First Year After Ch. 02

Disclaimer: All sexual acts involve adults, over the age of 18, and involve mother/son incest (in case you wound up here by accident). I hope you enjoy.

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January 19th, 2013

For the memorial service, Mom wore a plain black dress, black hose and black shoes, with a little black hat on top to cover the bun she'd arranged her hair into, that I didn't even know she owned. Patti wore the grey sweater I'd gotten her for Christmas, and a black skirt, over black shoes, and simply had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Neither wore much makeup, realizing that what tears do to mascara is never pretty. They were still gorgeous in my eyes, though. It bothered me a little that I was feeling horny on what was going to be a sad day, but Mom moaning my name the night before was still replaying itself in my head.

Because of the extra costs, Mom had decided not to have a viewing of Dad's body during the memorial, and he had actually been cremated 4 days before. Various family members were allowed into the mortuary prior to this for a short viewing, but since nothing had been done in terms of embalming and makeup and so forth, his body was cold and looked blotchy, and I heard several people regretted seeing him that way. I didn't attend, since I'd seen his body the day he died, and that was enough for me. His urn sat at the front of the mortuary chapel on a small stand where the coffin would normally have been, next to a portrait of him the mortuary had produced.

In place of the viewing of the body, Mom had prepared some posterboards, with montages of different photos of Dad from over the years, and people walked among those, as they were set up on easels. Mom wanted people to see and remember Dad healthy. I even got a chance to look through them, many of them pictures that had sat in photo albums for years, others more recent prints from cell-phone and digital camera shots. Mom had done a great job. There must have been a dozen people who commented to me that I looked just like my Dad did when he was younger. Even looking at pictures of him at that age, I couldn't see it, but thanked them anyway. Dad had curly brown hair, mine was curly blonde, I was taller than him, I didn't think our faces looked similar. I just don't see it.

I lost count of how many hugs and handshakes I received, from people who knew Dad or Mom but who barely knew me or didn't know me at all. I know they meant well, but it just felt obligatory, rather than comforting. Patti stayed by my side, and I'd introduce her to those people whose names I knew, but many were just strangers to me, making an introduction rather awkward. I was amazed at how full the chapel at the mortuary was. Dad was loved and friends with many people.

We aren't particularly religious people, thinking of ourselves as spiritual instead, so it was the coordinator for the mortuary who gave the primary eulogy, based on interviews he'd done with some of Dad's friends and family who weren't willing to get up and give their own speech. I cringed at some parts, knowing they were surely boilerplate text he'd said for dozens of people before Dad. But would a priest, from a church we never attended, have done better?

Mom bravely got through her own speech, although there were tears streaming down her face by the end. I hugged her tight before I took her place at the podium and as I looked out at the audience, I could tell she was hardly alone. Both of my grandmothers were wiping away tears with Kleenex, and I didn't have time to count how many others. It was then that a wave of sadness washed over me, but combined with the knowledge that my Dad was really still there, in the hearts of all these people, so the emotion in the room actually gave me strength.

I started my own speech by looking skyward, and saying "I love you, Dad, and miss you," and proceeded to talk for about 10 minutes about what a great Dad he was, and how I wanted to dedicate my life to making him proud of me. My voice broke a couple of times, but I managed not to cry. Still exercising that stiff upper lip, you know?

Feeling composed, I then improvised a riff about how Dad's life energy wasn't really gone, how a bit of his transferred to everyone he interacted with, just as ours transferred to him, and thus he was still part of everyone who loved him, and not truly gone, earning me a weak smile from my mom. This summarized the closest I come to a religious belief or philosophy, that all life and love is essentially energy, which is exchanged between us, and persists past the death of an individual. I know, kinda sounds like 'The Force', but subtler, no levitating rocks or energy blasts making 90 degree turns, although I do think prayer and wishes can somehow draw on that energy in ways science doesn't explain. Not for everyone, but it's what I believe, and it comforted me to know that part of who I am comes from my Dad's influence and energy, not just his genetics, and that I was at that moment surrounded by people who likewise had part of Dad's energy in them, not just memories of him.

