Goodness Gracious Pt. 03

"Very good," I answered.

"I'll bet," he mumbled. "I suppose you want to go play with your friend, don't you?" Another non-answer from me. Dad sighed, and tossed me the keys to his car. "Go on... I'll deal with your Mother. Do I have to warn you about being careful?" he smirked. "No, I suppose she's taken care of that. Get out of here, and have fun... just be home for dinner, or you'll get us both in trouble."

I still wondered when my Dad had been replaced by this obviously alien life form... the one that suddenly understood my feelings and was on my side, but I could figure that out later. Right now, I had places to go, and one particular person to see. I ran to the car. Before I started it, I fished my phone out of my pocket, and texted Grace that I was on my way.

I made it all the way to her hotel without incident, parked and raced in the front door, where she was waiting for me. She was surprisingly relaxed. I guess all those phone sex orgasms had satisfied her for now.

"Come on," she said, taking my hand, "I'm starving. Eat food now. Eat me later," she giggled.

A short walk away, we found a little hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that looked good, and ordered a deluxe large. Grace spoke up.

"Can we get that to go, please?" she asked, evidently not as satisfied as she initially seemed.

Twenty minutes later, we were exiting the elevator on her floor. We walked up to her door, and she pulled the key card out of her pocket. Just before she opened the door, she got this little grin on her face. She stepped in, but stopped me when I tried to follow.

"Give me a second," she whispered, closing the door, and leaving me standing in the hallway holding the pizza. She was nothing if not unpredictable. About a minute passed, then I heard her voice from within.

"Where is that damn pizza delivery boy?" she said.

Aha! Now I get it! This could be fun. I knocked twice.

"Who is it?" her voice sang melodically.

"Pizza, Ma'am!" I replied.

"Just a second," she chirped.

The door opened. Whoa!

There she was, wearing the thick terry robe the hotel provides for guests, and little else apparently. One sensuously smooth leg extended out of the robe below the sash, while above, the collar gaped open, showing a breathtaking amount of cleavage. Her hair was loose, tumbling across her shoulders. My mouth hung open.

"How much do I owe you?" she purred, fumbling at her wallet. She dropped a twenty. "Oops" she giggled, "I'm so clumsy!" She bent to retrieve the fallen cash, and her robe fell open, showing me her magnificent breasts. "Oh my goodness!" she hissed. "Perhaps you could make another kind of delivery for me?" she laughed, cupping her tits. "Why don't you come in?"

"Yes Ma'am," I gulped. My dick made walking difficult, but it was only a few steps. She closed the door behind me. "You're crazy!" I laughed. "I Love You!"

"Always wanted to jump the pizza boy," she whispered, taking the pizza box from me and placing it on the table. She stepped in, pressing her naked body against me, and wrapping her arms around my neck. "They're usually so scrawny though. Not a big, strong man like you... " Her lips found mine. Midway through the kiss, she started to giggle.

"I'm sorry, I blew that one. Should we try another take, or pick it up later?" That smile. So beautiful, and playful. Not a bad little actress, too. I'd pay to see those tits. No wonder I loved her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "we need ice for our drinks. Would you mind, darling? I'm not really dressed for a trip down the hall." The robe fell to the floor.

"Ice, yes, perhaps a cold shower," I laughed. I grabbed the bucket and sprinted to the ice machine. I was back before she finished her second bite of dinner.

"I must say, I rather like the dress code in this restaurant!" I laughed, casting my eyes across her naked body. She was ravenously downing pizza like her life depended on it, all the while pacing around the room like a caged tigress. I had a few slices as well, but I was hungry for something that wasn't on the menu... well, the pizza menu, anyway.

I stepped into the bathroom for a minute... you know, the call of nature and all... and when I came out, my darling nurse was in bed, resting on her elbow, the covers down around her waist. Her long ponytail had been restored, and draped over her shoulder. Her eyes smiled as brightly as her mouth, and she beckoned me closer with her finger.

I didn't need her to ask me twice, dropping my pants, and discarding clothing rapidly, while she held the sheet aside for me to join her. I did quickly, sliding into the cool embrace of the clean sheets, and the warm embrace of my dirty little girl.

"Ooooooo, our first time in a real bed together," she whispered.

"Nice, but I will miss our little padded cell," I laughed.

