Warrior's Farewell

Warrior’s FarewellThe Yuletide Masquerade dance had been more fun than I expected, even for my son Tom who’d drawn the short straw as designated driver, on a promise of a bottle of Laphroaig single malt whisky, his favorite, as a consolation. Or could it be that we’d tricked – um, ‘persuaded’ – him, because he had the loan of a seven-seat Land Rover station wagon? Whatever, my brother Bob, his wife Joan and daughter Louise, my sister Jean and her daughter Claire, and me and Tom, we’d all fitted in. I was glad it was the Land Rover Tom was driving, because the snow was getting thicker, the plows were somewhere else, and when we came out of the Lodge where the dance was held, it was close to midnight.

We managed to get through to Bob and Joan’s place without any problems, and dropped him, Joan and Louise. They would probably be tucked up in bed before Tom and I got home, lucky dogs. Tom planned to drop me next, so that I could turn the heating up for us, and our place would be toasty-warm by the time he got back after dropping Jean and Claire. I was glad about that, as I needed time to think. To think about Tom, and the erection I’d felt pressing against me as we danced a last slow dance together. I guess I had to blame myself a little, as I’d pulled him close to me as we danced, my arms around his waist, his around my shoulders, my face against his chest, smelling his male musk, hearing his whispered ‘I love you, Mom’.

The flashing red-and-blue lights were the first indication that plans might need to be changed, as the police cars were located just where the turn-off for home was. They formed a road block and Tom pulled to a halt. One of the officers came over as Tom lowered the driver-side window.

“What’s the problem, officer?” he asked.

The patrolman grimaced. “Road’s blocked, I’m afraid. Truck skidded on the snow at Tyler Bridge. We can’t get a tow truck out before morning.”

“No way we can get through?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, not even with four-wheel drive. You live along there?”

“Yeah. About a mile past the bridge.”

“You’d have a forty mile detour to get home, and word is the snow’s even worse on that side of the river. Guess you’re going to have to sleep somewhere else tonight. Sorry.” He shrugged, and turned away to another vehicle which had pulled in behind us. Tom pulled away and headed towards the apartment block where Jean and Claire lived.

“Guess it’s your place next stop, Aunt Jean,” said Tom.

“Guess so, hon. I reckon you two will just have to stay with us tonight,” said Jean.

“But you only have the two bedrooms,” I said.

“No problem. My bed’s a king-size, Claire’s is a double. I guess we both like room to wriggle. We can double up. Heck, it’s only one night. Probably.”

“Are you sure?” Doubling up meant sharing, so who would want to share a bed with me. My pussy pulsed, startling me, but I knew the answer. Tom. Did I dare?

“Of course, sis,” said Jean.

“Tom?” I said, “Are you okay sharing with me?” Hey! I even sounded normal to myself. If he hesitated I didn’t notice.

“Sure thing, Mom, if it’s okay with you?”

“Of course it is.” I turned to my sister in the seat behind me, but she forestalled me.

“Yes, Sarah, I can loan you a nightdress, and I think there may be a pair of Tony’s pyjamas for you, Tom.”

“Great! Aunt Jean, we’re almost there. Where do I park?”

“Go around back, where the garages are. There’s a space beside them you can use,” she said.

I was glad the Land Rover is a big, solid, four-wheel-drive vehicle because the sideways slip when we turned scared me for a moment. Nothing untoward happened, though, and five minutes later we were shedding outdoor clothes in Jean and Claire’s apartment. Nice and warm, as she’d sensibly left the heating on manual instead of timed.

“Anyone want a coffee or anything?” said Jean as the four of us relaxed in the living room. “Although, thinking about it, you might want something a little harder, Tom?”

He grinned. “Scotch on the rocks would be great, Aunt Jean. Just a small one, though.”

“Small Scotch coming up. Anything for you, Sarah?”

“Same for me, please,” I said. I might need a little Dutch courage!

We sat for a little while with our drinks, just chatting. I was a little unfocussed, as I was thinking about Tom, and didn’t realize at first that Jean was speaking. I gestured apology.

“Sorry, sis, miles away. Yes? You were saying?”

She grinned. “I was saying that maybe all three of us women will fit in my bed, and give Tom a chance to get some rest.”

My first, shocking, reaction was disappointment. God! Did I really want to sleep – and I knew it wouldn’t just be sleep, but have sex – with my son? I forced that thought deep and managed a smile.

“It’s okay, it’s only one night. I guess Tom and I, we’ll manage, won’t we, son? Anyhow, only two in a bed gives the other one a bit more wiggling room.”

“Sure thing, Mom. Like you say, it’s only one night.” He laughed. “And it’s well after midnight now, so maybe we should be thinking of getting to bed. We still have to get home in the morning.”

“If you’re sure,” said Jean, “I’ll get you those night things. You’re okay for a bathroom, because Claire has a shower and toilet of her own. You two use that, and Claire and I will use the main bathroom.” She stood. “Back in a moment.”