I admit I tuned out most of the speeches that followed mine, just sitting on the front bench, holding Patti's hand on my right, and Mom's on my left, filing my speech into my soul, and focussing my heart on these two women I loved and, I admitted to myself, desired.

And soon, the service was over. I helped load the posterboards, Dad's urn and portrait, and some of the flowers that people had sent into Mom's trunk, and drove her and Patti home. My grandparents took charge of the remaining flowers and met us there.

We hosted a get-together at our house, similar to a wake, almost standing room only, as various people filtered through the house, grabbed comfort food people had brought, then walked out to our deck and back yard, as the first floor of the house simply couldn't hold everyone. I itched to retreat to my room with Patti and my friends, but we stayed downstairs to mingle. I got a lot of compliments on my speech, and wound up explaining my energy philosophy to several clusters of people who wanted to hear more. I don't think I convinced a single person, but I rarely do. Mom was sitting in the living room between my grandmothers, and gave me a little smile each time I circulated by her.

As the sun set around 6:15, people started heading home, and it was just down to my grandparents, my mom and my friends, and we all kind of crashed in the living room after we cleaned up the kitchen and put all the leftovers away. Dad's urn was already up on the mantel over the fireplace, the portrait of him sitting beside it.

Grandma Marion asked, "So, you mentioned that Tom had chosen some places for scattering his ashes?"

Mom nodded, "Yes, his are all on the ocean. Galveston Beach in the Gulf, another one's in California to take care of the Pacific, and the last is in Maine, at Acadia National Park, which is on an island there. Tom loved all three of those places. The mortuary has already divided his ashes into three separate bags, so we don't have to divide it ourselves, and I got a travelling urn, with its own certificate, so I can travel with just the portion I would scatter."

"So you have to travel to all of those places?" Grandma asked.

"Yes, but I'm not going to hurry it," Mom said. "I'd like to do them on significant dates like his birthday, our anniversary, and such. I thought we could make Galveston a big family vacation with you two and Tom's brothers, since we wouldn't have to fly to get there. Our anniversary falls on Memorial Day this year, although the Galveston beach will probably be crowded, then. I've got to check availability in the hotels then, or maybe even rent the beach house you used to go to when the boys were kids, although I'm not sure there's room for all of us, from the way Tom described it. Maybe rent two instead. Then we can all go out on the beach at night and take turns scattering him into the surf."

"I'd like that. Thank you, Tina. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

My grandparents left around 7:30, and I finally retreated up to my room with my friends, when Mom said she wanted to lie down. I hugged her goodnight, hesitant to kiss her in front of Duke and Kenny. In my room, we sat on my bed and chairs, and just kind of looked at each other for a few minutes.

"What a day, huh?" said Duke, finally. "The funeral always winds up feeling the most unreal of the whole experience, know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks for being here, man. I don't like saying it, but if my Dad did have to die, I'm kinda glad it happened when you three could be around to support me, not in the middle of classes."

"That's what friends are for, Drew," Kenny chipped in. "Even more than for fun times, friends are the people who stand by you in the bad times. I was there when Duke lost his Dad, and I'll be here for you now."

Duke said, "Ain't that the truth. You wouldn't believe how many so-called friends flaked on me because they couldn't deal with me being sad when my Dad died. You two didn't, which is why you got elevated to Best Friend Forever status." He looked at his watch, and said, "Sorry to have to cut the support short, though, but I've got to get going. Have an early flight tomorrow, and still have some packing to do. Love you, dude. Call me if you need to talk."

"Me too," Kenny said. "To both the early flight and the phone. Be thinking of you." Duke and Kenny both attended colleges on the East Coast.

I gave both of them hugs, then they went downstairs and left.

Finally, it was just me and Patti. I knew she had a 500-mile drive ahead of her the next day, so she couldn't stay much longer, but at the same time I didn't want her to go, because I knew I wouldn't see her, except Skype, for almost two months. "I'm going to miss you, Patti. There's no two ways about it. I feel like I've gotten even closer to you over the past month, when I couldn't have imagined that it was possible to be closer than we already were. Call me when you get to campus, okay?"

