For the Love of Family

A/N - Hello all! It's me again with another tale to tell. The old mind is always thinking of new ideas. Always unsure how original any of them are, so my effort is mostly about making sure it's an enjoyable romp at least.

Now while I enjoy a simple romantic story between mother/son or brother/sister (and I've also done other pairings from time to time), I also enjoy stories of family love between the man, usually the son, and his mother, sisters and maybe other female family members. I'm aware it's not everyone's cup of tea, but as the author, and also an avid reader of stories on this website, I enjoy reading and writing different sorts of stories within this category.

I'm doing my best not to call my main character 'Mark'. I'm branching out!

Not the usual caveats. Yep, spelling is still usually spot on as Word is kind enough to underline anything spelled incorrectly, and I still use Australian / British standard English, otherwise known as proper English. However, I now have an editor / proofreader, fellow member OhDave1. He offered his services being a fan of my work and I gratefully accepted. All mistakes are owned up to by the author. Please remember this is just fantasy and I'm still an amateur.

Comments and feedback are appreciated as always.

*****

Sitting in near darkness, I could only make out the shapes of all the picture frames that were on the walls of the living room. Some were family photos of my father, mother and siblings. One was a photo of my parents on their wedding day. One was my graduation photo from university a couple of years ago. A couple were pictures from vacations we'd taken together as a family.

The large television was attached to the wall. There was a bookshelf and a couple of other shelving units. A large three-seat couch, a small two-seat lounge, and two armchairs. I'd taken a position in one of the armchairs, only a small lamp providing any illumination from its position between the two armchairs.

Checking my phone, it was nearly midnight. I had no idea where my father was though I could take a guess. My opinion of the man was incredibly low. My younger sisters were both out enjoying themselves having recently turned nineteen. Neither was in a relationship so were likely out with their friends, enjoying some drinks and dancing. They were always sensible when on a night out.

It was after midnight when I heard a key in the door, waiting until my mother had closed it behind her. I heard the click of her heels on the hardwood floor. She stopped for a moment as she would have noticed my presence in the armchair.

"Don't turn on the light," I ordered.

"William? What are you doing here? Why are you sitting in the dark?"

Good question. I'd made sure my face wasn't illuminated by the lamp, otherwise, she'd see how angry I was straight away. "Take a seat, Mum," I replied. Keeping my temper in check wasn't easy. I was angry because I was upset but mostly disappointed with what I'd been hearing. She was my mother...

"I'm going to get a drink and..."

I stood up and made sure I glared at her. Even in the darkness, I knew she would have seen the white of my eyes. "Sit. Down," I barked.

Seeing my mother jolt, it momentarily hurt my heart to scare her, but keeping a lid on my emotions wasn't easy. I could tell, even in the darkness, my mother was dressed to impress. I knew about the new behaviour. The nights out with her friends. Having to hear about such behaviour from my friends was embarrassing. But it was when I followed her myself and discovered what she was doing...

"I'm your mother," she tried to argue, "I will not..."

I stepped closer, ensuring she had to lift her head to meet my eyes. "Sit. Down. Mother," I spat, "Lest I just carry you over there and force your arse onto the seat."

She wasn't deaf or dumb. She could hear that I was barely keeping my anger in check. With a nod, she stepped to the side and carefully sat down, smoothing out her dress. Only then did I switch on the main light though dimmed it enough, so it wasn't too bright. Standing before her, she gazed up at me and her eyes were already glistening.

My mother looked sexy as hell. The little black dress left her shoulders bare, showed off her cleavage, and the hem barely reached her mid-thigh. I held out a hand. "Give me your handbag," I demanded.

She handed it over immediately, opening it up and I found what I wanted, taking out the black panties and threw them on the coffee table. "You're a married woman with three grown children and you're parading yourself out there with no panties on," I stated with disgust.

Searching even more, I found the condoms. It looked like a six-pack, somewhat relieved there were still six unused. I threw those on the table next to her panties. "Why are you carrying condoms around, mother?" I asked, "I know my father is shooting blanks now."

Mum couldn't meet my eyes. I heard the sniffle and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You wouldn't understand..."

