Hi Mom, I'm Homebypeachesmelba©
With special thanks and appreciation for the idea, input and editorial assistance provided by Reiner43 - thank you my friend, for letting me pick your brain and for sharing your memories.... And as always, with all things, my love and appreciation to R.S. for....everything!
I seemed to have been cooking and cleaning for days, and now I was darting to the window every few minutes - every time I heard a car door slam or a neighborhood dog bark. 'They're coming home...My boys are coming home...' My heart seemed to skip every other beat with joy and relief as I wiped the already spotless kitchen counter one last time and I sat down, mentally assessing the menu to make sure everyone's favorites were included. Mulling over my coffee I grew lost in my memories....
Mike and Chris had grown up together, becoming 'Best Buds' in Kindergarten. They'd played T-ball and peewee basketball together - taught each other how to swim - Mike taught Chris to ride a 2-wheeler and Chris taught Mike how to cast a fly-rod. They hadn't always agreed and, as boys will, had battled often over everything from ideology to who's Mom made better cookies (which always made me laugh because Linda didn't bake to start with so what they found to argue about was a puzzle to me).
Linda and I had both been single mothers - it should have made a bond between us - but we were never as close as the boys were. Linda tended to flightiness - in life and in motherhood - but I think she resented that Mike liked being at my house more, where meals and bedtimes were regular and the power was on unless storms or other natural disasters interfered.
By the time the boys were Juniors in High School, Mike was more or less living at our house - Linda was off on a motorcycle adventure with an unemployed artist - and I stood in 'loco parentis' as it were. Mike had been calling ME 'Mom" as well for a few years by then, 'Aunt' Maggie seeming a little awkward and not being able to bring himself to call me just 'Maggie'. It was fine with me - I loved ALL my sons - dishing out praise, punishment and oodles of love and good cooking. The boys had graduated together, taken a year of Community College to sort themselves out and then enlisted together.
The recruiter and I had both warned them that they might not even go to basic let alone ever serve together, but they were determined, and as things turned out - they were also lucky. From basic training on - they had gone every step of the way together - able to stand together, comfort each other, strengthen each other, and watch each other's backs. And now, after a total of 18 months of what they would only describe as 'hell' in the Middle East - my boys were coming home for a long leave and a state-side duty assignment.
Lost in my musing - wondering how they will have changed - I was startled when the kitchen door opened but expected my oldest son, Tim to pop in. Instead the door swung wide with the breeze. Thinking that perhaps the wind had blown it open I got up to close it but as I came around the counter, who should I see, standing at the foot of the stairs - grinning like a pair of tanned, camo-clad monkeys but my boys! Simultaneous, as always, came the chorus of -
"Hi Mom, I'm HOME!"
Squealing with delight I dove down the stairs to wrap them up in hugs and kisses. It was a total surprise when both boys picked ME up and swung me off my feet instead, hugging me tightly and kissing my cheeks loudly. When had they gotten so tall and broad-shouldered, I wondered? It hadn't been that long since they'd been home on leave and I certainly didn't recall such a dramatic change....
I was babbling, asking when and how they'd gotten in? And they were both laughing and slapping each other on the back - bragging about how they 'snuck in on stealth mode' and about how surprised I was. As they came into the house suddenly the kitchen seemed too small. Eyes darting everywhere they took in the buffet spread across the counters - sink filled with ice and beer - platters of sandwich 'fixin's' - chips and homemade dips and salsa - Chris' favorite, the bratwurst simmered happily in a pot of beer, waiting for his brother Tim to come and throw them on the grill - Mike's favorite li'l smokies in barbecue sauce - my granddaughter's favorite broccoli salad - Tim's favorite barbecue rice - there was something special for everyone.
The boys shrugged off their shirts, popped open a couple of the Coronas and drained them without stopping. Chris belched and Mike called him a 'douchebag'. It was a lot like it always had been - except for the shadows behind their eyes - the wariness in their stance - their lean muscularity and the fact that I now barely came up to their shoulders. Oh, and the matching unit tattoos on their biceps.
They were laughing and talking - trading stories about their trip home - people they'd seen and places they'd been when it happened. Chris accidentally dropped a chip loaded with dip on the floor and yelled, "C'mere Sammy - come and get it!"
