A Mother's Second Chance

Once more, there was a long drawn out moment of silence, as Gail stood there shivering, still waiting for something, anything, to happen. Finally, lacking any other better options, she finally turned around to face the dresser.

After a brief moment of silence, she could--just barely--make out the sound of someone crossing the bedroom toward her. Then came a whispered voice in her ear.

"Your shivering, Mom."

He was behind her, very close, she could feel his breath tickling her neck, could smell a faint whiff of his cologne--it was the same cologne she gave him as a birthday gift, the same cologne he was wearing during their little impromptu make out session, one year ago.

She was about to turn around when he spoke up again, a bit louder and more forceful this time, "Don't turn around, you wouldn't be able to see me anyways... not in the dark, not if I don't want you to."

She heard the quiet clink of something being placed down on the top of the dresser. "Just one more. Drink it quickly... and then you should be just relaxed enough to... make things up to me."

When he didn't say anything more she replied, "But honey I... I already had three glasses full. Yeah, I have had enough already," she protested. "And it's dark. I think it is you making the candles go out and won't let the lights come on. Can't you please let me have a little light and then I can start making things up to you."

"Drink, and then you shall have light."

"OK, OK," she said, picking up the flute of champagne. Wanting the light desperately, Gail downed half the glass before pausing.

She felt the glass being pushed back to her lips. "Quickly. I think you will be fun to play with when you are drunk."

"Sure I will be," she whispered before polishing off the champagne. The buzz hit her now, hard, as she stood swaying on her feet.

She sat the empty flute back down on the dresser before whispering, "Please honey, you promised... the lights?"

"OK... close your eyes and when I tell you in a minute to open them you shall have your light."

She obeyed as she felt a hand wrapping itself around her wrist. The hand, his hand, it was solid yet, not so much. It was like being touched by a solid puff of wind... or something like that. Whatever the case, the hand was strong enough, impelling enough, to led her silently across the bedroom. Being a bit tipsy from the champagne, no, make that a whole lot tipsy, and with her eyes shut, Gail had no real idea of where she was being taken.

Maybe to my bed!! The thought caused a flash of pure unbidden desire to wash over her, but it was soon replaced by an equal flash of disappointment when she found herself being sat down on the wide cushioned bench in front of her vanity table.

There was a moment of utter silence, was he still there, after she got settled. Then from directly behind her came his voice, once again soft and commanding. "You can open your eyes now, Mother."

Gail's eyes fluttered open to the welcoming sight of a trio of flaming pillar candles spaced neatly apart sitting on her vanity table. Her sigh of relief at having some friendly light was quickly replaced by a sharp cry of sheer surprise. Standing behind her was her son!

She could see his image, not spectral in the least, but clear as anything, in the vanity table's large mirror. Their eyes met in the mirror. Christ, he looked gorgeous standing there-- glowing with youthful handsomeness.

He was wearing the same pair of tight, battered Levi's he wore that night, along with the same nice light blue button up dress shirt. His dark hair was still long, hanging almost to his shoulders in the back, and appeared to be a bit disheveled--yeah, just the way she liked it. On his face was what, a smile, a smirk, a look of bemusement maybe.

He started to speak, saying, "Don't bother turning around--"

He might as well have told her, "Don't bother to breath," as she whipped her head around. She just couldn't help herself.

He was gone. As gone as completely and utterly as if he was never there. Except, he was there! She could still smell his cologne, could still sense his presence.

Then as confirmation he spoke. "You can't see me, Mother, not directly, anyways. Look in the mirror again."

Gail turned her head back around, her eyes flickering to the mirror immediately. He was there, this time with a most definitive smirk on his handsome face.

She watched, spellbound, as he lowered his mouth to her ear, "Don't be scared," he intoned to her softly.

After taking a quick moment to steel her nerves, she replied, "I'm not scared... honey. Why would I be?"

"No reason," he whispered as straightened back up. "I only came back to claim what is rightfully mine."

Trying to sound braver than she felt, Gail answered back, "And what is that sweetheart?"

"Just you," he said. She watched as he brought his hands up, before letting them rest of her shoulders. "Just this."