"I understand enough, Mum," I retorted, grabbing the bag I'd kept next to the armchair. Opening it up, I retrieved the manila folder and opened it up. Placing down the first photo, I heard her gasp as she looked up at me in surprise. I said nothing as I placed down more photos, each worse than the last if you were to know that she was a married woman. "Oh, trust me, Mum, I understand plenty. I'm sure you've got more than one excuse already bubbling away in that mind of yours. I honestly thought stories I read were bullshit, all these 'girls' night out' and the shenanigans that apparently go on. Colour me surprised when I realised my own fucking mother was but one shining example that it's not all bullshit."

"Let me explain," she said softly, "You don't understand, William. You don't know the whole story."

"Then explain it to me then, Mum. Because I'm fucking pissed off right now, but worse than that, I'm embarrassed and disappointed that my mother, a married woman, would act in such a manner. Know where I got the first few photos from?" She shook her head. "From Mark. My best friend. He saw my own mother out with her friends on the verge of being intimate with men other than her husband." I pointed at the last few photos. "And then there are these. You were so busy the past five times you've been out that you didn't even notice your own son was occasionally within touching distance."

"It's not as bad as it seems. I'm not the bad person in all of this," she said softly.

"Have you had sex with them, Mum?" She shook her head. "Then why the condoms?"

"I wanted to! I'll admit that. I've gone out each night with the girls with the idea of finding another man to be with. I bought a six-pack of condoms, thinking a young man or two would be up to fuck me more than once." She actually blushed when she realised that she'd just admitted that to her own son. "But I've never gone the whole way. I'm too nervous, and part of me knows I'd be no better than your father if I followed through."

"What?" I asked, hearing the surprise in my own voice, "Mum, is he cheating on you?"

She sagged where she was sitting. "I don't know as I've never had any evidence, but I'm adamant he's been cheating on me for years," she whispered, wiping her cheeks again, "He's always been busy but it's worse than ever. Always working late. Going away to conferences and 'work events'. And the women that surround him are beautiful, and far younger than I am, and I've been to one work event with him. They fawn all over him and he just laps it up."

Sighing to myself, much of the anger disappeared though I stated, "You cheating on him doesn't make you any better than him, Mum."

"I know! But I'm so lonely with you gone and my daughters now at university and living their own lives. And with my husband rarely home..." Then she stopped and started to cry. All the anger disappeared, and I sat down next to her as she turned and sobbed into my chest. "I'm only forty-four, William. My life shouldn't be over now."

Stroking her back, she cried for a couple of minutes before she settled down, feeling her arms tighten around me. "I had no idea..."

"I'm not going to call my son and tell him all my problems with my marriage," she replied lightly, "But at least you do care if you're here now."

"I hated the idea that you were out there doing such things, Mum. It doesn't look good. I've heard whispers and comments from people we both know."

"I've only ever danced with other men, William."

"Kissing?"

Sighing, she nodded against my chest. "Okay, yes, there's sometimes a little kissing. I'll find myself aroused by a handsome man dancing with me and I get a little carried away."

"But nothing else?"

"Oh, they love to rub their erections against me," she said, giggling to herself, "But no, I haven't touched another man's junk. I go out with the girls, we'll have dinner and drinks, then find a place to dance. I won't drink too much more as I want to make sure I'm still completely aware. I don't let men buy me drinks as that's how you end up getting a date rape drug. We're always safe when going out, and we protect each other from creepy guys."

"What do you know about Dad?" I wondered.

Sighing, she hugged me tighter. "Can we talk about it tomorrow morning?" Leaning back, she met my eyes. "You can take your old room."

Standing up, I helped my mother to her feet, hugging each other again. I still didn't like what she was doing, and I knew we'd need to talk a lot more, but if my father was cheating on my mother, then I'd definitely be having some words with him as well. Leading her towards her bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her heels before rolling off her thigh-high stockings. Smiling at me as I leaned against the frame of the doorway, she said, "Watching your old mother get undressed?"

"Just making sure you're okay, Mum," I replied.

"Uh-huh. I'm thinking you want a dress show. I think you're seeing your old mother dressed up like this for the first time in a while and you like it."

"Always thought you were beautiful, Mum."

