."

"I know, Mom. We didn't really talk about it before, since we both wanted it. But yes, I have given it a lot of thought. I looked up a few things on the web, but a most of the genetic stuff was pretty technical. I didn't understand a lot of it, but the upshot was that there are some increased risks, but they aren't hugely elevated, just some. Mothers and sons and fathers and daughters have higher risks than brothers and sisters or cousins, but the odds still favor us."

"Bottom line, pretty lady, is that I'm with you all the way," I declared decisively. "I could never terminate one of our children, even if I knew there were going to be issues." 

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Ricky," Mom said with obvious relief. "I was pretty certain I knew how you felt, but I needed to hear it from you anyway." 

"Sooo, that being the case, I have another little surprise for you," she said, reaching for her purse. She pulled out a black and white Polaroid snapshot and placed it on the table between us. "This is from my ultrasound today. That gray, pear-shaped thing is my uterus. That little stripe in the center is the lining of the womb. See that little circle inside the lining, with the little squiggle in it? That's our child."

"Wow, that's so cool. What's that other thing next to it? It looks the same."

"That's our other child, Ricky."

I think if I hadn't been sitting down, I would have passed out. I knew we both wanted children very much and had been trying nearly every night (and some days too) to bring this about, but twins? I could only shake my head in wonderment. 

As we sat, holding hands and basking in the glow of our wonderful news, I leaned over to whisper in Mom's ear. "We've been fucking too much. If we hadn't been so horny all the time, we'd just have a simple, single pregnancy."

Mom laughed delightedly and elbowed me in the ribs. "What is this WE business? I'm a victim of your insatiable desire and perpetual erections. This is all your fault, you oversexed brute!" 

"Riiiight...and Anna Nicole Smith married J. Howard Marshall for love," I retorted.

"Anyway, you know very well that's not how it works. Besides, if your reasoning was correct, I'd have at least quadruplets, you randy boy!" Sidling closer to me, Mom ran her hand lightly over my crotch, giving me a gentle squeeze. "I'll give you fair warning, bucko. When I'm pregnant, I'm the insatiable one. I hope you can keep up with me. I'm going to need your fine cock at least twice a day when my hormones start ramping up."

Shivering briefly with anticipation, I changed the subject, gesturing to the menu. "Are you going to introduce the twins to the veal piccata?"

"You betcha. What about you?"

"I think I'll take your warning to heart and start with some carbohydrate loading. 'Linguine Tutto Mare' for me. How about we begin with some antipasti?"

"Perfect."

The meal progressed in leisurely fashion, Mom and I sitting close to one another, exchanging occasional caresses under the table and many sweet, lingering kisses. As we were enjoying our entrees, the band members and singer filed into the room and began preparing for the evening's music. I turned to Mom and took her hand. "Would the lovely lady care to dance?"

"Let me powder my nose first, darling. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, standing by our table waiting, I saw Mom walking towards me. Watching her stroll across the dance floor, I thought I detected a more than usual sensuous roll to her hips and a certain seductive quality to her gaze as she came towards me. I don't think I was imagining it, because she was turning heads among many of the other diners as she made her way to our table. I actually saw one beautiful brunette licking her lips as Mom went by her. When she reached me, she slipped her arms around me slowly bringing them up my back and around my shoulders. Squeezing me tight, she gave me a deep kiss, tongue lightly teasing mine. "Your mother is always ready to dance with her handsome son," she whispered in my ear. "You can have this dance and all the dances after this one, for the rest of my life, lover."

Taking both her hands in mine, I backed out onto the floor, drawing her with me. As the singer began, I knew immediately that we were in for a special evening. A statuesque black lady of around 50, dressed in a floor length, sapphire blue evening gown, she exuded class and sophistication and her opening number promised a wonderful evening's entertainment. Beginning with "Skylark," the Hoagy Carmichael/Johnny Mercer classic, she immediately reminded me of Dianne Reeves. "Skylark" became "Straighten Up and Fly Right," which in turn segued into "I Concentrate On You." Mom and I were lost in the music and wonderfully sung lyrics, slowly swaying with each other, in contact from thigh to shoulder as we moved. I was hard as a piece of rebar, but curiously, I really wasn't feeling any urgency about it. I was glad Mom could feel my excitement, but I was into the moment, holding her close, intoxicated by her presence and the familiar, comforting smell of soap and sandalwood. 

Slipping my hand from her back and placing it under her chin, I gently tilted her head to me for a kiss. "I love you so much, Mom. I never thought I could be any happier, now that we're together, but after today, knowing you're having our babies - I just don't have the words." She sighed and hugged me closer, resting her head on my chest. We floated along on our private cloud, savoring our closeness without words, our universe again collapsing down to just the two of us, caught in a timeless moment. We barely noticed when the band and singer took a break. Forty-five minutes had passed in the blink of an eye.




Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



Reluctantly making our way back to our table, we sat, holding hands. The remains of our entrees, now long cold, held no interest for us. Sighing, Mom snuggled up next to me. "I don't want the evening to end, Ricky." 

"Let's have a little dessert while the band breaks and then we'll dance the rest of the evening away, Mom."

"Nothing would make me happier, darling."

We shared an indecently delicious Zabaglione with fresh figs and honey-glazed chestnuts, the decadent and sensuous dessert whetting our appetite for more dancing. As we regained the dance floor, I drew Mom close, making sure she could feel my hardness as we swayed together. Discreetly slipping her hand between us, Mom lightly stroked me with her fingertips. "Mmmmmm, are you happy to be with me, son, or did you slip a cannoli in your pocket while I wasn't looking?"

"Well, it's not a cannoli, Mom, but it does have a creamy filling just for you," I whispered lewdly.

"Goody, more dessert. I can't wait." As she spoke, she maneuvered us towards the farthest, darkest corner of the dance floor. Taking my right hand, she placed it on her ass as she pressed even closer to me, canting her pelvis to rub against my hardness. As I caressed her marvelous bottom, it became apparent that she had taken off her panties.

"It looks like you did more than powder your nose, you naughty girl," I growled, as my cock surged in my pants. "I thought you wanted to dance the night away, dear lady. Do you intend to tease me the rest of the evening?"

"I want to be in your strong arms and next to your wonderful cock every minute, sweetheart. Besides, a little anticipation will make the main event that much sweeter, don't you think?"

"Well, I think two can play the teasing game, especially since I now have my 'all access pass,' " I whispered evilly. 

As I spoke I slowly lifted the back of her dress, taking care that I was between her and the rest of the room. Running my hand along the satin smoothness of the back of her thigh, I raised it to the soft, slightly puffy junction at the crease of her left cheek and then grazed my fingertips upward and inward until I encountered her damp heat. Lightly caressing her lips, I sought her dewy portal with my middle finger. She stiffened slightly as my digit wormed its way into her oily center, cooing into my ear. 

"God, Mom, you're soaking, so wet and hot," I whispered hoarsely.

Her breath catching in her throat, she murmured back, "You're being very naughty, young man, taking advantage of your mother this way. What if someone sees your finger in my pussy?"

"I think if you knew someone could see it, you'd come right on the spot, you shameless hussy."

"Mmmm, could be. I think I have a little exhibitionist streak, Ricky. I really turns me on doing this - I love feeling so naughty," she replied, thrusting herself back on my intruding digit. Her knees buckled slightly as she moved against me. "God, I love how you touch me, son," she groaned.

"You like naughty, Mother?" I rasped quietly. "I'll give you naughty." 

I moved my finger in and out of her vagina with several rapid strokes, causing her to gasp in pleasure, her arms tightening around my shoulders. Slowly, I inserted my finger as far as I could and then withdrew it slowly. Mom made a small murmur of protest as my fingertip departed her slit and then shivered, as I trailed it along her perineum, coming to rest against her rosebud.

Lightly pressing against her anus, just scratching the surface, I whispered to her. "What do you think the people here would say now, Mom? Bad enough that you let your son finger your pussy in public. What will they say when I stick it up your gorgeous asshole?" 

Mom's arms tightened around my shoulders and she brought her lips to my ear, whispering throatily, "My son fucks me. He's made me pregnant. His finger has already been in my cunt in public. What's a little cornholing on the dance floor after that?"

As she spoke, I began worming my finger into her tight, rubbery sphincter. Her eyes widened in surprise and pleasure and she jerked and grunted softly as I progressed up her back passage, burrowing her head against my shoulder. "I think I'll finger you this way until you come, dear Mother. No one can see what I'm doing. Do you want to come on my finger, Mom?" 

"Ohhh, god Ricky, what you do to me! It feels sooooo nasty, sooo gooood. I can't believe you're doing this, putting your finger in my bottom!"

Slightly raising the front hem of her dress, I slipped my knee between her legs, bringing her divine fulcrum into contact with my thigh. "I'll take that as a yes, my beautiful cum slut." I began moving my invading digit in earnest, continuing to describe how I thought the restaurant patrons would react if they could see us. 

"They'd love seeing you give your ass to your son, Mother dear. I bet the men would take out their cocks and stroke them, waiting for you to come, so they could spurt too. Then there's that lady with the long brown hair in the other booth. She was actually licking her lips when you walked back from the bathroom. Do you suppose she knew you'd taken you panties off for your horny son?"

Mom's breaths were now coming in short gasps as I thrust my finger in and out of her sweet back passage. She was grinding her dripping cunt against my thigh, her juices soaking through my slacks. "I bet that lady wants you as much as the men do, Mom." She gasped as I said this, arms tightening around my shoulders. 

Continuing, I teased her some more. "I think she'd play with herself too, as she watched me finger your asshole. I bet she'd sit at the edge of her booth and pull her skirt right up to her waist. Then she'd pull her panties to one side and stick her fingers into her cunt. She'd be absolutely dripping, looking at us. Then she might decide to stick a finger up her own ass, to feel just what you're feeling right now," I hissed.

With those last words, Mom exploded, arms clutching me tightly, grunting as her rectum contracting around my finger like an elastic nutcracker. She finished her cum rocking her pelvis in short, jerky strokes against my thigh, saturating the fabric of my slacks. She moaned and bit my shoulder through my blazer, her legs going almost completely limp. With her clinging to my shoulders, her entire dead weight threatened to topple me, but I managed to maintain our balance, carefully holding her up as I moved us back to our booth. 

Gently depositing her in her seat, I moved next to her, taking her into my arms. Her breathing was still ragged and her eyes were hooded with lust. Her thighs were damp with her spending, her brow glowing with a light sheen of perspiration and she gave an involuntary tremor from time to time. In her post-orgasmic state, she was unbelievably gorgeous, a perfect carnal vision. Once again, my heart nearly burst with my love for her. 

I stroked her hair and face, occasionally kissing her while whispering sweet endearments in her ear, as she gradually recovered her composure. As she came back into focus, she looked at me in incredulity, struggling to find her voice.

"Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. You are such a baaaad young man, talking to your Mommy that way. Those things you said, my God! I could have come just from your words, let alone those wonderful, nasty fingers. I think that was the most wicked thing I've done in my entire life!"

"Do you know the best part, Mom? No one else in the entire restaurant had a clue." I paused to take a sip from my water glass. "Ready for some more dancing?" I teased.

"Are you out of your mind, Ricky? After that last stunt, if you get me out there again, I'll end up doing a reverse cowgirl on you in the middle of the floor, audience be damned!"

"That would be so hot, Mom, but might be a just little 'over the top'," I quipped.

Mom snorted in amusement at my bad pun and snuggled in closer to me, her hand gliding over my aching crotch as she whispered. "It's time to take your mom home and fuck her, darling. If I don't get you inside me soon, I'm gonna scream."

"Mmm, I like that thought, but I don't think I'm just going to fuck my Mom, though. I think I'm going to make love all night to the mother of my children. Either way though, when I'm through, you'll know how much I love you, Mom." 

"You're such a sweet talker, you know that? Just one thing, though, what do you mean when you're through with me? Is that a challenge?"

"The gauntlet has been cast, dear Mother. We'll see who keeps up with who tonight, that's a promise."

I slapped my money down on the table and we hustled out to the front entrance. It was all we could do to keep from fucking each other in the entryway. The valet seemed to take forever and when he arrived, I fairly threw a couple of bills at him as we hustled into the car. I might have tipped him two bucks or two hundred, I simply don't remember. 

The trip home from Sorvino's was incendiary. The minute we pulled away, Mom had her skirt up around her waist, fully exposing her womanhood. I don't know if it was our escapade on the dance floor, the knowledge that Mom was now carrying our children, or both, but we couldn't take our hands off of each other on the way back. I had my fingers in her sopping pussy in about 2 seconds flat. 

By the time we were back on the outskirts of our town, Mom's breasts were bare and flashing in the moonlight as she sucked my cock and simultaneously fingered herself. The interior of the car was thick with the aroma of her arousal. I couldn't take any more and was afraid I was going to wreck the car and kill us both. I pulled into the darkened corner of a Tops supermarket parking lot just before I blew my load into Mom's waiting mouth.

Catching my breath, I shuddered as Mom continued to lick my cock clean, the head exquisitely sensitive. "God, Mom, you do me so good," I sighed. "Your mouth is incredible." 

Mom lifted her head from my crotch, a small pearl of cum on her chin as she smiled at me. She placed her hands around my neck and drew me to her for a passionate, tongue-lashing kiss, sharing my taste with me. "We need to get home now, darling. If we don't get to our bed in 5 minutes, I won't be responsible for my actions – and the best criminal attorney in the world won't be able to save me."

Mom never bothered to put herself back together as we drove the final miles to our house. Had anyone looked into the car, they would have seen my mother in all her bare-breasted glory, nipples erect and chest flushed with all-consuming arousal. As we made our way home, she idly stroked her nether lips, occasionally inserting her finger and then feeding her nectar to me as we drove.

Fortunately, our often balky garage door opener worked perfectly in our time of need. By the time it was shut behind us, we were all over each other again, virtually tearing our remaining clothes off of each other, leaving a trail of cum-stained and sweaty garments behind us as we stumbled to our bedroom. 

