Into Dust

Literotic asexstories – Into Dust by RWesson,RWesson Into Dust

This could have gone in multiple categories. However, so as not to spoil the story more than necessary, (and with the point that it’s in this category, too late for one point, and the tags to help folks find it years from now will spoil some others) I’ll save the more important remarks for the ending.

I hope you find this story interesting. It’s been rattling around for five months before I started writing it, then it came through quickly, though it did morph a bit (to work better flow-wise).

– – – – –

I sat in the folding chair, wearing my finest black suit, my shoes showing a spit shine taught to me by my now long gone grandfather, from his days as a pilot in the Army Air Corp. To my left was my oldest son, Brandon, the 23 year old keeping a tight grip my hand. To my right, my 20 year old daughter Cassandra rested her hand on my knee, gently squeezing it every time she realized how close to tears I was. Behind me, with his left hand on my right shoulder and his right hand on Cassandra’s left shoulder was Cassandra’s twin brother, David. All four of us were dressed in black, holding a single white rose in our laps.

In the distance, I could hear the call of a morning dove, cooing softly in the small copse of woods a hundred feet or so behind us. The sky was a deep azure blue, bluer than I think I’d ever seen here. All around, I could hear a low murmur from the people gathered with us in that grassy field, dotted with upright stone markers. Above us the canopy was still, as if the air was otherwise stagnant on that lazy summer early afternoon.

And all I could see, all I could concentrate on, was what laid before me, the end of my hopes, my dreams, my joy, my fears, my love.

The walnut casket, with it’s bright brass bars, glistened in the sunlight. The flower arrays spread around and draped over it did nothing to disguise the loss, the horror, that I felt inside. Even surrounded by my only living relatives, her and my closest friends, and a few choice co-workers, both of hers and mine, I felt, for the first time in my entire life, alone. Susan was gone.

– – –

Nine weeks. Nine weeks ago, we had been so happy, still so much in love after all these years, still smiling at each other, still making slow, passionate love three or more times a week, still going on our little dates. Nine weeks ago, everything seemed normal. Oh, she’d been a little more tired lately, but that happens when you hit 60, as she had done just four months ago. But besides that, we didn’t have a clue.

Eight weeks ago, she’d gone into the doctors to try to adjust whatever medication out of her change of life pills he’d started that caused her fatigue. He hadn’t been concerned, but he couldn’t see how they were related, so he order blood tests.

Six weeks ago, the results came back. The serious, concerned voice of the doctor calling and asking us both to come in. Tests and more tests before us. I remember her crying in my arms as we got the news. Stage 4. No chance, we’d caught it far too late. Six months, he said. She barely made it five weeks.

Five weeks ago we were still in the bargaining stage. Chemo! Radiation! Something… give us something. So Susan started Chemo. I held her hand, and her hair, as she threw up. She lost weight, then she lost her frosted golden hair. She slowly lost hope.

Four weeks ago, we stopped love making. She was too nauseous, too much pain. I held her at night, while she quietly wept, both from fear, for her, the kids, and for me, and from pain, from the Chemo. I remember the conversation we had after the third round, at 2 am, in our big four poster bed, the site of so many happy and joyous moments over the years. No more. She could take no more. I stayed strong, for her, as she had taught me… but inside, I died. It was the first time I actually accepted that I was going to lose her.

I’d always known I was likely to outlive her, the sixteen, nearly seventeen, year age difference had strongly suggested that. She’d even told me many times when we’d discussed “the far future” that she hoped she went first, that she didn’t know how she’d take losing me. She had, at the time, twenty years earlier, joked she’d throw herself into the grave with me if I went first, though I reminded her that with our three kids, we needed to be there for them, and for their children.

But realizing that “the far future” was months, or less, away hurt. I was only 43. That’s too young to be a widower, to young to lose the love of my life, the mother of my children.

Three weeks ago, she rallied. We had a big family dinner, but invited our friends and neighbors. I remember Susan’s smile; the smile was nearly as radiant as the one she gave me the day I told her I wanted her to be my wife. She beamed with pride over the family she’d made, how good looking (her words) our sons were, how beautiful our daughter.

That night, even as tired as she was, even as much pain as she was in, she begged me to make love to her again; she needed to feel the closeness, the love, the normality of what had been our life. The gentle murmurs of pleasure were low, especially compared to how vocal she’d been most of our time together. I’d done my best to fire every pleasure sensor in her body during those late night hours; It reminded me more of some of the more sensual lovemaking “lost weekends” we’d had during our earliest days, before Brandon. I took it slow, as if she was made of the finest china. She urged me to take her, to remind her that she had given herself to me body and soul twenty five years ago. She reminded me I was hers to use, as she was mine. The third, and final, session that night was a slow, languid climb up the hill, staring into each other’s eyes, her legs wrapped around me, her arms around my neck, mine around her, holding her tightly to me, as we kissed, snuggled, licked, nipped, smiled, and sighed, lasting over an hour before I finally inundated her with the evidence of my love for her.

It was a memory, I knew, meant to keep me warm at night for these long future days of emptiness, a gift she was giving to me. It wasn’t the last time we made love, that had been only four days before her passing a week ago…. but it was the last session she was able to hide her discomfort enough that I was able to truly feel the depths of her love for me.

She went down quickly after that night; perhaps that had taken too much from her, though over those last three weeks, she was the one begging me to make love to her, to, as she put it, send her to eternity knowing how wonderful our love had been; I would have been content just to hold her, feeling her warmth against mine, the soft satin of her skin against my chest. But she begged, even emotionally blackmailed me, saying things like “Don’t you still want me?” and “I need to feel you again.” to pull down my fears of hurting her.

In the end, our last time was short, but sweet, as I held her up in my arm in her favorite cowgirl position. Weak, but still loving, I’m not sure if she fell asleep or actually passed out after her final orgasm. I do know the contented smile on her lovely face as I laid her gently back down, wrapping my arms around her.

It was the same look on her face four days later, as she whispered to me, “I love you Tommy. Thank you for the life we’ve had, thank you for loving me as much as I’ve loved you.” I felt an icy grip of pain on my heart at her words, and it’s meaning, knowing that she hadn’t meant to hurt me, didn’t even know she had. But they were her last words, as she closed her eyes and slowed her ragged breathing. The smile brightened, just a little, when I whispered back to her, “It’s been my honor to be blessed with your love.”

A short moment later, she gasped in pain. And she was gone.

– – –

“…. and gently wipe every tear from your eyes. Amen. May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Go in the peace of Christ -THANKS BE TO GOD.” The words being intoned by priest brought me back out of my thoughts to the here and now.

As the men performing the work duties slowly lowered the casket, I felt Cassandra lean in to me and whisper, “Dad, we’ll get through this. You know we will. Stay strong, just a little longer, for mom.” David gently squeezed my shoulder, hearing the words of his sister just loud enough for we four. The gentle reassurance was echoed by the accompanying squeeze of my left hand by Brandon.

As I sat there, I thought back on my life as a whole, growing up with my Mom and Dad as a child, then later Mom, my Grandfather, Paul, and my Grandmother, Mary. It had been a wonderful, if sad, sometimes, childhood, with love everywhere. I’d grown into that love, even reveled in it as a child and later as a teen.

– – –

My dad, Tom, had started things, almost 45 years ago. He had been 27, a hotshot just out of the Navy, single and in town for his new job. He never realized that the beautiful blonde girl in the bar he found her in was underage, using a good fake ID. With his charm, honed over years of chasing women (his words; he told me the story often enough after I was twelve) all around the world, a new girl in every port, to use the phrase, the naive young 16 year old was putty. He always told me it was love at first sight for him, he was smitten with her from the moment she introduced herself.

In retrospect, he told me, it was the worst thing he’d ever done, and the greatest; he’d found mom, the love of his life. Per the both of them, nothing happened other than a bit of heavy petting and kissing that first week, when he found her there in the early evenings. He never realized that her “I have to leave by 10:00” line meant because of a curfew. I’ve seen photos of her during that time, and even remember her myself not long after; she sure as heck looked older than the, then, drinking age of 18.

He was her first; how could he know how young she was? He didn’t learn that out until a month later, when she was in tears, telling him about the new life they had created. It was only when he said he’d do the honest thing and marry her that he found out her true age.

