Mothers and Secrets

"Dad. Really?"

"I'm a man, son. This is my wife. You're old enough to know what a man and his wife do. Don't act squeamish just because it's us."

"It's not that. It's how you..." Grant saw a fight ahead if he criticized his father's tactless tack. He went another way, "I'm just wondering why you're acting so frisky all of a sudden, Dad?"

His father shrugged his shoulders for an answer.

Madeline turned her gaze to her son. She watched him like he had opened a complex mystery.

Grant made a shrug of his own, and locked eyes with his mom. "I guess he's started to notice our hard work, huh?"

Gabe smiled and gave his woman a final squeeze before turning to head for the den.

The younger man squeezed his mother's forearm, and said, "Of course I knew you had it in you from the start, didn't I?"

Madeline's eyes softened. "I'm done," she murmured, placing her fork on her plate. "Would you like more?"

"No, I'm stuffed. Let's clear up."

They stood together at the sink without speaking. The mommy washed. Her "Coach G" dried.

As he wiped the last plate, he grumbled. "Fucking unbelievable."

"What, sweetheart? What's wrong."

He gripped the edge of the counter top, and watched his knuckles turn white. His head shook side-to-side. "I guess it was part of the goal, somehow..."

"What are you talking about?"

He looked at her, and jerked his head towards the den. "More than a decade of being an asshole. Now he likes how you've shaped up. So all he has to do is give you a little shoulder massage, and I guess you two will be..." He looked back down at his fingers. "Must be pretty damn nice. Lie around, getting meaner and more out of shape by the day. You'll be rewarded: a beautiful woman in your bed."

"Grant," she scolded in a whisper. "I do not want to talk about this with you right now." He looked back over to see his mother's nervous expression. "Your father is in the next room, and he might hear you. The last thing I want is a fight."

"Whatever. It's none of my business, I guess. Right? You wouldn't want my opinion anyway."

"Actually," she seemed to choke on her own words as she tried to push them out. "I was... I would. I do value your opinion... on this matter."

"But you won't let me talk..."

"Not here," she hushed. "Not now."

"But you really want to talk with me about this?"

She huffed a deep breath, and looked at her own hands. "Yes, Grant. I actually would like very much to know what you think I should... what you think about all this. Just not within earshot of..." This time Madeline locked eyes with her son and jerked her head toward the den. She wore a crooked smile doing it.

Grant did his best to suppress a snort and a chuckle. Then -- like a man possessed -- he turned to face her, and took her left bicep in his right hand. Then he stroked her hair with his left. "Then come downstairs to the den after he falls asleep, and we will talk about it then." To his own surprise he had said this with a tone of authority and finality. It wasn't a suggestion.

Madeline looked at her son with hunger and awe. "Okay," she swooned.

"So I'll see you there later tonight, young lady?"

She looked at her hands and half whispered, "Yes, sir."

***

We do not choose our desires.

I did not choose to want him any more than I could choose to like ice cold lemonade on a steamy August afternoon. There is no way to choose to not want him. It's like how I cannot choose to dislike a butter pecan ice cream banana split. It may not be to some people's taste, but when I look at either of them, there is no way to stop salivating.

What I have chosen -- what I find to be my responsibility -- is to choose my actions. I choose to take no big actions. I will not try to devour that sundae in one gulp. I will choose a glass of ice water over lemonade until the time is right. And I will not jump on my son and try to rewire all our lives in an instant. If I allow myself to take steps, I have decided, they will be small and measured steps.

I may never enjoy the sort of embrace and command I desire from my son. But if I do, it will because I stepped into his arms with slow deliberate steps. If it happens, we will both know it's happening. If that dream is ever fulfilled, it will be with clear and open eyes.

That is what I can choose.

Part of an early MadMommy1980 public post "Where the Crime is. Where it isn't" more than two years ago

***

Grant sat on the couch in half light. A few hours ago he had overheard his mother refusing her husband sex, so he'd gone to the den to wait for her. The TV was on but muted. He wore his workout shorts and no shirt.

Madeline descended the stairs. She was wearing a shapeless, oversized lumpy sleeping gown. It looked comically bad on her.

"What is that thing you're wearing? Do you wear that to bed every night?"

"I've trimmed down so much that it doesn't fit me properly any more. I haven't gotten around to buying a new one. It's comfortable enough."

"But you bought that new workout outfit. That fits like a glove."

She stood shrouded in thick fabric before her son in the glow of the now-paused TV. "Yes. That was more important."