Once in our room, Mom wasted no time on preliminaries. Pushing me onto my back on the bed, she straddled my hips and took me in her hand, swabbing my glans through her lips several times and then impaling herself on my hardness in one plunge, groaning as I split her steaming, oily center. "Oh yes, son, so nice, Ricky."

You would think that after fucking our brains out continuously for weeks that we might have slowed down just a little bit, but we were still on fire for each other. I was absolutely stupefied by how much she turned me on. 

Every inch of her skin, her nipples, the swell of her breasts, their mesmerizing pendulous movements as she rode me, the glorious golden reddish color of her thatch, the small involuntary moans as she moved up and down on my cock, the sheen of her juice on my shaft, her flashing eyes and lustful smile as she looked down at me, they all excited me beyond measure. She was everything I would ever desire, Eurydice, Helen of Troy, Madame de Pompadour, Isolde, Josephine Baker, Guinevere, Aspasia, Lola Montez and Marilyn Monroe all rolled into one package, but most of all, above all else, she was my Mom. I'd never, ever get enough of her.

As she moved herself on me, she threw her head back, hands scrabbling on my chest as she grunted with each downward plunge onto my waiting shaft. "Unnhhh. God, Ricky, your cock feels so good. Unnhhh. I love how you feel inside me. Unnhhh. So hard. Unnhhhh! So deeeeep! Unhhh!"

She gradually leaned forward, dipping her chest towards my own torso. With each movement, her stiffened nipples would scrape across my chest, driving me wild. As she would slide back down to my root, she mashed her sex against me in a dragging motion, stimulating her clit. Gradually, her pace increased, her hoarse endearments morphing into incoherent moans and sibilant sighs. Soon, she was riding me so rapidly I gave up trying to synchronize with her movements, letting her pound herself to glory. Very shortly, her eyes rolled back into her head and she slammed herself down on me, grinding so ferociously I thought she would push me through the mattress. Letting out a groan of inarticulate pleasure, she collapsed onto my chest, breathing in agonized gasps, our love sweat mingling, her arms and legs sporadically twitching.

It had taken all my effort not to climax with her as I felt her contracting around my own aroused flesh, but somehow I managed to hold off, reminding myself that I wanted to be the one doing the wearing out this evening. I think I must have bitten the inside of my cheek to distract myself, because I could taste blood on my tongue. Holding Mom close, I stroked her back and sides, kissing her gently as she slowly returned to reality.

"Ahh, Ricky, that was soooo good! Two months together and you've ruined me - nobody makes love to a mother like her son can."

I kissed her and brushed her hair from her forehead. "There's nothing in the whole world I like more than giving you pleasure, Mom. It's what I live for. I can't believe how lucky we are."

"Believe it, lover. As ecstatically happy as you've made me these past weeks, now I've gotten the best gift you could ever possibly give me, Ricky. Whenever I look at our children, I'll see us; our love, our dreams and our future. There's nothing that can top that."

"Well, I hope I can muster at least a few surprises for my mother-lover as time goes by."

"You're already the biggest surprise of my life, my lovely son. I love you so much, Ricky," she said, eyes moistening. "Woman to man, wife to husband and most specially and deeply, mother to son. I need you more than my next breath."

I smiled and kissed her soundly. "I'm glad the lady of the house finds my service satisfactory. I do aim to please."

She laughed and tweaked my nose. "You're incorrigible, you know that? Now, let me up - I need to pee. After that, I have another surprise for you."

She walked into the bathroom, hips swaying, thighs slick with juice and ass cheeks dimpling. I heard the rushing tinkle of her water in the toilet and then the sounds of rummaging in her medicine cabinet. She returned after another minute or so. My curiosity definitely piqued, I watched her expectantly as she came back into our bedroom, hands behind her back. 

Blushing slightly, she gazed at me affectionately and cleared her throat hesitantly. "Ricky, son, I have a gift I want to give you. I've been saving it since our first night together. It's something special that I've never given to anyone else and I want you to have it." 

Mom had joined me on the bed, looking at me nervously. Taking my hand, she pressed a small bottle into my palm. Glancing downward, the name on the label did not register at first. Then, I finally processed what I was looking at. "Astroglide." I was truly taken aback, hardly daring to believe what she was trying to tell me.

"Jesus, Mom - do you really mean it? Are you sure about this?"

Gulping once, she nodded. "It's yours, sweetheart. I want you to have it all, every part of me. I won't deny you anything, ever. I want you to have it. God help me, Ricky, I want you to fuck my ass."

My own throat suddenly dry, I could only nod.

"Ricky, you have no idea how much it meant to me to know I was your first, that you saved yourself for me. I'll treasure that as long as I live. Now it's my turn to return the favor."

"I'll be really, really careful Mom. I'd never do anything to hurt you. I want you to love this too. Are you really sure?"

"I know you will, sweetheart. But yes, I'm absolutely sure - I trust you completely. I love your fingers and tongue back there already. I think I'll like your cock even more."

Crawling up next to me, she got on her hands and knees, lowering her shoulders and head on the pillows. Moving behind her, I placed myself between her legs. I began to gently caress and kiss her wonderful, taut moons, drawing a slight moan from her as I worshiped her amazing ass. "Ahhh, Mom - you are so beautiful, so sexy," I sighed.

Exhaling as I went, blowing warm air over her crevice, I slowly trailed my tongue down her crack, pausing from time to time to lick and kiss her cheeks, occasionally scraping my teeth lightly over her amazing globes. As I slowly worked my way to her pucker, she shivered slightly. 

Finally, I was there. I gently spread her cheeks and began with the lightest kisses, barely grazing her sweet rosebud. Teasing her perineum with my tongue, I traced back to skirt the edges of her pink crinkle, never quite dipping in, while I pulled and stretched her buttocks, causing her anus to slightly open and close as I spread her with my hands. 

Mom cooed and sighed as I continued, slightly pushing herself back to my face, trying to capture my tongue. Lifting my head slightly, I placed my tongue at the top of the divine valley between her cheeks and slowly trailed downwards, Mom shuddering and sighing as I went. When I reached her forbidden hole, I pulled her cheeks apart and stabbed firmly with my tongue, swirling as I pushed into her back passage.

Mom jerked at my oral invasion and moaned. "Oh God," she groaned. "Why do I like your tongue there so much?"

Pausing for a moment, I grabbed the lube and squirted some on her crack, letting it slowly trickle down to her little pink star. Putting my hand on her ass, with my fingers pointing to the floor, I placed my middle finger in her crevice and slowly moved downward, coating it with lube. When I reached her back door, I slowly pressed inward. 

"Ahh, that feels so nasty, so good, baby."

Gently moving inward, I began to press around her outer edges, lightly stretching as I moved in and out. Mom responded with a throaty moan. Gathering more lube, I ran the liquid down her crack again and onto my fingers. I then slowly added a second finger, gradually easing it into her ass over the course of a couple minutes. Mom sighed and groaned again when I had both fingers fully in her butt. Slowly, cautiously, I began to move in and out, gradually adding a stretching movement to my thrusts. Mom was now moaning with each thrust, starting to move herself back against my hand, increasing the force of my naughty invasion of her most private place.

Stroking her back with my other hand and kissing her shoulder, I whispered into her ear. "Are you ready, Mother?"

Fully immersed in the forbidden sensations, she could only moan and nod her head once.

Pulling my fingers out, I could see she remained open to me, small, involuntary contractions causing her hole to slightly widen and narrow as she awaited my entry.

Crouching behind her, I lubed my cock. Mom shuddered and moaned again when I squirted a generous dollop into the nickel-sized cavern I had worked open. Carefully placing myself at her crinkle, I brought only the slightest pressure to bear. Caressing her back and sides again, I bent forward next to ear. "Relax and push yourself onto me, Mom. I'm going to let you take me at your own pace."




Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



Shuddering, she nodded jerkily and began to push backwards. I felt the pressure build against the resistance of her ass. Mom was holding her breath, quivering and biting her lip as she strained to let me in. Again caressing her lightly, I whispered "It's okay, Mom. Just relax. Take some slow, deep breaths. There's no hurry," I soothed.

As she calmed down, I continued to touch her gently, simply stroking my hands up and down her back and sides, murmuring encouragement. Then quickly, it was over, Mom wincing slightly as my head slipped past her sphincter.

The sensation was indescribable, incredible searing heat, even more than her glorious cunt, but also an amazing tightness beyond anything I had ever experienced. I don't think I could have fisted my cock any harder than Mom's ass was gripping me. It was all I could do to hold still, waiting for her to accommodate me.

She was breathing in deep gasps, trembling a little bit as she adjusted to my presence. Bending over her back to kiss her spine, I caressed her sides again. "Don't do anything until you're ready, Mom. Go as slow as you need to. I won't move unless you tell me to. We can stop any time you want."

Still breathing deeply, she shook her head, biting her lip. Ever so slowly, she began to push back, millimeter by millimeter. It took about two minutes, but finally, I was buried to the root in her gorgeous, amazing ass, realizing one of my fondest dreams and biggest fantasies. "Oh my God Mom, you feel amazing- so hot, so tight!" I gasped. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, baby, it's unbelievable! Ahhhhh, I feel so full, so stretched...I had no idea it would be like this. It hurts just a little, but even that feels so good!"

"Are you ready?"

Mom reached back with one of her hands and took mine, giving it a squeeze. "I'm ready, lover. It's time to fuck your mother's ass."

I began to gently move, keeping very slow, steady strokes as Mom got used to the motion. Within a minute she was moving with me, giving out a low, primitive grunt each time I bottomed out, a sound I had never heard her make before.

"Oh fuck, lover! Oh Jesus, it's incredible! My God! My God!" 

The sensations I was experiencing were so amazing I could barely focus. I was overwhelmed by her heat, the tightness, the incredible noises she was making, the sheer lewdness of the act we were performing. I was fucking my mother's ass! I was balls deep in her and she was loving it! All I could do was moan over and over again.

"Oh Mom, oh Mom! Oh my God, Mom! MOM!"

I couldn't help myself; I began to pick up my pace, putting more power into my thrusts as I started to feel the beginnings of an absolutely monstrous come building in my loins. When I changed my rhythm to pull out completely with each cycle of penetration, grinding tightly against her at the bottom of each stroke, Mom went absolutely wild. 

"Oh shit, Ricky! Unnghh! Oh my god! Fuck me baby! Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Fuck it!" she moaned, burying her face in her pillow. "Fuck it! Fuuck it! Fuuucckkkkk!!!"

It was all too much for me. My orgasm shook me like a sonic boom. "Oh God! Oh GOD! Cumming! Cumming, Mommmm!" I roared.

As I sprayed myself into her entrails, Mom's head jerked off the pillow and she arched her back, unleashing a stentorian bellow as she reached her own peak. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! OH SHIT! SO GOOD RICKY! CUMMING, SON! MOMMY'S CUMMING! OHGOD! OHGOD! SWEEETJEEESUS!"

As I was spending myself, Mom's climax made her ass contract around my meat like a velvet vise grip, bringing me to a completely shattering peak. I lost all track of time and place, because the next thing I remember is being draped over Mom's back, pressing her flat into the bed. My cock was still twitching randomly, dribbling out the final dregs of my cum into her clinging rectum. My body shook as though a Taiko drummer had set up shop inside my chest, my breath coming in great, ragged gasps as I struggled to reestablish my grip on reality. Mom was completely inert beneath me. I could still feel a few weak contractions of her ass around my cock as her orgasm slowly faded away.

I carefully rolled us over onto our sides, staying inside Mom, remaining tightly spooned up against her, hugging her close. A minute or two later, she finally stirred and I kissed the nape of her neck. "You okay, Mom? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Oh, my baby, my darling son, you were wonderful," Mom sighed. "That was amazing...I had no idea, not a clue how intense that was going to be. It felt like your cock reached to my tonsils, I was so wonderfully full! And when you came inside me, my god! It was heavenly, sweetheart."

"And you're feeling okay now?" I asked anxiously.

"Better than okay, dear heart. You were so gentle, so caring, it was perfect. I was pretty sure I was going to enjoy it, but it was much, much better than I thought it would be. You're a marvelous, sweet lover, son. I love you so much!"

"I'm so glad you liked it, Mom," I murmured into her hair. "It was incredible for me too. I came so hard I think I passed out for a minute."

"I hope you liked it as much as I did, sweetie, because Mommy is going to want to do this again...and again... and again!"

"Works for me, pretty lady."

Spooning up against me, Mom heaved a deep, contented sigh. "You know Ricky, I was ready to do this, knowing how much I like it when you lick and finger me, you know...back there, but I didn't expect to come from getting fucked in the ass. That was amazing and very unexpected; I just thought I was going to do something nice for my lovely son."

"I was surprised, too. You rattled the china with that one, Mom."

We lay together quietly, touching softly, Mom turning her head to share kisses with me as I slowly softened inside her, eventually squeezing out with a plop. She squealed as I left her. "My god, Ricky! What did you do to me? It feels like you put a quart of your stuff up my bottom! It's running all over the place!"

Looking down, I saw one of the most erotic sights I have ever beheld, then or in all the years since. Mom's thighs and buttocks were glistening with the lube we used. Her rosebud was red, still slightly open, streamers of my thick semen pulsing out and flowing over the curve of her buttock and onto our sheets. "My god, Mom! I can see it coming out of your ass - it looks sooooo hot! It's incredible. I wish you could see it."

I stayed spooned up next to her, wet spot be damned. We lay in silence, softly touching for some time. I suspect that we both more drained by the experience than we thought, because we fell asleep quickly, not waking until the next morning. So much for the "who's gonna out-fuck who" competition. 

***

As I was to come to find out, Mom's hormone-driven lust was awesome to behold. She left me in the dust as her pregnancy advanced, needing sex two, three or even four times in a day as her belly grew. She ran me delightfully ragged. On weekends, especially, it wouldn't be uncommon to wake up with Mom riding me. Another session might follow in the kitchen at lunch or even at breakfast. It didn't seem to matter what we did, Mom just needed cock constantly, and she didn't care what hole got stuffed. When she needed it, by God, she needed it NOW and there was going to be no dithering or delays. 