He began to softly knead her shoulders, causing Gail to let out a gentle sigh. His hands, they weren't cold or clammy in the least. Instead, they felt warm and a bit rough... in other words, perfectly alive and masculine.

She sat there, barely willing to breathe, let alone move, as she felt him work his hands back and forth across her shoulders once, and then a second time.

"Feel good, Mom?" he whispered as he started to knead the muscles at the base of her neck.

"Hmm, yes... yes it does, William" she said, leaning back and closing her eyes. When she leaned her head back against his midsection, it was solid, yet malleable all at once. It was almost like his body had a soft pillowy feeling to it.

After she let out another long sigh, she opened her eyes. He was staring at her with an expectant look on his face. Even in death, she could read her son like an open book. She knew that look well--he wanted something.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his in the mirror. "What do you want from me, honey?"

After a brief pause, his hands were now stroking her hair, he answered quietly, "It's not what I want, but what I need."

"OK what do you need?"

Once again, she watched as he lowered his mouth to her ear. His voice was low and pitiful as he whispered, "Death is cold and lonely. I need your warmth, your love. Please, can you give that to me, Mommy? Pretty please."

Maybe it was the absolute pity in his voice, maybe it was because of the sweet way he called her "Mommy", but whatever it was, it worked as Gail gave in completely.

"Yes, of course sweetie," she quickly replied as her heart thundered in her chest caused by the mere implications of what this could mean. She took a deep breath, trying to still her heart, before adding, "And just how do you want Mommy to give her baby such warmth and such love."

"Like this," he replied softly before slipping one finger, she watched the image of it in the mirror, under her chin. Using just enough force, he tilted her face up to him as he whispered, "Close your eyes."

She obeyed, closing her eyes, mere seconds before their lips came together. Their kisses, sweet and innocent at first, soon turned serious when she felt his tongue slip into her mouth.

Despite how good it felt, Gail stiffened, and then pulled back at feeling his tongue roaming around inside her mouth.

"Please, Mommy, kissing is warm, kissing is love... need more... want more."

He tried to kiss her again, but Gail was scared. If she would not have broken his wicked kiss off when she did, she wasn't so sure she could have stopped... at all.

When he attempted another kiss, she twisted her mouth away. This latest attempt denied, he instead attacked her neck with a series of impassioned kisses, leaving her squirming all over the vanity's wide bench, before she was able to twist away just enough to break contact.

She looked up in the mirror now, meaning to what... chastise him for his amorous behavior, but when she observed his reflection in the mirror, first wavering, and then starting to disappear, any idea of reprimanding him left her mind.

"Please Mommy, don't let me go. It's dark there and cold... please hold me, cuddle me."

She reached out behind her, slinking an arm around his midsection--it was cold now--and more yielding than ever.

He was disappearing! She understood this in her heart of hearts: If he was to dematerialize now he wouldn't be returning; somehow she just knew this.

Gail was edging toward a full blown panic; she could see through his image. She tried to grip him tighter whispering, "Yes, let me cuddle you, and warm you up. Mommy will protect you from the dark, honey. Sit down here behind me and snuggle up close to me."

She patted the vanity bench behind her as she scooted forward to the very front edge so he would have room to sit. She let out a small sigh of relief when she both saw-- and felt-- his still wavering image, it had a more defined aspect to it now, sit down behind her.

She heard his whispered plea, "Need Mommy's warm kisses," and gave in. Totally. Turning her face, she closed her eyes and felt his cold lips press against hers.

They kissed, his icy tongue dipping and swirling into her warm mouth. This time she would try harder to deny him nothing, but when she felt the chilly touch of his fingers floating across her tummy, and up toward her breasts, her natural defense mechanisms kicked in.

She jumped to her feet, breaking off their kiss while brushing at the vague outline of his hands. She half cried, half whispered, "No honey that is going too far."

"Please, Mommy, pretty please." Glancing at the mirror she observed how his outline was fading, leaving scarcely anything of him but a small sparkle where his eyes would be.

Gail sank back down on the bench, finally resigning herself to her fate. Basically, she suspected to deny him now would mean he would be gone forever.

"OK" she whispered, "You can... I mean... I... I won't stop you."

To further amplify her point she clasped her hands behind her back while thrusting her chest out toward the mirror in a most inviting manner.