"I trust you've picked up new underwear that fits too."

His mom blushed. "Yes, of course. I couldn't get around in my old stuff. That would be ridiculous."

"Are you wearing a bra and panties under that gown?"

Madeline stared at him. She could only manage to nod.

"Well, I can't stand the sight of this gown. I would really prefer you take it off. I can't imagine your bra and panties show much more than your workout outfits."

It was not a command, but his mother lifted the gown without objection or hesitation. She was stunning in deep red bra and panties. It was the set she wore in her photo online! He'd first seen it when he'd discovered her account, but the loving son had viewed the image many times since. She'd mentioned it was a size too small, but tonight it fit her like every man's dream

"Wow, Mom. Just. Oh, wow. You look wonderful in that."

"So," She stood with her hands clasped before the groin of the crimson night bottoms. "Better?" she fished with a hopeful smile?

"It's like...like..." He gasped at her transformed body in the skimpy lingerie. "Like watching you take that off just transported me to a whole other world." Her smile spread wide, and her hands unclasped. Her fit form was on full display for her son's eyes. Arms hung lean at her side, and her toned stomach held shadows as it shifted with her breath. The waistline had definitely narrowed since they'd begun, but her hips were still round and womanly. She never had much to lose in the first place. The legs were solid, as they had always been. Her breasts filled the burgundy bra to perfection. Her neck looked long and tempting with thick brown hair hanging a lush backdrop. She held her head high, and when his mom smiled it was a thing of beauty. As always.

"I can hardly believe how far you've come in a handful of weeks. Your hard work and self-discipline has paid off. Come sit with me. I hope you're as proud of yourself as I am of you."

She approached the couch, beaming. When she was close enough, Grant extended his hand and guided her to sit on his lap. He put a hand on the small of her bare back, and smiled up at her. Their noses were less than six inches apart. He could feel her vibrating with excitement.

"Have you always worn such..." He cleared his throat to conceal his excitement and maintain the assertive confident attitude she craved. "...decorative undergarments? So lacy and sexy?"

"No. Before it was granny panties and plain smooth bras."

"Why the change?"

"I've feel like a new woman with a new body... like I'm peeking into a new life. I figured I'd take on a sexier style." The words rang of truth, but hid the fact that she'd had this matching nightwear before the workouts began.

"I think you're right. Are you sure you want to open this lovely new version of yourself to the same old man who never changed? Never stopped looking down on you. Never stopped talking down to you?" He saw a pained look cross Madeline's face. "This is what you came down here to discuss with me," he reminded.

"Yes, love," she said, feather soft. He felt her smooth arm come around his bare shoulders to keep her balanced on his lap in her underwear. "It is. Honestly -- adult to adult, woman to man -- your mother is..." she sighed in the gloom. "...conflicted. For a long long time, I was the one who wanted... you know. And your father was the one turning his back. Now --"

"Now the tables have been turned."

"It's not a fight or a game, Grant. This is my marriage we're talking about here. I don't care about giving or taking advantages here. I know how frustrating rejection from your spouse is. How much it hurts. Doing the same to him doesn't feel good. But I --"

She stared in his eyes as she spoke, and even as her words trailed off she stayed locked on her handsome son.

"You don't want to be physical with him," he finished for her.

Her lips pursed, and she shook her head. "In a way, it helps me be more understanding of his neglect. If you don't want someone, you can't choose to want them."

"No offense Mom, but that's bullshit." Her gray-blue eyes went big. "I mean, sure, there's no point blaming anyone if the fire is fading. But he could have agreed to try. He could have made an effort to be close even if sex wasn't in the cards. He never had to be cruel to a loving, warm and beautiful creature like you. There's, 'I can't help feeling disinterested.' And there is how he has treated you. Don't try to excuse the inexcusable. Don't equate your struggle with his abuse. You deserve better than that."

For a fraction of a second, with his mother's bare thighs sat across his, he thought he would take her. It would be a simple matter to tip her over. That flawless back along the length of the couch. He could pull her long-kept-secret panties free in no time. Kiss her. Stroke her. Spread those hard legs, and fill her with everything she wanted and needed.

Before he could act on the idea, the newly-firm mommy's eyes swelled with tears. Grant's words had pierced and shaken her. She covered her mouth with her free hand, and clutched at his shoulder with the other. Her words floated out from behind the elegant fingers. "What should I do? What do you think?"