If I was lucky enough to catch a Saturday or Sunday nap on the couch, more often than not I would wake up with her dripping pussy rubbing on my face. Oh yes, another thing about being pregnant - her taste, my god, her taste. It was always ambrosial to me, but there was something about her now that seemed different. I don't know if it was real, or just my knowledge of her pregnancy, but somehow, she tasted more substantial, more flavorful than I could remember before. It was the difference between a great burger and prime rib. 

Even she would remark on the difference when we would kiss after I went down on her. Thank god I loved eating her out, because it was the only way I could keep her satiated sometimes. The thing was, even though Mom often pushed me to the limits of my sexual endurance, I loved every second of it. I don't know exactly how or why, but there was something about her being pregnant that put my dick and brain in overdrive. I had to have her all the time. I became absolutely consumed with fucking her, as if I wasn't already completely besotted by my gorgeous mother. It seemed as though if I didn't have her pussy plugged every minute, she wouldn't be pregnant any more. It was a magnificent, complete and total obsession.

The times when Mom was at work all day were often particularly memorable. On those occasions, her return home followed a fairly predictable pattern. She would arrive in the garage and close the door, emerging from the car with her panties in hand. I would meet her in the hallway connecting with the kitchen. My pants would come off in about one minute, and depending on the urgency, we might end up on the hallway floor, in the kitchen, or rarely, making it to the bedroom. Depending on her mood, I might get a whisker biscuit as my before-dinner appetizer in the kitchen, or something more exotic. 

I recall one day where she emerged from the garage actually naked from the waist down, her thighs glistening with arousal. Plastering herself against me, she whispered in my ear "I want you to love my bottom, right NOW, baby." She pulled my shorts off without ceremony and led me by my dick into the kitchen. Not wasting a moment, she rummaged in the pantry, pulling out a bottle for lubrication and bent over the kitchen table, lewdly spreading her cheeks with both hands. The irony of using "extra virgin" olive oil as I fucked her ass was not lost on me. But I digress.

***

We were so preoccupied with extinguishing the raging inferno between Mom's legs that the visit to Vancouver snuck up on us. Archibald MacLeish was as good as his word, setting us up with First Class tickets flying out of LaGuardia and a suite at the Fairmont Pacific Rim, with a magnificent view overlooking Coal Harbor, Stanley Park and the North Shore Mountains. I remember teasing Mom as we were riding in the van to the airport, breathing softly into her ear, "Are you going to be able to make it all the way to Vancouver without needing an orgasm?"

Mom smiled evilly and gripped my thigh. "Go ahead smart-ass, keep it up and I'll make you eat those words," she whispered back.

"Keeping things up is usually not a problem and I've already eaten everything else I can, so it shouldn't matter."

"That you have. I can't believe you had your head up my dress five minutes before the van arrived."

"There's always the mile high club, Mom."

"You are a very bad son, teasing your mother like this,"

I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close for a kiss. "I'll make it up to you with pleasure when we get to the hotel, my love."

"You're cruel, but for some strange reason I happen to love you, Ricky."

Our flight was pleasant and uneventful, but I did have a few things on my mind, which we talked about before we landed.

"Mom, are you worried about us, I mean me meeting Mr. MacLeish and the rest of the firm?"

"Absolutely not. Why? You worried about the age difference?"

"Well, yeah. I don't want anything to happen that might endanger your chances."

"I suppose if you did me by the punch bowl at the welcome party, that might have some adverse consequences, but otherwise no. You're a sweetheart for worrying about it, but I've made my choice. Everything else has become secondary to us being together, lover. Besides, now that you've grown out that goatee and mustache, you look quite a bit older."

"You really like it, Mom? I have to say it still feels a bit funny."

"You look like my dashing pirate, Ricky. It suits you down to the ground."

"If milady is happy, then I'm prepared to repel all boarders and tie this damsel to my mainmast."

"Now you're just being silly."

"Anyway, not to worry," she smiled, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "As far as Archie MacLeish is concerned, I'm moving to Vancouver with my significant other. I've told him I'm estranged from my only son, who I had at a young age. That's all there is to it."

We sat in silence for some time, Mom's hand on top of mine, lightly tracing over my fingers. Before long, we were on final approach and my face was glued to the window. For a kid from suburban New Jersey who was never much farther from home than the Adirondacks or Cape May, it was a revelation. Sitting on a large peninsula, the city laid jewel-like below us. The air was crystal clear and all of the features I had studied on maps before our flight were laid out before us as we turned through the approach pattern. I could see Burrard Inlet, Bowen Island, Vancouver Harbor, English Bay, Stanley Park, the tall downtown buildings, Canada Place and the beautiful mountains along the North Shore. 

"Wow, Mom, we're not in Kansas anymore."

"It's a far cry from Princeton Junction, isn't it?"

"I can't believe we're going to raise our family here. It's just about the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

A driver was waiting for us at baggage claim and we were whisked to our hotel suite in short order. The moment I had closed the door behind the bellhop, Mom pinned me against the entry wall with a searing kiss, frantically fumbling with my belt as we clinched, devouring each other with our tongues. While I pulled her dress up and cupped her ass cheeks, she shoved my pants and boxers down to my ankles and then squatted, pulling away from my hands. She took me into her mouth, hoovering me to an almost painfully full erection in about 30 seconds. 

Looking up to my face as she sucked, her eyes glinted mischievously as she smiled happily around my cock. All too soon, her skilled tongue and hands had me approaching the edge and I gently disengaged from her, taking her hands and guiding her to the bedroom. Still smiling wickedly, she paused and reached under her dress to pull off her panties, then pushing me onto my back as my knees came in contact with the bed. As I landed on my back, she hiked her skirt up above her hips to expose her hairy treasure and straddled me, working he way up my chest until her moist cunt was right above my face. Dropping her skirt to enfold me in aromatic darkness, she settled her flower onto my waiting tongue.

"Do what you do best, sweetheart," she cooed. "It's time to eat your Momma."

As Mom rode my lips, I grabbed her ass, kneading her cheeks, pulling them apart to expose her pucker and then pushing them back together, which drove her wild. I could tell she wasn't particularly interested in nuance or subtlety at this point, so I latched onto her clit and began sucking and tongue-lashing it ferociously. At the same time, I formed my hand into a "six pack grip" with my thumb and middle finger, firmly placing the thumb into her sopping channel. As she began to edge closer to her climax, I began using the middle finger to tease her anus, lightly scraping over the surface with my fingertip. This raised her arousal to an even higher plateau. When she started to buck and gasp, I roughly shoved my middle finger up her ass. With a keening wail, Mom craned her neck and arched her back, slamming down on my face with a drawn out groan, flooding my nose and lips with her essence.

Mom coming on my face is just about my favorite sexual experience, bar none. The sheer intimacy of the contact, the feeling of worshipful closeness and the incredible intensity of her orgasms when I eat her always make me feel incredibly close and connected to her. It's one of the best ways for me to let my beautiful lady know how much her son loves her, concentrating solely on her pleasure. Flowers for Mother's Day are just fine and dandy, but a big, juicy squirting cum on her son's tongue says 'I love you, Mom' like nothing else. When Mom climaxes in my mouth, it really gets my motor running too. I was immediately and ferociously turned on, ready to fuck the daylights out of her. 

Not even bothering with our clothes, I slid out from under her and turned her onto her stomach, roughly pulling her dress up over hips. I quickly jerked my slacks and boxers down to my knees, got onto my haunches and straddled her thighs, pushing them together as I mounted up over her ass. Pushing down from behind, I found her slit, forcing myself in quickly and sharply, drawing a guttural grunt of approval from her. While I can't get as much penetration from this position, I love the feeling of mastery and dominance of pinning Mom to the bed and really grinding it to her, especially watching her magnificent ass shiver and quake as I slam her like a jackhammer.

Mom was getting into it just as much as I was. She began meeting me with short, sharp lunges of her own, first pushing her pubes down into the mattress to stimulate her clit and then quickly rolling her hips back and up to meet my downward thrusts. When she started to get vocal, I knew I was in for a hell of a ride.

"Oh yeah, Ricky, that's it baby. Take me son! Do me hard!"

I slapped her ass hard, leaving a rosy palm print on her buttock.

"Fuck, yes! Slap me again, you bad motherfucker! Yeah! Fuck Mommy! Fuck your Mommy hard, baby!"

Growling, I began stroking into her even more intensely, adding a twisting motion to my thrusts, making her groan even more loudly.

"Ohhh, shit! That's so good, baby! Give me that cock! Shove it in my tight pussy. Yeah, put it to me, honey!"

I was dripping with sweat, pounding for all I was worth. I had never fucked her as hard as I was doing now, but the more I put into it, the more she wanted.

"C'mon, Ricky, fuck your mother. Give me all of your big cock, baby. Harder! Fuck me hard, son! Haaarrrder!" she hissed.

I was close, real close. I could tell by the way my balls were tightening, and the ache of my prostate that I was going to have a monster cum. I think Mom could sense from my breathing and rhythm that I was ready to explode.

"Are you gonna come, Ricky? Are you ready to squirt your hot baby juice in Momma's cunt? C'mon, baby, cum for your Mommy, cum for me now, lover! Squirt me honey! Squirt it in Mommy!"

That put me over the top. I released with a roar, crying out over and over as my climax blended with her own.

"Mom! Mom! Mom! MOOOOOMMMMMMM! Oh God! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!"

I felt like my cock had turned into a fire hose. I couldn't believe how much spunk I was spraying into Mom's cunt. I must have gone on shouting and squirting into her for twenty or thirty seconds, my pleasure incredibly prolonged. Finally, I felt as though I had shot my entire insides out through my cock and into her. I collapsed on to her back with a groan, shuddering and twitching uncontrollably. 

After several quiet minutes gradually catching my breath, I rolled us onto our sides, still spooned up against her, kissing her back and shoulders tenderly, whispering in her ear.

"Mom."

"Mmmmmmm, what is it, love?"

"That was unreal. You are so exciting, so damn sexy, I just can't believe how much you turn me on. You are a fucking goddess!"

"You're a darling boy. Is that a goddess of fucking, or just fucking as an adjective?"

"Both, I think."

"You say the sweetest things to your mother."

I squeezed her and kissed the nape of her neck. "I love you so much, Mom." 

I couldn't see, but I could sense her smile as she took my hand and kissed it.

I can't even begin to imagine being with any other woman besides Mom. I have to admit since she is my first and only lover, I have no basis of comparison, but whenever we're together, it's never less than fantastic. Every time, I seem to find out something new about her that excites me more than the last time or makes me feel even closer to her. It might be how she milks me with her muscles in a particular position one day, how her breasts gyrate when she rides me cowboy style, or something very simple, like how she smiles and puffs her bangs off her moist forehead, out of breath after a really vigorous, sweaty fuck. There's always something that makes me love her more every day we're with each other. And now, to be starting a new life together, far from discovery, free from needing to keep secrets every day, everything felt perfect.




Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



***

Before we left for our visit to Mom's new practice, I overheard a conversation she had with Marsh over coffee on a Monday morning. Mom and I had spent essentially the entire weekend in bed, making lots of love and just plain fucking the shit out of each other until we were exhausted. Marsh had just returned from a weekend visiting Shawn. I guess the two of them were comparing "son-notes" over latte. I quietly and discreetly parked myself outside the kitchen doorway, shamelessly eavesdropping.

Marsh began, teasing Mom. "You look a bit tired and frayed around the edges, Jen. It must have been a really good weekend."

Mom chuckled and gave back as good as she got. "I could say the same, skin sister. It looks like it hurts to sit down."

"God, you have no idea. For some reason, Shawn was totally fixated on my butt this visit. He fucked my ass three times yesterday, and I loved every second of it."

"Jesus, Marsh, you're a total maniac. I adore it when Ricky does me that way, but I don't know if I could stand up to that much pounding."

"Well, most of the time, Shawn is just so sweet, so tender it almost brings me to tears. But sometimes you know, a girl just likes to get down and be totally nasty," Marsh giggled. "This weekend, I really wanted to get thoroughly fucked, to be absolutely dominated for some reason. Totally giving myself to him like that was actually liberating, in a strange way. I felt like I was all cunt, ass and tits, just one huge erogenous zone. There was something about the role reversal that really got my juices flowing, Shawn becoming my badass, big-dick, dominating daddy."

"I know what you mean, Marsh. Ricky is almost telepathic that way. I hardly ever have to tell him how I want it. We're almost always in synch, and even if we're not on exactly the same page, he loves it when I tell him what I need." I heard her sigh deeply. "He's the best lover I've ever had, or ever will have."

I blushed so hard when I heard Mom say that, I thought that the glow would shine through the doorway and give my spying away. It also made me swell with tremendous pride, both above the neck and below the beltline.

"Amen to that, Jen. How did we get so lucky?"

Mom paused before replying, considering her words. "For me, it was because I was finally able to be totally honest with myself about my desires and being open to accepting the love that Ricky had for me for so many years. It was incredibly hard to do, so many feelings of horrible guilt and sin to overcome. I worried terribly about how it would affect him and our relationship. It took a long time to understand that it was all bound together and inseparable, both the mom-son thing and a man just loving a woman."

Mom laughed ruefully and added, "I practically drove that poor boy insane with my indecision. You know, from the first time I kissed him, I mean like I really meant it, to when I first let him touch me, uhmm, down there, it took over a month. Then the very next day, when he actually got assertive with me for the first time (that's when you almost discovered us), I chewed his poor head off and nearly ruined everything. Thank God I came to my senses after you talked with me. I should have known I was trying to control an essentially unstoppable event."

"Wow, I had no idea, Jen. I can't say I'm surprised though. It's such a deep-seated taboo, I think especially for someone like you, who was such a conscientious and loving Mom. I know you definitely did the right thing, though. You and Ricky are so beautiful together, so loving and so right for each other. It's a pure joy just to see the two of you side by side."

"Thanks, Marsh, but I don't know about conscientious. I think I first started thinking about Ricky, you know, that way, when he was still in high school. He's always been such a sweet boy and pretty hunky too," Mom giggled. "How was it for you and Shawn?"

"Really, really different at the start, although I think we've ended up in the same place as you and Rick."

"Did it take you as long to figure out what to do?"