Her eyes were riveted to the mirror as she watched a pair of nebulous hands slip up and around her mid-section. Not surprisingly, they were rising to converge on her breasts.

Pulling her eyes off the mirror, she gazed down at her bra only to see her breasts being squeezed and fondled by unseen hands. Yes, amazingly enough, it was true; although she couldn't see his hands, since she wasn't looking in the mirror, she could clearly observe the outline of his fingertips pushing in on her bra.

It was wild, watching her tits being manipulated so firmly by these naughty invisible hands.

"Better?" she whispered, glancing up to look at his image in the mirror. It was much more defined than before.

"It would be better still," his voice whispered in her ear, "if your bra wasn't in the way, Mother. Can I take it off or shall you deny me again?"

After a moment's hesitation, she whispered back, "No, no, no, I don't deny you anything sweetie... you can take your mom's bra off."

Her bra closed in the front, secured by a row of five clasps, and as Gail anxiously peered in the mirror, she observed a pair of misty fingers wrapping themselves around the top clasp.

Slowly the clasp came undone before the vaporous strands of his fingers slipped down to the next clasp. Just like the first clasp, the second one came undone in a leisurely fashion... and then the third, fourth and fifth.

By the end Gail was looking down at her chest directly watching with amazement as her bra seemingly was coming undone by itself.

When the bra finally parted, revealing her sizable breasts to the tender mercies of those ethereal, vaporous fingers, Gail let out a soft sigh. The fingers, gentle and playful, began by twisting their tendrils around each of her nipples making them snap to attention in a most delightful fashion.

Gail, her eyes fixed on the mirror so she could observe what was happening, was amazed at how good his misty fingers felt. Blessed with a pair of extremely sensitive nipples, she was soon sighing contentedly while his nebulous hands spread its fingers all over her tits wrapping them in a cloak of delightful pleasure.

Tearing her eyes off the mirror, Gail peered down directly at her chest. Although she could not see his hands, her tits were clearly being squeezed and fondled.

She watched a few seconds more, simply amazed this could be happening, before she felt a gentle hand turn her face back. They kissed with no pretense of innocence this time as their tongues slipped in and out of each other mouths.

He pulled back slightly, whispering in between kisses, "Still cold. Need the warmth of my mom's breasts... in my mouth."

"Honey, I..." She started to tell him no. It was an automatic response but before she could get the words out his kisses were already slipping down and off her mouth and onto her neck.

She glanced up at the mirror; he appeared much more solid now as he implored her to give in. "Please Mom, pretty please let me taste their warmth. Do not deny me yet again."

Using the mirror as a guide, she slipped one hand around his head, she could actually feel the soft texture of his long hair, helping to push him further down.

"I deny you nothing baby. Go on you can..." She paused, taking a deep breath, before utterly abandoning herself to him. "You can suck on your mom's tits."

He began by showering her chest with dozens of light kisses before whispering, "Promise... say it again aloud... say I can... anytime I want... anywhere I want."

"Yes, baby, anytime, anywhere, you can suck on my tits. I promise."

Fully prepared to honor her promise, Gail twisted around to face him, allowing full access to her breasts.

She took one last look at the mirror, he appeared to be fully formed now as his mouth hovered mere inches from the first of her lovely breasts.

She closed her eyes, knowing she was being so very naughty... and not caring.

"Oh God," Gail whispered as she felt her tits being suckled on with a tenderness that absolutely turned her on. Her hand slipped down, cradling him against her chest. His tongue lashed out, attacking her fully erect nipples with a reckless abandon, causing her to let out a low hiss.

With her eyes still shut tight, Gail felt herself being carefully pushed backwards onto the vanity bench as the gentle rain of kisses all over her tits continued.

She let out another pronounced sigh as her breasts were being so sweetly suckled on, each in turn, by the ethereal image of her ghostly son. The whole thing was unbelievable in itself, and so very naughty, but yet, Gail was fucking wetter than ever down there.

"Open your eyes, Mother. I want to show you something."

Her eyes flickered open. He was standing up now, between the table and the bench. He was growing lighter--more transparent that is-- as he whispered, "Just watch."