Looking at me he asked, "Mom, where's Samson? Did you put him in the bedroom? Can I let him out?"
Heart in my throat and tears filling my eyes I shook my head, "No, son. I didn't have the heart to tell you before you got home - I didn't want you to be distracted."
"Awww shit, no!" from Mike as he reached to grab Chris by the shoulder in a tight hug.
"The vet said it was spinal disc disease - that basset hounds are prone to it. He went down pretty fast - he just couldn't hold on till you got home, he tried but we lost him this Spring."
We were all now tightly locked in a three-fold hug, freely dripping tears. My face was buried in someone's chest. There was a very masculine smell of clean male, and aftershave. It was very comforting just to lean there against that broad firm surface for a brief while. There was a rumble from somewhere within the chest I was leaning on -
"When?" Mike again.
"April," I replied. It was late June now.
"Stupid ol' dog," Chris now. "Couldn't wait two more months."
We'd had Samson for 14 years and we'd all grown attached to his soulful looks, long floppy ears and his galloping good will and it had been a long, lonely two months without him around the house keeping me company. It was an enormous relief when the door popped open again and Tim, his wife Debbie and little Katie came in. Katie, at four, was a carrot-top with curly pigtails and freckles and she adored her uncles.
Shrieking happily on a note guaranteed to pierce eardrums and shatter crystal she demanded, "Down Daddy!"
Reaching the boys she grabbed one by each leg exclaiming, "Unc' Mike! Unc' Chris! I love you! Now pick me UP!"
"All right sweetpea. How's my favorite girlfriend?" Chris, at 6'4" was the tallest of the three boys and once she was seated on his shoulder the bows on her pigtails brushed the ceiling.
"I'm fine. I'm going to Kinniegarden soon. Look Unc' Chris, Gramma made broclily salad."
"Broccoli" he corrected.
"S'what I said," she patted him on the head. "Your heads fuzzy Unc' Chris. Shhhhh. I got a secret."
Chris was still eating - passing occasional tidbits to his niece. "Oh?" he replied absently. "What's the secret?"
"Mommy's got a baby in her tummy."
We all simultaneously turned to look at Debbie who blushed. Tim waved the barbecue tongs in Katie's direction -
"Uh oh! Unc' Mike - I gotta pee!"
Everyone laughed at the diversionary tactic and I took Katie off to the bathroom as the door opened again to admit some of the boys' friends from High School.
# # #
All things considered, I thought, it had been a long hard day. Several days in fact spent cleaning the house and patio and making sure that everything had been sparkling clean - no dust to remind them of the dreary days in their past. I groaned at a sore shoulder muscle and shifted in bed. I was exhausted - no doubt about that - but I was too wound up to sleep. I listened but the house was silent. The boys were apparently asleep at the far end of the house and I was alone in my room off the kitchen. My mind wandered back to the moment this afternoon when I'd realized what a pleasure it was to feel a man's arms around me again, and soon I was thinking of...remembering...one thing that never failed to send me sweetly to sleep. My hands wandered with my thoughts, one hand lazily stroking a nipple through my gown, the other reaching lower, running one finger gently down the length of my slit. My pussy pulsed and throbbed under my fingers as my need began to build. Getting up I closed my bedroom door and dropped my nightgown in a puddle of moonlight at the foot of the bed.
Reaching into the drawer next to the bed I could have picked out what I wanted blindfolded - just by feel. The smooth silken feel of the silicon vibe fell immediately into my hand and it hummed quietly when I turned the base. Long and slender the detailed vein-like ridges and slightly bulbous head always seemed to reach just the right spots. Leaving it on low I licked and sucked it, trying to build a fantasy in my mind. Another stray thought from the afternoon intruded. Oh - yes - the clean male smell of soap and deodorant and a hint of muskiness - a very nice aftershave - a strong warm chest. How long since I'd leaned against a strong warm chest and had real arms around me instead of just those of my 'dream lovers'?
Didn't bear thinking about really, but now I was getting even more aroused. I could feel my nether lips swelling and my own honey beginning to moisten my thighs. Wetting my fingertips I swirled them around a nipple. God that felt good. The night breeze wafting through the window was cool despite the heat of the day. Sudden gooseflesh pebbled my skin and my nipples drew up hard and tight. The vibe was warm from the heat of my mouth now and I touched it to the other nipple remembering...other hands, other tongues and teeth touching me. Tracing a line of fire down my neck, the underside of my raised arm, the fold of my arm, the sensitive skin below my breast and down my flank. A sigh of pleasure escaped my lips when I first touched the tip of the saliva slick toy to my sex.
