At Play On the Sand with Mom

Half an hour later, he emptied himself inside her. He thought he heard mom sob once, and then she lay still. He pulled out, rolled off her to her side, cradled her, and fell asleep.

x x x

In the morning Adam woke to find himself alone in his bed. Had it been a dream?

It wasn't. A thin crust coated his cock. Adam rubbed his hand over it and brought it to his nose. The scent of cunt was unmistakable.

Sounds came from the kitchen. His mom was up. Adam dressed and left his room.

"Good morning, mom," he said.

"Good morning, Adam."

She walked over to him and rested her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the lips -- just a whisper of a kiss. She pulled away and turned back to cooking breakfast.

There was something in the air, Adam thought. It wasn't just the contrast of his mom's aloofness with the ardor she'd shown him the day before. It was something else. Adam nodded. He felt his dad in the house. Sadness overtook him, because he knew they wouldn't come back. He wouldn't feel that presence again.

Adam and Mara didn't talk much during breakfast. Mara said something about wanting to get an early start to head home. Adam looked out the big window facing the ocean. All he saw was fog.

An hour later the kitchen was cleaned and the house picked up and the bags packed, bunched by the front door. Adam and Mara stood by the window, looking out at the fog, still thick and obscuring the ocean. She took his hand and squeezed it and turned to him.

"I love you, Adam."

"I love you too, mom."

She let go and walked to the door and Adam followed, wondering what, if anything, might happen when they left the house. He had no idea. He couldn't read his mom.

They walked out of the house, and mom locked the door. The hauled their bags to the car and put them in the trunk. Adam opened mom's passenger side door. She got in and Adam closed the door behind her. Adam rounded the car and took his seat and started the ignition. He looked at the house, a house he'd seen every summer for 14 years. He didn't think he would see it again.

He backed the car out of the driveway. The fog was so thick he could see it shrouding the house already as the car moved away from it to the street.

Goodbye, dad, Adam thought, as the car moved backward.

He turned his attention from the driveway for a moment to look at his mom. He saw her in the passenger seat, in profile, her face soft and pretty, her body firm and curvy.

Adam turned the car into the street and stopped to look at the house one last time. Mom and Adam looked at it and they looked at each other. Adam didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew he was leaving something behind and it had to do with his dad and it might be forever. He imagined the face of his dad, laughing, loving his mom, loving him, at play in the beach house.

Adam drove away, and he looked in the rear-view mirror and the house faded, enveloped by the summer fog. He mouthed words softly, so his mother couldn't hear him.

Goodbye, goodbye.