Life's Too Short

"I can help," she protested.

"I know that, but I'd rather you went and relaxed. I've got this," I insisted.

Reluctantly she headed off while I rinsed our dishes and put them into the dishwasher. Just as I was finishing up I heard music coming from the front of the house. With a smile on my face I went into the living room and found mom sitting on the couch with her nearly empty wine glass in her hand. I noticed she had her eyes closed and a dreamy look on her face. I went back into the kitchen and returned with the almost empty bottle of wine. I must have startled her when I took her glass from her hand because she jumped and gazed at me with wide eyes.

"Just refilling your glass," I explained, handing it back to her.

"You are trying to get me drunk," she lightheartedly accused before bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a small sip.

"Yeah Mom, that's what I'm trying to do," I laughed.

Cocking her head to one side, she seductively asked, "And just what do you plan to do with me once you've gotten me drunk?"

Her question caught me off-guard at first. Once it dawned on me that she was only teasing I let my eyes roam over her leeringly and replied, "Hmm, I'm not really sure. There are so many possibilities it would be hard to choose."

She feigned shock at first but couldn't keep a straight face for long before busting out in laughter. I joined in and soon we were both doubling over because we were laughing so hard. Sitting down before I fell over I placed my beer on the coffee table, and that's when I noticed the photo album sitting there. I glanced at it, then glanced at her.

"Why is that out here?" I quietly asked.

"Well, since you've already looked at it there's no reason for me to keep it hidden," she answered, blushing slightly.

"I only looked at a few pages," I informed her.

Genuine shock showed on her face this time.

"Really? You didn't look through the whole thing?" she asked.

"Nope," I answered, unable to look at her.

"So how far did you get?"

"Just to the picture of what looked like you under a table, umm...giving Dad..." I couldn't bring myself to say it.

Apparently mom had no such quims about speaking bluntly. I was sure it was because of the wine since I've never heard her speak like this before. At least not in my presence anyway.

"A blow job?" she snickered.

"Uh, yeah, that," I sheepishly replied.

"You're probably curious about that huh?"

Yes, yes I was curious about that, but I sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that. Fortunately for me she took the choice out of my control and proceeded to tell me the story behind that photograph.

"I did that on a dare from your Father. He dared me to do it, and if I did he said he would return the favor."

Bucking up my courage I asked, "And did he?"

"Unfortunately no. We lost him before he had a chance to." I clearly heard the pain in her voice.

If it was taken right before dad died then I figured that it couldn't be too old.

"So how old is the picture?" I asked.

"Two weeks before his accident," she sighed.

I knew I was bringing up painful memories for her, but my curiosity was running wild.

"Where was it taken?"

She gazed into my eyes, and with a broad smile proudly answered, "Bertonelli's on main street."

"No way! Bertonelli's?," I exclaimed, astonished to hear that my parents had gotten kinky in the swankiest restaurant in town.

"Way," she giggled.

"Wow," was all I could think of to say.

"Anything else you want to know?" she asked, placing her hand gently on my forearm.

Reaching over I picked up the photo album and opened it to the page that held the plane ticket to the Bahamas.

"Is this where you guys went on your honeymoon?"

Looking at the ticket, her smile remaining, she replied, "No, that's the flight were we joined the mile high club."

Closing the album I returned it to the coffee table then leaned back on the couch.

"I had no idea my parents were such kinky people," I stated.

"Oh, we didn't consider ourselves kinky. We were more, how should I put this...adventurous. Yeah, that's a good term for what we were," mom chuckled to herself.

Just as I was about to ask some more questions a Barry White song came on the stereo. It was nice and slow and sexy at the same time. Standing I turned toward mom and extended my hand.

"May I have this dance?" I asked her.

When she took my hand I helped her to her feet. I'm five-ten, and mom is around five-five, so when she slid into my embrace the top of her head fit just under my chin. As I held her in my arms I worried that she might feel the unexpected erection growing in my jeans, so I held her stiffly away from me as if I were some teenager at a high school dance. This got a chuckle from her.

"Hold me tighter honey, I won't break," she cooed into my ear.