Sliding the tool slowly between the folds of my cunt I felt the pressure building higher. Still vibrating on the low setting, I moved it lightly over the tip of my clit, dipping the head just inside the mouth of my pussy. I seemed to actually be able to hear the slurping sound my juices make as I moved the vibe rapidly in and out for a minute, teasing myself. But that's not quite the sensation I want either.
Laying the silicon toy to one side for now I reach into the drawer again. Here in the corner - the Astroglide - yes, that might work I think and popping the cap up I pour the shockingly icy fluid over my nipples, and down my belly to my slit. My nipples are hard as rocks now, big around as my little fingers and I twist and tweak them, feeling the pleasure run straight through to my cunt. God yes, that's so good. Running my fingertips down my belly, through the viscous fluid and over my clit.
Pulling my folds up and apart and using just the pads of my fingertips I begin strumming back and forth across the top of my clit - imagining a saliva wet tongue dancing across and over it in similar fashion. Over and around and back to the strumming rhythm. My legs involuntarily spread wider. Tonight I want something different - something more.... Fumbling toward the back of the drawer I put my hand on a surface that gives. That's it - that's the ticket. Purchased years ago on a whim the dildo was bigger than any I usually used and made of a spongy material called "real skin". I don't ordinarily enjoy it because of its strange texture but tonight.....
Coating my hands in the lube pooled around my navel I cover the shaft in my hand sliding it between my nether lips. The head alone was as big around as the shaft of my previous toy. A slow inch at a time, easing the big toy out and then sliding it back in, a little further every time, till my cunt is stretched hot and tight around the massive rod. I am so full and every movement pulls my clitoris down against the big dildo.
Strumming my fingers across the tight skin surrounding my clit now sends my pleasure spiraling. My own lubrication is increasing, and the monster cock is sliding in and out more easily. I'm close, really close. I just need....more hands or something.... Grabbing the vibe again I thumb the base to set the speed on high and hold it to my clit.
The orgasm rocks me - all my muscles seize, my back arches up and off the bed, knees locking and I roll to one side shuddering helplessly in the throes of the aftershocks. I have enough strength left to pull the sheet over me and think, "yes, now I can sleep and tomorrow......."
# # # #
All things considered, he thought, it had been a long hard day. Several days in fact spent traveling across half a world of distance and an eternity of time. He wasn't used to sleeping in a soft bed in a room that was too quiet anymore. Most of all, he simply wasn't used to sleeping soundly - for any length of time - the guys who did didn't come home. He rolled over again but it was no good - he needed to check the perimeter. He knew in a rational, logical sort of way that everything would be fine but he had to do it before he could rest again.
Moving on cat feet in the hall he worried briefly that it might be too dark - you can't turn on a light dude, defeats the purpose and they can locate you then. Shaking his head at his own whimsy he realized there was enough moonlight coming in for him to see where he was going and he began to methodically check the doors and windows to make sure that all was safe and secure. Moving toward the front of the house he thought briefly about stepping outside and having a butt. Mom didn't approve of smoking in the house but there were plenty of ashtrays, chairs and tables outside on the patio.
He thought he heard a noise - an odd sort of noise. Is that Mom? Is she okay? Worried, but with the continued stealth born of survival training achieved under hard circumstances he eased her door open. Shaking his head at himself again and thinking, "dude if she's just having a bad dream you don't want to wake her up." Instead he caught his breath at what the moonlight revealed....
Mom - breasts and belly glistening with some kind of oil - her legs spread wide and hands busy at her pussy. God damn, Mom....Maggie, forever and hereafter, MAGGIE! He felt himself stirring and getting hard watching her. Seeing the size of the plaything she found to use sent his own hand to his zipper. He didn't think he'd ever been so hard and his dick was starting to ooze pre-cum. Wrapping his fist tight around the base, his fingers barely met and he gave a tug thinking, "'Monster' m'friend, there may be hope for you yet!"
