Beyond the Borderline

I took down the information and left the notepad on the kitchen table. I was suddenly feeling terribly drained. Pausing first in the bathroom, I made my way back to bed.

Mom was still asleep, her back now turned to my former position in the bed. I carefully eased over the top of her, back to my original location, scrunched up against the wall. I knew I couldn't trust myself to lie on top of the bed next to her, so I carefully shimmied back under the sheets. As I settled back in, Mom suddenly rolled over, facing me, her eyes still closed. Mumbling in her sleep, she again burrowed her head against my chest and flung her arm over me. Sighing, I did my best to ignore the newly resurgent hardness in my PJs. Once again I could feel her warm breath flowing over me, her arm curled tightly around my torso.

The conflicting emotions I was experiencing threatened to drive me mad. I reveled in our closeness, feeling an incredible tenderness as Mom held on to me, but at the same time I was absolutely throbbing with desire, consumed by waves of guilt that I could not control myself for even one minute, especially now, when Mom needed me the most. How could I possibly be excited at this minute, with Nana and Gramps gone? "Jesus H. Christ, Rick!" I thought to myself. "Get a fucking grip! Your Mom needs you to be there for her and all you can do is get a boner!" I felt like an absolute shit.

Somehow, I fell asleep again, awakening later with a jolt from troubled dreams, as I felt Mom touching my face.

"I'm sorry, Ricky. You were moaning in your sleep. Are you okay?"

Struggling to wakefulness, I croaked, "Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. Just a bad dream. What about you?"

Mom gave me a ghost of a smile. "Thanks for sharing your bunk with me, sweetheart. I don't think I'd have gotten a wink without you."

"Anything you need, just tell me. I'm here for you, Mom."

She sighed and a tear trickled out of the corner of each eye. "You're my anchor, Ricky. You're such a good son."

I gave her a hug and kissed her forehead. "We're going to be okay. Just tell me what I can do."

"Please hold me for just a couple more minutes, sweetie."

***

That first day was pure hell. We spent half our time on our phones, which were constantly ringing. Between dealing with the Ulster County coroner's office, the funeral home and concerned friends and neighbors, we were totally exhausted by midafternoon. Then we had to pull ourselves together to go to our church to arrange the memorial service and to stop by the funeral home and wade through the painful details of the cemetery plot, headstones, caskets and flower arrangements. We agonized over the necessity of closed coffins and the knowledge of how Gramps and Nana died, and in the end decided that cremation would be best, all ironies aside. Mercifully, we were able to conclude the arrangements in a couple of hours.

By the time we returned home, it was near six o'clock. We were running on sour, empty stomachs and jittery with excess caffeine and fatigue. I made us some scrambled eggs and toast and we sat in the family room, eating mechanically, paying no attention to the insipid sounds of the TV, each lost in our own thoughts. Between my fatigue and the demands of the day, I felt as though I was wrapped in the emotional equivalent of cotton wool, everything around me seeming fuzzy and dampened. After a while, Mom snuggled under my arm and we just sat, neither of us saying much as we decompressed from the day's stresses. I enjoyed our contact, all the while praying that Mom wouldn't notice the ever-present, throbbing barometer of my love and lust, my nervous eyes constantly darting to her face to check for any recognition of my arousal.

As I sweated bullets, worrying about Mom noticing my rock hard cock, I lost all track of time. Unaccountably, our phones had finally fallen silent. Some time later, Mom sighed, got up and stretched. "I'm going to take a bath and get changed. I'm exhausted."

I nodded and forced myself to stand.

"I'll do the same."

I sat numbly on my bed, waiting for Mom to finish drawing her tub. Once I heard the water stop, I made my way to the shower and cleaned quickly, retiring again to my room. Later, I heard Mom go back downstairs and turn the TV back on.

Although I was terribly tired, between the sadness and residual coffee buzz, I was in no condition to sleep. I must have sat for a long time, unaware of time, because when I zoned back into reality, it was dark outside. I could still hear the TV downstairs. I quietly made my way down the stairs to the family room.

Mom was sitting stiffly on the sofa, staring vacantly at the TV, her cheeks wet. Looking at her, I could feel my own tears beginning again as well. At that point all I wanted to do was to hold her and comfort her, making the last 24 horrible hours disappear in my embrace.