Gail watched as he son's body slowly became noticeably less solid. Before her very eyes he seemed to be turning into a luminous mist. She could still see the outline of his body, but yet inside this tenuous outline he was slowly disappearing before her very eyes.

"Please honey... don't leave me," she whispered. "Please stay." Yes, she needed him, now more than ever, especially since the soft attentions he quietly paid to her breasts had completely and totally set her pussy on fire with a burning desire to be satisfied.

Spellbound, Gail watched the mist, shaped in the loose image of a body, begin to glow and pulsate as it floated just next to her.

"Use a finger," an otherworldly voice said to her.

"To do what?" Gail answered quietly. Despite answering, she could barely acknowledge this voice coming from the mist was actually her son's.

"To pull your panties away from your body slightly."

"But wh--"

"No questions, just do it," the voice from the floating mist hissed at her.

Gail only hesitated for a brief moment before reaching down. Using one finger --as instructed-- she hooked it under the waistband of her panties and pulled them back away from her body. What happened next defied imagination.

The mist collapsed upon itself, becoming smaller and more condensed before floating down. Using the opening Gail created by pulling her boy shorts away from her body, the streamlined mist disappeared inside her panties as Gail let out a surprised gasp.

Gail looked down. She could see the front of her panties bulging outwards ever so slightly. Through her panties she could see the soft glow of the still luminous mist. It was pulsating stronger now, almost like a heart beating, and then... MY GOD... it was as if her pussy was being showered by a dozens of light kisses all at once.

The small blob of mist swirled and throbbed inside her panties. Involuntarily, Gail spread her legs wider as she collapsed back against the vanity bench. Closing her eyes, she felt what could have been dozens of tiny tongues all flickering along her clit so very gently, ruffling it like a soft summer breeze.

"Oh shit... that feels so good," Gail whispered. A pronounced moan escaped from her lips as she felt her clit being attacked eagerly by her son, yes the mist trapped inside her panties was, somehow, amazingly enough, her son.

The flickering along her clit became more explicit as she felt what very well may have been a finger being pushed up and inside of her.

She let out a low hiss as she started to bounce her hips up and down, riding this incredible otherworldly wave of pleasure.

It didn't take long. Gail was rushing headlong to a mighty climax as the misty blob worked its magic inside her boy shorts. The dozens of flickering tongues, it felt that way, worked perfectly in unison with the solid finger being pushed up inside of her propelling her to a tremendous orgasm.

"OH GOD YES... MOMMY IS COMING," Gail fairly shouted as she lost all sense of decorum while bucking wildly on the vanity bench.

When she finally opened her eyes the bedroom was quiet. The mist was gone from inside her panties. She sat up looking around. She didn't see any sign of him.

Twisting her head back around, she peered at the mirror hoping to see him that way.

Her heart jumped when she saw just the vaguest outline of him standing behind her.

There was a matter of fact whisper in her ear. "Was that good, Mother?"

"That was... wonderfully special honey. You made... you made me come so hard. You turning into a... mist I guess and doing that I mean..." She shook her head. She was still actually dazed from the sheer intensity of her orgasm.

As she sat there, gazing into the mirror at him standing behind her, his image was growing fainter.

"Honey, you are disappearing it looks like. Please... don't leave me. Not yet."

"I used all my energy giving you pleasure."

"Please... there must be something I can do."

"Turn around... t-touch me... re-restore me or I c-can never... return. The dark, the awful coldness... is taking... me." His voice was ultra-faint, barely rising to a whisper as he uttered three final words. "Must... pleasure... me." By the time he finished speaking these halting, fading words Gail was in a near panic.

Quickly she turned around, throwing her legs over the vanity bench so she was facing him. With her back to the mirror, she could not see him anymore. Reaching up, she began patting the air with both hands searching for her son.

She felt nothing for a brief moment before she reached up a bit higher, searching frantically, as she started to edge toward a full blown panic.

She found him, her fingers just grazing up against the solid smoothness of one cheek. It was a bit cold, but yes solid. He was still here!

Her fingertips slid across his check, brushing up against his ear and then his hair.

Her hands slipped down, across his chest, its bare flesh was yielding, and oh so cold. His face, his cheek, his hair, when she touched them all just mere seconds ago were not like this soft, pliable flesh of his chest, but solid.