"I won't... and I don't expect to ever see that room again, unless you feel the need for nostalgia in about twenty years. It's all Sheila's now," she giggled, tracing her fingertip across my chest. "I only wish you could stay the night, but I understand why you must go home. At least home is a lot closer to me now than it was last week."

I didn't answer. She was right, but the greater problem persisted. In thirteen days, she would be leaving, and if I, or we, didn't find a solution for my Mother, we'd find ourselves thousands of miles apart again.

I remembered reading a poem once... I couldn't remember the title. Something about the promise of tomorrow, or that tomorrow's not promised... something like that. The author was very smart, and parts of the poem stuck with me: 'Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there. They serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are, and who you want to become'. He, or she, must have written it with me in mind, because it covered my feelings for Grace perfectly. We had been brought together for a reason, and whatever the obstacles before us, I wasn't going to let her get away.

"Baby? You okay?" I heard, through the fog of my own thoughts, and tuned back in. Grace looked mildly concerned. "You have a lot on your mind, don't you, honey?"

"Yeah, sorry," I replied. "Just thinking about how to get my Mom on board."

"I don't know your Mom, but I'm a woman, and I think you might be aiming a bit high there," she laughed. "Getting her 'on board' may be difficult. I'd settle for being the daughter-in-law she tolerates grudgingly. I know you hope that she and I can be friends, and I'd like that, too, but... "

"I know, don't get my hopes up, right?" I laughed.

"You never know. I have a few thoughts that I hope will help smooth things over with your Mother, but she needs some time before she might even listen." She smiled. "Until then, do you want to stew about it, or... "

"Shut up and kiss me," I replied. She nodded, and did exactly that, slithering atop me and exploring my mouth with her tongue.

As it turns out, Grace and I were ahead of schedule. I said I hoped to be balls deep inside her juicy little pussy by 3pm, and we were 35 minutes early, rolling blissfully around the large bed and enjoying each other greatly. She spent a lot of time with the corner of a pillow in her mouth, trying to muffle her screams of joy. Getting arrested would do nothing to improve her relationship with my Mother.

We fell asleep in each other's arms, napping peacefully until about 5pm, when we made a run through the shower together. I left reluctantly, but tomorrow was a new day, and I would be back.

***

I woke from my afternoon nap, and wandered to the head of the staircase. I could hear two voices in the kitchen. One was my Mother's, and it took me a few seconds to identify the second one, only because it was out of context. Actually, it was the laugh that answered the question, as I'd heard it before, usually just after screams of joy. It was Grace. I didn't even know she was here. I guess the time for 'that conversation' had arrived. She could have told me. She should have told me. I was glad she hadn't though ; I don't think I could have taken the anticipation. We had been together every day for over a week now, and I was getting used to the idea of making that permanent.

Creeping slowly down the stairs, I stopped and sat about halfway, out of sight but able to hear the conversation.

"Ms. Jackson, I really don't know why you're here," Mom said. I wasn't surprised that she sounded angry.

"Please, call me Grace. I'm here because we need to talk. It's not fair to Brian to have him in the middle." Nurse Grace was unflappable.

"Then the solution is simple, Ms. Jackson... Step away, out of the picture. Problem solved." Mom could be pretty cold when she was pissed. I knew that from personal experience.

"It's not that simple, and I'm quite sure you know that. Brian has feelings for me, and I have feelings for him... "

"Please! I know exactly what he feels for you!" Mom cut her off, venomously. "And using him for sex doesn't constitute having feelings for him!"

There was a palpable silence in the house, before Grace spoke again.

"Mrs. Richardson... I'm trying to be civil. I'm trying to understand your point of view. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, and be patient. Mostly I'm trying to remember that you are Brian's Mother, that he loves you, and I respect that. But... " I heard a chair squeak as someone shifted, "... I won't be spoken to in a disrespectful manner. When you question my motives, I can only interpret that as insulting." Another pause. "I'm not trying to replace you in Brian's life, Mrs. Richardson, but I do love him. This is not a battle, and if it comes to that, I think neither of us will win, and Brian will be hurt. Please talk to me. Tell me what I need to do to ease your mind."

"That's easy!" Mom scoffed, "just get about fifteen years younger!"