Her face lit up as she walked towards me. Now without her heels, she only stood at five-four compared to my six-one. Cuddling against me, resting her head against my chest, she sighed happily. "I'm going to have a quick shower before I go to bed," she stated, "Are you going to tuck me in too?"

"I'll be back in a minute. I'm just glad you're not falling down drunk."

Smiling at her, I was ready to turn and head to the kitchen when she held onto me tighter. "Did you mean it, William?"

"Mean what?"

"That I'm beautiful. Did you mean it?"

She gazed up at me, her green eyes glistening. "Of course, Mum," I replied, "You're as beautiful today as all the memories I have of you growing up."

"Anyone would think my twenty-four-year-old son is crushing on his mother?" Snorting made her giggle. "Then again, I remember when you were five and said you wanted to marry me. I've never forgotten that."

"Go have a shower, Mum. Want a cup of tea?"

"I'd love one."

Before I let her go, I whispered, "Sorry for yelling. But..."

"It's okay, sweetie. In a way, you were protecting me from myself. But I love going out. I love the attention. I feel so sexy. I feel wanted. I can't remember the last time..." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. "I can't think of a better way than ending the night with my handsome son hugging me though," she added softly.

I turned her around and smacked her bottom, earning a giggle. "Behave. Time to shower and get into bed. I'll make us a cup of tea."

Walking through the kitchen, I still wasn't sure about the entire thing. I could understand my mother wanting her freedom. But I had to know if she had any evidence of my father cheating. I wasn't blind to his distance, not just to his wife but to his entire family. I could distinctly remember the late nights and time away began when I was around fifteen. It was nearly ten years later, and the situation seemed to be even worse. If my mother had been having to tolerate it since then, no wonder she was taking matters into her own hands.

Making a cup of tea for each of us, ensuring it was her favourite flavour, I returned to the master bedroom, kicking off my shoes and sitting back against the headboard. Mum was singing to herself in the shower, making me chuckle more than once. I was glad she was happy, feeling a little guilty that I'd blown up at her. Hearing the water shut off, she appeared a few minutes later wearing a silk robe, something rather new, with her towel wrapping up her brunette hair.

Sitting next to me, she took the offered cup of tea and took a sip. "Ah, that hits the spot. Thank you, sweetie," she said.

"No problem. Feeling better?"

"A little bit. I'm hurting to know I've disappointed you, William. That's the last thing I'd ever want, to think my son..."

Wrapping an arm around her, I shuffled closer as she rested her head against me. "We'll talk in the morning, Mum. Don't worry about it right now." Feeling her snuggle against me, I did have to ask, "From the photos, and from what I saw, you did get lots of attention. How did it make you feel?"

"Validated. That I might be a mother of three and a secretary at a construction firm, but that I could still attract a man. I might be in my forties, that my body isn't what it once was, but that young men were still interested in someone perhaps twenty years older than them. I can't remember the last time your father showed any interest in me. My dildo has seen more action in the last ten years..."

"What?" I asked, my voice going up an octave.

"Oh please, William. I'm a woman at her sexual peak and the only reason I'm somewhat celibate is that your father has no interest in fucking me. I have more than one dildo and vibrator to help me orgasm."

"Have you not had sex with my father in ten years?"

"I can't remember the last time he gave me more than a peck on the cheek and a brief hug. Whenever he's here at home, he just shows no interest. And trust me on this, William, I've done all I can to entice him. One of my drawers is full of sexy lingerie I bought hoping it would revitalise our marriage."

I swallowed the rest of my tea and turned towards her. "Put some on now," I stated.

"What?"

"Put some on now, Mum. I'm neutral in all this. I want to see what my father is quite clearly missing."

"I might need a drink before I model for my son."

Kissing her cheek, I got up from the bed and found a bottle of liquor in the cabinet, returning to the bedroom with two glasses. Pouring us each a couple of fingers, Mum knocked back the first glass, pouring her a second that she sipped at. "Fuck it," she finally exclaimed, "I want to know if I'm as ugly..."

I hugged her immediately. "You're beautiful, Mum," I whispered into her ear, "Get changed."

