Through a Glass Dimly Book 2Chapter 4
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I could tell there was something seriously wrong when I got home from swimming practice, even before she tearfully handed me the telegram. My mother was still in her robe, having skipped work and probably crying all day. We sat on the couch as I read the military telegram stating that my father had been killed in a training accident overseas. It had been a routine training exercise and none could have predicted or prevented the unfortunate accident. He was lost at sea.
When I put the letter down I immediately reached out for my mother and held her close. We cried into each other's shoulders and rocked each other for comfort. After a time, I got up and fixed us a drink, whiskey on the rocks, just as I know my dad would have done following bad news. We talked quietly about the whole thing and had some more drinks. It was well into the night when we each decided to get to bed.
I never even changed out of my trunks and t-shirt. I just sat on the edge of my bed in shock. Thoughts swirled in my drunken head, thoughts of self-pity, regret, and sorrow for my now widowed mother. She was still so young and beautiful, her marriage ending abruptly in less than 17 years. I don't know how late into the night it was when I heard my mother stirring. I wasn't sure if she had called for me or not, but when I pushed her bedroom door open I saw her crying softly in bed. I brought her a glass of water and she thankfully sipped it.
When I went to leave her she said, "No, don't. I don't want to be alone tonight." She rolled onto her side and I held her from behind, each of us comforting the other through warmth and love.
We fell asleep that way. I awoke with a burning, constricting sensation down below and realized that I had my trunks still on and that my penis was semi-erect. Then the thought dawned on me that I was holding this scantily-clad woman in my arms, voluptuous and beautiful, my hand was resting dangerously on one of my mother's ample breasts. I immediately grew hard. Jesus! My own mother! I had to get away, if not just to relieve my aching hard-on which was painfully twisted in my trunks.
I moved slightly to get away and she stirred in her sleep. I froze. My arm was trapped under her neck so I reached down with my other hand to release and adjust my throbbing prick. I couldn't get a good angle as my shorts were too tight. So I pushed them off down to my knees. Christ, what was I thinking!? If she awoke and saw my naked, throbbing cock--what would she think? I tried to bring my trunks back up but she moved again, closer into me, my prick mashed against her naked ass. Her naked ass! I realized then that her sheer nightgown had ridden up her waist, exposing her bare ass to me, surging my blood engorged cock to even harder and more painful heights. What was I to do?
"Mmmm," she stirred and placed her hand on my free hand. She entwined her fingers through mine and brought it to her stomach, wrapping our arms around her. I felt her naked body so close and I gulped. She was so beautiful, my mother. Then, still in sleep and drunken stupor, she pushed my hand down to her bush. I almost came then and there.
"Oh Conrad," she whispered my father's name. She was dreaming, and thinking of my dead father! A wet dream? I did not stop her as she guided my finger into her warm, wet flesh. It was exquisite and my breathing grew rapid, forgetting all conventions now. This was a woman in heat and I was a man who wanted her. Not a mother and son now; lovers!
Vera
- 16.03.2022
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