My grandfather, years later, told me of the conversation that followed. He’d beaten my father, who refused to defend himself, for a good five minutes before my grandmother and mom managed to calm him down. Even bleeding, with what turned out to be a broken nose and a cracked rib, dad asked for permission to marry mom. The incongruity of the bleeding, prone man, begging for his daughter’s hand had somehow soothed my grandfather enough that he accepted what had happened.

Mom was a Junior in High School when I was born. She and dad were living in a small apartment less than a mile from my grandparent’s house. Based on my experience with the births of my children, they must have really struggled during those first couple of years. My earliest date-able memory is of my mom’s High School Graduation a year and a half later.

Dad worked as an industrial electrician those years, using some of the skills he’d picked up in the Navy. The Dodge plant in town made good use of his skills; mom, on the other hand, went to the local college, the same school I would, one day, attend for a year. During the day, I spent my time with my grandmother, who’d always been a stay at home mom when mom was in school.

Life was good. We moved out of that apartment when I was eight, and there was a lot of love. Considering how big of an age difference there was, and how they came together over me, they were in love. Mom constantly giggled and smiled around dad, and he had the biggest grin on his face most of the time. “I have the prettiest young wife around.” was something I heard more than once in my life. He adored her, and she was in love, too.

The house we bought was closer to her work, working as a nurse, but much further from his. It felt strange, those years, not seeing my grandparents every day, only on the weekends, since they were now over thirty miles away. It was the first “sad time” in mine and my mother’s life. I had grown up to that point with Paul and Mary constantly being in my life, day in, day out.

Five years in, and they were still happy and in love. Most kids probably don’t want to hear their parents making love; I heard it most nights. I heard it that last night, too, and in retrospect, it might be partially why what happened, happened.

I was thirteen, listening to them in the next room that evening. For some reason, although not THAT uncommon, they were still going at 1:00 in the morning; I’d fallen asleep, only to be woken by the gentle knocking on the wall and my mom’s muffled screams when the phone rang (this was before cell phones were that common).

What I learned later was that there had been a problem, and a number of machinery had suddenly stopped working at the plant; they were calling ALL of the electricians to come in, even those off shift, to troubleshoot what had happened. Normally, Dad wouldn’t have been awake until 6:45, but instead, with absolutely no sleep and what must have been a tad bit of exhaustion for the 41 year old after such a prolonged night of passion, he got dressed.

I heard his last words to my mom, even as he tried to keep it low so as to not wake me.

“I’ll call you in the morning to let you know what they’re going to do for my hours, and what time I’ll be home. Go to sleep, baby. I love you.”

And with that, Dad exited our lives. The doorbell ringing four hours later was what woke me up in the morning. Mom stumbled to get dressed, and I could hear her muttering about rude people as she went to answer it. I don’t know what was said. I don’t know if she fell to her knees right away, or sank slowly. She was on her knees crying by the time I was able to get dressed enough to come find out why she was screaming.

Dad’s life insurance didn’t want to pay out until the lawsuit against the overnight delivery driver’s company finished. There was always the extenuating circumstance that Dad never slowed down; it was likely he was too slow to react when the truck pulled out in front of him. But pay out they did, $200K, doubled due to the accident. And the company paid, too, to the tune of an additional $500K.

It was small consolation for losing my best friend, and my mom losing her husband and lover.

All told, with his retirement savings, and with selling the house and moving back in with my grandparents, mom banked $1.1M. Even now, that’s a respectable amount, but thirty years ago? She stopped working at the doctor’s office, to concentrate on raising me. Paul and Mary gave their daughter and grandson a firm emotional backstop as we recovered from our loss.

Two doting women were around me all the time I wasn’t in school. Over time, mom began to smile again, and the world lit up again. My pain, too, started to ease, and after a year, I didn’t hear her cry herself to sleep every night. Oh, she still cried herself to sleep, sometimes… but it wasn’t every night any more. And Grandpa Paul, who had grown to feel my father had been a son to him, took over the job of being my male role model.

It was the following summer I had my first girlfriend. By that point, I was 15. She was a year older than me, though in my class in school. I’d known her since we still lived in the apartment, but we’d always before just been friends, and I’d of course had a lot less contact after we’d moved to the house.

It was so heartbreaking. All of my thoughts centered on the cute, raven haired, Tracy, how her lips felt, the feelings I felt when held her. It was glorious! It was puppy love. I pulled away from my two strong women, and to this day, I still regret it.

Tracy broke up with me at the end of that summer, between our Freshman and Sophomore years, for what, it feels, is the stupidest possible reason; because she had a drivers license, and I didn’t, she had always driven us on our dates. She wanted her boyfriend to squire HER around, not the other way. I had paid for the dates, but she’d had to borrow her parent’s car and drive. It didn’t matter than in five months, I’d be driving, too. She was young, and wanted everything, all at once. Her next three boyfriends drove her, until one wrapped daddy’s Caddy around a pole. By that point, of course, I was driving, too, so she tried to come back to me. I guess I was as immature as she was when I shot that down, as her being “shallow”. Not my finest moment, as my mom reminded me.

In fairness, I wasn’t in a good place when she came back. When I pulled away from my mother and grandparents as I entered those tough teen years in earnest, I could tell the loss of connection with me hurt my mother. She had never dated since dad’s death; she would tell me, “I don’t want anyone else. I have two of the three greatest guys I’ve ever met still in my life, with you and your grandfather.” But even that wasn’t to be for too long. Dating Tracey that summer had stolen precious time and focus from the two strong women raising me.

The night history repeated itself, I was the one who answered the door; it was just past midnight, and mom and I had become increasingly worried at how late my grandparents were from their little “mini-date” of dinner and a movie; we’d expected them back by nine or ten, and had stayed up to greet them when they got home.

We found out later that my grandfather had had a massive coronary heart attack while driving. He was probably dead before the car rolled. Grandma Mary died on the way to the hospital. And just like that, we were alone, and my already well off mother was actually moderately wealthy, but still only 33 years old.

– – –

“Dad, dad.. you need to thank everyone for coming.” Brandon whispered to me. Coming back to the present, I stood up. I wiped away the tears that had built up with my handkerchief, and turned to the gathered throng.

“On behalf of Susan, myself, Brandon, Cassandra, and David, I want to thank you all for coming. We’re going back to the house, now, and if you wish to come by for a bit, please feel welcome. It’s heartwarming to feel your sympathy and to know that Susan and I touched so many lives. I feel honored that you came. Thank you.” I intoned. I lowered my head, took my daughter’s hand again, and helped her stand. Together, with her brothers behind us, we walked to the waiting limo, shaking hands with a few well wishers on the way.

In the car, the three kids sat across from me, all three staring at me as we rode in silence for a few minutes After that pause, Brandon turned, and put up the partition window, while Cassandra and David grabbed hands, holding them tightly. All of them turned to me with glistening eyes as I felt the grief once again wash over me.

The silence was almost enough to envelope the slight amount of road noise that came into the compartment as the limo glided along. It pulled me back into my memories again.

– – –

Prom was marking the end of my High School years; I had just turned 18, and would be graduating in two weeks. Mom had taken a lot of pains to ensure that I would have a good Prom. My then on again/off again girlfriend, Julie, had agreed to go with me months earlier, at Valentines, when we’d been in an on-phase. Julie and I hadn’t made it even three weeks more before once again breaking up, but we did agree we’d still be each other’s Prom date; we were still friends, and it wasn’t the first time we’d broken up, only to come back together. I kept making arrangements, as did she. The fly in the ointment was her new boyfriend. He did not appreciate that I was taking “his” girl to Prom, and he continually worked her to drop me and go with her. When word got around from some mutual friends that she was being pressured, I took the initiative.

“Julie, I know we promised we’d still go to Prom, but I’m not going to force you to keep your promise. I know Mike wants to take you, and time’s getting short to get a date. If….” I started the phone conversation.

“No, Al, I’m going with you. I’m kinda upset that Mike’s pushing so hard after I explained it. I told him you wouldn’t be upset if I danced with him, too, and you’d dance with whoever he brought some, to keep her happy. He just won’t hear it. He’s just too… controlling. He’s known for two months I was going to Prom with you, and what was what as far as that was concerned. He’s made no effort to get himself a different date. I appreciate you trying to let me off the hook, and I might have done it if he’d gotten a date; we’d have just swapped. But at this point… I’m not doing that to you, and if he can’t respect me and my friends and promises for something like this… I’m not sure I want to keep seeing him after Prom, either.” Julie told me. I was flabbergasted; she and I were friends, but keeping her promise to me was more important to her than her boyfriends selfish desire to monopolize her time at the big event. Like I said, I was trying to let her off the hook, but it was his behavior that broke them up.