"No, we went from mutual interest to bed very quickly."

"Wow. I wish I had your decisiveness, Marsh."

"You know, in the beginning, Shawn was actually trying to seduce me," Marsh confessed, her voice barely audible. I had strain my ears, almost cocking my head into the door frame to hear her

"No!" Mom exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

"Absolutely, my girl. He had a plan all mapped out with meticulous care, with alternate strategies and detailed contingencies. Damned if it wasn't working, too. Shawn may look and act like a self-conscious computer nerd sometimes, but when he was trying to get into my panties, he was masterful. I guess he was highly motivated," Marsh laughed.

"What did he do, Marsh?"

"It was subtle, indirect and simple, but devastatingly effective. He treated me with real respect, affection and kindness, things I never got from Harold while we were still married." 

"I think he launched his assault on Mommy's virtue near the beginning of his senior year, just after he turned 18. One day, he just came home from school and gave me a big hug and kissed my cheek, something he rarely did since he hit puberty. He said, "Mom, did I ever tell you how much I truly appreciate everything you've done for me, or how much I really love you?"

"I just laughed and hugged him back and said 'No, not recently and no, you can't have the car tonight.'"

He got real serious then and told me "I mean it Mom. I've been thinking a lot about things recently and I know I've been taking a lot for granted. I just don't want to do that anymore. And no, I don't want the car tonight."

"Seems innocent enough, Marsh."

"Oh, yes indeed. It didn't think twice about it, except that it absolutely made my week. You know how it is, when you finally realize that the day your little boy is going to walk out of your life and into the big, bad world is coming soon. Right then, I felt closer to him than I had in years. It was precious." 

"After that day, it slowly and seemingly naturally escalated. He spent a lot less time on his computer or out with his friends and more time just sitting with me, talking. He asked my advice about a lot of things and really listened to what I had to say. He always made a point to compliment me on my appearance. At least of couple of times a day, he'd give me a big hug, 'Just because,' he'd say. I started to get a nice kiss each morning when he left for school and when he came home. I came to really look forward to those moments, they made me feel so good about myself and about our relationship."

"I know now in retrospect, I was subconsciously starting to respond to him as a woman, too. I didn't see it at the time, but that clever so-and-so had found the chink in my maternal armor. Without really thinking about it, I began dressing a bit more provocatively, nothing outrageous, but definitely a notch more suggestive than before and I definitely was fishing for compliments, which he very happily provided. He made me feel sexy and desirable again and boy, oh boy, did that feel nice." 

"After that, things started to get more intimate, not in any obviously inappropriate way, just closer. He started giving me foot rubs a couple times a week. I felt so pampered, it was wonderful. We'd sit on the sofa in the evening and I'd put my feet in his lap. He always made sure that my feet were a chaste distance from his crotch and then he'd do my lower calves and feet, never getting fresh. Things started to change though, one time when he did my feet for almost an hour. By the end, he was just caressing me, again no higher than my calves, but I found myself responding to him. I actually got wet from him touching my legs and feet, Jen!"

"Did he notice, Marsh?"

"At the time, I didn't think so, but looking back, I think I was excited enough that he could smell me. Things didn't go any farther that evening, but the next day, when he left for school, he kissed me on my lips!"

"My God, what did you do?"

"I was so surprised, I couldn't do anything. Besides, it was so quick, he was gone off the porch before I could respond. I just stood there on the stoop like an idiot. My first thought after he left was that we'd have to talk and nip things in the bud immediately, but as I was sitting, drinking my coffee a little later, I began to think, 'What's the harm in a little peck on the lips from your handsome son, who obviously loves you very much? He's just showing you a little extra affection, showing how much he cares about you.'"

"So, there you were, on a very slippery, very treacherous slope," Mom observed.

"And how. While I was finishing my second cup, I began thinking again about the foot massage he gave me before. Damned if I didn't get wet all over again. This time though, it wasn't just a little juiciness, it was a goddamn river. I soaked through my panties in about two minutes! By then I knew I had to take care of myself or I'd be good for nothing the rest of my day. I was incredibly horny and at the same time pissed off and guilty, having gotten excited by the memory of my own son touching my stupid feet. So, I went upstairs to get out Mr. Big."

"Mr. Big?" Mom snickered.

"Exactly, Mr. Big. Eleven by three inches of vibrating, pulsating, pussy stretching, high tech silicone goodness, my go-to toy when I really need to get off big time."

"Jesus, Marsh," Mom giggled.

"Anyway, I stripped and got down to business. I slipped off into my favorite Fabio fantasy, which never fails to get my rocks off, but I found I couldn't come! It was crazy! There I was, spread-eagled in my bed, with my number one sex toy buried to the hilt in my cunt, my favorite fantasy in my head and I couldn't get off. I kept working at it but I just hovered at the edge forever."

"Then it happened. I was flat on my back, pounding my poor pussy for all I was worth, sweating like a piglet, getting absolutely nowhere and then out of the blue I thought of Shawn on top of me."

"Oh my God."

"Yes, Jen. 'Oh my God.' Actually, 'OMFG', as the kids like to say." 

"I went off like a bomb in less than ten seconds." 

"Jen, I climaxed so hard I saw stars! It was flat out one of the very best orgasms of my entire life. It must have stretched for nearly two minutes - it was like huge waves crashing on the beach, one after another. My whole body felt like a puddle of molten gold. It was so intense I thought I peed the bed."

"God Marsh, you're starting to get me worked up now. Take it easy," Mom pleaded. 

"I was absolutely out of my mind with lust at that point. Mr. Big was gone for good, forever replaced by lovely Shawn. My son substitute got a workout, I can tell you - mouth, cunt, ass, everything. I went for several hours and was practically unconscious by lunchtime. Every time I came, it was better, more intense than the last. I was actually screaming at the top of my lungs into my pillow by the end. I'm sure if the neighbors had heard anything, they would have thought I was being murdered."

"When I came to my senses, I had to run to the toilet to throw up. I was almost suicidal with guilt. I curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and was probably catatonic for at least an hour. After that I drifted around the house in a naked daze, crying my eyes out. All I could think about was fucking my son - my pussy was dripping like a faucet and at the same time, I was consumed by remorse. It felt ten thousand times worse than when I found out Harold was cheating on me." 

"Boy, do I ever hear you, Marsh. The first time I actually admitted to myself that I wanted Ricky, I felt like throwing myself under the bus. I thought I was a complete pervert, a horrible mother and an evil human being. Thank God I got through that."

"You have to get over a lot to get to where we are Jen, but in the end there's nothing like it in the whole world."

"Amen to that. So, there you were, struggling," Mom prompted.

"Yeah, I was feeling lower than whale shit," Marsh laughed. "Eventually I found myself in Shawn's room, trying to understand how my world got so suddenly and thoroughly turned upside down. I tried to reestablish some maternal perspective by straightening up his teenage clutter a bit. I'm not sure how I expected to do that, standing there nude, dripping fuck oil on his carpet, but it seemed to make sense at the time. Anyway, when I was tidying up his desk, I jostled his computer and the screen saver went off."

"When I saw the incest forum he was logged into, I lost it. I went from abject misery to steaming rage in two minutes."

"Jesus, Marsh. What did you see?"

"His screen name was 'wantmysexymom18.' There was a lengthy thread he started about two months previously, soliciting advice on how to get into my pants! God, I felt so stupid. Everything was a setup. He wanted to fuck me and used the information other boys gave him to weaken my defenses. There seemed to be at least two other kids who had actually pulled it off, seducing their moms, and I could see that he had followed their recommendations almost to the letter. He was posting almost daily, outlining his progress, right down to describing how he rubbed my feet for the first time." 

"Right about then, I was so humiliated, I think my heart broke. I was ready to disown the little shit and throw him out of the house the minute he got home. I had never felt so used in my entire life. It was nothing short of emotional rape."

"Wow. How on earth did you get from there to where you are now? If Ricky had pulled a stunt like that, I would have fed his dick to the ducks and killed him - twice."

"Funny how these things work out, isn't it? I was ready to throw his computer out the window, but I forced myself to finish the thread. The last response to his thread was from a few days before, from someone called 'lindalovesherboy.' It just said that she had a relationship with her son and that she wanted Shawn to PM her right away."

"It took a little while to find his correspondence with this woman, but when I did, it changed everything all over again."

"Jeez, Marsh, what a rollercoaster! Don't keep me in suspense, out with it, girl!"

I could hear Marsh take a deep breath. "This woman gave Shawn a detailed, emotional account of how she came to take her own son as her lover. She was a widow, her husband killed in the first Gulf War, serving with the SEAL teams. He was a bona fide hero. It was a beautiful story, heart wrenching and inspiring at the same time, in some ways like yours and Ricky's. From how she wrote, you could just tell how much they loved each other, man and woman, son and mom, how committed they were and how much joy they had in their lives." 

"She was very direct about what she thought of the way Shawn was manipulating and misleading me, how selfish it was. She asked him bluntly if he was after a quick roll in the hay, or whether he wanted something like what she had with her son. She begged him to think things through before the situation got to the point where there was no going back. She seemed genuinely concerned that he not damage our normal mother-son relationship. She also had some very good advice for him about the ins and outs of a real romantic mother-son coupling and how wonderful it could be if he was willing to commit to something like that."

"Shawn wrote her back, somewhat defensively at first, but 'linda' was persistent and non-confrontational and gradually got him to 'fess up about how all this came about. For the first time, I really saw myself though my son's eyes. The poor boy had the hots for me so bad, it was almost comical. He could describe my body in great detail, the sneak, and he was so worshipful, so enthralled by this middle aged broad, it was sad, funny and so sweet, all at the same time. The way he described me, I could tell there was more to it than just testosterone overload. At a minimum, he was totally infatuated, that was for sure." 

"'Linda' gradually got him to open up about his feelings for me. God Jen, it was intense, like eavesdropping on a weird Oedipal therapy session. Shawn eventually admitted that he was starting to get uncomfortable with how successful his campaign of seduction had become, that he felt very, very guilty. It was clear that he didn't count on his engineered and calculated intimacy affecting him in any way. He was so in lust, he didn't realize the fire he was playing with! The real emotions that came with his little game totally blindsided him."

"Their last correspondence bowled me over. He came clean with 'Linda,' telling her how he felt and that he now actually had really, unintentionally fallen in love with me. He admitted that he couldn't go forward with his plan! He said he couldn't live with himself if I found out how he had duped me. He was going to talk to me very soon and confess everything, come what may. He thanked 'Linda' profusely for saving his bacon and our relationship and he asked if he might ask her son a couple of questions, if he was willing."

"Jen, I'll never forget her reply," she sighed, choking up. "She said 'I wish with all my heart you could talk with him, but he died in Afghanistan eighteen months ago. He followed in his father's footsteps. There are no words for how much I miss him. Love your Mom as best and honestly as you can, young man. Your time with her is very precious. Don't waste a minute of it.'"

"Good Lord, Marsh, that's unbelievable. What did you do next?"

"I had another good cry and then took a nice, hot bath. I thought long and hard about everything that had happened and I came to the conclusion that I would wait and see what Shawn said when he got home. If he followed through like he promised 'Linda,' I would work things out with him. If not, well, I didn't want to think about that. I prayed that he would have the courage to do the right thing. I knew if he did, then we could heal the breach between us. Then I went back to my bedroom and got out Mr. Big again and gave myself another shattering orgasm, thinking about Shawn the whole time."

"Good grief, Marsh, you were soooo, bad," Mom laughed.

"Yes I was, wasn't I? 'Linda's' parting comments really struck home with me. Who could say if I might blow a cerebral aneurysm tomorrow, or if Shawn might have some kind of accident? What Shawn did was incredibly stupid, but he paid a high price before he even had a chance to touch me. He didn't count on an emotional boomerang. He outsmarted himself!" Marsh hooted. 

"So what happened when he got home?"

"I had to wait a long time. He came back unusually late, almost 5 o'clock. I was starting to really worry - 'Linda' and her final PM were really weighing on my mind at that point. I was terrified that Shawn didn't feel that he could face me - that he'd run off or something. You know, a mother's typical worrying. Anyway, he eventually dragged his sorry ass through the door into the kitchen. He looked like hell."

"It was hard to keep a straight face while I pretended to scold him for not telling me he was going to be late. When I finished I asked, 'Well, where's my kiss? Don't you love your mom?'"

"God, Jen, you should have seen how his face fell! It looked like he was going to throw up any second. He swallowed very hard and pecked my cheek and I said 'That's more like it, but I think you can do better, especially after the past few days.' 

"He sat down, and stared at the table top. He couldn't bring himself to look at me. He said we had to talk about what was happening before, that it wasn't right what he had done."

"I came right back at him with 'I liked it, and it sure seemed as though you did too.' 

"I remember exactly what he said to me then, Jen. He looked me straight in the eye then and said point blank, 'This is so hard, Mom, but I've got to tell you something before I go mad. Do you know I've been trying to seduce you for the last several weeks? I wanted to have sex with you, Mom.'" 




Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



"I nodded and looked straight back at him and just said 'Yes, I know, son.'"

"The poor boy just lost it at that point. He sat there with tears streaming down his face, saying he couldn't understand why I didn't hate him, why I didn't disown him and throw him out of the house, what a terrible person he was." 

"I told him that what he tried to do was the most monumentally stupid act of his young life, but what he was now experiencing was what happened when naive young men tried to play high stakes, grown up games with their mothers. I said he could have very easily destroyed our relationship for the rest of our lives. Then I dropped the bomb on him."

"I told him 'linda' gave him some priceless counsel and the only reason he wasn't walking down the street with his suitcase in hand was because he was now being totally honest with me and that he was smart enough to have followed 'linda's' very good advice. He just sat there with his mouth hanging open. I got up then and hugged him and told him it was okay, that I forgave him, because he was still my son and I still loved him very much."

At this point, Marsh broke down a little bit and apologized. "Sorry, Jen. I still get very emotional when I think about that moment. You're the only person I've ever told about this. You have no idea how much it means to be able to talk with someone who understands what I went through."

