A Mother's Second Chance

A Mother's Second Chance: The Most Innocent of Seductions

Gail wasn't alone. It was impossible, of course, but still she knew it to be the truth. No matter how unfeasible it may have seemed-- she... was... not... alone.

It took a whole year to get to this point, but when it finally arrived Gail was left breathless with pent up anticipation. Deep down inside, she understood his presence still lingered throughout the house, watching, waiting, and now, maybe, just maybe, her long, lonely wait was over.

It was nearly eleven pm, exactly one year after the tragic accident which took her son's life on, of all days, his birthday..

What really troubled Gail was the stark realization his accident, his death, could have been easily avoided--if only she would have been a bit braver that evening.

Gail, alone in her bedroom, alone in the big house, alone in her sad life, was in the process of getting undressed when she heard the distinct sound of her bedroom's closet door being opened slowly.

She paused halfway through pulling her sweater up. She let it drop back down, before turning to stare across her spacious bedroom at the closet door. Although she could see no one, she perceived someone was there. If only to reaffirm this feeling, there seemed to come from the closet a small creaking noise-- as if someone, just inside the door, standing there, shifted their weight.

Of course, the house was old and prone to a whole array of weird noises. Gail knew this, yet still, she felt sure of being watched.

Gail stood still while silently weighing her options. Part of her wanted to rush across the bedroom, fling the closet door open, exposing who, or what, might be there. She quickly dismissed this option as being overly aggressive. Instead, she started across the bedroom, heading toward her bathroom, deciding to get undressed there in perceived safety.

She progressed no more than a few feet when she heard the closet door creak louder this time; like when it was being opened fully.

Turning, she looked across the dimly lit room having just enough time to observe a dark figure standing in the entrance to her closet, but before she could make out anything further, the bedroom was plunged into total darkness when, simultaneously, both lamps on the nightstands flanking her bed went out.

She stood there, her breath coming in shallow gasps, knowing for sure now she was not alone, leaving her scared, yet not sacred, both feelings seemingly joined at the hip. She counted to ten slowly in an effort to calm her jangled nerves, and to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. After reaching ten, with the bedroom remaining eerily quiet, she moved cautiously toward the nearer of the two nightstands.

About a month ago, she had taken the precaution of placing a variety of candles on both nightstands, along with matches, ready to be lit at a moment's notice. The lights in the old house had been--unstable-- for quite some time now. She suspected, especially when the electrician could find nothing wrong, it was him messing with the lights.

She tried clicking on the lamp. Nothing. She straightened up, thinking she heard a noise behind her. Total silence. It seemed to stretch out forever-- as she stood still waiting, and hoping in the darkness.

"William... is that you?" she asked quietly.

After what seemed like forever a quiet voice answered. "Only one." The voice was too soft for her to identify-- with absolute certainty-- but it surely sounded like her William.

"Only one," she repeated softly to herself, before understanding what it meant. Turning to the nightstand, she picked up the matches and lit one of the white tapered candles in its glass candle holder.

Gail, desperate for deeper and more meaningful contact, previously decided, on this anniversary night, if he did try to make contact with her, to be utterly fearless--unlike one year ago.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the sound of footsteps crossing the room toward her before stopping a few feet away. Gail listened carefully. She could hear the sound of breathing by the foot of the bed. There was a small thud; something landed on the bed.

Turning toward the bed, she could see it was her white satin robe, folded neatly in a square.

His voice came floating to her, loud enough this time to identify, from somewhere across the dark bedroom. It was him! He was standing back, far enough away from the small pool of light cast by the candle where he was nothing more than an indistinct figure to her. Despite not being able to see him clearly, it was him. She knew it. He had returned--but to what purpose?

"Bathroom, put it on and nothing more." His voice was clear and concise.

"I--"

Cutting her off he snapped, "No questions, Mother, or I shall disappear for good this time."

She started to open her mouth, to question him further, despite his dire warning, but as she strained to make out his features he seemed to be fading.