I had been Julie’s first, and she mine, as we celebrated her 18th birthday (“Black Friday”) by sneaking off while everyone else was in a turkey coma, or on a shopping trip. My 18th had been a week earlier, so we felt like celebrating. We’d become hot and heavy, enough that if Julie hadn’t been on the pill, something her parents had insisted on since she was 14, we might have recreated my own origin story to some extent, but in the end we realized we were much better friends than as a couple, leading to our March break up, and perhaps increasing Mike’s jealousy of the fact I was still taking Julie to Prom.

I could tell, getting ready for it, that mom was particularly sad. She hadn’t gone to Prom herself, because she had a toddler and a much older husband to care for. I know she was wistful over what it would have been like, but she was also experiencing it viscerally through me. What particularly surprised me was when she handed me a small box of condoms as I was adjusting my cummerbund.

“Mom? What’s this for?” I remember stupidly asking.

“Let’s just say, I know from experience what can happen when teenage hormones get to firing, and I don’t want you to have to marry some girl just because you get her pregnant on Prom Night. You do know how to use them, right?” she softly smiled at me. “My god, you look just like your father when we got married, in that suit!”

Optimistically, I opened the box and took out four before handing the box back to her. “You hold on to the rest.” I told her.

Those four were destined to not get used that night.

Julie was a vision in pink and light blue when I picked her up. After the presentation of the corsage and the required pictures taken by Julies mom, we drove back to my house briefly to let mom take a few. I could see tears glisten in her eyes as she snapped them.

Dinner was great, I took Julie to one of the best of our old “favorite” restaurants, and allowed her to order whatever she wanted. I could see some of our classmates also eating there, and everyone seemed to have a good time, although Ron, one of Mike’s best friends, kept giving me the stink eye all through the meal; I think the fact he kept trying to stare me down upset his date a bit.

We arrived at the dance, and quickly found the spiked bowl of punch. I got a cup for each of us, and we sat talking for a little while. Again, Ron gave me the stink eye, but by that point, he’d been joined by Mike. Mike was downing the punch like it was water, and he’d come stag, so he was sitting with Ron and Ron’s date. I wasn’t paying too much attention to them, but I could tell Julie wanted to dance.

Our first dance was a simple fast dance; we were grooving and shaking, laughing and smiling, but every once in a while, I’d get a glimpse of Mike and Ron’s table. After a bit, and I was actually watching them when it happened, Ron’s date picked up her cup and poured it over his head before storming off. Every eye in the place turned to see the spat. I know now that it was the final piece of lighting the fuse that came later.

We switched into a waltz shortly after that; Julie snuggled in, just as she had in some of the dances we’d done when we were a couple. I was enjoying escorting her around the floor when he hit me; I’d had only a brief, confused moment when the crowd parted as he came through to act as a warning.

The chair he used broke on me, knocking me to the ground. I remember seeing him as I rolled over, trying to protect myself from his feet, but I heard nothing except the roaring in my ears as the pain swept over me.

They pulled him off me, and got me help. It was a good few minutes before I came out of the daze, and my hearing began to work again. By that point, Mike was face down on the floor with three of the football players sitting on his back, while Julie was crying in front of me.

After the paramedics checked me out, the police wanted me to make a statement. My statement was simple, and it wasn’t until after I’d said it and everyone started laughing in that “gallows humor” kind of way that I realized how bad it was. “I’d have let him cut in if he’d just asked.”

I don’t know who got Julie home that night; the dance was pretty much over after that, ruined not just for Julie and I, but pretty much everyone there. I know that some of my friends got me home; mom was frantic with fear over what had happened when they explained why I was home at 10:45 when she thought I might not have even gotten home until after dawn.

She fussed over me, got my, now destroyed, tuxedo off me, and pulled me into her bed that night; it was bigger and softer than mine, and she could keep an eye on me overnight. In just my boxers, I felt slightly embarrassed lying in bed next to her.

She was wearing an old flannel nightgown and her robe and fuzzy slippers as she fretted all around the bed in the soft glow of the en-suite bathroom’s light in the room.

“Try to sleep, baby. Momma’s here, I’ll take care of you. If you need anything, I’m right here.” she told me after fetching some Tylenol and water for me.

I don’t know how much she slept that night. She wasn’t trying to do it, but she kept waking me up checking to make sure I was okay. Her nurse training kicked in overnight as she tried to evaluate “her patient”. Me, I slept, woke, slept, woke.

It was nearly noon the next day when the phone ringing woke me up for good. I had a massive headache, and felt every bit of the bruising that was going on from being hit. I reached over and answered, but in turning, I woke mom.

“Al, how are you doing?” Julie asked over the line. I could hear the congestion, probably from her crying all night.

“Sore as hell, with a headache to match.”, I replied, fateful words which changed the course of my life.

– – –

Bringing me back from my reverie, Brandon spoke for the first time since we’d gotten into the limo. “Dad… on behalf of myself, David, and Cassandra… I want to tell you how sorry we are. As hard as it is to lose mom…. you’ve lost her, too. And we know it’s got to be harder for you even than us.” He paused here for a moment and looked at me strangely, with a look I’d never seen in him before, but which reminded me of my own father. He leaned forward as he spoke, “Dad… we know. And we want you to know we know, and we’re good with it.”

Snapped fully out of my memory, I focused on the three of them. Brandon’s expression was odd, but Cassandra and David had a more earnest expression as they held hands. I could see the tears in Cassandra’s eyes as she and David nodded.

“Know about what?” I asked, dreading the answer that I knew would be forthcoming as I tried to deny to myself the truth of their knowledge.

“We know, Dad, about….” started Brandon.

“You….”, David added, after Brandon’s pause.

“And mom”, Cassandra stated, with a hiccup in the end.

After a pregnant pause, Brandon continued. “Dad, if… if you don’t mind…. um, how did it happen?”

– – –

Mom rapidly got out of bed as I talked to Julie, rushing over to the bathroom, intent on fulfilling her nursing duties. I heard the sound of water being poured into a cup, and the rattling of pill bottles from there as I continued.

“Everything is sore, and I’m still hearing a ringing.” I told Julie.

As mom came out of the bathroom, holding the Tylenol tablets and the water, she got her first look of me that morning. The look on her face is one I’ll never forget, especially after she dropped the water.

“Ah, shit, Julie, I’ll have to call you back later”, I told her, hanging up.

“Mom, is everything okay?” I asked, before realizing what she was looking at.

The operative two words were Morning and Wood; my erection had found the open fly of my boxers and was now proudly standing at attention, with the sheets having been thrown off when mom flew out of bed to fetch me those pills.

Realizing my situation, I grabbed the sheet and pulled it back over me. That did not have the desired effect, as instead of seeing my erect cock standing proudly, what she now saw was the sheet obscenely tented by my teenage tower.

“Honey…” she stammered out. “Some types of head injuries can cause… that.”, she nodded. “Take this, and I need to check out a few things, to ensure you’re okay”, she said, handing me the pills and a fresh cup of water.

I was mortified. I loved her, trusted her, and she had been a nurse, but most teenage boys don’t exactly go around showing their schlong to their mother.

Fate was fucking with me, though. As I took the pills, she finally glanced away from the tent, and saw my tux pants on the floor. Picking them up to throw them onto the chair, the final signpost dropped…. the roll of four condoms fell out of the pocket onto the floor.

She pulled out a small penlight and began the examination; starting with my pupils and my eye’s tracking ability. But you know how most of the time, if you concentrate and don’t have to pee a gallon, if you let time pass a morning wood will deflate? That didn’t happen.

After a few minutes, she went and got me some Sudafed, since that was supposed to reduce Priapism associated with spinal injuries. She also checked, again, my pupils. Her continually glancing at the embarrassing tenting going on to check if it was deflating actually had the opposite effect. She was still young, still beautiful, and for the first time ever, I noticed, sexy, even in her frumpy flannel nightgown and fuzzy slippers.

After fifteen minutes of her staring at it, she finally pulled the sheet back down. “Al, I need to see it to determine if it’s going down. If I can’t get it down in an hour or two, I’ll have to take you to the hospital.”