"Nonsense, Marsh. Skin sisters, remember? It's a privilege to hear this from you. Now, here's a Kleenex. Relax a bit and then you can finish the story."

After a couple of minutes, Marsh gathered herself and continued. "I told him how I came across his nasty little forum and how I read everything in the thread and with 'linda,' and how that made me feel. After that, I needed to get Shawn settled down so we could talk some more, so I did what mothers always do to get their sons back on an even keel."

Mom laughed delightedly. "You fed him!"

Marsh began laughing too. "Yup. I fried up a couple of steaks, baked some potatoes and made a salad. I even let him have a beer."

Mom was still chortling. "The one page men's maintenance manual. Feed me, fuck me, let me sleep in."

"Yes, but that's getting a little ahead of the game."

"What happened next?"

"I fed him his dinner and just sat with him and was good old comforting, reassuring Mom, trying to get him out of his hurt puppy mode. He seemed to be more relaxed after he wolfed down his supper and it looked like he could hardly believe that the sky hadn't fallen. I got him up from the table and went into the family room and sat him on the sofa." 

"I put myself right next to him, our legs touching and said 'Cards on the table time, Shawn. Can you be totally honest with me again?' For a minute, he looked like he was going to bolt out of the room, but then he settled down. 'I just have a few more questions and then we can put this all behind us, okay?' 

He seemed relieved to hear that and he said to go ahead. 'Those things you said to 'Linda,' about being 'in love' with me as a woman, are they really true?' He was having a hard time speaking at that point, but he nodded 'yes.' 'Do you still want to sleep with me?' Again, he nodded 'yes.'" 

"Then I asked him to think very carefully before answering my next question, which was 'How do you think I feel about you right now, as a son and a man? He said he thought that I was probably very disappointed and disgusted."

"'What if I told you that your little game had its desired effect on me, that I was seriously considering become intimate with my own son?' I asked next."

"He said, 'I don't think I could ever believe that, after how I behaved.'"

"Do you think now that you're going to fuck your mom?"

"He just shook his head. By now he was getting close to tears again and my heart went out to him. He was really in agony." 

"I took a deep breath at that point and jumped off the cliff. I told him, 'Well, you're going to have to revise your thinking on that point, because I want you now too, Shawn. You're not going to fuck your mom, but you are going to make love with her, starting right now.' 

I took him by the hand then and led him to my bedroom. As we were walking up the stairs, I kissed him and said 'The world is a cruel, uncaring and uncertain place, and a son's time with his mother is precious.'"

"God, Marsh, what a story! You were so brave, I can't believe it! I could never have handled that the way you did, not in a million years." Mom paused for a moment. "How was it, that first time?" she whispered.

"Shawn was awkward, over-excited and clumsy," Marsh giggled. "But it didn't matter, it was still perfect. He only lasted about a minute, but then I was right there with him. When he came inside me, that first time, it was indescribable. I went off like a kilo of C4 and scratched his back bloody. That cum made everything I did with Mr. Big earlier that day seem like a fart in a wet paper bag, I'm telling you. He was ready to go again in about two minutes (God, aren't young men wonderful?) and did a little better technique-wise, but still needed some encouragement and coaching. Even so, I came just like the first time the minute he creamed me again. I couldn't believe how that set me off." 

"We did it three more times that night and it just got better and better. By the time we finished around four in the morning, I was a goner. Never in my life, ever, had I been fucked like Shawn did me. Everything he did, I could just feel this incredible combination of amazed adoration and blazing lust absolutely radiating from him, like a sexual blast furnace. I have never felt so completely and totally loved and desired in my whole life, Jen. That night, he truly gave me his heart and I felt the same way about him. I haven't looked back since and have not had even one minute of regret."

Marsh's voice dropped to the point where I couldn't hear her any more and I could tell she and Mom were whispering something to each other, giggling. Then Marsh spoke up in a normal voice. 

"Why don't you come in and sit with us and hear the rest of the story, Rick?"

I stepped into the kitchen, wearing a shit-eating grin and throbbing erection, both Marsh and Mom smiling at my discomfiture. Mom grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to her side. 

"Ricky, you are sooo busted!"

"Guilty as charged, Mom. Am I grounded?" I asked, slipping my arm around her shoulders.

Marsh smiled and got up to freshen her cup of coffee, pausing to kiss my cheek.

"It's perfectly okay, Rick. I would have told you the story anyway, if you hadn't already been around."

Seating herself again, Marsh smoothed her skirt and sipped from her mug. I sat down next to Mom, pulling her out of her chair into my lap, her arms around my neck as she settled in. Marsh smiled as Mom got comfortable. "I just love looking at the two of you together, Jen. It helps keep me sane when Shawn can't be with me and reminds me how lucky I am."

"Anyway, to continue. The next morning, I called the school and put Shawn in as sick for the rest of the week. We ate, napped just a little and made like minks for three days straight. By the time the weekend rolled around, we were both so tired and sore, we slept for almost eighteen hours. The rest of the weekend, when we weren't making love, we talked about the future."

"There was a boatload of stuff that had to be worked out. We had to deal with our commitment to each other, what we expected and the ground rules now that we were together. The only time I got upset was when Shawn said he wanted to change his college plans and stay local to be with me. It was so sweet and downright stupid at the same time, it made me want to cry." 

"I took a deep breath and told him to bear with me, because I was going to have to stop being his lover for a minute and go into 'mom mode.' I said that a young man with his abilities simply did not walk away from early admission and a full ride at Tech just to get laid more often, regardless of how much he loved his girl." 

"I explained that I wanted us to be together for the long haul, but that he was still young and had some more maturing to do and that being away at college was essential for that. It was so hard, but I told him I couldn't see any other way to test and strengthen our relationship, to make sure it would last. I knew I was taking a risk that he might find someone his own age, but I didn't see any other way around the problem. So, we agreed that he would go to Tech and I would go see him every other weekend, except during exams."

"It turned out that my worries were just that, a few unfounded fears. Once we were together, Shawn absolutely blossomed for his senior year. He became so assured, so confident and outgoing, it was like night and day." 

"There was one Friday when he came home from school, sometime in early December, I think it was. I was really randy for some reason. I don't know why, because we were making love at least once a day, and he had taken me in front of the stove that morning before he left for school."

Marsh paused for a moment and then asked rhetorically, "Jen, what is it about the kitchen that sets a son off? I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that bending me over the sink and hiking my skirt up is Shawn's favorite position. We did that so often, I stopped wearing panties when he was home. And I still don't!"

Pausing her story to sip her coffee, she asked, "You know what he wanted for his 21st birthday? I was all set to show him a wonderful night on the town, fancy dinner and drinks, dancing, a little clubbing, the whole nine yards, but he didn't want that. He said, 'Mom, all I want is for you to fix me a steak and salad – just wearing your apron.'" 

"So, that's exactly what I did," Marsh continued. "I added my own touch, putting on a garter belt, seamed stockings and high heels. He went absolutely apeshit, Jen! First, he put me on the counter top and ate me to a couple of juicy cums. Then he laid me over the kitchen table and took me quickly from behind. He came in just a couple of minutes but stayed totally hard in me, he was so excited. Then it was doggie style on the floor for almost a half hour – I came twice again before he did. The only reason we stopped was because my knees and elbows were getting sore," she confessed with a throaty laugh. "Of course, my nice new stockings were totally ruined at that point, but it was so worth it!"

"Needless to say," she went on, "Dinner got cold. After I cried 'Uncle', Shawn picked me up and carried me into the den, tucking me in with a couple of blankets on the sofa. He brought our dinner out, along with a fancy bottle of wine he bought for the occasion. We sat and ate and drank, watching movies the rest of the evening. In the end, I think I enjoyed our kitchen sex and cuddling even more than if we had gone out like I planned."

"Oh yes," Mom agreed. "The kitchen is, uhm, a special place for Ricky and me also." 

She went on to describe our first time there, after our reconciliation, omitting a few of the more intimate, kinky details. "I guess, in the end it's all about love and comfort," Mom concluded. "It's a natural extension of a mother and son being together. I'd bet you that any son who's ever dreamed about doing his mom has at least one fantasy scenario that involves the kitchen."

"You know, Jen, I have to confess that it gives me a thrill to do Shawn there too. I guess it's just the sheer perversity of the idea. After all, when you think about how much traditional mothering actually happens there, it feels like a real taboo place, almost like fucking in church."

"Marsh, you don't me to say that you and Shawn have..."

"Oh, goodness, no. As much as I like the idea of breaking rules, that's just too risky. Anyway, I don't think we need the extra kick from something like that. Things are hot and heavy enough all by themselves, just knowing my son is my lover."

Sitting back in her chair, Marsh stretched and took a long pull from her coffee mug, briefly lost in thought as she got back on track with her story. 

"Anyway, back to that December Friday. Even though we did the nasty in the kitchen that morning, there it was - I needed to fuck my son, again. When Shawn walked in the door, I was upstairs in our bed, naked and waiting. When he found me, he stripped down in about ten seconds and we had a lovely, sweet session." 

"What I remember was that his cell phone went off nearly a dozen times while we made love, not a big deal, but a bit annoying. Afterwards, while we were showering together, he apologized and promised that he would make sure to silence his cell in the future."

"Jen, those calls were all from girls, wanting to know what he was doing for the weekend! One called three different times! Shawn was chuckling as he paged through the messages. He said, 'You know Mom, it's so ironic. Just a few months ago I would have sold my soul to have girls pursuing me like this. Now though, I can't be bothered. A high school teenager just can't compete with a beautiful, intelligent woman. I admit it - I'm spoiled forever. I have everything I'll ever need right here at home.'"

"What could I do after that, Jen? I took him straight back to bed and ravished him until dinnertime. That was the real turning point in our relationship - it was then that I truly knew we were going to make it work. What a great moment that was!"

"So that's how it is. Shawn is busting his ass for us now, hoping to graduate a semester early. He's still got a year to go and he's already getting job offers, good ones. He's started to get after me lately, says he wants me to go back to school and finish getting my degree in design and architecture when he graduates! I'm thinking about it very seriously. I can't believe how much our life has changed in the past two years - I have to pinch myself to confirm it's all really happened."

"Anyway, that's the Readers Digest version of Shawn and me. How about you two? Anything new? You're still both honeymooners in effect."

Mom took a reflective sip of her own coffee before she replied.

"Yes and no, I suppose. I guess the novelty of things, the excitement of exploring with your new lover is there, but there are incredible differences, too. I'm amazed at how settled, how grounded I feel now. I know with absolute certainty who I'll be spending the rest of my life with. I feel, well, complete in a way I would never have thought possible in the past. It's complicated but simple all at once. I don't think I could have a warmer, closer, or more romantic relationship with any other man, but at the same time, I feel so excited, so wicked to be sleeping with my own son!"

"Listen to me ramble on, Marsh," Mom blushed. "It's almost impossible to describe, but I know it's right and it's what was meant to be for us."

"Actually, I think you said it pretty well, Jen."

"Marsh, I can't get over how different your relationship started compared to us, but how similar things ended up. I told Ricky during the first night we were together that I had been a fool for taking so long to be with him, making him wait and putting up with so much emotional idiocy from me, but he wouldn't hear of it," she said, running her fingers through my hair.

"It's true, Mom," I confirmed. "I think it all unfolded the way it did for a reason. Everything that happened, good and bad, got us to a place where we truly understood what we meant to one another. I'm positive that your conversation with Mom when she came back from Vancouver was a key moment too, Marsh."

"I didn't feel it at the time," Mom interjected, "But by the next morning, it became clear that what you said in the kitchen had a big subconscious impact on me. It freed me from worry about outside issues and allowed me to focus on what was important between my son and me. We owe you a huge debt."

"I'm glad I was of help. It's wonderful to think I had at least a small role in the creation of something so beautiful."

"Did you guys ever have any more contact with 'Linda?'" Mom asked.

"Oh, yes," Marsh affirmed. "I had Shawn initiate a chat with her the next day. I got online with her and gave her the scoop on our confrontation, how well Shawn handled himself, how proud I was of him. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart and Shawn did too. Then I told her we were together. She was initially surprised, but then thrilled for us. I told her I was going to light a candle in her son's memory the next time I went to Mass. She said I was going to make her cry, but she was honored we thought of him that way. Long story short, we began having private chatroom sessions from time to time and within a month, Shawn sent her a webcam with instructions on how to set up sessions. We Skype at least twice a week. She's now one of my closest friends."

"Speaking of videoconferencing, would it be okay if I told Linda (that is her real name, after all) a little about you guys? - No identifying details, of course."

I glanced at Mom and she nodded. "I think it's fine, Marsh. We'll leave it to your discretion how much you want to tell her."

"Thanks, Rick. I think she'll get a real lift out of your experience. I always thought is was very romantic and inspiring."

"You can add one detail to our story if you like, Marsh," Mom quietly added.

"What's that, Jen?"

"I'm pregnant."

Marsh just sat there stunned for almost thirty seconds, mouth hanging open, speechless in shock, glancing back and forth between us, at a complete loss for words. 

I chuckled and supplied her with her own response.

"I think the term you're looking for here is 'OMFG', Marsh."

"Jesus, you didn't waste a minute, did you, Jen? Did you plan on this? Aren't you, ummm, worried about the baby, if it's going to be, uh, completely healthy?" Marsh asked with concern.

"Marsh, once I knew we were going to be lovers, it never occurred to me NOT to do this," Mom said emphatically. "As far as I'm concerned, it comes with the package. If I'm going to fuck my own son, live the rest of my life with him, then by God, I'm going to have his children too. Anyway, about the other thing – I did do my homework. Given my age as well as the genetic aspect, I was worried at first. It wasn't easy to track down the information, but in the end, it seemed as though the risks of us being related were only a bit more than those any other woman my age might have for something like Down's syndrome."

"What about you Rick? How do you feel about all this?" Marsh inquired.

"We talked about it a lot, Marsh. In the end, we just knew that regardless, any child we had was going to be loved to death, no matter what. Anyway, how can you not want to have children with the woman you love?" I asked back. "Besides, once you've become a motherfucker, how many other taboos are really left? Mom and I are going to have a family together because that's what real couples do. Why should we be any different from anyone else?"