She hugged me tight, then softly said, "I love you, Drew Barnes. Now and forever, okay? Spring Break can't get here fast enough, but Skype and phone sex will just have to do." She pulled away, and looked me in the eyes. She said, "This isn't a goodbye, mister. It's only a see you soon. You're never getting rid of me, understand?" and kissed me, fiercely, like an exclamation point on the end of her question.

"Never," I answered back, when the kiss broke. And with that, she spun away from me, and left my room. I heard the front door open, then saw her walk to her car from my window, and drive off. I went downstairs to lock the door, and stood for a moment just looking at my Dad's portrait. In the morning, I'd hang it for Mom.

------

Patti called me twice from the road the next day and again when she arrived on campus, and at least twice a day every day after that, plus a Skype chat at least three times per week, during which we would often masturbate, talking dirty to each other. We missed each other, but both understood my reasons for the separation. We both were counting the days until Spring Break.

My online classes started the same day Patti's did on campus. I missed the face-to-face interaction with professors and other students, but found that if I didn't provide my own distractions, that I absorbed the material efficiently, and had more free time not spent walking across campus between far-flung classes. Patti was already complaining about trudging through the snow that had fallen the first week back. I was doing my classwork with my shoes off.

Probate and life insurance processes continued. I wound up with $150,000 from one of two policies Dad had where Mom and I were co-beneficiaries, and Mom wound up helping me set up some new accounts to invest the money and start retirement savings. Here I thought I was staying home to help her! She used her benefits to pay off the mortgage and saved the rest. We decided that I'd sell my Escort and take over driving Dad's Mustang, once it was free of probate.

The one afternoon of sex between Patti and Mom and my involvement at the end seemed to have no major effects between Mom and I. She continued giving me long, soft kisses, whenever she said goodnight or goodbye, but she'd already started those before Patti, so I couldn't tell if what happened with Patti actually changed that.

My subconscious was reacting to the idea of sex with my Mom, however, as I awoke several times to dreams involving sex with her, from walking in on her and Patti again but kneeling at Mom's head to get a blowjob instead, to Mom riding my cock while Patti rode my face, to just being with Mom by ourselves, making love from a spoon position. Who knows how many more dreams I had but didn't remember. I didn't know whether to tell Patti about them, so didn't.

I enjoyed the kisses, but didn't know how I could push further than that, without some signal from Mom more definite than hearing my name moaned once. And she didn't seem to be pushing for more, either, so this just seemed to be a new normal for us. Warm and affectionate, but not overtly sexual. A lot of nights, we wound up watching a movie together, and she cuddled to my side, her head on my shoulder, often while sharing a bowl of popcorn, but we kept our hands to ourselves, then ended the night with another one of those kisses.

I did overhear her masturbating a couple more times in the next weeks, but didn't hear her scream my name again. Except in my memory, where it seemed to be on a regular loop.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to happen next, and really had no idea of how to start, even if I did.

-----

Feb 15, 2013

Feb 16th is my Dad's birthday, and Mom said that since one of the three places he wanted to have his ashes scattered was already associated with his birthday, it would be most appropriate to go there on his birthday this year, and she wanted me to come with her for the weekend, to help scatter his ashes there. It was a small B&B south of Mendocino California, where he and Mom had once vacationed for his birthday, before I was born.

We flew early on the 15th from DFW into Sacramento's airport, landing just before noon Pacific time. We would then have had a 3.5 hour drive over to the coast. That is, if Mom didn't have a few stops planned for us first. Our route took us through Sonoma County and all of its wineries, so we stopped in Healdsburg for a quick lunch and some ice cream, then did wine tastings at a couple of wineries that didn't retail in Texas, but could ship there so long as we made the purchase in-person at the winery, and we wound up buying a half-case from each to ship home, and five more bottles overall for the room. All of the different wines I tasted were excellent, in their own ways.

As a result, we finally arrived at the inn about 5:20 and got checked in, but before even unpacking the luggage and taking it to the room, we had dinner at the on-site restaurant, where we had delicious seafood dishes and wine with an excellent view of the sunset just before 6:00. The wine relaxed away all of the tensions and little aches from the long flight and driving.

