How to Eat an Elephant

I went to see Jim. Unless he was bullshitting me, he had some experience in this and maybe he could help me jumpstart things. I had tried a few bites of elephant and I liked it, and wanted more. Tasty things, those elephants.

When I got to Jim's house, he was waiting in the garage. "I've got the coach ready, if you're ready," he said.

"What are you talking about? Look, man. I'm stuck. I can't get a response out of her. She lets me kiss her, sometimes, but she's giving me nothing in return. What do I do?"

The door from the garage to the house opened, and Sarah stuck her head out. "Come on in, boys. I'll get some salsa and chips for you."

I looked at Jim, and raised my eyebrows in question.

"I talked to Mom, and she agreed to talk with you about it, but only if you swear, absolutely swear, you will never say anything to anyone about us. I figured you would benefit by hearing from a Mother's perspective. Whatta ya think?"

We went into Jim's man cave over the garage, and sat down. I sat in an easy chair, while Jim and Sarah sat together on the couch. Sarah sat very close to Jim, and took his hand.

Sarah smiled at me. That sweet, pretty Mom face, and I was probably the only one who knew she was fucking at least one of her sons. I'll admit, I had lusted over Sarah for years. She was always the fun Mom, cheerful and always there for us. As I said, she spoiled Jim and his brothers. We used to say, "Whatever Jim wants, Jim gets." I had to stifle a laugh as I thought of that.

Sarah said, "I guess this is a lot for you to digest, Billy. Are you sure you're okay with it? I agreed to talk with you because Jim said you needed some help."

I had a little trouble looking her in the eyes. I mean, she knew what I wanted. I knew what she had been up to - when did they start, for Chrissake? "Yeah. It's a lot." I tried to make a joke. "Look, why can't you just call her up, tell her what I want, and we can knock it out this afternoon?"

She laughed at that. "If it were only that easy, huh? No, it's not, though. What you're talking about is the deepest secret any woman can ever have. No matter what the secret is, this one is deeper, because it's more dangerous. You understand that?"

"Yeah. You can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, Sarah."

"I do trust you, Bill. Let me ask you first, who else do you know who is doing this? Who else in your group is sleeping with his Mom?"

I didn't know what to say. "Uuuuh," I started.

"That's right. Uuuuh. You don't know anyone who is doing it, so you assume no one is doing it. Right?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I can tell you, there's a lot more of it going on than you think. It's just that no one talks about it. When two consenting adults have an affair, they usually don't advertise it, do they? They keep it a secret. This is even more a secret, so you just don't know who is doing it. But I guarantee you many are. I'll tell you right now, I'm sure you've read all the story sites and I hope you know that 99.99% of the stories about Mothers and Sons are pure bullshit."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that."

"Sure, they're the fevered ravings of teen-aged boys or men who never got it, but wanted it. They just don't ring true. Tell me, Bill. If this works for you, are you going to write a story about it?"

"Hell, no."

"Well, there you have it. A few of the stories I have read do ring true, and I suspect they were written by people who have done it and want to help others find their own way. Kind of "How To" manuals. But they're few and far between. If you do this, it has to be an absolute secret. You know how such a thing could hurt Victoria if it got out."

"Oh, I know. I know."

She smiled. "But once you're in it, you will be able to recognize others, even if they never admit it. What did you think of my relationship with Jim before you knew?"

"I just thought you were very close, and you were a very loving Mom."

"Right. Sadly, it was an unusual appearing relationship, I'm sure, because most Mothers and Sons are distant with each other. You've been cold toward your Mother since you hit puberty. It's just the way it is. All men are like that. You want her, but you're afraid of her, so you push her away. When you see a son who is not pushing his Mother away, you can bet he's either there, or he's trying to get there."

She continued. "But you want to know the rest? We have the same feelings. Every Mother has fantasized about her son. But if you're afraid to do anything about it, how afraid do you think we are? The Mother will never make the first move. Victoria will never make the first move. She's terrified. Every Mother teases her son in one way or another. What woman doesn't feel excited when someone wants her so powerfully? So, of course we tease you. We'll let you see us in our underwear - that's harmless, right? Nothing wrong with a son seeing his Mother like that, because sons shouldn't want their Mothers in that way. It's wrong, so we kind of deny it can even exist. But it's there."