I had just enough of a buzz going that I threw caution to the wind. Placing my arms around her slim waist I pulled her into me so that our fronts were snugly touching. If she felt the bulge in my jeans she didn't let on. I however did feel the way her breasts pressed into my chest, along with the occasional bump of her lower stomach against my cock as we lost ourselves in the deep rich voice of Barry White. I'm not sure when the song ended. I found myself holding her tightly to me as her soft sobs finally broke through my subconscious mind. Pushing her back a little I cupped her face in my hands and gazed into her watery eyes.

"Why are you crying, Mom?" I asked.

Her bottom lip quivered as she said, "I'm just scared sweetheart."

Using my thumbs to brush away the tears rolling down her cheeks I said, "Don't be, I'm here for you, Mom. I'll take care of you."

"Oh Alan, I love you so much darling," she sobbed, once more crushing herself against me.

As I held her, and much to my relief, my erection subsided. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but when she finally pushed away I instantly longed for her to be in my arms again. Instead she said she was going to bed. Lifting up on her toes she placed a gentle kiss on my lips then turned and headed down the hall. I stood there for several long minutes after I heard her door shut, the feel of her lips on mine still lingering. Before heading to bed I cleaned up our empties and locked up the house. It was a long walk to my bedroom because I was pretty sure that sleep would elude me for some time to come.

I lay in bed thinking about what to do. Obviously I couldn't do anything about mom's illness, but what I could do was be as brave as possible for her. I think she needed that from me. I was just about to turn over and try to go to sleep when I heard my door squeak open. Turning to face the door I saw mom standing there, the hall light illuminating her enough to see that she looked hesitant to come in. It also revealed that she was wearing a floor-length nightgown. For several moments she stood there, glancing first into my room then back toward her bedroom. I could tell she was having a hard time deciding what to do so I called out to her.

"Are you okay, Mom," I softly asked.

"Oh, you are awake. I just...umm...I mean..."

She couldn't bring herself to tell me what she wanted to say, but I knew. Sliding over to the far side of the bed I held up the covers, a clear invitation to join me if she wanted. I didn't even think about the fact that I was completely naked under the covers, all I could think about was holding her, comforting her. She cocked her head then stepped forward and swiftly crawled under the covers with me.

"Thank you honey. I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered as she slowly reached out for me.

Sliding one arm under her head, I placed my other one around her waist and pulled her to me. As soon as my skin felt the silky fabric of her nightgown it dawned on me that I was naked. It didn't take her long to find out either. When I had pulled her to me she had one arm pinned under her, and as she pulled it free she brought her hand upwards, the back of it rubbing against my cock and balls. She let out a little squawk.

"Sorry about that Mom, I like to sleep in the buff. Give me a minute and I'll throw on some pajamas," I told her.

"No, it's okay. It's not like I can see you, and if I turn and face the other way then there shouldn't be a problem," she replied, turning swiftly so she was facing away from me.

"If you're sure it's okay," I said as I slowly turned my back to her.

"Could you hold me Alan?" I heard her say.

"Uh, sure," I replied, rolling back over and scooting close enough that I could put my arm around her.

"Closer," she whispered.

Panic set in as I scooted over until we were spooning snugly, her round ass pressed tightly against my cock. I was sure that I'd spring a hard-on at any moment, but as I settled in all I felt was peaceful contentment. In no time I heard the unmistakable sound of her even breathing, followed rapidly by me drifting off too.

Sunlight filtered into my room waking me from what I could only describe as one of the best nights' sleep I've had in years. I was still in a fetal position, my morning wood throbbing. Before I opened my eyes I reached out only to discover I was alone in bed. Glancing over at my nightstand I saw the red luminous numbers on my clock telling me that it was 8:40 am. Rolling onto my back I stretched for a few seconds, stroked my cock a couple of times, then crawled out of bed. After throwing on the pajama bottoms that I should've put on last night I made a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve my bladder then headed to the kitchen, a slight spring in my step. I half expected to see mom in the kitchen, but didn't, so I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

As I sat my cup down I noticed the photo album sitting there. I stared at it for several long moments before idle curiosity got the better of me. I pulled the album over and flipped through the pages that I hadn't looked at before. I was actually amazed how tasteful the rest of the pictures were. They were a mixture of both mom and dad doing various things at various places, and of course they were both nude in all of them. What I found interesting was how the pictures had shown them from younger days up until quite recently. I couldn't help but smile at my dad's pictures, because he had a boner in every one of them. Moms were a little different, more subdued, but I could still see the wickedness dancing in her eyes, as if she were having the time of her life. Closing the album I sat back in my chair and smiled.