The Sudafed kept it from getting worse, but now, with her staring at it, the exposure, the sudden, new thought of ‘Oh my god, I just slept in mom’s bed all night’, and finally, the faint hint of womanly musk from her, since she was a morning shower woman, and had not yet showered, it enlarged, rather than decreased.

The more I willed it to go down, the harder it got, and it soon began to ooze precum. “Mom, I think… I think it’s okay. I just need to…. um….. release it.” were my words to her.

– – –

“How does anyone fall in love? Gradually, then all at once.” I told Cassandra. “It started with my Prom; I’ve mentioned that my Prom had been a disaster and the greatest moment in my life back when we were getting you ready for yours.” I glanced over at her twin. “I told you to watch out for David while there, and to be kind to everyone. And David…” I turned, “I told you to be careful. Oh, and there’s a reason your mother laughed when I handed both of you four condoms. It was an inside joke with us.”

“I don’t understand.” Brandon piped up. For the first time, I observed the body language between my children. Brandon sat on the right, my left, Cassandra leaned to her left, my right, into David, and he leaned towards her. The pair held hands, while Brandon had his hand over Cassandras, on her right leg. With that quick observation, I realized something.

“You didn’t use those condoms that night, did you, David? You went out with that girl, uh….” I started.

“Michelle. And no, I didn’t use them that night. Michelle was just a friend.” David replied, blushing, letting go of Cassandra’s hand.

“Nick and Michelle are a couple now, Daddy.” my daughter added, naming her date to Prom. “And no, I didn’t use mine that night, either. I did give two to Michelle, though.” she added, sitting straighter and fidgeting with her left hand awkwardly.

“You said ‘that night’….so… I suppose I don’t necessarily want to know when and how they were used, do I?” I gently prodded, causing Cassandra and David to blush.

– – –

“Release it? How… uh…” mom stammered.

“I… um… have to do that first thing in the morning most days”, I bashfully helped her through the discomfort. “I’m… uh… a teenager, and it’s kinda what we do, when we can’t get… um…”

“Laid? It’s not like I’ve never gotten laid before.” My mom stated, as red faced as I’d ever seen her. “I mean, I was a teenager when your father and I… yeah.”

“Had sex the first time? I know mom. I mean, I can figure that out. I mean, I’m 18, you’re just turning 35. By the time you were my age, you had a husband and me.” I was slowly losing the awkwardness of the moment. “Dad and I sometimes used to talk, in the last couple years. He wanted me to know what being a teenager was like, what it was like for you…”

While I don’t think, even now, she meant anything sexual with it, mom reached over to my bare thigh just below my cock and patted me. “You miss him, too, don’t you?” she asked, looking not at my throbbing manhood leaking the clear fluid, but into my eyes.

“How do you do it, mom? How can you go on, day to day, without him? I mean, you haven’t dated, you haven’t… anything since he died.” I asked her.

Changing her focus to my enlarged cock, I heard her mutter, “So much like my Tommy. So much…”

“Mom? Mom?” I called out to her, as she lightly flicked her tongue to the her upper lip and softly moved her hand, rubbing my thigh.

– – –

“Dad, we’ve known for a while. And David and I discussed it. About the two of you.” Cassandra started.

“Dad, do you really want to hear this?” Brandon interrupted her.

“I…don’t know if I need to know or not. But, I have to ask… are you in love, or just lust?” I turned to David.

“Dad… we’ve been together since… well, we’ve always been together. She’s my best friend, the only person I could ever talk with about anything. And when Linda and I broke up last year…”, David started.

“And Bill and I broke up last year…” Cassandra added.

“And we tried dating Michelle and Nick… we were double dating, and I realized as much as I liked Michelle, I wanted to spend more time with Cass. So, one night, after we dropped them off at the end of one of our double dates, I drove to the park and we talked” David continued.

“When he told me he preferred spending time with me over anyone else… I realized I preferred spending time with him, too. He was upset. So I… I kissed him.” Cassandra stated.

– – –

She reached out with her hand and lightly touched the tip of my throbbing cock. I felt an electric shock at that moment. Moving her finger through the glistening natural liquid lubricant seeping from the tip, she smeared it around the head.

“Does it hurt to be that hard, baby?” mom asked. Her finger on my cock head, softly swirling around, was all I could feel. Even without ever having sexual thoughts before about her, I couldn’t help but moan.

“Do I need to get some lotion or something?”, she asked, pulling her hand back, but not her gaze. “Um, Al, honey… uh, you look just like… just like your father.”

“Uh, lotion would be good. Or something…. ugh…”, I replied, as another small spurt of precum came out of the head.

“Oh, my poor baby!” she had replied, before reaching her hand down again, using the palm this time to smear the clear liquid ejaculate around.

– – –

“I didn’t mean to, Dad… but when she kissed me… something went off. And I don’t…” and David blushed, “uh… mean that.”

“Not then…” Cassandra brazenly quipped, before realizing just how blatantly sexual her statement was; she turned almost vermilion, before she began coughing. Beside her, Brandon, too, turned red in the face, before turning his face away to stare out the window, his ears went through the complete color gamut as he began softly shaking, stifling a laugh. It was the first time I’d seen any of the children laugh since we’d told them of her diagnosis.

And for a moment, her obvious discomfort brought me out of my introspection, reflection, and sorrow, and I smiled.

“I guess like parents, like children…”, I stage whispered, loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud it was above a whisper.

– – –

“Oh god, mom… oh…”, I moaned, as she took my phallus firmly in hand, my precum coating the entire head and part of the shaft.

“I’m sorry baby… I can’t help it. You need help with this, and I… I need to do this.”, she whispered.

Her soft pale hands moved smoothly over the length of my shaft as she inched, climbing, on her hands and knees, closer to me on her bed. The exquisite feeling of her soft, hot hand moving with it’s slight friction on my sensitive skin, up my shaft, over the head, then twisting clockwise, then counterclockwise, before sliding back down quickly became my world, as my blood rushed, my vision narrowed and blurred, and I felt the feeling of joy she brought. Each stroke took but a few seconds as she moved into a steady, driving rhythm with her hand, alternating between staring at the flesh in her hands, and my face, coaxing more droplets of precum out, only to smear them on my shaft.

“Mom…..” I groaned.

“Hush, baby. Let momma take care of you.” she shushed me, bending down towards my groin.

– – –

“We tried, dad. We knew… we’d figured it out years ago, when we were young. Everyone else always had some family… you’d talk about you dad, your grandparents… but never your mom. And mom would talk about her parents and her first husband….” David started to explain.

“We aren’t dumb. The way you guys talk… and sometimes, the things we overheard…”, Brandon added, still staring out the window.

“Like… um… you saying ‘I love you mom’ when you two were… um….”, Cassandra chipped in.

“Making love? At this point, I guess there’s no room for being shy about it, Cassandra.” I helped.

“Yeah, so, we’ve known five, maybe even ten, years now. So when Cassandra and I started to fall in love…” David continued.

“They thought you and mom, of all people, would understand. They still tried to keep it on the down low; it wasn’t until that fall I realized what they were doing.” Brandon turned back to me to explain.

“Just because we thought you two would understand… well, you might not like it.”, David finally admitted.

“Do… do you love each other? Do you make each other happy?” I asked, as any concerned parent would over a prospective partner for one of their children.

They turned and smile lightly at each other, re-grabbing each other’s hands. “Yes!” they both replied, in unison.

– – –

I felt her tongue lick the underside of my frenium before he lips lightly kissed the hole. As she pulled back slightly, her lips now glistening with my essence, she flicked her tongue to them. “Hmmmm…” was her soft moan.

“Oh god!” I exclaimed, reaching for her for the first time since she had pulled the sheet off me. Softly, I moved her silky blonde hair behind her ear and slid my hand around the nape of her skull, giving me an even better view of her.

Feeling my encouragement, or at least my acceptance, she bent further again, and quickly engulfed me into the hot liquid center of her mouth, her tongue dancing and twirling around me cockhead. Holding still briefly, I remember her soft breathe tickling my pubic hair as my now rock hard member thrust itself deep into her mouth and throat, disappearing inch by deliciously wicked and wonderful inch.

Reaching her limit in her ability to take me in, she paused, and moved her gaze away from her prize, to my eyes. Seeing the pleas in them, she began to cup my testicles as she bobbed her head, up, down, up, down, the obscene slurping sounds loud and clear as she made love to my cock.