Snapping her mouth shut, she picked up the robe and headed to the bathroom. It was the same robe she wore the night he died.

Just as she reached the doorway, she turned. "Nothing else, William?"

"Nothing else. Take your time. Things to prepare. Will knock when time."

"OK," she said before disappearing inside the bathroom.

Inside, she took her time stripping off her clothes, mulling over how impossible it was she just had a real conversation with her dead son, but yet, she did. Deciding it might not be very wise to over think things too much, Gail let the matter of what was possible, and what was not possible, drop. She would just accept things as they came.

After slipping the robe over her naked body, she moved closer to the bathroom door, straining to hear what he was up to out there. She could hear a bit of indistinct movement, but nothing more.

Sighing, she moved away from the door. Turning to the mirror, she looked at herself, before deciding a bit of makeup couldn't hurt.

As Gail slowly applied her makeup, her mind wandered back to that fateful evening, one year ago to the day. Gail and her son William were celebrating his birthday by spending the day together. They played tennis at the club in the afternoon, then followed that up by going shopping, before returning home to enjoy a quiet dinner.

After a dinner, where they both consumed copious amount of wine, at her insistence, and in honor of his birthday, they shared an intimate slow dance. After the dance, they retired to the living room to snuggle under a quilt, while watching a movie on this unusually cold and stormy early May evening.

After the movie, she fell asleep for a bit before waking up to find him curled up asleep next to her. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and when he didn't wake up, she slipped off the sofa and quietly made her way upstairs.

Up in her bedroom, she quickly changed out of her nice clothes and into her usual sleeping attire: her favorite blush colored front closure leisure bra and a pair of simple matching boy short panties. Slipping on her satin robe, she hurried back downstairs to her son.

William was just sitting up rubbing his eyes, when she came hurrying into the room. A short conversation, in which she complained about her back being sore from their earlier tennis match, led to her being stretched out on the sofa receiving a harmless little back rub.

Shortly after the massage started, she innocently complained about her robe being in the way, and would he mind very much if she took it off. Of course, he mumbled his compliance.

After the massage was over, feeling relaxed and carefree from both the wine and his backrub, she hesitated putting her robe back on as she was liking the way his eyes kept flickering down to her chest. And why shouldn't they, as, after all, Gail did possess a pair of nice 36 inch, D cup tits.

She could only assume he was rather captivated by how she looked in her bra... otherwise why the constant side long glances at her chest. The feeling, instead of making her uncomfortable, only gave her the confidence to keep showing off for him.

The raw sexual tension continued to grow between them as they sat side by side on the sofa, making small talk, with Gail nonchalantly sitting there in her underwear. By the nervous way he was fidgeting, she could tell her son was curious about why she wasn't putting her robe back on.

Since she could not tell him the truth--she was enjoying showing off for him--she chose to simply comment on how she didn't need to put her robe back, since it was late and they would be going up to bed shortly anyways. And besides that, she added how the wine she drank earlier in the night left her feeling a bit warm.

The final act of the night's drama commenced when she reminded him it was almost midnight and she was yet to give him his traditional happy birthday kisses.

Their kisses, sweet and innocent at first, soon turned serious, with their lips lingering on each other's. Her growing apprehension, tinged as it was with untold excitement from their not so innocent little kissing session, only grew stronger when she felt one of his hands-- ever so slowly-- sliding across her bare tummy, and upwards-- as they continued to exchange kisses. Was he planning on trying to feel her up? Sadly, she would never know as she simply became unnerved, hopping to her feet in an abrupt change of moods.

Thinking he had pushed things way too far, William, thoroughly embarrassed, hurried off upstairs to his room--without telling her he loved her, as he always did, every night without fail, before bedtime.

Gail was ashamed of letting things go so far. She knew she should have went after him, talked to him, but instead she let him go. Less than five minutes later, she was in the kitchen, finishing cleaning up, when she heard their cat, Felix, let out a loud yowl, followed quickly by William cursing, equally loud, and then a series of loud thumps, all coming from the stairs.