"What are you smiling about?" I heard mom ask.

Turning I saw her standing at the sliding door leading out into the back yard, the light behind her leaving very little to the imagination as it streamed through the cream-colored nightgown she had on. I reasoned that it was the same one she worn to bed. I couldn't make out any details, but I could clearly see the silhouettes of her toned legs, along with the wide space of her crotch at the top of her thighs. Instantly I felt the blood rushing to my dick along with the heat of a blush creeping onto my face. She must have figured out what I was looking at because she looked down and then back up at me, a slight blush rising on her cheeks as well.

"Oh, nothing," I replied, my smile widening.

She came over and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Tell me why you're smiling," she softly implored me.

Chuckling, I said, "I just looked at the rest of your pictures and couldn't help noticing Dad had a boner in every one of them."

Laughing she removed her hand, took a seat next to me, then said, "Yeah, your father is...was, a rather amorous fellow."

"Amorous! More like horny I'd say. Although I can't blame him," I let slip.

Her eyes flashed that devilish look as she asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Oops, busted!

"Uh, please forgive me for saying this, but, you're an amazingly attractive woman, so I can understand why Dad had trouble controlling his reaction to being around you."

She cocked one eyebrow up and asked, "You think I'm attractive?"

"Very!" I quickly replied.

"I'm flattered that you think so," she said while standing.

Before stepping away from the table she asked if I'd like a refill on my coffee. Not waiting for an answer she picked up my cup and went over to the counter where the pot was. When she came back and sat it in front of me I just happened to glance up and my eyes spotted the twin points of her erect nipples. It was then that I noticed I could actually make out the darkness of her areolas through the thin nightgown. I quickly averted my gaze, but I was pretty sure she had caught me staring. A slight smirk played on her lips as she retrieved her cup and once more joined me at the table.

"So you looked at the rest of the pictures," she stated, reaching over and pulling the album to her side of the table.

Between sips I said, "I did."

"And what did you think of them?" she asked.

"They were very nice, but I thought they would've been more sexual in nature. Aside from the one with you under the table, and the fact that I didn't see any of you guys at a nude beach, they seemed a little tame," I responded, unable to look at her for fear my eyes would latch onto her chest and never let go.

With a chuckle she said, "The spicier ones are still in my shoe box."

I had to look at her after that.

"Are you going to let me see those too?" I asked with a little more enthusiasm than I had planned.

"Absolutely not!" she practically shouted.

"Not even the ones of you two at a nude beach?" I teased.

A frown appeared on her face for a brief moment before she said, "Unfortunately there aren't any like that. It was on our to do list, but time ran out before we had a chance to visit one."

Once again I could kick myself for dredging up painful memories. Reaching over I placed my hand on hers and whispered, "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Don't be," she replied just as the phone in the front room rang.

Instead of getting it we let the answering machine pick it up. We could hear the message. It was from the doctor's office requesting mom call him as soon as possible. I saw a cloud come over her face as she got up and went into the front room. The next thing I heard was mom deleting the message, followed shortly by the sound of her bedroom door softly closing.

Over the next two days mom seemed to withdraw into herself, hardly eating, rarely speaking, and I was sure she wasn't getting enough sleep. Her eyes were always swollen and red, which made me wonder if she'd been up most of the night crying. Another thing had me worried. Something that had been nagging at the back of my brain ever since we went to see the doctor. She'd said that if she was going to die, then it would be on her terms. Could she be contemplating suicide? I hated myself for even thinking such a thought, but no one ever thinks a loved one would do something like that, until they did. I had to wonder if that's what she meant be her way. I tried to banish that thought from my mind, telling myself she wasn't that kind of person. But how well do we really know anyone? I was sure I knew my mother well enough, but that didn't stop the doubts from creeping into my head. I vowed to save her from herself. I just had to figure out how. Ironically, mom provided the answer the next morning at breakfast.