I remember it as having been an eternity of emotions, feelings, desire, and pleasure, but as primed as she had me, I was ready to shoot off within less than two minutes of her beginning her assault on my cock.

“Mom…. I’m gonna…. I’m gonna….”; the words were inadequate to explain he depth of my feelings, but did show the nearness of my pending orgasm. She fondled, with even greater urgency, my testicles, speeding up her pace as a low moan escaped her throat.

In a fountain of color, heat, and pleasure, I erupted into her welcoming mouth.

– – –

“It’s a dangerous love, my loves, and isolating, too. No one can be entrusted to know; the world wouldn’t understand or accept. Leaving all of your old friends… your past… behind.” I explained, gently. “And the law… you can never marry legally.”

“You and mom did.” David stated simply.

“Marry? Yes we did. Legally? Well… not so much. We had to lie on our license…”, I corrected.

I stared at them for a few minutes as they absorbed what I had said.

After a few minutes of silence, Cassandra finally spoke again. “Dad, um…. so, it started because of your getting attacked at Prom? How… why? I love you, but I can’t see ever…” she awkwardly paused. “I can’t see ever doing… that… with you. I mean, I guess I’m a hypocrite…”, as she turned to David, “but it’s not like David and I… we’ve been together since even before we were born.” Her soft smile was almost one of wonder as she looked at her twin. “I mean, he’s been my best friend, my protector, my playmate…”, to which David laughed lightly, “my confidante… stop. I didn’t mean it like that… ok, like that, too.” she blushed again. Turning back to me, she continued, “I couldn’t help falling in love with him. But even as much as I love you, even as much as you mean to me… I could never see myself with you… that way. So… how did you get there? Did you… think those thoughts before then? Or did they just… happen? Like David and I?”

– – –

As I gasped out, I could feel her soft golden hair on my abdomen. I moved my hand to pull the hair away from her face, seeing her closed eyes as swallowed my morning offering. After a moment, she had opened her eyes, and looked into my face, seeing the wonder and surprise. And for the first time, I saw an expression I would come to love cross her face, one of love and lust combined. Even with my now softening cock in her mouth, the corners turned into a sly, but yet still shy, smile. Popping off, she flicked her tongue around the head one last time.

“Mom?”, I questioned.

With a pounce she moved up, running her right hand up my chest, through my chest hair and placing her face in front of mine. For a timeless moment we stared into each others eyes, that same smile on her face at first, before slowly showing signs of starting to fade. ‘She’s worried I’m upset’ crossed through my brain before my arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her face down. A look of surprise showed, for only the briefest of moments, on her face as our lips met, and then she closed her eyes, but opened her mouth. I could taste the saltiness of my offering to her, still on her breath, as my mouth opened to hers, and our tongues met for the first time.

Fireworks, every bit as powerful as what I had experienced a moment or two earlier, exploded through my brain, electrifying my senses, even as the world contracted. All that existed was her soft, warm body, pressing onto mine, her soft, wet lips on mine, her flexing tongue, doing it’s intricate tango with mine, the feel of the bed pushing up, even as her weight pushed down.

My hands began to roam; my left slipped down to her soft, firm, right butt cheek. My right hand snaked upwards on her side, rubbing the outer side of her left breast. My left leg arched up from the hip, and down at the knee; my right leg stayed mostly flat against the bed, pushed down by her body, until worming through her partially open legs as she lay atop me. My cock, still out of my boxers, smashed between us, digging into her right hip… those were the sensations of my world.

I felt myself responding, restoring, as the wriggling mass of feminine form squirmed on me as I began slightly kneading her buttock. As my hand reached and cupped her breast, I felt her palm again reach my penis, the heat of her skin warming it and helping it re-harden faster. As I heard, again, the soft moans emanating from her throat, I began to detect the faint odor of her arousal.

My mom was as turned on as I was.

My left hand felt the lower edge of her robe as my lower legs felt the thump of her slippers being kicked off her feet. Pulling slightly upward, she moved to shrug of her robe, her lips never leaving mine. Her right hand disengaged from stroking my now re-hardened cock as she pulled the arm out of the robe, allowing it to drape across her back while she still wore it on her left side.

I reached lower, again, and gathered the flannel fabric of her nightgown, pulling gently upwards, as my right hand released her breast to pull on the left sleeve of her robe, pulling it down, off her back, onto her wrist. Just as my hand reached the lower hem of her nightgown, she broke the frantic kiss and leaned upwards and away.

Opening her eyes, again, she gazed at me with love, lust, wonder, joy, before shrugging the robe the rest of the way off. I tugged again on the bottom of her nightgown, and I could see the slightest hesitation. With one final moan, she grabbed my left wrist, firmly clutching the lower hem of her nightgown, with her hand, and lifted.

– – –

“When… when my father, Tom, died… my mother was devastated. She’d been so young when they fell in love, got pregnant with me, got married. By the time he died, they’d been together nearly half of her, still very young, life. And they were lovers, in every sense of the word. And mom… Susan… had a very high libido. You know that your mom couldn’t be very quiet when making love. She was…”

With a laugh, Brandon interrupted me. “Yeah, Dad… Al?… we know. I mean, we heard the two of you often enough growing up. It always made us… well, me at least… happy and content that you two seemed to be so into each other and in love when we were growing up. Hearing you two going at it what felt like every night.. some of my buddies, when they stayed over, thought it was awesome how loud and long the two of you would go. Ronny told me one time that his house got loud, too, but it was yelling and screaming at each other. He wished his parents were more like you and mom.”

“Al, eh? Now you want to call me Al instead of dad?” I softly said. Brandon had an embarrassed grin as he made a shrugging motion.

At that moment, the limo turned onto the street where Susan and I had raised these three. We were almost home, albeit a home without the single most important person in it.

“Well, you called mom ‘Susan’ instead of mom. Seems like it might be fair, but it does feel a little strange saying it.” Brandon replied.

“Yeah, I know the awkwardness, believe me. It was a bit of a shock to think of my mom as Susan, my lover, the first time.” I gently said.

– – –

Leaning back, straddling my right leg, mom went upright, and I lost my grip on her and the hem as she pulled it up and off her. Even as it came up, however, I was too focused and locked in on her eyes to see anything from underneath it until she flung it to the side of the bed.

There she was, in all her glory. The most loving, caring, beautiful woman in my life. My mother, Susan was nude, astraddle me, wet, aroused, and in lust.

As I glanced down, I saw for the first time since infancy her bare breasts, the large areolas the size of pancakes, her nipples seeming the size of those oversized children’s pencils, nearly a half inch wide, and slightly longer, now hardened to be tiny pebbles.

Leaning up, and pulling her down, I fastened my lips to them for the first time in 17 years, since my infancy, and began to lick, slobber, kiss, suck, nip, otherwise tease them, going back and forth between her C-cup breasts.

I could feel her reaching for my, once again, hardened penis, trapped and rubbing against her inner thigh after she’d moved to fully straddle me. While I continued to suckle, I felt the heat and moisture as she lifted slightly and fed me towards the waiting tunnel.

I stopped feasting at that moment and pulled back. “Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Yessssssssss”, she moaned, dropping onto me, feeling me, once again, back where I came from for the first time since my birth.

– – –

The awkwardness hit like a rolling fog as we rode down that familiar street, silence from inside allowing us to hear the faint sounds of the tires on the pavement, the yelling of children playing in yards as we passed, even the louder birds screeching.

I paused in my discussion with the kids, and they instinctively understood I needed time from my loss, from my memories, from their revelation. I would need to be in a mindset for well-wishers who might come by to mourn with us, or to comfort us. I would need time to regroup.

We pulled up at the house, and there were already four of Susan’s and I’s dearest friends there. The driver jumped out of the car and moved quickly to open the door once we had stopped. Brandon first, then David disembarked. Cassandra took my hand gently, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, before she took David’s outstretched hand and pulled herself out of the limo. I sat for an additional moment as Brandon took over greeting “Aunt” Darlene, “Uncle” Joseph, “Aunt” Kathy, and “Uncle” Roger, while David, still holding Cassandra’s hand, moved to unlock the door and let them in.