"You mean Mom has thought of me in that way?"

Sarah gave a belly laugh. She looked so good when she laughed like that. "Bill, there are few things in life I would bet on, but that's a sure bet. Let's get down to it. Where are you now?"

"Well, I spend more time with her. I tell her I love her. I hug her. I kiss her on the lips, but she doesn't like it when I try to use a little tongue."

"Oh, she likes it. She's just not going to let you think she likes it. Do you think any Mother wants her son to think she's easy?"

I laughed at that. "So you're saying she's going to make me work for it?"

"You're going to have to work harder for it than you've ever worked for anything. You know what you're going to have to do?"

"What?"

"You're going to have to stick with it. I suspect she knows what you want now. The cat's kind of out of the bag, I guess, so you're going to have to prove to her that you really want to have a deep, loving relationship with her and you're not just playing at something you really don't want. This is key, Bill. She has to believe, truly believe, that you love her deeply and that what you want is just a component of the love you want to share. Once she believes, truly believes, that if she lets you in, it won't destroy your relationship, then you're there. She has to know it will make your relationship stronger, not worse. That's her greatest fear. She doesn't want to hurt you or lose your love and respect."

"So what do I do?"

"Just keep on trying. This isn't a girl you're trying to get in the sack. This is your Mother, and you're trying to love her more completely. It will be forever. Forever. You can't break up with your Mother like you can with a girlfriend. You have to show her that you're in it forever."

She looked at Jim. "Right, Jim?"

He looked back at her, and I could see the love in his eyes. "Forever, Mom. Forever."

She looked from Jim to me, and then back to Jim. "That doesn't mean you aren't going to date and, if the right woman comes along, it doesn't mean you aren't going to get married. I want you to find love, get married, and give me grandchildren if it comes to that. It just means that you will always have my complete love, and I'll always have yours."

Jim leaned over and kissed her on the lips. It was the first kiss I had ever seen from a son to his Mother, in that way, and I thought it was beautiful. I was honored they shared it with me.

Sarah said, "You've done the hardest work already, Bill. The hardest thing is to get Victoria to look at you as a man with sexual desires for her, and not as a boy. Once you've done that, then all you have to do is make her know how much you want her for the long-term, and let her convince herself it will be okay. I'll tell you this. You will never convince Victoria to make love to you. She'll either convince herself, or it won't happen."

I went home with my head whirling. I couldn't get the image of Sarah giving Jim a blowjob out of my mind. I know, I know. It's all about a deeper love but I'm a guy, and I couldn't get the image out of my head. Beautiful Sarah, gobbling Jim's dick. Then the image morphed into Mom, giving me a blowjob. I was hard as a rock.

I went in to hug Mom, and Dad was there. Mom gave me a stiff little hug and a peck on the cheek, and went back to her puttering around the kitchen. As I thought about it later, that meant something to me. She clearly wanted Dad to see just a normal, kind of cool, relationship between us, as if nothing had changed. But something had changed. She knew that I wanted her sexually. Maybe I wasn't as cool about it, as suave, as I could have been, but she knew. She didn't want Dad to know.

When he went into the den, I said, "Come here," and took her in my arms.

She giggled and said, "Oh, you bad boy." She said it in kind of a flirting voice, and if my dick was hard before, it was approaching diamond cutter status now.

Mom and Dad had to run out to the garden center that afternoon. Look, you know I'm just a guy, right? I'm not trying to present myself as some saint, or something. I'm a guy. What do guys do, from the time they're teenagers? Right. I went to her laundry basket to check out her dirty panties. I had to see if I was having any effect on her. When I opened the basket, sitting right on top of the dirty clothes was a pair of pink panties. Now I'm no expert at many things, but I am an expert in Mom's panties. I mean, I'd been checking them out for years. I knew how much discharge was normal, and how much discharge meant she had been turned on. With these panties, she had been turned on.

But more, what were they doing right on top of the pile? That wasn't Mom's pattern. Her panties were always buried down in the dirty clothes. They came off before other things, and there was always something on top of them. She may not have been trying to hide them, but there was always some other item on top of them. But this time, they were sitting right on top. Was it a signal? Did she know I would check them out? I thought that was asking a bit much, but I didn't know. I mean, Mothers don't know their sons are checking their panties out, do they?