I was sitting at the table sipping my second cup of coffee, mom was at the sink with her back to me. Suddenly she spun around and declared in a happy voice that we should get out of the house and do something.

"What do you want to do?" I asked, surprised by her chipper mood.

She strode over, stood by my chair with her hand on my shoulder, and said, "I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. And I'm tired of causing you to worry so much. I think it's time to just get out and live a little. So, what do you say? Feel like getting out and having our own little adventure?"

Standing, I embraced her and said, "That sounds good, Mom, really good."

She hugged me back and asked if I had any ideas of what we could do.

"I think we should head to the lake," I suggested.

"You want to go swimming?" she asked, her voice full of skepticism.

"Not just swimming. We can pack a lunch, make a day of it. Just imagine sitting in the fresh air feeling the cool breeze coming off the water," I said, hoping my enthusiasm would rub off.

Mom cocked her head, thought for a minute, then said, "That actually sounds nice."

"Okay then, you go find a swimsuit and I'll take care of everything else," I told her.

It was a while before she returned dressed in loose khaki shorts, and an oversized man's shirt, one of dad's old ones I presumed. She had large sunglasses on her face and a wide-brimmed floppy hat on her head. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. As for me I was wearing my usual tan cargo shorts, a blue t-shirt and sporting a freshly manscaped groin area.

"Where's you swimsuit?" I asked.

"Under my clothes. Where's yours?" she asked, eyeing me up and down.

"I'm wearing them, same as you," I replied.

She gazed at me for another second, pursed her lips, and laughingly said, "It doesn't look like you have anything under your shorts. Please tell me you're not wearing a speedo!"

"Nope, no speedo, Mom. I promise," I laughed.

"Okay then, let's get rolling," she commanded.

"Yes ma'am!" I saluted, getting another round of laughter from her.

Since I'd already packed a large cooler with sandwiches, a six-pac of sodas for me, (I was driving after all,) and two bottles of wine for her it didn't take long to load up the back of my Cherokee. I had also brought towels and the umbrella from the patio table because it was quite large, and where we were going there really wasn't much shade.

It wasn't until I drove past the turn-off to the lake we normally went to that mom looked over at me and spoke.

"You just missed the turn, Alan."

Without taking my eyes off the road I replied, "We're not going there. I have another place in mind for today. You don't mind, do you?"

"I guess not," she replied, then sat and watched the countryside slip by.

Another twenty miles slipped by before I saw her starting to shoot little glances my way. I could tell she was wondering where the hell I was going, but after telling her we were almost there, she finally sat back and enjoyed the view. We were traveling through rolling hills covered in tall grass. It wasn't until I pulled into a dirt road with signs that proclaimed this was private property did she sit up and glare at me.

"This is private property sweetie," she stated.

I glanced her way and said, "Don't worry, I know the owners."

"How do you know the owners? Have you been out here before?" I could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Relax, Mom, I've been out here a couple of times. As a matter of fact it was the owners niece that showed this place to me."

As only a mother can she made this face that conveyed several things. First, why hasn't she met this girl, then secondly, what kind of girl was she and how long have I known her. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny?" she inquired.

"It's not like that, Mom. She's just a classmate, and she's also a lesbian. I come out here with her and her girlfriend."

That seemed to calm her motherly inquisitiveness. We rode for another quarter of a mile when we came upon a barrier much like a railroad crossing, only much smaller. The arm was just long enough to block the road and when we stopped there was a metal keypad next to my side of the jeep. Mom looked at me as if to say, "Now what?" Reaching up I lowered my visor and took a laminated card that I had attached to it. Grinning at mom, I leaned out my window and inserted the card into a slot at the bottom of the keypad. Nothing happened at first, but then the keypad buzzed, and the crossing arm slowly started to rise.