It wasn’t until everyone had entered the house that I finally roused from my torpor and exited, grabbing the hand of the driver, who had stood by so patiently, as he steadied me for my exit.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I know coming from a stranger that doesn’t mean much, but I also want to say that it appears you and your wife raised some good kids. You should be proud, and I’m sure they’ll be there to help you. The flower car will be coming by soon with some of the live flowers and plants, and anything else. Again, I’m so sorry for you loss.” Other than the comment about the kids, it felt like the same tired platitudes that people well rehearsed in handling grieving spouses, children, or parents get every day. But it did help me focus again.

Nodding my head, I walked into the house, turning left into the living room as I entered. Joseph and Roger sat on opposite ends of the long sofa, with Darlene and Kathy, both stylishly dressed in black, sat side by side softly talking with each other. Glancing up slightly, there was a small montage of photographs, mostly of myself and Susan, on the wall behind them.

There! Susan and I holding hands on the beach the summer after my graduation.

There, in the place of honor in the center! Susan and I kissing in front of a faux “Young” Elvis in the little chapel we had eloped in, her baby bump prominent.

There! The hospital picture I took of her holding the hours old Brandon in her arms.

There! Cassandra and David’s third birthday, showing me holding the two up so they could simultaneously blow out the candles.

There! The obligatory family picture in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Disney World, when the twins were 9, all of us wearing Mickey Mouse ears, while Brandon showed his Candied Apple to the camera.

There! Susan standing beside Brandon, he still in his Cap and Gown from his High School graduation, proudly beaming that our first born had marked this great achievement in his life.

Glancing from picture to picture, memory to memory, thought to thought, I sat down heavily in the chair opposite the sofa as our… mine, now… friends waited for me to join the conversation, to join the world again. I could hear movement upstairs, undoubtedly the kids getting changed into more casual and comfortable clothes, a minor mark of normalcy on an abnormal day.

– – –

I tried to thrust up to meet her downward drops, but she controlled the pace much more than I as we coupled that first time. From a slow, steady, pace, she began to buck harder and harder, and then she started becoming vocal.

“Oh god, Al, baby, can you feel me? Can you feel your hard cock plunge deep into the molten depths of my pussy? Pound that pussy! Oh god, flex like that again! So good. So good. Rub my clit, baby, make me cum, make me your whore, your woman. Fill me! Harder! Faster! Oh, god, baby, your cock feels so good in momma’s pussy!”

The moans, screams, clawing, heavy breathing… those filled the gaps.

I flipped her over onto her back, never pulling out. As I reached down to caress her love button, she grabbed my head and pulled my lips to her. I could feel the vibrations of her purr, deep in her throat, as I picked up the pace, just before I felt the hot liquid rush of her orgasm squirt onto my groin and lower stomach.

The frantic, nearly fanatical, woman beneath me, screaming into my mouth from her orgasm, set me off again as I erupted like Mount St. Helen’s into her molten core, my vision narrowing to nearly nothing as I began to black out from the sensations and the loss of blood from my brain to my already engorged cock.

The aftershocks, as spurt after spurt shot like bullets from a rifle, set her off again, and once again, I heard her screams, as she switched off my mouth to rest hers beside my ear, while at the same time drenching me.

I’d never have guessed my mother was a squirter, or multiorgasmic.

Collapsing beside her, beads of sweat poring off my forehead and chest, she propped up on one elbow, took a look at my now deflating penis, and began laughing.

“I guess it was just Morning Wood after all.” she joked.

For a moment, just a moment, I was hurt that she was laughing at my now flaccid penis, and then realized the humor, and began to laugh myself.

“And what a way to treat me for it! Best. Nurse. Ever!”, I added, much to her merriment.

– – –

The kids came down, changed while I stared awkwardly at my friends, my guests and fellow mourners.

Standing, Kathy came over to my chair and perched herself on my arm rest, her husband watching with sympathy. Softly, she touched my cheek, then placed her lips on my forehead to give me one brief moment of tenderness. Joseph looked on and smiled.

“Al… there’s no way we”, and he glanced at his wife, and Darlene and Roger, “can fully understand the depths of your loss. While we always wondered and worried about your age difference, we all knew how devoted you were as a husband to Susan, and she as a wife to you. We all want you to know how much we love you and that we are here for you.”

Roger took over from Joseph then. “We want you to know that regardless, we are here for you. Susan asked us to make sure that you were aware of it, that you know that even without her, we’re still ‘the gang of six’ that we’ve always been… we just have an empty seat at the table.”

Kathy, beside me, moved slightly so I could see her face and it’s sincerity more easily. “Al, you are one of us. You and Susan were like our mother hen and father hen.”

“Cock of the roost!” laughed Joseph, earning him an elbow to his stomach from Darlene.

“As my idiot husband says, you were the ‘dad’ as it were of our group, keeping us on the straight and narrow, keeping us focused on our friendship. We’ve lost our ‘mom’… don’t let us lose you, too.” Darlene finished.

I stared at them, and Darlene smiled a wan, soft smile at me. Roger furrowed his brow, in a bit of a grimace, a man-to-man acknowledgment that he understood I was highly emotional and barely holding it together. I felt Kathy move again beside me, leaning over to gently hug me from her position, her soft, warm body reminding me so much of my Susan.

“Dad, we are all here for you. We know you’re hurting. We all are. But you’re not alone in this.” Cassandra said, coming over to me to sit on her father’s lap and throw her arms around me. “We, all of us, need you here with us. You can’t….” and she began crying, “… you can’t just… follow mom. Brandon, David, and I… we all need you. And mom would want you there for us, just like she was there for you all those years ago when you lost your dad.”

“I didn’t know you knew Susan when you were that young. She was, what, 7 years older than you?”

“Uh…. something like that, Uncle Roger” David cut in.

“But you told us you were a young teenager. Thirteen?”, Roger continued.

“I don’t think he wants to talk about that, Uncle Roger. He just lost one of the few people who helped him get over that.” Brandon intercepted.

“Uh, yeah, Roger, when my dad died, Susan and my grandparents became my best friends and I became hers. I had known her my whole life. But nothing romantic until I was much older.” I explained.

– – –

Her smile still shone through the semi-darkness of the room. .She seemed happy, and of course, I was, even if a bit confused. I mean, what teenage boy wouldn’t be ecstatic to have knocked off a piece of a gorgeous MILF? Even when it was his own mother?

“Mom? Um… what did this mean for us? What…”, I started.

She put a finger to my lips in the hush motion. “Stop. I don’t know what this means. It meant something, though. I love you, my darling Albert. I’ve loved you, and the thought of you, since I found out I was pregnant. And now… beyond that love, there’s something else. I don’t know what it is yet. God, you remind me of your father.”

“I’m not dad, mom.” I simply stated.

“Don’t call me mom when we’re like this. Call me Susan.” she smiled.

“Ok, mom, uh, Susan. But does that mean there will be more…”, and I shrugged, “in the future?”

“Oh, I hope so.”

– – –

“Falling in love with your best friend?”, Roger started. “It’s pretty wonderful, isn’t it?” As he smiled to Kathy sitting beside me. I could see her face light up as she smiled back at him. Beside Roger, Darlene grabbed Joseph’s hand and squeezed, and he smiled back at her. In my peripheral vision, I could see David and Cassandra glance at each other, too.

“It was.. incredible. No regrets on my part, living my life with Susan. She was all I ever wanted her to be, all I ever dreamed of in a wife and mother, a lover and partner.” I said. Brandon glanced at me at my brief confession. He was the only one who thought through the implications of that statement. Even I didn’t see it until after it had been said.

“She certainly was all of those.” Kathy quipped. “Just look at you, and your children. And she loved you something fierce.”

– – –

“Eat momma’s pussy! Ah, yes… just like that. Oh, god, yes, flick that tongue on my clittttttttttt…..” she screamed as she orgasmed while on my face. The hot honey liquid squirted into my mouth and all over my face, as I gulped down her sweet nectar.

I continued to lightly lick as she gushed, then moved into the trembling stage of her post orgasmic come down. I wanted to continue, and give her another one back-to-back, but she pushed me away after a moment or two. “Oh, baby, stop, Al, stop… I’m too sensitive right now. Baby, you have to stop.”

Having my head pushed away, I finally broke contact with the sensitive nub, and moved my gaze from her soft blond mound to her eyes. “Was that good….. Susan?”

“Oh, god, baby, that was so good.” she replied, in a husky, dreamy voice.

“Can we keep doing this…. Susan? In the future, I mean. I love you.” I softly asked.