"Believe me," Grace laughed, "I'd love to! It would give me fifteen more years with a wonderful man, whom I love dearly. Is age really the only problem?"

There was silence. I don't know if it was the way Grace stood up for herself, or what the reason, but Mom was lost for words. That's when I heard the other sound. It was Mom... Crying.

I crept the rest of the way down the stairs, and moved silently to the kitchen door, where I saw Grace... holding my Mother as she wept. She looked up at me, smiled and shook her head, telling me to stay out of it. I nodded and backed away, taking up my perch again.

"Grace," Mom sniffed, after a few silent minutes, "Do you have children?" I noticed that the 'Ms. Jackson' designation had been shelved. Mom was softening.

"No, Mrs. Richardson, I don't. I've never met the right man, until now." I think she just said she wants to have my children!

"Please, call me Mary," Mom replied. "It's not a personal attack on you, Grace. I meant what I said to you at the hospital. I am very grateful you helped my baby recover from his injuries. I guess no mother wants to give up her child to another woman. The truth is, I wouldn't be happy with any woman he chose. Your age is just the easy thing to hate."

"I can understand that, Mary," my brave darling said, now that they were on a first name basis. "I suppose I would feel the same way, if he was my son."

"May I ask why you chose Brian?" Mom asked.

"He asked me the same thing!" she giggled. "All I can tell you is what I told him ; he touched my heart, and I fell in love. What more can I say? He's a wonderful, gentle, honest, caring man, and any woman would be lucky to have him in her life. He's also very handsome."

Listening to this was doing wonders for my ego.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Mom laughed. "I suppose, as one woman to another, I should congratulate you on landing such a fine young stud!" That started them laughing again, until Mom added, "I can't believe I just said that! And about my own son, too!" More laughter. "You really love him, don't you?"

"Almost as much as you do, Mary."

I was still stuck on my Mother calling me a stud. I almost missed the last bit.

"Okay. I'll find a way to make peace with the idea. But if you ever hurt him... " Mom warned.

"Understood," Grace answered.

I snuck back up the stairs, and went to lay down again. Grace was right before ; give them some time, and they talked it out. One issue was still outstanding, however, and I figured that my presence would be required to sort it out. Mom would make her peace with Grace as my girlfriend... with the idea of Grace as my girlfriend. That didn't mean she'd be happy that I wanted to return, with Grace, to the west.

One step at a time.

***

I was stunned at how quickly Mom accepted the new way of things. I know that Grace hadn't put it in terms as blunt as this, but the general message had been pretty simple ; share me, or lose me. If Mom had successfully blocked our relationship, she would have irreparably damaged her relationship with me. Mom would have preferred a more conventional girlfriend for me, but she was making lemonade.

Two days after their conversation, Mom asked me to bring Grace home with me for dinner. She knew what was going on every time I left, but that was water under the bridge now, just one of the things she'd have to learn to accept.

Invitation extended, my Sweetheart was delighted to accept, even going so far as to call Mom, and ask if there was anything she needed us to pick up on the way back, or if she wanted any help with dinner. Mom politely declined, but the olive branch had been offered. We actually did go home early... after we had exhausted each other yet again. The only thing lost was some nap time. What we gained was immeasurable.

I sat back and watched in amazement, as Grace did what only a few days before had seemed impossible. She started out chit-chatting, while Mom cooked, getting more involved with each minute, until her offer of help was accepted. Before long, the two of them were cooking together, talking and laughing like longtime friends. Mom made eye contact with me, and smiled, nodding her head. Mission accomplished.

During dinner, the final hurdle fell away. It was Mom who brought it up.

"So," she exhaled, "I suppose the plan is for you to move back out west, right?" She was staring at me.

"Um, yes... I was hoping that we could be together, and Grace has a career out there already."

"I understand," she said evenly. "What about school?"

"Yeah, well the accident pretty much cost me the entire year. I've talked to my professors, and there's no way I can make up the time lost," I answered.

"Actually," Grace piped up, "I have something to add, if I may?" Mom nodded. "I did a little checking, before I came here. There's a school in my home city that will accept his transfer credits, and he can still get the same degree. Yes, this year is a write off, but not a waste."

"Really?" Mom said, surprised at Grace's diligence. She turned to me. I was as surprised as she was. "Do you want to go to school out there?"

