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We tip-toed around each other that next morning. In fact the awkward silence would last all day and into the days after the massage incident.
We talked, but it was mostly small talk as she busied herself around the house, making calls to her old friends, letting me catch up on school work online. She dressed the same every day, a loose hanging t-shirt, baggy shorts, barefoot and braless.
If she thought she was dressing down to keep me from desiring my mother, she wasn't succeeding. She was still my mom, the prettiest woman I'd ever seen, fit and tanned and drop-dead gorgeous no matter how she tried to hide it.
We exchanged glances and smiles as I typed away and she talked on the phone. Her routine seemed to be back to normal, a day of housework, practicing on her violin, a glass of wine in the evening before a simple meal, some TV and early bedtime.
We were slipping back into the lockdown, bored, predictable, careful of each other's space and never coming close to mentioning the incredible massage that was constantly on my mind and likely hers too.
I was in my room one evening, watching videos on my bed when I heard her on the phone in her room. Our doors were open, and I could hear her talking to her best friend, who she hadn't seen for almost a year.
She tried to whisper, but I walked to my doorway and listened intently.
"My goodness, Trish," she said in a loud whisper. "I don't know how much longer I can take this."
She listened to whatever Trish said then suddenly blurted out "I know! I'm so horny I don't know what to do!"
I quickly retreated to my room and closed the door quietly, the sound of which was louder than I intended. I sat on my bed frozen, half embarrassed for what I'd heard but strangely turned on by my mother's confession.
I was sitting in silence when I heard her quick footsteps in the hall. My door swung open as she passed, suddenly in a sing-song voice as she kept walking down the hall.
"No closed doors in this house young man," she said cheerily. "No secrets in this family!"
My eyes widened. Did she hear me? Does she know I heard her? I was excited in a strange way but a little scared too. I'd heard her most private thoughts. And it was NOT something I should've heard.
I could hear her in the kitchen banging pots and pans and singing. It was like she was back again, my mom the musician, my beautiful, confident mother I'd known all my life, not the tense, nervous, quiet mom of the lockdown.
I heard a cork pop and glasses clinking as she bounced alsancak escort bayan around the kitchen. I walked in quietly, trying to act normal, looking at her as I walked to the den.
"Hey mom," I said. "You look like..."
My voice trailed off.
"Like what?" she said, still in a cheery voice, pouring two glasses of wine and walking toward the couch.
"I don't know," I said. "Like your old self?"
"Ha!" she responded quickly. "I fear those days are gone forever. I'm just in a good mood. I might've found my happy pills though."
She winked as she leaned down handing me a glass of red wine. Her blouse was open an extra button or two and I caught a brief glimpse of her tits, hanging but pert and tanned as the rest of her body.
She held her position for a few seconds, letting me have a full view as she clinked her glass against mine.
"Cheers!" she said, turning and walking toward the stereo system across the room. Immediately, the sound of strings filled the room, quiet and lyrical before the woodwinds came to life, the brass in waiting, the Andante from Beethoven's 5th Symphony, one of my mom's favorite pieces.
She twirled and waved her air baton, bringing the horns to life, her glass of wine perfectly still, not a drop spilled despite her crossing the room in sweeping motions, directing the invisible orchestra, her orchestra, as I sat transfixed watching her come back to life.
Tears ran down her face as the orchestra seemed to follow her direction, which it did in the sense that she knew the symphony as well as those playing it.
I was beaming. The music was intoxicating, my mother was gorgeous, and they seemed to meld into one, a dancing conductor pirouetting in front of the fireplace, coaxing the entire orchestra for more as they brought the movement to its sublime finish.
She stood perfectly still in the silence that follows, holding one hand high, her finger and thumb holding the air baton, the other daintily in front of her, the glass of wine still perfectly even, her eyes closed, her face shining in tears of sheer joy.
Instinctively, I began to clap.
"Bravo! Bravo!"
She finally broke her pose, laughing, doubled over, the glass tilting but not spilling as she suddenly rose as if reacting to the crowd, turning to thank the roaring audience, pointing to an imaginary first violin beside me then leaning down and kissing my head.
"That was great, Mom." I said, smiling widely and looking directly into alsancak escort bayan her eyes.
"Oh honey," sighed. "I miss it so much. I miss the way we were, the way I was anyway."