"That's well said, Rick. Bravo."

"I have to admit, though, Mom and I agree that it's also an incredible turn on for both of us," I added with a smile. "I guess we also like breaking all the rules."

"Well, congratulations – it's wonderful news. I can't wait to tell Shawn. I have to say though, I think I'm getting a bit jealous."

"Have you and Shawn talked at all about it?" Mom asked.

"No, Jen, we've been concentrating on getting him graduated and finding a job."

"You really should have a discussion with him," I suggested. "I admit I don't know Shawn that well, but I think you might be very surprised at how he feels. Talk some more with Mom too. She's not an expert, but we've both learned a lot over the past few months. Mom was thinking about it and looking at the risks from the beginning."




Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



"I will most definitely do that, Rick. Wow, you guys have really got me thinking now. You're a bunch of enablers, that's what you are!" she laughingly scolded.

With that, Marsh drained her mug and stood. "Well, I need to get home and have a nice hot soak. My poor little tush needs some R&R."

As she opened the back door, I called to her. "Say hi to Mr. Big for us!"

Mom was scandalized. "Ricky!" she yelled, punching my arm.

Marsh just laughed. "Is he too old to spank, Jen?"

"I'd do it in a minute if I didn't think he'd get off from it. See ya, Marsh."

"Later, Jen. Behave yourself, Rick," she called out over her shoulder as she went out the door, hips swaying.





Beyond the Borderline Bk. 02



"You certainly did. I may be tired, but I'm not complaining. If it gets to be too much, I can start mainlining Cialis. That, popsicle sticks and duct tape should do the trick."

"You're impossibly silly. Now, it's time to sleep," she smiled. "I want you fully rested for my wake up fuck tomorrow."

"Oh God, back to the salt mines."

"I love you too, Ricky. Now, let's get some rest."





Beyond the Borderline



I was jerked back to reality by the slap of Mom's palm on the door. 

"I'm ready now, Mr. Impatient," she snapped. "You better get out here pronto, or I'm not going to take you. Let's get this show on the road!"

Quickly stuffing myself back under cover, I washed my hands and stepped out into the hallway. Mom was right by the door, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot, still clearly pissed about my indiscretion. 

"Let's go," she said curtly.

Our ride to the practice field was made in tense silence. I knew I was in trouble and Mom was letting me stew in my juices for a while before she lowered the boom.

When we arrived at the parking lot, she put her arm across my chest, checking me before I could escape the car. Reaching out to me with her other hand, she cupped my chin and forcibly turned my head to face her.

She spoke quietly, but firmly, in measured tones, her calm demeanor actually emphasizing her displeasure.

"Ricky, are you a little boy or a young man?"

"I'm not a little boy," I replied somewhat sullenly.

"No you're not. Young men don't behave like little kids, now do they?"

"No, Mom."

"As a young man, you have certain responsibilities. The most important of these is to always treat your Mom with courtesy and respect. That is, of course, assuming you want me to treat you like the young man you are becoming. Do you want me to respect you, to treat you fairly?"

"Yes, Mom," I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Well then," she continued, pointedly ignoring my attitude, "That includes always knocking before you come into my room from now on. You will respect my privacy," she declared, steel in her voice. "If it happens again, you'll be grounded for a month and no allowance, no Nintendo and no movies. Are we clear?"

Suitably chastised, I nodded my acquiescence.

"I'm sorry I was rude Mom. I won't do it again."

"Apology accepted," she acknowledged, her demeanor returning to normal.

"Mom, you're not going to leave, are you?" I asked anxiously.

Smile returning, she squeezed my hand reassuringly. "I wouldn't miss my son's first start for anything. I was planning to follow Mom and Dad here anyway, until our plans changed."

"Hop on out and get ready. I'll find a parking space and see you shortly."

Later, I saw Mom in the stands, hooting and hollering along with all the other parents. When the second half began, I saw that Gramps and Nana had made it as well. It felt really good to have my whole family rooting for me.

It would have been amazing if I had played a great game, but I didn't. I did do the next beast thing, though – I didn't screw up. That was enough for me. When it was all over, I got a slap on the back from Gramps and big hugs from Mom and Nana. We went out for pizza after that, completing what turned out to be one of the most important days of my life.

I never got another chance to see Mom undressed or in her underwear again after that day. I suspect that she had at least some inkling of how my seeing her had affected me and was very careful not to give me the opportunity for another eyeful.

It didn't really matter though – the damage had been done and I was changed for good. 

At that point, I was totally focused on trying to get another glimpse of Mom. Any opportunity was to be seized upon, but Mom was very careful since that first wonderful incident. Failing to get any more chances, my emphasis gradually shifted. Of course if you can't see Mom in the flesh, the next best thing is those wonderful garments that cover her special parts. 

I remember the first time I snuck into her room and rummaged in her underwear drawer. Even though she was long gone for a day's work in the City, I was so nervous, I shook like a baby's rattle. Running my trembling hands over the lacy cups of one of her brassieres, I became hard as a brick. Rubbing my fingertips over the shiny smoothness of one of her nylon granny panties, I almost came without touching myself. 

When I pulled my shorts down and got my cock out, the moment I slid my glans across the gusset of her briefs, I shot a huge load all over my hands and the panties. I almost passed out from the pleasure and the excitement of doing something so forbidden, so nasty. When I finally came down from orbit, though, I knew I was in trouble. My cum was everywhere, coating my hands, splooged in her panties and dripping on the carpet by her dresser. 

I was immediately assailed by terrible guilt. Not only was I a pervert, who whacked off into his own mother's underwear, I had made a huge, disgusting mess in her bedroom. I was doomed and damned all at one instant. Damned for my sinful behavior and horrible thoughts and doomed because I knew in my heart that I would never be able to stop doing it again and again and again.

Frantically, I rushed to obliterate all traces of my transgression. I cleaned myself up and dashed to the laundry room, rinsing Mom's undies in the sink and then throwing them in the bottom of the hamper, out of sight and mind. I flew back upstairs with a sponge and some dish soap and feverishly scrubbed my jizz out of the carpet. I dashed back downstairs to put the cleaning stuff away and then sprinted back to Mom's bathroom, grabbing her hair dryer, which I then used to dry the damp spots on the carpet where I had cleaned my sticky spend out of the shag.

Trembling with anxiety, I bolted to my room, locking the door behind me before I flung myself on the bed. Then I waited, overwhelmed with guilt. I waited for Mom to come home and discover my horrible actions, throwing me out of the house. I waited for Gramps to come home and beat me within an inch of my life. I waited for God to smite me with a thunderbolt, punishing me for my sin.

After about ten or fifteen minutes of waiting for the sky to fall, I realized nothing was going to happen. After thirty minutes, recalling the silky feel of her panties on my dick, I got hard again. Five minutes later, I was back in the laundry room, fishing the still-damp panties from the hamper and retreating to my room for another round of jacking off. 

Thus began my relationship with my mother's underwear. Within two weeks, I knew every article by heart; what size (34C bust, size 7 panties), what location in the drawer and the usual order of use. I never escaped the feelings of guilt and shame when I spunked her panties, but I simply couldn't help myself.

At first, after I saw Mom that day, I couldn't get the visions of her breasts and panty-clad ass out of my head. I was constantly sneaking glances at her, hoping for a flash of thigh or a brief peek of her brassiere through the gaps between buttons in her blouses, or, holy of holies, getting a look up her skirt to see her panties. The more I looked, though, the more I noticed everything about her appearance – how she combed her hair, put on lipstick or, rarely, eye shadow, what her sense of style was for her work clothes, what kind of pantyhose she used and also her perfume.

I guess at that point, I was beginning to appreciate her as a whole woman for the first time and I surely loved what I saw. It's a given that a guy that age spends a majority of the day with thoughts of jutting asses and jiggling breasts running through his head, but I imagined all that and saw so much more in my mother. 

Her arms were shapely, with only the slightest hint of softness that comes with her age. Her legs are...well, to me they're magnificent. Perfectly proportioned for her height, with exquisitely turned calves, they are almost an anachronism, a modern day reincarnation of the great pins of the 50's movie stars. A comparison to Cyd Charisse would be close to the mark in my mind, but I confess a complete lack of impartiality. 

As long as I am admitting to bias, let me describe the miracle of skin and muscle that is her ass. It is, in a word, womanly. Not a bubble butt, not adolescent, nor compact. It is beautifully proportioned to the rest of her anatomy, but is...lusciously full, mobile, superbly pear-shaped, flawlessly smooth and topped by a sensational, very sensuous, flared waistline. Whether encased in denim shorts, tight Capri pants or even plain slacks, it is an absolute vision of promise and an invitation to totally forbidden thoughts. 

Just to be clear, I would not walk on hot coals to place my hands upon it. For that privilege, I would wade through waist deep lava while gargling sulfuric acid and razor blades. For a chance to caress it, kiss it and otherwise worship it, I would sell my soul, in an instant. 

Yeah, I like my Mom's derriere just a little.

I think these features are attractive enough when seen as mere components, but it's how they all work together that makes her beautiful to me. Perhaps because I am used to looking at her every chance I get, I pay more attention, but I think her face is marvelously expressive. Her deep blue eyes can positively dance with mischief, humor and laughter. When she is truly angry with me, a grey coldness creeps in and they dissect my guilty thoughts and actions like scalpels. Fortunately, I have not been on the receiving end of that particular gaze very often. I can recognize at least 8 or 10 different smiles, ranging from "come get your chicken soup" to "come hither right now." That latter smile is why I'm telling this story, of course.

Mom is an extremely observant and perceptive person. She's also very cautious and detail-oriented, as well as being a bit of a control freak, but she has to be in her job. She's the youngest and first female partner at March, Briggs and Dufrense, a moderate sized law firm in the City. She got there by being smarter, nice-tougher and generally harder working than most of the other associates. Once she was hired on, it only took her 4 years to make partner. She specializes in corporate and international law, which is well suited to her careful, meticulous nature. She's a member of the Bar in New York, New Jersey and unusually, a couple Canadian provinces as well. In addition to loving her, having a crush on her, lusting after her greatly and generally adoring her, I admire her tremendously.

As you can probably tell, I have been hopelessly attached to this woman since forever. Of course, the lens of puberty completely changes the focus and perception of a growing boy, and I was no exception. What was once "When I grow up, I'm going to marry you, Mommy!" at 6 years old becomes furtive trips to the laundry hamper for used panties at 13. Is there anything that can compare to the slight residual warmth, intoxicating scent or taste of the gusset in a freshly discarded pair of panties? Not to a young, hyper stimulated teenager, I would guess. 

It was at middle school time when I really began to notice Mom as a woman. My voice was deepening, my bones were aching from my growth spurt and there was hair growing in unexpected places. Equipment that was once single purpose developed very interesting and downright startling new capabilities.

Mom almost certainly knew what was happening before I did, and of course she had taught me all the basics at a much younger age, to satisfy my insatiable curiosity. Nana, Gramps and Mom were all kindly tolerant of my withdrawn surliness and generally antisocial interactions as testosterone overran my synapses, but they kept me on track. Gramps was great a getting me settled into my new role as a real guy and second man of the house. Some of that instruction was real old school stuff, very much nose-to-nose and occasionally resulted in prolonged discomfort when sitting, but we got through it okay and I was the better for it. 

Academically, I was a good student in school. I had to really bust my ass to excel in math and science, but with much pain and sweat, still managed to do well in these areas. As you might imagine, when it came to grades, Mom took no prisoners. Somehow, though, she always found the right combination of motivations to carry me through any difficulties. She never used her own considerable accomplishments as a yardstick against my own efforts, I think because she knew I would do that myself. There was an unspoken assumption that, of course, I would give a maximum effort in any subject I studied. She had high expectations, but also seemed to have a sixth sense for what represented my best efforts, and never criticized me when she knew I had done my best on something and had come up a little short. I loved her very much for that.

Towards the end of middle school, Mom was gearing up in her push to becoming a partner at her law firm and I was spending more and more time on homework. Our chances to spend time together seemed to be dwindling to nothing. I think both of us sensed this subconsciously, but for me it showed in a general increased crankiness and more arguments with Mom. After a particularly irrational outburst, which centered around difficulties with my math homework, Mom sat me down and slowly, painfully extracted the truth from me. 

"All right, Ricky. What is your major maladjustment here? You can't tell me that all of this venom you've been spewing lately is just from problems with quadratic equations. You've been exceptionally rude and ungrateful lately and I want to know why. Are you having problems with someone at school? Is it something to do with girls?"

"Mooommm!" 

Girls and sex were a very sensitive topic. I was thinking about them constantly. If I went more than fifteen or twenty minutes without fantasizing about fucking some female, it was a rare event. At the time, I was nursing simultaneous crushes on two different girls in my algebra class and secretly lusting after my French teacher, Mrs. DuPre and the lady next door, Myra Gordon. A few months before, I had discovered the delicious secrets of Mom's used panties as well, which was a source of tremendous excitement as well as secret self-loathing. I felt like such a perv whenever I spunked in them, thinking of her, but I absolutely couldn't help myself.

"I thought so. I had a feeling that the testosterone level has been rising around here lately," she chuckled. "You can't fool your old Mom when it comes to this stuff - you're a glass of water to me," she said, with a kind, all-knowing smile.

"God Mom, you're embarrassing the crap out of me!"

Placing her hand on mine, she gave me a squeeze and said softly, "Ricky, the very last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable or embarrassed, but I have noticed some changes lately. You know I won't judge you on this. I just want to know that you're okay. Okay?"

"Okay, Mom," I sighed. "It's really hard to talk about though, I have so many confusing feelings about it all."

"Why don't you start by telling me who it is you think is pretty?"

"Well, in my math class, there's Sally McPhee and Grace Kim. They're really cute and nice," I said in a rush. "I've talked to them a little bit, a couple of times, and I've seen Grace smile at me once." 

"I don't know Sally, but I met Grace and her mom and dad at the last parent-teacher day. If her mother is any indication, Grace is going to grow into a gorgeous young woman. She also struck me as a very kind, genuine person. You've got very good taste, hotshot!" she concluded.