"Oh, he's going! I can promise you that!" Grace laughed. "No man of mine is going to be a bum!" A subtle wink came my way.

"But what if I don't want to go to school?" I pouted. Mom and Grace were engaged in conversation again, and barely noticed my tantrum.

"Save your breath, son," Dad said, patting me on the back. "There's two of them now. You're going to school."

Sigh. Happy dance.

The evening progressed, until it was getting late. I had brought Grace back in Dad's car, not thinking far enough ahead to plan for a return trip. I figured I'd have to run her back to her hotel, then come home again. Mom and Dad walked us to the front door.

"So, we'll see you in the morning?"

I thought they were talking to Grace, but they were looking straight at me.

"I'm just going to run her home. I'll be back in a half hour," I replied, confused.

"It's okay. If you're going to be, um... together... when you go home, a few extra days won't change things," Dad said.

I still didn't get it, but Grace did. "We could stay here?" she asked.

"Oh no you won't!" Mom said, actually laughing. "I think I've had about all the change I can take for one day! I know what you'll do... together... but I'd rather it not be happening in the next room. I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. Just stay in the hotel, and come back in the morning. We'll help you pack." She didn't smile, but she wasn't kidding.

I finally caught up. I think my parents just gave me permission to spend the night... alone... with my girlfriend. Oh my god. Super happy dance!

***

An hour later, we were snuggled together, in bed. I was awake but my darling was asleep, her breathing smooth and even, tickling my chest. We didn't even get a chance to make love, before Grace succumbed to the physical and emotional drains of the day.

Despite the apparent ease with which she had won over my Mother, the stress of the situation had wiped her out. I now had an even greater respect for her, amazed that she had been so calm, cool and collected on the surface, while enduring that much duress. Well, she was a nurse, and I suppose that ability comes with the territory.

I fell asleep feeling the warmth of our love surround me. Cliché, I know, but I was happy.

My dreams were... well, there are times when 'weird' just doesn't quite adequately express how far from normal things were. The most disturbing dream had me making love with Grace, before an audience... and a panel of international judges... which included my Mother. As Grace screamed in orgasm and I emptied my seed into her, the judges each held up a scorecard. "5.7, 5.7, 5.6, 5.6... " the announcer called. The Russian judge gave us a 5.8, but my Mother... my own Mother, gave us a 3.2. We missed the medal podium by one point.

See. I told you. Weird. Freud would be proud.

***

I woke to a different feeling. Lips, soft and wet, tracing up my neck. A hand, sliding softly across my chest in a loving gesture, then moving down slowly, further, further, until it reached its goal, and gripped my rapidly stiffening cock firmly.

"Baby, are you awake?" she hissed.

"Parts of me more than others," I mumbled, clearing the cobwebs.

"Sorry baby. I need you," she answered. "Take me. I need your cock, so baaad."

"Your wish is my command!" I laughed. Her hand had performed its wonders on my flesh, and was tugging it, begging it to come in and play. Her thighs parted, and I eased on top of her, sliding into the warm, wet embrace of her vagina. She was drenched, and accepted my intruder without comment, save the whimper of satisfaction that slipped past her kissable lips.

"Oh my god, that's better," she whispered, "my pussy was lonely. Now, please fuck me... fuck me fast... fuck me hard... use and abuse my cunt. Make me feel it!"

There was a time when doing so... basically acting in a selfish, totally male fashion, and using her to get myself off... would have been a foregone conclusion. Just fuck the shit out of her, and let the cum fall where it may.

No longer. Her enjoyment was very important to me, and even on the occasions where she intentionally put my release ahead of hers, I felt a bit guilty at her not getting to have as much fun as I had.

Getting asked to treat her in such a way, had initially been a conflict for me, but we'd talked it out. When she asked me for a specific behaviour, she was role playing, and wanted to be treated according to the role. Tonight's role was a desperate, promiscuous slut.

I grunted, ploughing into her wetness hard, dropping my shoulder into her face, without regard for her comfort. There would be no loving, kissing, or words of endearment until the role was fulfilled. My hips pounded up and down at a furious pace, and the loud slapping of our bodies was drowned out by the protesting groans of the bed frame, squeaking and banging under our movements. The headboard rattled wildly against the wall, and Grace moaned as I drilled into her pussy over and over.