She opened the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a few things, keeping them hidden under her robe before she disappeared into the bathroom, noticing she stopped to pick up the same heels she'd been wearing earlier. I happily sat back to wait for her, surprised to hear the hairdryer, and she must have been gone for ten minutes.

"Ready, sweetheart?" she called from behind the door.

"Show me what you've got, Mum."

She opened the door, holding her robe closed. She was wearing black thigh-high stockings and heels, I raised my eyes to her face, noticing the lipstick, mascara and application of light make-up, plus the fact her hair had been styled. Taking a couple of tentative steps towards me, I moved to the edge of the bed.

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?"

"I am, Mum. All you're doing is showing me what my father should be seeing."

"You're my son though..."

"I'm not going to touch you, Mum. I'm only looking, giving you advice and feedback."

She took a deep breath. "Okay," she whispered, "Here goes nothing."

Dropping the robe to the floor, it pooling around her heels, I felt my jaw drop slightly as I took in the body of my mother. At forty-four years old, she was spectacular. The bra she wore was low cut and sheer, her nipples visible through the fabric, and there was no missing her arousal. My mother had large breasts, around a D-cup, and they looked spectacular. I knew my mother worked out and did yoga so the fact she kept her womanly figure but there was some tone which wasn't a surprise. The panties barely covered her pussy, also sheer, and it seemed my mother kept herself mostly smooth. The ensemble was completely by a garter belt and suspenders.

"What do you think?" she finally asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

"I think my father is a complete fucking idiot. Mum... You're fucking hot!"

Her face lit up with absolute delight. "You really think so, sweetheart?"

"Mum, seriously, if I was out in a club and I saw you dressed like that, well, maybe with that little black dress you were wearing, I'd be doing my best to pick you up all night."

I couldn't remember my mother looking so happy, walking over and wrapping her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart. I needed to hear that tonight," she whispered.

"Let's have a drink, Mum, and you can sit next to me looking all sexy until you want to sleep."

"I'm too excited to sleep right now!" she exclaimed.

Sitting back on her bed, we sipped at another drink as she cuddled into me. "If your father walked in right now, he'd probably have a few questions," she stated.

"Dad's a fool, Mum. You're a beautiful woman who deserves to be loved."

"You love me, don't you, sweetheart?"

"With all my heart, Mum."

Kissing my cheek, she made a contented sound as she snuggled tightly into me, her hand resting on my chest. "I miss you not being here. I know it's been four years since you moved out, and I'm not the only one that misses you, William," she said softly, "Your sisters sometimes look lost that you're no longer here. I know you visit weekly, but it's not the same as living here."

"I miss you guys too, but I needed to strike out on my own. Get my own little place."

"No girlfriend?"

"Nah, not after what happened with Sophie. She didn't exactly cheat, but..." I sighed, "It was almost the same situation as tonight. There was intention and, to me, that was enough. I trusted her up until that point when she started going out all the time with her friends. When the trust was gone, I didn't want to be one of those guys sitting at home, wondering what his girlfriend was up to, wondering where she was when it was two hours after the time she agreed to come up. Everyone insisted she never did anything, but while that might have been the case, I had a feeling she wanted to hook up. I said she can be single again and fuck whoever she wanted."

"How long go was that?"

"Six months ago. Not really wanted to dip my toe back in the water since then."

"Now I feel worse," she whispered.

Placing my glass down, I turned and held her in my arms. "Mum, it's okay. We still need to talk, but part of me at least understands regarding Dad. If he is doing you dirty..." I lifted her chin with a finger, meeting her green eyes. "You should have told me," I suggested.

"What would you have done?"

"Made you feel as beautiful as you are, and treated you like you deserve to be."

"But you're my son, and there's one thing I want that..."

"You mean sex?" She looked away, definitely blushing, but she nodded. "I can understand if it's been that long."

"I just want to feel loved, William. I want to find myself wrapped up in the arms of a man at the end of a night. I can't remember the last time your father even held me."

"Get changed, Mum. I'm going to get changed too. I'm sleeping in here tonight."

"What?"

Kissing her cheek, I whispered, "You're going to get at least one of your wishes. Now scoot to the bathroom, get into whatever you wear to bed, and then you're getting cuddled all night."