I put them back, and then placed a pair of her socks on top of them. If she had left them for me, she'd know I had checked them out. If she hadn't left them for me, she wouldn't notice they weren't as she left them. It was worth a try. Kind of a secret communication between us, maybe.

I ate supper with them, and Mom and I were cleaning up the kitchen after we finished and Dad had gone into the den. I washed the dishes, and Mom cleaned the counters. When I finished, I dried my hands and Mom moved to the sink to rinse her sponge. I slid behind her, put my hands on her waist, and bent down to kiss the back of her neck. I then took a bold move, and pushed my dick against her butt. She didn't say anything, so I moved my hands around to her stomach and pulled her back into me. I wasn't grinding into her, but I was clearly pulling her ass onto my dick, and she had to know it. She had to feel it. She put her hands down onto mine, and squeezed them. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

"Nope, Mom. I'm not giving up. I know what I want."

"You may not get what you want, Bill. We don't always get what we want. Sometimes what we want isn't good for us."

"What I want is to love you, Mom." I laughed softly in her ear. "It's not like I'm asking for a kidney."

She laughed, too, and then we went into the den. She plopped down in her regular place and then said to Dad, "We're going to watch a movie. Why don't you watch with us?"

He groaned. "Are you kidding? We're playing the Mets tonight. I'm not missing that," and he got up to go to the basement.

After he left, Mom grinned at me and patted the couch beside her. Without a word, I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into me, lowering her head to my chest, and I kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Mom. I always have, and I always will."

She didn't say anything. The position she was in had her cheek against my chest so that she was looking down at my lap. There is no way she couldn't notice my hard dick, only inches from her face, if her eyes were open. I stroked my fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head again.

She shifted so she could look into my eyes. "I don't want to ever do anything to risk losing you, Honey."

"You'll never lose me, Mom. You're stuck with me forever." I hugged her to me and slid my right hand down her right arm so I was gently stroking it. My hand was inches from her perfect tits, and I hungered to reach over and give them a squeeze. I was afraid, so I didn't. Rubbing my dick against her ass was one thing, but grabbing her tits was quite another, if that makes sense.

She straightened up. "We'd better pick a movie, hadn't we?"

With hundreds of movies on Netflix, we couldn't find a thing to watch. We finally settled on one, and started it. From downstairs, we could hear the game going. We sat on the couch together, snuggling innocently while we watched. "Innocently." Right. It sure wasn't innocent on my part. I was hard the whole time, and couldn't even tell you what we were watching. I wanted her to touch my dick. I wanted to hold her tits. But she didn't, and I didn't. We just snuggled. Innocently.

We heard Dad coming up the stairs, and Mom quickly shooed me to the other loveseat. I settled back, and when Dad came in to announce the halftime score, we were separated by several feet. So she knew we were doing something he shouldn't know about, huh? Not so innocent, then, was it? As soon as he went back downstairs, I was back beside Mom and we snuggled together again. I stroked her arm and then bent down to kiss her neck, right under her ear. She shivered. "Bad boy. That tickles. You shouldn't make your Mother shiver like that."

When the game was over and Dad headed upstairs to bed, we stayed together and started another movie. I sure didn't want this moment to end, and I guess Mom didn't, either.

I wanted my hand on that tit. Was this the right moment? Would I screw it up if I moved too fast? Would she get mad? Would I ruin everything I had gained? Wouldn't it be better to do nothing? Just stay with what I had?

But I was so hot I couldn't stand it. If she were any other woman and we were at this point, I'd have my hand on her tit. So, I thought I'd treat her like any other woman. From rubbing her arm, I extended my fingers and lightly brushed the side of her right breast. She had on a tee shirt with a heavier shirt over it, and I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. She grabbed my hand and held it on her arm, keeping my fingers away from her tit, and said, "Just watch the movie, bad boy."

"Just watch the movie, bad boy?" Hell, the movie was the last thing on my mind. But it was all out there in the open now, wasn't it? I had made a move on her breast, and she hadn't jumped up screaming at me. To me, her gesture was not, "No, don't do that." It was more, "I know what you want, but now is not the right time." That make sense? If the message was, "No way, no how," then she would have chastised me and that would have been that. But she didn't.