When we were done eating, we then went to the rental car, and brought our bags and purchases to our room. It was in a small wind-worn building on the ocean side of the property, which backed along a cliff overlooking the ocean. The exterior looked beat up, overdue for painting, but the inside was well-kept. It was larger than a normal hotel room, and featured two levels, with a double bed on one side of the entrance and a small bathroom with sink and shower on the other. Then you stepped down three steps, and there were a couple of arm chairs with an end-table between them facing a circular fireplace backed against the upper level, then just past that a spiral staircase led up to a separate small room with a hot tub in it with its own ocean-view windows, and finally a small kitchen table and a sliding glass door opened onto a small deck with two chaises on it, with no actual railing between that deck and the cliff, and no other rooms overlooking it.

I got a fire started in the fireplace, using the starter log that was provided, as the room was a little chilly. Then I walked out onto the deck.

In twilight, I could already see how magnificent the view would be. We could see down the coast, but could not see any of the other units of the inn, giving us perfect privacy. It would have been another great spot to watch the sunset. Since we were staying two nights, I hoped we would have the opportunity.

I could feel the romance of the room as soon as I walked back in, as Mom finished some unpacking and opened one of the bottles of red wine, putting the two Chardonnays and a bottle of sparkling wine into the mini-fridge. Everything about the room screamed "couple's love-nest". It wasn't a family place, not without any cliff railing, and just the single bed. The hot tub clinched it.

"It hasn't changed at all! Don't you love it, Drew?" Mom said, a beaming smile on her face, after taking a sip of wine. A glass for me sat on a stand with the wine bottle. "I'm so glad it was available!"

I sat on the bed, and said, "Not sure this mattress has been changed since then, either."

"Hey! That's where you were probably conceived. Show it some respect." she said, chuckling.

"No way!" I'm sure the look on my face was priceless.

"Yes, way. There or the hot tub, kiddo. Definitely this room. You see, your dad was on a two-month project in San Rafael south of here where they weren't flying him back and forth to Dallas, and his birthday fell in the middle of it, on a Monday. So, he took that Monday off and he flew me out for four nights and we stayed here in this very room, caught up on all the sex we'd missed for the first month he was away, and I already knew I was pregnant with you before he got home another month after that. This room is the only place we had sex in that whole two month stretch. Did you never do the math to realize that your birthday is exactly 40 weeks after his, to know that you were conceived on or around his birthday? That's why this place was so special to us, and why we came back here twice more for our 10th and 15th anniversaries. You -began- here."

"And now you want me to share the very bed I was conceived in." I said, not even posing it as a question.

She smiled, and slowly said, "No, Drew, now I want you to make love to me in it..."

I apparently fainted at that point.

Even discussing this possibility with Patti a month earlier, all my thinking and dreams about it in the month between, had obviously not prepared me for it really happening. Maybe it was the wine I'd had at dinner. Or maybe it was that all my blood had suddenly rushed to my cock, at just the idea. When I came to, Mom was waving some smelling salts under my nose. Oh, the things a nurse will just happen to have in their purse. It jolted me awake, and I looked around, a little disoriented, then settled down as I remembered. "What... what did you just say?"

"I said, I want you to make love to me, honey. I want to relive what your Dad and I did here, with you. As I say... another goodbye to him, I... I want you to take his place, in my body, as you already have in my heart, the last two months. And let me be clear, you have the right to say 'No', and we will just sleep and live the rest of our lives as if I never asked. I'm just telling you what I want, and letting you decide if that's what you want, too."

"Mom? I know we've done a lot of stuff lately that moms and sons don't usually do together, but this... this is all the way across those lines. What if we can't come back from crossing them?"

"You don't understand, Drew," she said softly, taking my left hand, and stroking the back of it with her thumb. "I... I started having dreams about you from the first night I shared your bed, the day Tom died. At first, they were just dreams of being comforted by you, but it didn't take long for them to become fantasies about you taking your Dad's place in my life, especially sexually, and while that confused me at first, I chalked it up to being physically close to you at night, instead of him. But that excuse went totally out the window when I saw you naked Christmas morning. Honey, you came so close to being jumped that morning. I was so wet under my towel, and I jilled off in the shower after, just from thinking of what you might look like hard. My dreams that night were even more intense, and all about you fucking me silly. And you had that erection the next morning..."