Gail rushed over to find William lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. He never regained conscious, dying sometime during the ambulance ride to the hospital. They listed his death as officially being 11:02 p.m. on May 11. He was nineteen years old.

Gail wanted to blame Felix but was it truly his fault? They both knew Felix liked to stretch out on the stairs, especially toward the top it seemed, and she had cautioned him about coming down the dark stairs at night, lest he trip over the cat, and break his neck falling down the stairs. Sadly, that is exactly what happened.

Not being able to hold the cat responsible for her son's tragic death only left one person to blame: herself. It was always in the back of her mind. What if she would not have broken their kisses off: Would he still be alive? The memory haunted her.

A quiet knock on the door made her jump. It was show time apparently. Sighing deeply, she turned to the bathroom door before hesitating. Did she really have to go out there and face him? A big part of her, of course, desperately wanted to, but there was a smaller part of her advising extreme caution. It was this smaller part of her that caused the hesitation.

As she stood there, silently debating about leaving the safety of the bathroom, suddenly the light in the bathroom went out. Fumbling around the wall, Gail found the switch and flipped it--nothing.

Another knock on the door, louder this time, made her jump again. She didn't care much for the dark, in fact, she still slept with a night light on. Apparently, she would have to exit the perceived security of the bathroom as standing there in the dark was not a desirable option.

Gail slowly cracked the door open, peeking outside. The bedroom was dark. Slowly she stepped out of the bathroom, meaning to make a bee line toward her nightstand to try turning on the lamp there, or if the lamp was not working, light some candles.

She just got a few feet toward the nearest nightstand when, from across the bedroom, a good twelve to fifteen feet away maybe, five small tea candles flared to life. They were sitting in a rough circle on the floor.

Gail cautiously approached the candles trying to still her fluttering heart. William knew his mom had a bit of a candle fetish and apparently this was something he remembered--even in death.

There was something inside the flaming circle. Bending over, Gail peered at what was sitting inside that rough circle of light: One of her nice champagne flutes, filled to the brim.

Gail bent over, picking up the flute. Bringing it to her nose, she sniffed. Champagne. "I imagine I am expected to drink this," she whispered to herself.

She wavered. Champagne tended to make her as randy as a bobcat in heat. Plus, did she really want to add alcohol to the mix on what was turning out to be a rather serious encounter with the ghostly spirit of her son?

Only a few seconds passed with her holding the flute of champagne aloft, still trying to decide if she should drink the champagne when, simultaneously all five of the candles went out.

She resisted a smile as she brought the flute to her lips. He knew her weakness, being in the dark, and just like in the bathroom was using it to his advantage to steer her in the direction he wanted her to go.

Gail tipped the flute back draining the contents in three quick swallows. Not surprisingly, she was rewarded when a fresh set of candles, arranged in a small circle like the first set, flared to life over by the closet.

As she approached this new set of five candles, she spied another flute of what she could only assume to be more champagne sitting inside the flaming circle.

Stopping in front of the circle, she let out a shaky breath. There was something a bit more ominous placed neatly alongside the flute. After gulping down the flute full of champagne-- apparently he wanted her a bit tipsy, just like one year ago-- she turned her attention to the other items sitting there.

Folded neatly in half was her former favorite: the blush colored front closure leisure bra. Under the bra was her pair of matching boy short panties. Seeing the bra and panties sitting there was more than a bit surprising as directly after the accident, Gail considered throwing both the bra and the panties away, but in the end decided to keep them as a symbolic tribute to his memory, but without ever wearing them again. Well, apparently her plans were about to change.

Gail again hesitated while weighing her options. Once again, the candles began to wink out, one by one, causing her to throw caution to the wind. Complying with his wishes, she quickly slipped both the bra and panties on under her robe.

Just like before, she was left in the dark only momentarily as a fresh set of candles flickered to life --this time over by her dresser. As Gail started to cross the bedroom, her palms became sweaty with anticipation. Things were definitely trending in a naughty direction.