A couple of long minutes later, I resumed rubbing her arm and, again, stroked my fingers on the side of her breast, this time a little more boldly. She gave a theatrical sigh, took my hand again, and held it on her arm. She knew what I wanted. She knew. She just wasn't ready to give it to me. Yet.

Same thing a couple of minutes later, and this time I brushed my fingers along the top of her breast and across her nipple. She shuddered, and put her head against my chest again. I kissed the top of her head and whispered, "So beautiful. Perfect."

She hugged my chest with her right hand, and I slid my hand down her arm, pulling her into me. This was no longer just a Mother and Son innocently snuggling on the couch during a movie. This was lovers. I don't know what she was thinking, but there was no doubt in my mind. I moved my hand from her arm, reached down, and cupped her right breast in my hand. The nipple was as hard as a little rock, and I gently rubbed it with the palm of my hand.

She looked up at me, her eyes half-lidded in such a way that I could see the lust in them, and said, "Kiss me."

"Kiss me." Are those the most beautiful words I ever heard? I bent down and gently kissed her lips, flicking my tongue against her pouting lower lip. Her mouth was slightly open, and I teased her with my tongue. This time, she responded, tentatively at first and then with increasing passion.

This was it. This was the Rubicon. Crossing it would mean never being able to go back. She had made a decision, that was obvious. She was acknowledging that she knew what I wanted, and at least in some measure, she was acknowledging she wanted the same thing.

We kissed deeply and lovingly. I kept my hand on her breast, working it for all I was worth. I pinched her nipple between my thumb and finger, kind of rolling it and pulling it, and she moaned in my mouth.

She pulled away. "I don't want you to be disappointed, Honey."

I had to think about that. What was she saying? Was she saying I couldn't have what I wanted, and I would be disappointed I didn't get it? Was she saying she was afraid I would be disappointed if I did get it? What was she saying? How should I respond?

"Mom, just love me and let me love you. That will never disappoint me."

She sighed, and kissed me again. I guess I had said the right thing.

I tried to get my hand under her tee shirt, and she wouldn't let me. She let me hold her breasts and play with them, but outside her shirt. "He's right upstairs."

That made sense to me, and I didn't push it. How would it look if Dad had come downstairs for something and found his wife with her son's mouth on her tits?

The next weekend I went home again. Mom met me at the door and we kissed, and I slid my hands down to rest on her butt. Mom has many gifts, but that butt of hers has always been her strongest feature. I loved having my hands on it. She acted like it was no big deal. I don't know what I was expecting. Did I think that once I had my hands on her butt and her tits, that she was going to say, "Fuck me, Bill! Fuck me with that huge dick." If that's what I expected, I didn't get it. She acted like what we were sharing was not that big a deal, and might or might not lead to anything more. It was driving me crazy.

At supper, Mom made an announcement, and it took my breath away.

"Sarah called me this week and wants to have a family hike out at the trailhead. She wants to camp and do the twelve-mile loop the next day, then come back Sunday. You guys up for it?"

Hell, yes. Of course I was up for it. I held my breath, waiting for what Dad would say. He and Mom enjoyed hiking, but he was getting older and didn't have the endurance he once had.

"Sure, Honey," he said. "If that's what you want to do, that's fine. I'll take a few hours off and we can leave Friday."

"Great, Mom," I said, and I could tell by the look on her face she knew how disappointed I was.

That night, again snuggling on the couch, Mom said, "Honey, don't worry. I'm betting your Dad comes up with some excuse between now and Friday." My heart leapt. She knew I wanted her alone. She seemed to want it, too. I could only hope.

On Thursday, Mom texted me. "Dad said he has a project crashing, so he can't get off early Friday and may even have to go in on Saturday. He told us to go ahead."

I could barely control myself. I didn't text what I really wanted to, because I didn't want all of Cupertino to know what was going on, so I just replied, "Great. We'll have fun."

I took off early Friday and by the time I got home Jim and Sarah were already at Mom's waiting for me. We shifted my gear to their car. Jim drove, and Carol got in the front seat with him, leaving Mom and me to the back seat. As soon as we got on the road, Mom texted Dad,