Five minutes later, goodnight hugs and kisses given and received, nightdress and pyjamas – and spare toothbrushes! – duly delivered, I ushered Tom into Claire’s bedroom.

“You get washed and ready, son. I’ll just be a moment. Your Aunt Jean wants a word with me.

“Sure thing, Mom.”

Jean was waiting in the living-room, alone. Claire must have been in the bedroom. Jean had her big-sister face on, but she smiled, and her touch on my arm was gentle.

“Relax, sweetie.” Her gaze held mine. “I have to ask, are you gonna fuck him?”

My first reaction was denial, then panic, but it was acceptance that finally predominated. I shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. Hell, Jean, he’s my son! It would be incest!”

“It would be love, Sarah, and we both know it. He wants you. Anyone seeing the two of you when you don’t think anyone is watching can tell that. His eyes never leave you, and he had an erection when the two of you came off the dance floor after that last slow number.”

I laughed. Short, a little wry. “I know. It was pressing against me when we danced.”

“Feel good?”

“Yes, damn it!”

“Well, then. Are you going to give him some loving? He leaves for Iraq in three days time.”

I nodded miserably. “I know.”

Jean took my hand, squeezing gently. “Tell you something, sis. In confidence. Family secret, okay?”

I nodded. “Family secret.”

Jean smiled, still holding my hand. “You know when Tony shipped out to the Gulf, two years ago?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, the night before he left, Claire and I took him to bed and fucked him limp.”

I stared at this stranger, my sister. “Both of you? At the same time?”

Jean nodded. “Both of us. At the same time. Well, sort of. Claire and me, we had to take turns to have him in us, obviously, but all three of us were in bed together, sharing the love. It was fun.” She grinned, then sobered. “But, Sarah, sweetheart, it was a soldier’s women giving him a soldier’s farewell. Tony’s not married, and he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, which only left me and Claire to do it.” She paused. “Tom deserves the same, and if you’re not willing, I am. Probably Claire as well, although I haven’t asked her. At least, not yet, I haven’t.”

I laughed. “You’re willing, are you?”

Jean nodded, then smiled. “I am, but I’ll accept seconds, if you’re okay with it.”

I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. “I’ll tell him. After I’ve fucked him.”

She grinned. “You do that. Now go, go and give my nephew a soldier’s farewell.” She laughed. “Even if he is in the Air Force!”

I smiled, and nodded. “Excuse me, I have a warrior to attend to.”

Jean touched my arm. “Sarah, if Tom wants me as well, or Claire, all he has to do is come into our bedroom, preferably naked, and we’re his. Okay?”

I grinned at my sister. “Can I come as well, and watch?”

Jean laughed, nodding. “Yes! Of course. Or join in. I’m sure the three of us can give him something to remember.”

“Oh, wow, yes! But me first!”

“Go, sweetie.”

In Claire’s bedroom, Tom was still dressed, waiting for me. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, studying my son.

“I think we need to talk, don’t we, son?”

He flushed, but held my eye, nodding. “Yeah, Mom, I guess we do.”

“Don’t worry, son, I’m not going to bite you.” Not just yet, anyway. “A question first. Um, would it be an accurate assumption on my part, based at least partly on the erection you were pressing against me earlier, to think that you want me, want to make love to me, your mother? Or to put it more bluntly I’ll ask you straight out. Did you – do you – want to fuck me?”

His flush deepened but his gaze didn’t falter. “Yes, Mom, it’s true. I want you.” He gestured helplessly. “I know it’s wrong, it’s incest, and you’re probably disgusted with me, but you’re the woman I love more than anyone else in the world! And I want you as I’ve never wanted a woman before.” He gave me a twisted smile. “I think my erection was testament to that.” He gestured helplessly. “But you’ll probably hate me, so now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and find somewhere to spend the night.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no? Why not? It will be better for both of – ” I put my fingers over his mouth, shaking my head.

“Tom, son, let me tell you something. What I am not is disgusted. Absolutely not. Nor do I hate you. I couldn’t, you’re my son and I love you, with all your faults. Tom, honey, what I am is wet. Wet between my legs, wet with desire, desire for you, son. I want – I need – to give you a warrior’s farewell, and what better way than in bed together. Now, come here, come here and kiss me. Then undress me, take me to bed, and give me some loving.” I laughed, probably with a mild touch of hysteria. “Or fuck me senseless. Your choice.”

He stared at me for a long, long moment. In shock, I think. But then a look of incredible joy, of love, came over his face and he moved towards me as I forced my trembling legs to move me towards him, and we fell into each other’s arms. The kiss was a lover’s kiss, the kind of kiss I’d been used to getting from Tom’s father before he was killed, the kind of kiss I’d never expected to share again, the kind of kiss that tells a woman that very shortly she is going to feel her lover’s penis pierce her where her juices flow to welcome him, the kind of kiss that says ‘I want you, I need you, and I want it now!’