“Oh, baby, if you keep doing that well, you’re going to be a permanent fixture in my bed. Yes, we can and will do more of this. A lot more.” she smiled down at me. “And Al, my sweet, sweet baby boy… I love you, too.”

– – –

“Tell us some good memories, Al. Bring her back, just a bit, by remembering her. I’d love to hear how you fell in love. I know your wedding date, and Brandon’s… um Birthday. Doesn’t take a genius. But you guys look like you were in crazy about each other before your trip to Vegas.” Kathy asked, glancing at the wedding photo on the wall behind her husband.

“So, dad… you and mom were shacking up, right? That’s what she told me years ago, that you two were living together for a while before you got married.” David helpfully added, being careful with his wording, as Susan had undoubtedly been when she had told him that fact.

“Yeah, we had been a couple living together for a while. After my grandparents died, I kinda lived with Susan. My mother had been devastated with the loss of my father, and then her parents… it was hard on her. I clung to Susan, and we lived together, just us, after that. At first, she took care of me. It wasn’t until… well, I don’t want to discuss the full event, but I got hurt, physically, and Susan… did you know Susan had been a nurse? Anyway, Susan took over like a mother hen, nursing me through it, but one thing led to another and… after that, we were a couple, living together, not just roommates and friends. That first year was magical.”

– – –

Waking up next to Susan, in our bed, her nude form snuggled tightly to mine, her hand casually cupping my rapidly hardening cock, while finding mine cupping her tender, soft breast… it was an incredible feeling. Seeing that movement of her eyes, as she slowly roused as well, seeing that smile, and the love…

How could I not kiss her?

Slowly, I moved over her and stared into her rapidly awakening eyes, as her hand moved to more firmly grip me.

“My, my… what do we have here? And whatever shall I do with it?” she teased, smiling her sly grin at me.

“I can think of some things…”, I replied, with my own grin coming, before leaning down and kissing her.

As our tongues entwined, we both caught it at the same time, rapidly separating.

“Oh, god, baby… you have morning pussy breath. While I love my scent on you when it’s fresh, you have to do something.” she pleaded.

“Ah, yeah, mom… you’ve got sperm breath, too. Shall we retreat to the bathroom and brush our teeth, then resume our regularly scheduled lovemaking?” I asked.

“We shall!”, Susan said, jumping out of the bed. “And how many times do I need to tell you to call me Susan when we’re in bed?”

I leaped up and ran to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush. “Sorry…. mom!” I teased, receiving a swat on my rear as my nude mother walked in behind me.

“You know, you’re not too old for me to spank you!” she warned.

“Nor I, you!” I replied, with a huge grin.

“Now there’s an interesting vision… you spanking your dear old mom!” she smirked, grabbing the toothpaste.

“Not so old… Susan.”

– – –

“We never even thought much about birth control. I mean, after the initial few days, we half halfheartedly used the Rhythm method… but do you know what they call couples who use the Rhythm method?”, I continued.

“Parents!”, Roger joked.

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, Brandon, but you were a bit.. just a bit of an accident.” I told my son.

“Oh, thanks, Uncle Roger. That’s one piece of information I didn’t need to know.”, Brandon groused.

– – –

“Hey, Susan… I’m home!” I shouted, dropping my book bag on the kitchen table.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Al.” I heard from the bedroom area.

I grabbed a glass and poured myself some OJ while I waited. It was unlike her to not have food started. While my college classes ended at different times on different days, it was always the same schedule as I completed my second semester.

As I checked to see what we could make for dinner, I heard her clear her throat behind me. Atypical, I thought, as normally she’d have greeted me with a kiss while standing by the stove, making dinner.

I turned and she stood there. Her hair in a pony tail, she was wearing a light green, mid length, sun dress, spaghetti straps keeping it up. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra by the way her breasts stood, and the way her nipples hardened as she observed where my gaze was. Her nude legs came out from beneath the dress, which my gaze followed all the way down to her bare feet, standing on the cold linoleum floor as she walked over to the stove without a kiss or any other word to me.

Reaching the stove, to my appreciative eyes, she bent to the drawer holding them, and removed a pot and a frying pan, placing them on the stove, with a rather louder than necessary clang. Reaching over, she grabbed her seldom used apron, and put it over her head, tying it behind her, before she turned around.

Her frown and pensive expression made my stomach turn.

“Susan… mom… what’s wrong?” I asked.

“Don’t you dare call me Susan, Al.” she replied. “It’s your fault. Here, here I am, are you happy?”

“Ha… what are you talking about… Susan?” I faltered.

“Barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen cooking for my man. Is that what you wanted?” she demanded.

“Huh? Barefoot and…. WHAT! Pregnant? We’re having a baby?” I shouted.

And with that, the frown changed to a megawatt smile as she leaped into my arms.

– – –

“Yeah… so there we were, I was in college, finishing my first year. I came home and went into the kitchen. She came out all mad and such, barefoot, throwing pots and pans around the stove… and told me I had gotten her ‘barefoot and pregnant’. I don’t think the initial shock wore off for hours.” I told them.

“Wow, dad… that’s cute. And it seems so like mom’s sense of humor. She got you good.” Cassandra opined.

Roger muttered something to Darlene with that, and Darlene elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Ow, damn it. It was just a joke.” Roger apologized.

“You know what my idiot husband said? He said ‘Not as good as Al got her!’ What a pig!” Darlene explained.

“Oh, wow, Uncle Roger, both gross and TMI. Not appropriate!” David admonished.

“Well, Rog… I agree with you. Not that it’s any concern of yours.” I offered, sportingly, to Roger.

“Oh god, dad, TMI! TMI!” Brandon groused.

“And what happened after that?” Joseph picked up the thread, moving the conversation along. I could feel the oppressive atmosphere start to lift as I remembered, and as I saw my children and friends smile a little.

“Well, of course, I had to do the right thing. And we needed to move. We decided to do it all at once.”

– – –

As the moving van trundled off with the last of our belongings, it felt odd to see the house empty. It had been Susan’s home for all but a few years of her life, her time with dad. It had been my home the same, filled of memories of dad, grandma, and grandpa. And of course, more recent memories of Susan and I.

“Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to back out.” she asked me.

“I’m sure. Vegas, here we come! And then to our new home, and new lives. Just you and I…” I replied back.

“And baby makes three, Al. I love you, and you’ll always be so special to me, no matter how many babies I have.” and she kissed me softly on the cheek. I threw my arm around her, pulling her close in a hug.

“And baby makes three.” I agreed.

– – –

“Why did you have to move? I mean, you moved nearly across the country.” Kathy asked.

“Too many memories, too many issues. It just wouldn’t have been a good place for Susan and I to raise our children. We needed a break from our past, a new start in life.”

“Why here?” Kathy continued.

“School, mostly, plus it seemed like a good place to raise kids. Non judgmental, relaxed, snow, when we want it, sun, when we want it, mountains, beaches. It was just a place that sounded like a good spot to raise our family.”

“It must have been especially hard for you two to leave.” Brandon observed.

“Harder than you can imagine, Brandon. But your mom and I had you to think about. And of course Cassandra and David, later, but that wasn’t where our heads were at first.”

– – –

“Why do you want this Elvis guy to do it? Why can’t it be more normal?” I groused.

“Because as a kid, I loved the song ‘Love me Tender’. And it’s so you. You’re so tender.” She said, mussing my hair.

“Uh, huh, uh, little lady, are you saying this man is ‘a Hunka Hunka Burning Love’?” the Elvis impersonator asked as we tried to make up our minds.

Putting her hands over her abdomen, lightly holding the proof of our love growing inside her, Susan turned to face him. “He certainly is a hunk.”

Knowing my fate was to be married in this chapel, by this man, to this woman… I gave in. I smiled at my soon to be bride, and started singing. “Gooooinnnng to the chapellllll and I’m…. gonnnnna get mair-air-air-eeeed. Gooooooinnnggggg to the chapelllll and I’m…. gonnnnnnna get mair-air-air-eeeeed. Geeeeeee, I really love you and I’m….. gonnnnnnnna get mair-ait-ait-eeed…… Going….. to the chapellllll…. of loveeeeeee.”

“Wrong artist, son, but right spirit.” Elvis brightened. “Let’s do this!” he said, shaking his hips.

– – –

Standing up, I walked over to the wall and pulled off the souvenir photo we’d had taken of the newly married couple.