She plopped down beside on the couch, a tiny bit of wine leaking down the side of her glass, which she licked animal-like without giving it a second thought. Then she took a big swig, hardly the way one would drink a glass of fine wine.
"I mean, I miss everything about the way it used to be, not just the symphony but the relationships, the after-parties, the dancing, the music, the sex..."
She stopped and looked at me with a feigned surprised look on her face.
"What did you say?" she said, looking at me.
"Don't look at me!" I said. "You said it."
She laughed and put her arm around me, almost like a man would, hugging my shoulders and clinking her glass against mine again. She sighed and closed her eyes, humming the string melody from Beethoven, slowly moving her wine glass in sweeping arcs, the fingers of her other hand tickling my ear.
I moaned quietly, my eyes closed. I felt the heat of her breath on my neck, which she kissed, slightly touching it with her tongue, and cooing in my ear.
"Oh, Seanny, I'm so..." her voice trailed off.
"What Mom?" I asked, probably with a little too much excitement in my voice.
She didn't answer. She just got up and took my glass from my hand and danced into the kitchen like a ballerina. She filled the glasses again, walked back into the den and leaned down as she did before, giving me a clear view of her tits, this time kissing me on the cheek before placing her glass on the coffee table and walking toward the stairs.
"I'll be back," she said as she bounded up the steps.
I watched her as she disappeared, leaving the room in a thick silence for several minutes before she came back downstairs wearing only a black satin chemise, barefoot.
She walked past me, leaned over to pick up her glass, again showing me her tits in all their glory, and looking up this time to make sure I was looking.
"I needed to change," she said, as if it needed explaining, taking yet another pill as she gulped another swig of red wine and walked to the stereo.
This time, soft and sensuous music quietly filled the room, strings only. She slowly walked back to the couch, staring into my eyes. As she turned to sit down, I placed my arm around her bare shoulder and pulled her to me.
"You look beautiful Mom," I whispered.
She escort alsancak curled up, her legs over mine, snuggled against me.
"You really think so?" she asked, her voice soft and girlish. "You think your mother's still beautiful?"
I pulled her tighter, sliding my hand down her bare back and kissing her on the head.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known," I said.
It was the most tender moment I can ever remember. She sighed again, her chest heaving, her breasts pressed against me.
"Seanny I'm so.. I'm..." her voice was slurring slightly. "I'm sorry. I took another pill. Take care of me Seanny."
I slid my hand farther down against the satin, feeling the hem and barely grazing her bare skin beneath it.
I felt her shudder. A low moan came from deep inside her. Her wine glass tilted as I took it from her hand and leaned over to put mine and hers on the table. When I did, her hand slid down my stomach and grazed the bulge in my shorts. When I leaned back, she ran her hand up my thigh, tracing a finger up to where my shorts were beginning to tent.
She traced the head of my cock and made another sound from deep within.
"Oh Seanny," she whispered. "I'm so horny."
"Mom," I said quietly. "Are you..."
"Shhhhhh," she whispered again. "Just hold me."
I held her as she traced her finger up and down my shaft, my hand now completely under the hem of her chemise. She wiggled a little, repositioned herself so that she was lying flat on her tummy, her bare ass showing.
I took a deep breath, blowing it out on the back of her neck, making her moan yet again. Her hands began to fumble with the waistband of my shorts and I instinctively helped her, sliding them off as my cock sprang up in her face.
She giggled like a girl and went down on it immediately, sliding all seven and a half inches into her throat, her mouth wide open.
"Wow," I whispered, sliding my hand down her back, pulling the hem of her satin top farther up as she raised herself to her knees, bobbing up and down on my cock.
My hand slid completely around one smooth ass cheek until my fingers reached her crack. She shuddered and moaned.
"Mmmmmmmm," was the only sound in the room other than her mouth slobbering on her son's cock. She wiggled her ass and made another sound.
"MmmmmmmHmmmmmm."
My fingers slid up and down the crack, brushing against my mother's hole as she shuddered and made animal sounds, low gutteral sounds, primal and hungry. She was on fire.
Before I knew it, she was off my cock and pulling me to the floor with her, shedding the top and getting on all fours. My heart was pounding. My head was spinning. My mother put her head on her arms, her bottom raised high like an animal in heat.
"Fuck me, Sean," she said, her voice now lower and clearer. "Fuck you mother."
(to be continued)