I went to her side and took her hands, drawing her to her feet. I led her, unresisting, into my room and tucked her under the covers, scooting myself back into the corner of the bed and wall, on top of the sheets. I put and arm around her upper chest and stroked her hair.

"It's all right Mom, I'm here. Just relax and close your eyes. Let it go. Let it go."

Gradually, Mom stopped crying and after about fifteen minutes, she fell asleep. I lay next to her for a long time, once again cursing the fate that had finally brought my mother into my bed in this way. After an interminable wait, sleep finally claimed me. My recollections are of a jagged mosaic of erotic images and guilt. At one point, I dreamt that Mom was jacking me off in my bed, both of us naked. Gramps and Nana were watching from the doorway, shaking their heads with disapproval before they faded from view. At that point, I woke up.

To my shock, Mom had thrown off the covers and was spooned directly up against me. I was sporting a painfully hard erection, which was nestled directly in the cleft of her jutting buttocks. Almost as bad, my arm had somehow gotten trapped underneath her, my fingers unconsciously molding to the gentle curve of her abdomen. I could sense the warm smoothness of her skin underneath the fabric of her nightgown and the slight, sensuous movement that occurred with each breath she took.

I was jammed up directly against the wall next to my bed with nowhere to go. I knew if I moved, I'd probably wake Mom up and there would be no hiding my aroused condition. As delicious as the sensation of my cock against her silky ass was, I was terrified of the thought of Mom waking up at that moment. I was mortally certain she would kick me to the curb if she woke up with my boner poking her butt.

Mom stirred slightly in her sleep, nestling closer to me. The soft press of her ass against me was unbearable. I was tremendously excited, penis pulsating mightily. Mom snuggled in even closer, sighing contentedly, almost seeming to deliberately grind against me.

Then it happened. With almost no warning, I went over the edge. Gritting my teeth with a low grunt, I spurted in my pajama bottoms, immediately soaking myself as I throbbed and shuddered against Mom's wonderful, smooth ass. Dear God, what was I going to do? There was no way I could hide my cum-soaked groin from Mom if she woke up. I had to get up right this minute.

With a groan, I heaved myself out from behind her, simultaneously twisting and rolling over her hip to land on the floor with a loud thump. Unaccountably, as I maneuvered myself over her, I thought I saw the faintest of smiles on her face. She then appeared to awake with a start as I hit the floor next to the bed.

"Whaaa? Unh, Ricky, wasshappening?" Mom blearily inquired as I jostled her. She sounded sleepy, but strangely, her eyes were bright.

"Sorry, Mom. Gotta pee real bad," I mumbled, bolting for the door, keeping my back to her.

"Please do, Ricky. I don't want to wash any bedding today," she teased, a wan half-smile on her face.

"Thanks a lot, Mom," I groused.

After I shut myself in the bathroom, the extent of my release became apparent. The entire front of my pajama trousers was completely soaked and tacky with my semen, my groin and thighs sticky-slick with what seemed like a quart of my spending. I was confused by the way in which Mom seemed to wake up and the disconnect between how she sounded and her expression, but I was simply too sleepy to process the apparent contradictions any further.

I quickly set about cleaning myself off with a wet washcloth; shuddering at the touch of the cold, rough fabric on my cock and balls as I scrubbed off my juices. I rinsed the p.j. bottoms in the sink to obliterate the evidence of my cum. Rooting around in the hamper, I couldn't find any old shorts or underwear to put on. "Damn, they must still be in the laundry room," I thought to myself. I couldn't very well put my now-soaking pajamas back on. I had to get to the laundry room without Mom seeing me through the open doorway of my bedroom.

Carefully poking my head into the hallway, the coast appeared clear. Butt naked, I quietly padded to my doorway and peered around the doorjamb. Mom was facing the opening, but appeared to be asleep. I quickly darted across the intervening space and made my way downstairs. I found a suitable pair of shorts and a tee shirt in the dryer and then made my way back upstairs.

When I arrived back in my room, Mom was sitting up in the bed, pushing her tousled hair off her forehead. Looking at me, she truly smiled for the first time in two days.

"Did you sleep well, sweetie?"

"Uhhh, yeah Mom, not too bad," I mumbled.

"Thanks again for last night, Ricky. It seems I can't sleep unless you hold me these days. I feel safe and protected when I'm with you. It's about the only thing that feels good right now."

"It's the least I can do, Mom. I'll do whatever it takes to help us get through this."

"I love you, Ricky."