“That was one of the four greatest days in my life.” I observed. “That’s the day I joined hands forever with the love of my life. And when we got back to the hotel room…”

“Dad, what happened in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Otherwise, stop, you’re going TMI again.” Cassandra stopped me.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I was just going to point out the moment we laid down on the bed; it wasn’t like that.” I continued.

– – –

We were still dressed in our wedding clothes, still holding hands as we fell onto the bed, tired.

I held Susan’s hand up in wonder to stare at the golden band once more on her finger, looking at it and then holding my own hand up beside it.

The matching bands glistened in the light as the fireworks outside lit the room.

“We did it. We really did it.” I stated, in awe.

“Yes, we did.” Susan replied, grabbing my other hand and slinging it across the slight bulge of her belly. “We did this, too. I love you, Al. I can’t believe how you make me feel.”

“I love you, too, Susan. You’ve been the greatest mom in the world. And I know from how you and dad were you’ll be the greatest wife to me, and resume your title of world’s greatest mom to our kids.”

“Oh, baby, I can’t be the greatest mom. Here, I’ve basically trapped you into marrying me, and having kids with me. I have to be an awful mother.”

“Kids? Is there more than one in there?” I asked.

“No, baby, just the one… for now. But I’ve had a small family. I want a bigger one this time. You don’t mind too much, do you, baby? I mean, we can afford a big family.”

I reached over, taking her newly shod ring finger to my lips. “We can have as many kids as you want. We have a lifetime together.”

– – –

“Staring at your rings, huh? Kathy and I did that… but only before the ceremony. We were….” Joseph started.

“Don’t finish that statement if you don’t want to sleep on the sofa tonight.” Kathy warned. “They don’t need to know what we were doing on our wedding night.”

“Thanks, Aunt Kathy.” Cassandra followed up.

“Hey, I for one am all ears as to what you did on your honeymoon… ow!” Roger riposted, before again being jabbed in the ribs by Darlene.

“You two were so happy when we met you. That was what, a year after you two got married?” Darlene moved the conversation along.

“Yeah, that’s when we met you and Roger. I was still in school, partway through my Junior year, when we met.”

“I remember. Susan seemed so mature, I was shocked to find out she was married to a college student. I had assumed when we met that her husband was some doctor or lawyer, or such.”

“Hey, she was hot, even if she was a little older than you. I can see it… what? Why is everyone looking at me like that?” Roger injected.

“She was hot. To the point it was sometimes distracting, and hard to concentrate on my studies. Didn’t help that someone” and I pointed at Brandon, “had colic. Between your screaming all night, the feedings, Susan’s hormonal mood swings post partum… it’s a wonder I didn’t flunk out. It was my lowest grades in college, but I guess I did all right in the end.”

“Do you remember your dad’s college graduation, Brandon?” Darlene asked.

“No, not really. My earliest memory, as far as I know, is dad coming home to mom one night. Mom had been acting strange all day, and dressed different that normal.”

“Is that why it stands out?” Kathy asked.

“Naw, Aunt Kathy. It stands out because of how Dad acted that night.”

– – –

“Oh, Lucy… I’m hoooooome.” I shouted in my best Ricky Ricardo impersonation. Not getting any answer, I walked into the kitchen to see Brandon sitting in his high chair.

“Hey, kiddo, where’s mommy?” I asked, before hearing a clearing of her throat.

I turned around, and there she was, and a sense of Deja Vu came over me. Same pony tail, same lack of pots and pans on the stove, same green sun dress, same barefoot bride standing before me.

“Uh….” I began, before Susan cut me off.

“To paraphrase ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, ‘Al lassos stork’.” She said, before leaping into my arms.

“She’s right there, daddy.” Brandon observed. “And I’m hungry. Can we have chicken nuggets and Mac-N-Cheese?”

I twirled my bride around the room, ignoring our son, but picking her up while she flung her legs back and her arms around my neck.

“Barefoot and pregnant, carrying my lover’s baby.” Susan whispered in my ear.

“Who is he, I’ll kill ’em.” I intoned, in mock seriousness.

With a girlish giggle, she kissed my ear before whispering one word. “You.”

– – –

“That’s when you met us, then.” Kathy observed.

“Not quite. It was another three months before we realized we were having twins.” I said, nodding to Cassandra and David. “We didn’t meet you until we left our first support meeting for prospective parents of twins. It was a very different experience having twins over just Brandon.”

“See, I always knew we were more special than you!” David opined to Brandon, sticking out his tongue.

“I never said that. I said it was very different. Don’t be stirring up trouble, young man.” I threatened.

“What, is that why you two were on that side of town that day? You were coming from a support meeting?” Joseph asked.

“Uh, yeah, and again, I’m sorry for it. I thought I had the green.”

“Water under the bridge long ago, my friend. After all, we would never have met if not for that, and how hard it was getting the insurance to pay.” Joseph demurred. “And being part of yours and Susan’s lives… that made the inconvenience worth it. And we not only ended up with you two, we got this lovely lady”, he said, patting Darlene’s hand, “and this moron as friends in the bargain, too. Well worth it.”

“It’s funny how little things like that can change the course of a life. If I hadn’t … gotten hurt, I would probably never ended up with Susan. We wouldn’t be here, those three wouldn’t exist…. little things.”

“Here’s to Susan!” Kathy intoned.

“And here’s to little things!” Darlene added, patting Roger’s crotch.

“Oh, gross, Aunt Darlene!” David observed.

We all broke out laughing. Susan was with us once more.

– – –

Epilogue

Cassandra sat, quietly sobbing in the chair as she watched the all too familiar scene, at that all too familiar place. Beside her, to her right, David sat with his hand tightly entwined with hers, squeezing every once in a while to reassure her. To her left, their son sat patiently waiting, holding his baby brother for his mother.

Brandon stood in front of the gathered crowd, smiling softly at his wife, holding the hands of his youngest son as they stood there, while their older children stood around.

“I want to thank all of you for coming today. Our family really appreciates the love and support that you’ve given us. We lost our mother 16 years ago, and not a day goes by that we don’t miss her. Today, we’re letting go of our dad. Both of them died way too young, but at least we have the comfort of knowing that they’re together again, where they were always meant to be. We’ll be receiving visitors back at dad’s house for folks who want to come by.”

Cassandra felt a hand on her shoulder, turning, she looked into the Kathy’s face for the first time in years.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for your loss. How are you holding up?” Kathy asked.

“It’s hard, Aunt Kathy. But we get through it, day by day.”

“Where’s your husband? All these years, I’ve never met him. And oh, gosh, your kids…. they look just like your father.”

“He…. couldn’t be here right now. David is kind of taking over for him.” Cassandra replied.

“Oh? And where’s your wife, David? I haven’t met her or your kids, either.” Kathy queried.

“She’s taking care of the kids, Aunt Kathy. She lost her father recently, too, and so…” David tailed off.

“Oh, I understand. It would have been too painful for her to be here after she lost her dad, I guess. And the kids… how much grief do they need, right?” Kathy comforted.

“Yeah. And this way, I can help Cassandra with the kids, too.” David offered.

As he said that, he looked over at his older brother.

Brandon stood, staring at the head stone on his parents grave. Beloved Mother and Wife. Beloved Husband and Father. A fitting end for the two.

– – –

Over the years, a number of stories have been written with the basic background of this story. Boy grows up, boy falls in love with mom, mom falls in love with boy, boy and mom run off together and become a committed couple raising their family. All of them basically end in the same place, with the couple riding off in the sunset, to live happily ever after.

But the age difference between them almost guarantees a long absence, late in life, as the older passes on. This one, of course, had the mother passing on from cancer still (relatively) young, and in fact, follows that up by the son dying (of indeterminate cause) at about the same age. But that’s just one possible ending to these kinds of May-December romances.

I wanted to explore the other. In many ways, this could have fit in a “Romance” or “Loving Wives”, even potentially in the “Mature” category, except for the rampant incest between mother and son, and later, between Brother and Sister. That pretty much forces it here.

I don’t know if you’ll like it… I’ll find that out long after these scribbles are posted. But I hope it does make you go “Hmmmmm” as you think of the hidden costs of May-December romances and relationships.

Oh, and Susan calling Albert “Tommy” on her death bed was NOT a mistake on the author’s part. Nor was the A-B-C-D children a coincidence, other than Albert’s name.

Thanks for reading!