He stroked as Maggie stroked, slowing and delaying himself so that he could watch her cum before his own hot jets spurted into the hastily grabbed kitchen towel. God, she was so beautiful, curled limp and spent from her climax. He wished... A whisper of noise from upstairs alerted him and he closed the door softly, shoving the wadded up towel to the back of the counter. As the padding of quiet footsteps neared the kitchen he turned on the faucet quietly, filling the nearby cup with water. God-water you could drink from the faucet-what a luxury!
Chris's soft voice came from behind him - not the sibilance of a whisper but softer than a sigh - yet clearly audible and pitched to his ears, "You too?"
Turning his back to the counter he grinned in the dark. "Checking the perimeter?" His own voice equally soft, indistinguishable from the other night noises over 10 feet away.
An answering flash of white was Chris's responding grin. "Want a butt?"
"Naw man, I'm good."
What he wanted was to get back to his room where he might be able to get control of his shaking hands again. To lose himself in the heady memory of this afternoon when she had wept on his chest. To smell her perfume again after 18 months of smelling dirt and sand and his own sweat. To feel her breasts pressed against him. The ones he had just seen, glistening in the moonlight, her nipples..... Gulping the last of the water he set the cup back down with a sharp click, harder than he'd intended. Chris had his hand on the door but paused to look back.
"Yeah. G'night man."
Back in his room he lay on the bed putting his skills as squad leader to use formulating a 'battle plan'. Arms crossed behind his head, staring into the dark, he thought about how Maggie had always treated him like another son - a welcome extension to her family. A secure feeling when he was younger and needed the love and comfort a home and mother had provided. She never knew or suspected she'd been his first fantasy of choice when his growing balls had ached for relief. Chris did and hadn't objected - just thought he was nuts for picking Mom instead of J-Lo or Beyonce or someone like that... Not that there was anything at ALL wrong with those choices either and he'd beat his meat a time or two (or a hundred he grinned at the thought) to fantasies of them as well. But Mom...Maggie...was here. He knew the smell of her perfume, her hair after she washed it. How she looked first thing in the morning with tousled hair and her nipples showing through her T-shirt as she made the coffee...bending over to feed Samson with her white granny panties tucked between her pouty pussy lips and her pear-shaped ass in the air. How many mornings in high school had he had to run back upstairs and frantically beat off before school? How many days had they gone to school? He started to figure it in his head and then gave up the diversion.
The problem was, the way he saw it, that Maggie still viewed both of them as kids, as her sons. Step One then will be getting her to see him as a full grown male and no relation to her. Step Two will be to get Chris out of the house. Step Three then....but here his mind was overwhelmed with a barrage of mental pictures and possibilities. He wasn't a virgin but had to admit a serious lack of solid experience. He knew the basic mechanics and that Post A went into Slot B...only in his case that had been hard to arrange. Girls his own age had tended to take one look at his pecker and get pale. Ten inches erect, he thought it was the fact that he was fully seven and a half inches in circumference at the base that was the biggest problem. Even the two biggest 'sluts' at school, who laid the entire football team, had taken one look and gulped. It had taken an amazing amount of beer on his 18th birthday to talk one of them into letting him put it in. That and a couple of pros was the extent of his experience.
He'd seen movies, and magazines though, and read plenty of on-line erotica, he had an idea of what to do. It was just where and how to start that was so overwhelming. But seeing Maggie with her hand wrapped around that big thing (what were they called again....oh yeah, dildos) - sliding it in and out of her, glistening in the moonlight with her juices. He KNEW she could handle 'Monster'. Remembering the sight sent his blood rushing to his cock again, and it stirred, hardened and eventually stood proudly with a slight right hand curve, the darkened red skin of the helmet already showing a pearly drop of pre-cum. Rubbing his thumb over the head lightly he spread the silky fluid, enjoying the sensation and imagining how it might feel to have Maggie's lips and tongue covering him.
As more of the fluid oozed he visualized again every memory of Maggie's breasts in detail. Nipples proud and puckered on cold mornings, breasts full and rounded with only a slight sag against her ribs. Her skin, shining like liquid silver in the moonlight tonight and the flex of her calf and thigh muscles when her orgasm hit her and she arched off the bed before collapsing on her side. The swell of her ass and the deep V indent of her pussy. Imagining her pussy and the soft, wet velvet warmth surrounding him he stroked himself to completion again and finally collapsed into dreamless sleep.