That made me feel real good to hear Mom say that, and I felt a little better opening up to her. "Uhhh, there's a bit more though, and it's this stuff that has me more confused," I confessed uncomfortably.

Mom looked at me a bit speculatively and pursed her lips in thought, finger rubbing absently under her lower lip. 

"Well," she drawled, "Unless I miss my guess, I'm thinking that you are having more -shall we say- explicit thoughts about someone, and this is what's troubling you."

I stared at Mom aghast. She seemed to be looking through a window into my most private feelings. It felt as though she was reading my mind and knew everything about my secrets. It was at once alarming and strangely, a little bit exhilarating. 

"I've seen you staring at Myra Gordon's bottom, you know."

Myra was our next-door neighbor. "Jesus, Mooommmm!" I felt like crawling into a hole and pulling it closed behind me.

"What about that is not perfectly normal?" she inquired, in a puzzled tone. "Surely your friends talk about who's hot and who's not, right? It's also entirely okay to be attracted to older women too, you know. I've overheard you talking with Jack Hamilton about Mrs. DuPre's 'enormous rack.' I also heard you threaten to punch him out when he said I was hot. (That was so sweet of you, by the way.) Your stick-in-the-mud old mom knows exactly what a 'MILF' is," she concluded, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

If I could have blushed any harder at that point, I would have burst into flames. "Mom, you're killing me! I'm soooo embarrassed!"

"You're an absolutely normal young man," she stated emphatically. "How on earth could I be upset that you feel this way about girls and women? I just hope that when you have more serious questions about girls and relationships that you'll continue to talk with me. There's no topic that is off limits there - if you'll be honest with me, I promise to never, ever judge you and I'll give you the best practical advice I can, if you want it."

"Thanks, Mom. It's just really hard to talk to someone about this stuff, but I'll try to be honest."

Mom took my hands in hers and looked at me seriously. 

"Are we still best friends?"

Swallowing with difficulty, I simply nodded.

"Then you know that you can absolutely trust me, right?"

Smiling and touching my cheek, she continued, "I know sometimes that a guy needs to talk with another guy about some of this sex related stuff, but I also know that Gramps is not exactly the easiest person in the world to approach when it comes to this kind of thing."

Mom was right on the mark about Gramps. In many ways, he fulfilled a lot of the needs that a growing boy has for a father figure, but when it came to women and sex, I guess his worldview was colored by the experience of Mom's teenage pregnancy. 

"The only thing I'm going to hold you to is being honest," she said kindly. "I know how hard it can be talking with your old Mom about this kind of thing, but please don't keep any secrets from me - there is nothing, I repeat, nothing that you could say which would upset me in any way. Even if you told me you liked boys more than girls," she concluded.

"Ewwwww, that is soooo gross, Mom!"

"I happen to know that's not true, anyway," she said in a matter of fact tone. "But I do believe that there's still someone you're attracted to that you haven't told me about, right?"

My secret shame burned within me like a small welder's arc and my tongue felt like it was hewn from granite. I wanted so much to say what was really on my mind, but I was terribly afraid of what would happen. Head bowed, swallowing with great difficulty, I tried to speak but somehow, a twenty-pound rock had materialized in my throat, choking off the forbidden words written in my heart.

Reaching across the table, Mom put her hand under my chin, forcing me to look up. I couldn't meet her eyes. Speaking quietly, encouragingly, she tried to coax my acknowledgement.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I promise I won't be mad, whatever you say, whoever it might be. I promise."

Try as I might, I was mute with fear. Finally meeting her gaze, lower lip trembling, I gave up, shamefully shaking my head.

Taking my hands in hers, Mom put me out of my misery, softly saying the words I couldn't bear to speak. 

"It's me, isn't it, Ricky?" she asked gently.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I was choked with emotion. "God Mom, I'm soooo sorry, but I can't help it! You make me feel so good when I think about you, you're so beautiful and sexy, but I know it's wrong, so wrong! I feel excited and awful at the same time - I'm a horrible pervert! How can you even look at me?"




Beyond the Borderline



There it was, out in the open. I loved my mom, as a son, but wanted her so much as a woman.

Mom smiled kindly and enveloped me in a big hug, kissing the top of my head. "You poor sweet boy. That secret must be tearing you up inside. It's okay honey. Truly. It's okay," she soothed. "What you're feeling is normal - N-O-R-M-A-L," she spelled out. 

"I've known for some time now how you felt, but you need to know it's perfectly okay for a fella your age to have those feelings. It's really one of the biggest, best compliments a growing young man can pay to his mom. I'm not mad at all. Actually, I'm VERY flattered that I can get a hunky, young guy all riled up at my age – but more importantly, I still love my son this minute as much as I did before he told me, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed with tremendous relief. "But Mom, you don't look old at all. All of my friends say you're a real babe," I added somewhat boldly.

She laughed and ruffled my hair. "I'm going to have to watch myself around you, handsome. You're already turning into quite the smooth talker," she said warmly and strangely, with a little bit of pride.

Somewhat more seriously, she added, "Ricky, you just joined a club with about a billion other members. I wouldn't worry about your feelings towards me for another second. You're going to find out soon enough that this is just a phase you're going to go through. It's an almost universal phenomenon in young guys. You'll work through it just fine and be okay when you come out on the other side of this - you'll probably even laugh about it then, and I'll laugh with you," she said wistfully. 

"My boy is turning into a young man," she sighed, giving me another big hug.

Feeling greatly relieved, I got around to the other thing that was bothering me. 

"Mom, I think we've lost some of the time we used to be able to spend together. It seems that all we can do occasionally is to watch a movie, but then we're both so busy with other stuff, I don't know what to do. I guess I just miss being with you, you know, hanging out. I'd really like to spend more time with you."

"Well, you've said a real mouthful there, bucko. I'm feeling a little bit the same way, but you know things can and have to change over time, especially as you grow up some more. You've got your own life to live and build and part of that is being more your own person, spending more time doing things you must do and want to do for yourself. I'm not going to spend extra time with you at the expense of your regular friends, athletics or your schoolwork." 

She looked past me, eyes focused on some thought she was developing. "Tell you what, sport. We don't have enough hours in the day for all the things we want to do, so we'll have to make lemonade out of our lemons. Let's go to the kitchen. Momma's gonna teach you how to help with the cooking. That way we get a little more time together but we don't have to take time away from the other things we need to accomplish."

"Mom! I'm a GUY! Guys don't do that kind of stuff!"

"Indeed!" she snorted in amusement. "You know Bobby-Joe Boudreaux?"

"Duh, of course, Mom. He's the Cajun bar-b-que king on the Restaurant Channel."

"I'll have you know that he's one our firm's clients. He owns 5 restaurants, employs at least 200 people and is pulling down over a million a year, AFTER taxes. A casino in Las Vegas is after him to open a named restaurant in a deal that on its own is going to be worth at least 4 times that much all by itself." 

She then dug the knife in a little further. " I also happen to know that he owns a Jag XK and a Lamborghini Gallardo, along with a condo overlooking Central Park." She then whispered conspiratorially, "I'm pretty sure he has at least 3 or 4 girlfriends in his current collection and I've heard that one of them models for Victoria's Secret!"

"No way, Mom! He's not even that good-looking!"

"'Way', young man. Very 'way.'"

"Damn."

"Watch your mouth, Ricky! I thought that might get your attention. Now, I'm not saying this is what I think you should do with your life, but I do know you're smart, hardworking and creative," she smiled. "You've already made me very proud, you know." She gave me a big hug and kissed my forehead. "I suppose what I'm getting at here is that my client wakes up every morning looking forward to his day. When you get older, you'll understand how important that is."

"I'll bet he likes waking up every day, especially with Miss V.S. to look at in the morning."

"Hush, you naughty boy! You know very well that's not what I'm talking about! The point here is that if you're really good at something and have a passion for it, the material rewards will follow that too. Most importantly, you're very likely going to be happy in your life."

"Okay, Mom, I think I understand. Let's get to work. What are we cooking tonight?"

"That's my boy. We're going to have a good time, I just know it. You'll thank me for this later, I'm sure."

"How so, mom?"

"Well, as young man who is now beginning to notice the charms of the opposite sex, I'll let you in on a secret. Women are absolute suckers for men who can cook, myself included."





Beyond the Borderline



"Ricky! What a wonderful and thoughtful idea. Jen will be absolutely thrilled. You can count on me. We'll make sure to have your mom out of the house for the day for your preparations. Don't you worry about your budget - I've got your back on this one. I do have one suggestion, though," she paused. I listened attentively. Nana was the best chef of all of us and I knew that Mom's own considerable abilities were due in large measure to her mother's tutelage.

"I have two words for you, young chef: 'St. Emilion.' Yes," she mused, "Preferably a '95 or '98, since this is a special occasion."

I was still very early in my knowledge of cooking and knew even less about wines. "Isn't that pretty expensive, Nan?"

"Yes indeed, but with your permission, I'd like to make it our contribution to the celebration. Besides," she teased, "If you slip up on the dinner, we'll have a great bottle of wine to fall back on for distraction!"

"Nana!" I protested. "No way I'm going to mess this up."

She laughed and pinched my cheek as only a grandmother can do. "I know, grandson mine. I can tell you have been getting ready for this for some time. A noble effort in the kitchen deserves a noble wine to accompany it."

With that, Nana and I set our plans into motion.

That year, Mom's birthday fell on a Saturday, which worked well for our conspiracy. Nana and Gramps got Mom out the door before noon, leaving me to my devices. My planning and preparations went off without a hitch, leaving me a bit of extra time to prepare our setting for the repast. I had Nana's permission to use her best Wedgewood china and the family silverware. I lit the dining room with candles and went back to my room to print out the menu for the evening.

When Gramps and Nana returned with Mom, I was waiting at the front door.

I took Mom's arm in mine and guided her to the dining room. "If Madame will step this way, her table is ready." Her favorite CD was already playing, Glenn Gould's peerless rendition of Bach's Goldberg Variations.

"Ricky, what's all this? What are you doing?"

I escorted her to her chair and presented her with the menu.

"Happy birthday, Mom."

Mom scanned the menu, her hand jumping to her mouth, covering it in her surprise.

"Ricky! This is wonderful, so thoughtful, so special! How did you manage this?"

"Well Mom, I had some planning help from Gramps and Nana, but the cooking is all mine," I said with pride. "I wanted to show you how much I love and appreciate you."

"My god, I'm so impressed! Look at this - it must have taken hours! She showed her copy of the menu to Nana and Gramps. "Soup, salad, lamb, risotto, there's even an amuse-bouche!" she gushed.

"I had some help in intelligence gathering," I said, nodding to Gramps.

Mom's eyes narrowed when she saw the Bordeaux named. "Ricky, where did you get the money for this? That wine, it' s nearly $300 a bottle!"

"Easy there, Jen" Gramps interjected. "That's our contribution to the celebration. This is an occasion, after all."

"It most certainly is. That being the case, I want to thank all of you - it's simply wonderful. I can't wait to start!"

The wine flowed and the courses came out smoothly. I was actually able to sit at table a little bit and savor their enjoyment of the meal. It was one of my proudest and most cherished memories.

When the table had been cleared and everyone's chairs pushed back, Gramps cleared his throat and spoke. I stood at Mom's side. Her hand found mine.

"Rick, I've been following what you've been doing in the kitchen with your mother for some time now. At first I wasn't sure whether I approved or not. I didn't want your mom turning my only grandson into some kind of wimpy nancy-boy. I have to say I'm very impressed. I've paid a lot of money in the City for meals which weren't half as good - this was a real mature, fully realized effort and I'm very proud of you, especially since you did it for your mother. You have a true talent."

Nana absolutely beamed and nodded. Mom was squeezing my hand hard enough to cut off the circulation. I was grinning fit to bust. "Thanks Gramps, you have no idea how much that means to me, coming from you."

Gramps rose from the table. "You keep up the good work, Rick. I have a feeling you'll do us all proud some day."

Nana joined Gramps, walking out to the family room. Mom followed me to the kitchen as I cleared the table. Once in the kitchen, Mom threw herself into my arms, hugging me fiercely, kissing my cheeks and forehead before laying her head on my chest. "Ricky, that was so wonderful, so sweet and so unexpected," I almost don't know what to say. You're the most wonderful son any mother could possibly have. It was all so well done, so much care and work obviously went into everything, right down to the music...I love you so much sweetheart!" She was tearful with emotion now.

"Please don't cry Mom."

"Don't be silly. Women are allowed to get a little weepy when they are very, very happy, like I am now."

I was acutely aware of Mom's body against mine. We were in contact from thigh to shoulder, her breasts pressed against my sternum, her head on my shoulder. I felt sure that she could probably feel my heart, which was pounding at a mile a minute. Her familiar smell of soap and sandalwood wafted to my nose, intoxicating me more than any wine possibly could.

"It's the least I could do Mom, you're everything to me."

Mom hugged me tighter still and I began to feel the stirrings of a major woody in my pants. I desperately wanted the hug to continue, but I also was frantic that Mom would feel my burgeoning erection. I felt absolutely certain that my arousal was obvious to Mom, but she gave no clue, continuing the hug. Finally, I simply had to break our embrace.

"Well, I better finish the cleanup. Happy birthday again, Mom."

"Thank you so much Ricky. I'll cherish this memory as long as I live," she said with a tender smile, eyes bright with emotion.

Par for my course, I finished the evening in a state of elation and conflicted lust. Just before she retired, Mom sought me out as I was leaving the bathroom, having just finished brushing my teeth. She hugged me again, looking into my eyes.

"Thanks again Ricky. You're so special to me."

"You're more than welcome, Mom. I'm so glad I made you happy."

Then I did something so bold, so impulsive, so incredibly stupid, that I couldn't believe myself later. 

I kissed Mom lightly on her lips and then fled to my room, leaving her standing in the hallway with a stunned look on her face.