"Love you too, Mom."

"Now, if you're through prancing around the house in your all together, I'd appreciate a cup of coffee."

I blushed incandescently. Tongue-tied, I nodded once and went to the kitchen. God, I was so embarrassed, totally busted by Mom. I could only wonder if she had actually been awake when I came against her ass. Well, looking on the bright side, at least I didn't have a hard on when she saw me in the hallway.

A short while later, I returned to my room with mugs for the both of us. Mom was still sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

"Here's your coffee, Mom.

"Ahh, thank you, Ricky. Now, what's with this running down the hallway naked?"

"God, sorry about that Mom. I just wanted to put on some old shorts and a shirt, but there wasn't anything in the hamper. If there had been a way to close my door before I went by, I would have done it. I couldn't very well walk back into my bedroom naked, you know. "

"I should hope not. As much as I might like waking up to a handsome, nude young man, that wouldn't be appropriate."

"Mom!" Secretly, I was relieved but puzzled that she didn't ask about my pajama bottoms. Suddenly, I was confused and very, very anxious. Did she know she made me come in my pants? How could she not notice that I should have been wearing them down to the basement to get my clean clothes? How could she just ignore all the evidence?

"Sorry, kiddo. I'm just teasing you a little. God knows I need something to cheer me up these days." She smiled reassuringly.

"If seeing me naked is what cheers you up, then I'd say we have a problem, Mom."

"I suppose I deserved that for jerking your chain, Ricky."

"On the other hand, if that's what it takes to make you happy..." I said, standing next to her, pretending to pull my shorts down.

"Ricky! Don't you dare!" she exclaimed in shocked tones.

"Just kidding, Mom. You know I'd never..."

She let out a gusty sigh. "I know, Ricky. It's just that things are just so out of kilter, so strange; I probably shouldn't have said anything in the first place. I'm sorry."

"It's cool, Mom. Things aren't very normal right now and we're both under a lot of stress. Anyway, I guess we should get going now," I added, deliberately changing the subject. "Are you hungry at all, Mom? Can I fix you something?"

"Don't go to the trouble, sweetie. Just bring me a yogurt, that'll be fine."

"Soitenly!"

Mom smiled wanly and stood up, giving me a long hug and kissing my forehead. "You're a good man, Curly."

Not trusting myself, I hugged her back briefly and then left quickly for the kitchen, yodeling as I left. "Woop woop woop woop!"

Being a little goofy that morning definitely helped us get through the day. As for the rest of the week, the less said the better. The funeral and memorial service were about as painful an experience as you can imagine. The only solace there was the turnout. I counted over ninety people at the service. I don't think Mom let go of my hand for the entire day.

I was still in shock, unable to come to grips with the fact that Nana and Gramps were just...gone. When you're a self-absorbed, Mother-besotted teenager as I was, you tend to take a lot for granted. I never really, truly appreciated how much of my basically normal, pleasantly routine existence was the product of our extended family life together. Now, in the past few days, it all became excruciatingly clear how important my family was to me. I don't think that I had ever truly acknowledged to either Gramps or Nana how much they meant to me, and now those things that had been left unsaid between us burned at my conscience like dull, hot iron.

The night after the funeral and service, there wasn't even any discussion between us. At bedtime, Mom simply came to my room and we took our usual positions in the bed. This continued for another week. After sleep would come, I would awaken each morning to find Mom close to me, sometimes spooned against me, others with her head against my chest and on one excruciating dawn, her arm around my torso and leg thrown over my thigh, groin close to mine. On this occasion, I came as close as I ever had to yielding to my long-suppressed desires.

As she lay almost on top of me, I could feel the heat of her thigh against mine and the faint stirring of warm, moist air as she exhaled against my chest. As her chest expanded and contracted with each breath, the swell of her bosom would push against me. It seemed as though her nipples were stiffening as they brushed up against my bare pecs through the soft flannel of her pajamas and I thought I could feel them, pebble-like, as her breasts rose and fell against me.

I was so turned on by her closeness that the front of my pajama bottoms was already damp with precum, the tip of my cock practically drooling. As though viewing a surreal movie from outside myself, I saw my trembling hand tracing lightly along the smooth curve of her thigh, slipping up to the point of her hip and then sliding back to lightly, carefully cup one of her cheeks. My heart thudded and shuddered as though trying to escape from my chest like a trapped beast and my pulse roared in my ears. As I lightly squeezed her supple tautness, my other hand drifted towards my groin.