Her pulse quickened as she saw the shoes laying in the middle of the circle of candles... next to another glass of champagne.

"Oh my God," Gail whispered. The shoes were the exact ones she wore during their dinner one year ago. She remembered now how he had told her, more than once, how sexy she looked in her new shoes.

Gail bought the shoes, a pair of classy looking, silver round-toed pumps, with four inch stiletto heels, just for him, just for his birthday, mainly because whenever she wore a nice pair of sexy heels he never failed to compliment her. And just like the bra and panties, her heels were designated to be never worn again, suffering the same fate after she buried them deep in her closet.

Before she could lose her nerve, Gail picked up the flute of champagne, along with the shoes, and headed over to the nearby bed. She first drained half the glass of champagne, before plopping down on the bed to put on the shoes.

After getting them on, she stood up and finished off the balance of her champagne. The shoes, combined with the three full glasses of champagne, along with the underwear she was now wearing, all left Gail feeling both sexy and alive for the first time, well, since his death. It was a good feeling, and one she would not relish giving up so easily.

Gail, at the age of thirty four, she had William when she was only a teenager, still possessed much of her youthful beauty. She could have been the poster child for the pretty young high school cheerleader/prom queen, turned attractive thirty something year old soccer mom.

Actually such a description would have been wholly accurate as Gail had been a cheerleader, along with being prom queen, and William did play soccer the whole time growing up.

Her youthful looking skin, perfect and glowing, was accented by a shoulder length tumble of golden blonde hair she often kept pinned up in a pretty bun behind her ear--just the way William liked it--but it was those dew pond round eyes, an effervescent champagne brown which always gave poor William fits as he would simply find himself lost in their beauty.

It was all this attributes, combined with a still shapely body, honed by-- in an effort to just get her out of the house and do something positive since his death--a four times a week workout regimen at the gym which left Gail still looking fine in her mid-thirties.

Gail leaned against the tall dresser to steady herself... waiting for whatever might happen next. Thankfully, the last group of five candles stayed lit.

A good minute or two passed with nothing happening. The bedroom, much to her chagrin, remained deathly silent. Finally, after what seemed forever, there came a low creaking noise from across the room.

Gail turned toward the sound. The closet door, it had been almost shut, now swung halfway open. A feeling of being watched came over her once more.

Still, she just stood there, holding her breath. Her mind was whirling. Is he waiting for me to do something? Another quiet minute passed. She still sensed someone was watching her, but if so, what were they waiting for?

Then it hit her--she was expected to take off her robe. Maybe he was trying to replicate things from last year when she was lounging around in only her bra and panties after their massage.

It was probably the champagne which allowed Gail to have the courage to slowly, after turning to the closet so she was facing it fully, start to untie the robe. The closet door creaked open a bit more after she got the knot holding her white satin robe undone.

Taking a deep breath, cognizant of being observed more than ever, Gail leisurely stripped the robe off her body, letting it flutter unceremoniously to the floor.

She stood there, peering into the dark shadows of the closet, the door was now almost fully open, thinking she could just make out an indistinct figure standing there.

Another whole minute passed before Gail, thinking maybe he was waiting for her to take charge, after all she was the mom, took some decisive action.

"William, I can see you standing there, inside the closet looking at me. Come on out honey and communicate with your mother."

There was no response, even after she slowly counted to ten, in yet another effort to calm her nerves.

Gail was starting to get scared. "W-who's there? Please tell me. Do you wish to speak to me? If it's you William, show me something, anything, p-please some... some kind of sign."

Then a voice came floating across the dimly lit bedroom. Gail let out a sigh of pent up relief as the voice, strong and masculine, but clearly his, announced, "Turn around... away from the closet. Face the dresser. I will come to you."

Gail vacillated, not wanting to obey right away. She wanted to ask questions or maybe even to dash across the room and try to hug him.

Her hesitation was met with darkness as all five of the nearby candles flared out at the exact same moment. The room, to her dismay, was plunged into total darkness.