Once in my room, I flung myself onto the bed, banging my head repeatedly on the headboard in frustration. How could I be such an absolute idiot? What the HELL was I thinking? I began to fear for my sanity and self-control. The meticulous mental partition I created between my private fantasies and the real waking world I shared with my mother was in danger of collapsing completely. How could I let Mom discover that my feelings for her were NOT a passing phase? I fell in love with her more each day and my desires to be with her, to be her lover, were turning into an uncontrollable force, I feared. If she learned the true depth and intensity of my feelings, her revulsion and disgust would know no bounds. It was absolutely unbearable.

Not surprisingly, after a while there came a quiet knock at my door.

"Can I come in, Ricky?" she asked softly.

I groaned inwardly. "Yeah Mom, door's unlocked," I said resignedly.

She sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand, kissing the back before clasping it in both of hers.

"We need to get a few things out in the open, son."

I nodded mutely, afraid to speak.

Mom began to speak, kindly but firmly. "Kissing your Mom on the lips like you just did is not appropriate, sweetheart. You do not want to go down this road with me. You're a hormonally impaired young man who has a glaringly obvious crush on his own mother. I will not allow you to become infatuated with me. I will not allow any intemperate displays of your feelings in this regard." 

"Believe it or not, I can appreciate how you might be feeling right now, but you have to get a grip on yourself and learn how to control your impulsive behavior. I'll forgive that kiss as a one-time, birthday indiscretion, but there better not be any more of those shenanigans. You will absolutely not cross that line again. There will be absolutely nothing more between us, except a normal mother-son relationship. Are we crystal clear on this?"

I nodded again, tears filling my eyes. "I'm soooo sorry Mom. I didn't want to upset you or hurt you, no way, not ever. But...but...I can't seem to help how I feel about you. I can't get you out of my head!"

"Every girl I see in the hallway at school, every pretty woman I pass on the street, I always end up comparing them to you," I said miserably.

As I spoke, Mom's eyes bored into me, her expression stony, her jaw set and lips thinned with suppressed anger. As I watched her struggle to contain her emotions, I braced myself for an explosion.

Finally, patience and motherly concern seemed to win out and her demeanor softened for a moment. "I know this is probably very hard for you to cope with, but things are going back to normal as of right this minute. If you think you need professional help, we'll get it for you," she said squeezing my hand sympathetically.

Sighing, Mom got up from my bed. She seemed somehow shrunken, shoulders slumped and a bit listless. "I always felt that we had a wonderful, close and loving relationship. If you place any value at all on that, on the real love I have for you, you'll get your act together right now. I can't tell you how sorry I am that things came to this pass."





Beyond the Borderline



"Here's the deal hotshot. You need to get out and socialize. You need to see how many wonderful girls there are out there. I can't and won't be the only star in your romantic universe. You've been as good as your word so far, for which you have my admiration and respect, but I think this is a very important step for you to be taking now."

"I understand, Mom, but you can't expect me to acquire a girlfriend with a snap of my fingers."

She looked me up and down with a frankly measuring eye, reaching to squeeze my biceps appreciatively. "I think you'd be surprised, Ricky. You're a pretty handsome guy. Your running, swimming and weight room time are paying noticeable dividends and you have a certain charm about you that young ladies will have a hard time resisting."

"Mom!"

"But me no buts," she said, brooking no disagreement. "My professional, womanly appraisal is that you are definitely hunky." She smiled, squeezed my arm and ruffled my hair for the first time in ages. "Just remember, be your usual confident and assured self. The girls will be clawing and scratching to get at you, believe me." She paused for a moment, looking at me more seriously. "I know you're still carrying a bit of a torch for me, Ricky, but you've been good as gold lately, and I appreciate your maturity and restraint. You've done a tremendous amount of growing up in the past few months." 

"Dr. Mom's prescription right now is to find a nice girl your own age. Do some necking and exploring together. Discovering intimacy with someone your own age is a sweet reward of being young. You shouldn't miss that."

"Wow, Mom. I hardly know what to say. I feel a bit sandbagged. Are you saying I should just hook up with one of my classmates, simply for fun?"

"Just get out there and see what happens, Ricky. You're a very nice young man. I'm also sure you're a gentleman and you wouldn't deliberately hurt any girl you were, uhm, with. I just want you to have a normal life, seeing and doing all the things young folks your age do," she said. I thought I could almost detect a note of pleading in her voice.

"Okay, Mom, I'll do my best, but I don't think it's going to be as easy as you say to meet girls." Inside, I was almost a little angry with her. How could I possibly make a serious effort to go out on dates with girls when I was in love with a woman?

"Remember, 'Fortune favors the brave,' Ricky."

"As my general, my mother commands," I replied, sketching off a casual salute.





Beyond the Borderline



"I'm fine, Ricky, go to bed, get some sleep."

"Let me know if you need anything, Mom. I mean it, anything, okay?"

" I just need to rest right now," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.

I went to my room and proceeded to toss and turn for hours. Finally sleep took me, my dreams worse than my waking thoughts. Some undetermined time later, I was startled awake in deep darkness. The alarm at my bedside read 3:25. Mom was sitting on the edge of my bed, eyes red, and her face haggard. Holding my hand. She whispered, "I'm sorry Ricky, I can't seem to get to sleep."

"That's okay, Mom." I covered myself with the blanket and sheets, sliding to the edge of my bed, against the wall, patting the mattress next to me. "Snuggle up here, if you like."

"Thanks," she said, with a ghost of a smile. She lay down on top of the covers, spooning up against me. I put my arms around her, drawing her close, rotating my hips slightly to conceal my totally inappropriate hard on. 

I held her tightly with one arm and gently stroked her shoulders with my free hand. I whispered in her ear, "It's all right Mom, you can sleep now. I love you."

Within minutes, she had relaxed, her breathing slow and regular, but I couldn't fall asleep to save my life. I tasted black, bitter irony, knowing I would have signed a contract in blood only a day ago to get my beautiful mother in my bed like this, but now having to put all of my lustful-loving thoughts into the deep freeze. 

Thank God she was wearing man pajamas. Anything more feminine and I would have been in deep, deep trouble. Sighing, I scrunched down under the covers, trying to keep my straining cock away from her buttocks. 

Eventually, I fell asleep, only to be jolted awake by the ringing of our phone. I struggled awake, the room a blur as I tried to blink away the residue of dried tears in my eyes.

My alarm said it was 8:00. Mom was still out like a light, but had somehow turned around during her sleep so she was facing me, one arm around my torso, her face close to my chest. I could feel the moist warmth of her breath across my pecs as she exhaled every breath. I was suddenly aware of how huge my morning wood was, only inches from the front of her thighs. 

The phone continued to ring. Grumbling under my breath, I quickly and gingerly worked my way from under the covers. As I straddled Mom's form on all fours, struggling to get to the edge of the bed without waking her, my cock popped out of my pajama bottoms in all its early morning glory. Mom's breathing changed and she seemed to stir. Cursing silently, I essentially rolled the rest of the way off the bed, hitting the floor with a soft thump as I stuffed Mr. Johnson back where he belonged. I then rushed quickly to the kitchen to get the phone.

The call was from Mr. Briggs, one of the senior partners at Mom's firm. 

"Hi. This is Art Briggs. Is this Rick I'm speaking to?"

"Yessir."

"We got your message from last night," he said in a concerned voice. "Is Jennifer all right?"

"She's sleeping right now. She had a rough night."

"If I may, could you tell me what's happened?"

Having to actually say it out loud proved to be nearly impossible. My voice broke and I could not hide my anguish. "My grandparents were killed in an accident yesterday..." I couldn't continue.

"Dear God. This is terrible, terrible news. I'm so sorry, Rick. I know from things your mother has said that you were all quite close." Clearly struggling to marshal his thoughts, he asked, "Please let me know what we can do to help."

"I'm not really sure, Mr. Briggs. I guess we need to make funeral arrangements and stuff like that, but I need to talk with Mom before anything else. Can I have her call you back when she wakes up?"

"Please do. Anything we can do, anything at all, she just has to ask. Have her call my private line when she gets up, I'll be waiting."

"Thanks."

"Take care, son. We're all thinking about you. Don't forget, anything you need, any questions, that goes for the both of you. If you need someone to talk to, I'm available any time. Let me give you my private number."

I took down the information and left the notepad on the kitchen table. I was suddenly feeling terribly drained. Pausing first in the bathroom, I made my way back to bed. 

Mom was still asleep, her back now turned to my former position in the bed. I carefully eased over the top of her, back to my original location, scrunched up against the wall. I knew I couldn't trust myself to lie on top of the bed next to her, so I carefully shimmied back under the sheets. As I settled back in, Mom suddenly rolled over, facing me, her eyes still closed. Mumbling in her sleep, she again burrowed her head against my chest and flung her arm over me. Sighing, I did my best to ignore the newly resurgent hardness in my PJs. Once again I could feel her warm breath flowing over me, her arm curled tightly around my torso. 

The conflicting emotions I was experiencing threatened to drive me mad. I reveled in our closeness, feeling an incredible tenderness as Mom held on to me, but at the same time I was absolutely throbbing with desire, consumed by waves of guilt that I could not control myself for even one minute, especially now, when Mom needed me the most. How could I possibly be excited at this minute, with Nana and Gramps gone? "Jesus H. Christ, Rick!" I thought to myself. "Get a fucking grip! Your Mom needs you to be there for her and all you can do is get a boner!" I felt like an absolute shit. 

Somehow, I fell asleep again, awakening later with a jolt from troubled dreams, as I felt Mom touching my face. 

"I'm sorry, Ricky. You were moaning in your sleep. Are you okay?"

Struggling to wakefulness, I croaked, "Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. Just a bad dream. What about you?"

Mom gave me a ghost of a smile. "Thanks for sharing your bunk with me, sweetheart. I don't think I'd have gotten a wink without you."

"Anything you need, just tell me. I'm here for you, Mom."

She sighed and a tear trickled out of the corner of each eye. "You're my anchor, Ricky. You're such a good son."

I gave her a hug and kissed her forehead. "We're going to be okay. Just tell me what I can do."

"Please hold me for just a couple more minutes, sweetie."





Beyond the Borderline



"Good morning, sweetie. You're already awake. Did you get enough sleep?" she asked dreamily. She was smiling gently, her face smooth for the first time in days, now only slightly careworn. I wanted so much to brush the hair off her forehead and kiss her

"I'm good, Mom."

"Are you sure? I've been imposing on you for quite a while now."

"You know there's no chance you could ever really 'impose' on me, Mom."

She ruffled my hair, this time more slowly and gently than usual, almost a caress. Then she bussed my cheek, catching the corner of my mouth. I'm sure that kiss wasn't intended to land where it did, but for all of its innocence, she may as well have hit me over the head with a fencepost. I held my composure with only the greatest of difficulty.

"Thanks for everything Ricky. I can't tell you how much help you've been this past week. I wouldn't have made it without you, sweetheart," she said warmly.

"I'll always be here for you, Mom. All we have now is each other."

As Mom hugged me tightly, I shuddered inwardly. How could she not sense the state of my cock? I was rampantly erect and the front of my pajamas were damp. There was no possible way Mom could fail to perceive my condition. And yet, she gave no indication as she hugged me, no sign that she was aware of my arousal. 

I squeezed her back and extricated myself from her embrace. "Sorry Mom, gotta hit the head."

When I returned, Mom was already back in her bedroom. I heard the shower start up. I threw myself back on my bed with a sigh. As I rolled face down into the covers, I could still smell her in the pillow and feel the residual warmth of her body in the sheets and mattress. Breathing in deeply, I rolled on to my back again, reaching into my pants with a groan. Grabbing a bottle of lotion at my bedside, I stroked myself furiously, my head turned into the pillow we shared, inhaling her scent as I sought relief.

After I cleaned myself up, I laid back, staring blankly at the ceiling. As much as I loved waking up with Mom each morning, I knew it wasn't going to continue indefinitely. More to the point, after today's little excitement, I was afraid that I'd do something stupid and irreversible if Mom slept in my bunk one more time. I was perilously close to the edge this morning and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to control myself again. With a mixture of relief and aching regret, I decided that I'd have to speak with Mom about it that evening.

I got dressed and headed downstairs and made us some breakfast. Mom came down a few minutes later, dressed for work.

"Mom, I thought you had the rest of the week off?"

"I need to keep myself occupied, Ricky. I can't just sit around right now. You've been a perfect son to me these past few days, but I can't lean on you indefinitely. My work is piling up and you're going back to school in just a couple days. We need to get back into some kind of routine now."

Mom took a couple of bites of the toast I made and drained her coffee in three long gulps. She gave me a long, fierce hug and kissed me on both cheeks. 

"I'm going to be okay, Ricky, mostly because of you. You've turned into a fine young man and I'm very proud of you, you know."

"Thanks, Mom."

"I'll see you at supper time, hotshot." She took my hand gave it a strong squeeze. "I'm going to be okay, Ricky. I mean it. Things are going to be fine. I'm going to be sad for a while, but I know my wonderful son is there for me when I need him."

With that, she hugged me once more and then, to my surprise, gave me a quick peck on the lips just before sweeping out the door.

I stood there getting linoleum burns on my chin for a couple of seconds before I got my brain back in gear. I dashed towards the garage but something made me stop in the darkened doorway. I could see Mom inside her car, leaning forward. Both hands gripped the steering wheel and her forehead rested against its top. She stayed in that position for a couple of moments and then slowly raised her, head, tilting the rearview mirror to look at herself. She appeared to stare at her reflection, unblinking for about ten or fifteen seconds and then shook her head with a small smile and then turning, backed out of the garage. I didn't see her again until after six.

That evening, things were determinedly back to normal. Mom ate dinner quickly and retired to her office to work on her backlog. I watched TV until bedtime. Mom came out of her office, gave me a perfunctory peck on my cheek and a quick hug and then bade me goodnight. She strode purposefully into her own room, closed the door quietly and that was that. 

Well, one "pressing" problem was now solved. I no longer had to worry about resisting the temptation to molest my mother every morning. I was now left with the mystery of Mom's kiss and her behavior in the car before she left for work. I couldn't begin to fathom what had happened, especially with Mom so decisively returning things to routine when she got home, but I still had the strange feeling that the universe had slipped just a little bit sideways into territory that I didn't fully understand. I had a very clear sense that my relationship with Mom had subtly changed, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.