An entirely involuntary, hoarse whisper escaped my lips.

"Oh Mom," I groaned. "So beautiful..." I sighed painfully, my voice a faint, despairing whisper.

Just as I seemed powerless to stop my first tentative caress, my other hand declared independence from my fevered brain and found its way to my cock. Five alarms worth of bells were going off in my conscience, but I had already slipped beyond the confines of self-control, the dreaded, secretly longed-for point of no return looming right in front of me.

Just as I began stroking myself, Mom stirred lightly, her lips turning up into a slight smile. The spell broken, I quickly and guiltily jerked my hand away from her ass as she stretched, pulled her thigh away from me and slowly opened her eyes.

"Good morning, sweetie. You're already awake. Did you get enough sleep?" she asked dreamily. She was smiling gently, her face smooth for the first time in days, now only slightly careworn. I wanted so much to brush the hair off her forehead and kiss her

"I'm good, Mom."

"Are you sure? I've been imposing on you for quite a while now."

"You know there's no chance you could ever really 'impose' on me, Mom."

She ruffled my hair, this time more slowly and gently than usual, almost a caress. Then she bussed my cheek, catching the corner of my mouth. I'm sure that kiss wasn't intended to land where it did, but for all of its innocence, she may as well have hit me over the head with a fencepost. I held my composure with only the greatest of difficulty.

"Thanks for everything Ricky. I can't tell you how much help you've been this past week. I wouldn't have made it without you, sweetheart," she said warmly.

"I'll always be here for you, Mom. All we have now is each other."

As Mom hugged me tightly, I shuddered inwardly. How could she not sense the state of my cock? I was rampantly erect and the front of my pajamas were damp. There was no possible way Mom could fail to perceive my condition. And yet, she gave no indication as she hugged me, no sign that she was aware of my arousal.

I squeezed her back and extricated myself from her embrace. "Sorry Mom, gotta hit the head."

When I returned, Mom was already back in her bedroom. I heard the shower start up. I threw myself back on my bed with a sigh. As I rolled face down into the covers, I could still smell her in the pillow and feel the residual warmth of her body in the sheets and mattress. Breathing in deeply, I rolled on to my back again, reaching into my pants with a groan. Grabbing a bottle of lotion at my bedside, I stroked myself furiously, my head turned into the pillow we shared, inhaling her scent as I sought relief.

After I cleaned myself up, I laid back, staring blankly at the ceiling. As much as I loved waking up with Mom each morning, I knew it wasn't going to continue indefinitely. More to the point, after today's little excitement, I was afraid that I'd do something stupid and irreversible if Mom slept in my bunk one more time. I was perilously close to the edge this morning and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to control myself again. With a mixture of relief and aching regret, I decided that I'd have to speak with Mom about it that evening.

I got dressed and headed downstairs and made us some breakfast. Mom came down a few minutes later, dressed for work.

"Mom, I thought you had the rest of the week off?"

"I need to keep myself occupied, Ricky. I can't just sit around right now. You've been a perfect son to me these past few days, but I can't lean on you indefinitely. My work is piling up and you're going back to school in just a couple days. We need to get back into some kind of routine now."

Mom took a couple of bites of the toast I made and drained her coffee in three long gulps. She gave me a long, fierce hug and kissed me on both cheeks.

"I'm going to be okay, Ricky, mostly because of you. You've turned into a fine young man and I'm very proud of you, you know."

"Thanks, Mom."

"I'll see you at supper time, hotshot." She took my hand gave it a strong squeeze. "I'm going to be okay, Ricky. I mean it. Things are going to be fine. I'm going to be sad for a while, but I know my wonderful son is there for me when I need him."

With that, she hugged me once more and then, to my surprise, gave me a quick peck on the lips just before sweeping out the door.

I stood there getting linoleum burns on my chin for a couple of seconds before I got my brain back in gear. I dashed towards the garage but something made me stop in the darkened doorway. I could see Mom inside her car, leaning forward. Both hands gripped the steering wheel and her forehead rested against its top. She stayed in that position for a couple of moments and then slowly raised her, head, tilting the rearview mirror to look at herself. She appeared to stare at her reflection, unblinking for about ten or fifteen seconds and then shook her head with a small smile and then turning, backed out of the garage. I didn't see her again until after six.