For several minutes, we just laid there. Finally, I spoke up. “I’m not sure what to say right now.” Looking over at mother, I could see her deep in thought as she stared at the ceiling. “But I guess we were acting out our parts.”
“But if he didn’t give you Viagra,” mother began, “then how did you, well, you know, get an erection? Were you sexually attracted to me?”
I paused for a few seconds before I responded. “Well… of course, mother. You are one of the most beautiful women in the world. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Mother continued. “Then, you wanted to have sex with me?”
I cautiously eased out onto the ledge. “Yes, although I’m sorry that you were forced, I am not sorry that it happened.” And then, I pushed out even further. “Yes, I enjoyed it. And in a way, I’m glad it happened.”
I paused again and asked the question: “did you actually cum or were you acting?”
Mother thought for a moment and then said, “at first, I was just acting out the part. But… once you started” mother paused for a moment, “dammit, let’s talk like adults. I loved it when you were going down on me. I could not help myself. Maybe it was the forbidden nature of what we were doing. I’m not sure. All I know is that from that point on, there was no acting after that. And yes, I’m glad you were in me.”
We continued to lay there for a few more minutes before mother rolled over to look at me. “They are gone now. No one will be forcing us anymore tonight,” she said with a slight hint of plea in her voice. With her hand, she placed it on my stomach just above my cock. Her mere touch was enough to reignite my libido as I felt my cock harden. I rolled over and kissed mother on lips as we had done before. I placed my hand to her breast just as her hand grabbed my cock.
In a repeat of the previous session, mother stroked my cock until it was hard. She rolled over on top of me, spread her legs, and guided my cock into her pussy. She rode my cock up and down, before we switched positions. Over and over, we coupled in mother’s bedroom for several hours before collapsing in a deep sleep. From that moment on, mother and I began a journey of sexual exploration. There was rarely a night that we spent apart.
The next day we picked up mother’s car at a local restaurant parking lot in Beverly Hills. True to our instructions, we went out for dinner that night, returned to her house around midnight, and called the police. We reported that we had returned home to find the vault open, and the jewelry gone. The usual investigation went nowhere except to create fodder for the tabloid magazines. She later gave an interview in a popular magazine in which she said her only regret was losing an antique wedding ring of her mother’s. A prized possession, it helped remind her of her mother whom she lost when she was just a teenager.
After wrapping up the investigation, the insurance company wrote a generous check to mother, and she repurchased replacement jewelry. Although she missed her original jewels and especially her mother’s wedding ring, she was satisfied with the result.
After the break in, mother and I became constant companions, explaining that the burglary had frightened her and that she wanted me close in case someone broke into the house again. Publicly, we were very careful not to show any affection beyond that of a mother and her son. Instead, we opted for our private times behind closed doors. Security was increased, but we never allowed any security personnel into the house. Our home would be our personal sanctuary, free from prying eyes or condemnation.
After finishing a film and business degree at UCLA, mother assisted me in becoming a producer in Hollywood, in which we co-produced a film entitled “Night Birds”, a film about a mother-son burglary team that was an action/comedy that became a huge hit. After the production wrapped, we decided to flee from Hollywood for some time and looked for a place where we could be alone. Our explanation was that we wanted some away time to work on the next project, but the truth was that we wanted to be able to be alone together as a couple.
We found such a place in a small town in Italy, just below the Italian Alps. It was a beautiful location that offered privacy and seclusion. The locals largely ignored mother’s notoriety, and the small cafes and family restaurants allowed us to be together without the usual paparazzi that hounded her.
One Saturday afternoon, we were sitting at an outdoor table sharing a couple of glasses of wine. The streets were filled with the locals as they went about enjoying the weekend. We were deep in conversation when I noticed a middle-aged blonde woman and a man in his twenties approaching us. She was shapely, pretty, and wearing a stylish, flowing sundress that billowed in the soft breeze. I could not help but notice that her ample breasts seemingly spilled over the top of her dress. Her companion was likewise dressed in a sport coat, slacks, and an open shirt. His light brown hair and handsome features gave him a European look. Mother noticed the couple just before they reached our table.
“I’m so sorry to intrude” she said with an American accent, “but I was just telling my son here that I thought that was you. You are one of our favorite actresses.” Her son eagerly nodded and smiled. Mother thanked them.
Reaching in her oversized Hermes Bag, she pulled out a recent issue of People Magazine with mother on the cover. The issue was one featuring an interview with mother regarding her latest Oscar nod for “Night Birds.” It was box office smash and had been nominated for two Oscars for both best movie and for her role as best actress.
“Would it be too much trouble to sign the cover?” the woman implored. Mother politely and readily agreed. “Please just make it out to your two biggest fans,” she woman asked.
With a sharpie provided by the woman, mother wrote, “To my biggest fans” and then signed her name with her usual flowing signature. Mother handed the magazine back to the woman.
“Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means so much to us,” the woman said excitedly. She then laid the magazine down on the table as she made room to place it back inside her bag, all the while saying how much she loved the movie. “In fact, one of our all-time favorite films is one of yours. We watch it all the time.” I could tell mother was about to ask which one, when the woman quickly interjected.
“I’m so sorry, we have taken too much of your time. We should get going and leave you to your privacy. Thank you again and have a good day!” Picking up the magazine and placing it in her bag, she turned to her son, interlaced her arm into his, and strolled nonchalantly away. Within a few seconds they had disappeared into the crowd.
We both watched them disappear before returning to our previous conversation. Mother was reaching for her wine glass when I noticed her expression of surprise. “What is it?” I asked.
Mother whispered, “look on the table.”
Looking down, I could see an antique wedding ring that resembled the one mother had lost in the burglary. Mother reached down and picked it up to closely examine it. “That is your grandmother’s ring!” Mother said quietly but excitedly.
We once again looked up to examine the crowd. The strangers were nowhere to be seen.
For the next couple of hours, we quietly reexamined the events of that fateful night. Although publicly we had stuck with the story of an unknown burglar, we had often privately talked about what we remembered about the black clad intruders.
The heights and body types of the two strangers were similar, but we had no other characteristic to compare. Then, mother pointed out one possible clue.
“Remember that night? Only the male intruder spoke. Did her son say anything just then?” I thought for a second and with a slight smile I said “no, he certainly didn’t,” as I shook my head from side to side.
I said, “I think we have seen them for the last time, but in a way, we should thank them.” I reached for mother’s hand while looking into her eyes.
Mother smiled back. “Yes, we should.” She paused and tilted her head slightly and then with a look of astonishment said “Considering what they forced us to do, is it possible that they…?” Mother paused again and then her eyes widened. “And if they do, was she talking about our video?”
I looked to one side as I thought about mother’s question. “I don’t know, but I wish,” I interjected, “that we had a copy. I would love to see us that first night again.”
Mother nodded and smiled. We finished our wine before we left for the villa that we shared together.
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