The loyal son took a deep breath as he thought. His mind was so overrun with desire, he doubted his own motives. Do I want to tell her this because it's actually what would be best for her, or because it's what I want?

Confident, comforting, assertive. She needs you to be there for her.

"Honestly, Mom, I don't have a clear answer, and I want to give you the best answer I can be sure of. So, here's the best I can do for now." Mother watched her son with the focus of an enraptured student gazing at her teacher. "I need a chance to think this through. Can you give me a day or two?" She nodded. "I want you to promise me."

"I promise, baby."

"Don't let him put his hands on you. At least until we talk again."

"Okay."

"He's ignored your needs for a long time. He can wait." She nodded again, locked onto his face like she was opening a treasure chest. "Are you going to have sex with him before we discuss this again?"

She shook her head, and her hair flew free. "No, Grant, honey. I'll wait for you. I mean, for your thoughts."

The hungry son slid his arms tighter around Madeline's now-waspish waist, and she drew his head to her frilly bra. They held each other like that for a long time. Now is not the time, he reminded himself. She needs to open slowly. Don't ruin this moment. Just enjoy the hug.

Hard not to enjoy with her tits in my face, the retort formed of its own volition. Goddamn, is this bra magic or does she have an amazing chest to go along with those tight legs?

Her breasts always looked great in those workout outfits, so I'm guessing it's not just the bra. She's the full package, inside and out.

Yeah, and she should be mine.

Slow. Go slow. Don't mess this up. Enjoy the hug. She feels amazing in my arms.

When his nearly naked mother released his head, he looked up at her again. With calm assertion he told her, "Each night, we should meet like this to measure how things are going. I mean both your training and the intimacy situation."

She smiled, and nodded, "Sounds good."

"In the meantime, always wear that oversize gown to bed with him."

Her smile broadened. "Yes. Okay."

"And always take it off before coming down here to me."

Her whole body shivered against his. "If you think that's a good idea," her smile spread to show all her brushed teeth.

"Yes. That part I'm sure about. I don't want him seeing you in anything less than that lump on the floor." She giggled at her bulky nightgown piled by the stairs. "And I want you to come to me without it." Another full body shiver of his mother's electrifying shape made him feel slightly dizzy.

She wrapped both arms around his neck and bent to lay her head on his shoulder. Her breathing was jumpy.

"You okay?" He had to ask.

"Oh, yes, sweetheart."

"You feeling good?" She certainly felt good to his hands. "Happy?"

She nodded into his bare shoulder.

He didn't know what to do, so he just held her as long as she wanted his embrace.

After some time, she drew back from his shoulder. Her face was wet and smiling. "Umm...you said we'll meet to measure the intimacy stuff and check progress on the training?"

"Right. I've been thinking about how we check your progress. You know..." He let his left hand clap gently on the exposed side of his mother's buttocks. "This sort of thing."

Her smile shone on. "Yeah."

"I've got an idea. A theory I want to test out. I thought that if I keep my hand there for a few seconds after...um...impact." Mother's and son's smiles both warmed by a few degrees. "I thought that might give me more information. You know. A clearer picture."

She took a calm breath, and spoke in a low tone. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Can't hurt to test it out at least. If you don't find it helpful, we can go back to what we've been doing so far, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, Maddie rose from her son's lap. The proud mother held her body with more confidence than when she'd descended the stairs. She stepped to Grant's side, and then reached down to grab the arm of the couch. She turned to him, and looked at him through a few fallen locks of her dark hair. Her knowing smile glowed. They would both enjoy this.

She bent a little bit forward, and stuck her panty-clad ass out like her son had shown her earlier that day.

"Let's give it a shot, and see what you think of Mommy's... progress."

Her handsome young man sidled up behind her. He put a steadying hand on her hip, and reared back with the other. "Don't overdo it now, Baby. You're just checking how it feels, right?"

He leaned over her so she felt his breath on her ear. "Trust me."

"I do," came out of her in a gasping whisper.

"I will take good care of you." Then he stood upright again. Before she could respond, one of her son's big paws clapped onto the bare side of her ass and held tight. He clutched the side where material did not cover her buns. Was he gently squeezing? Massaging?

The man's hand was gone too quickly for her to tell. Madeline pushed off the couch arm to stand upright. Grant had not backed off. They stood so close that her blood red brazier grazed against her son's bare chest. She was surprised to find herself out of breath.

"So," she choked out. "What do you think, coach?"

Those muscled arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against the body she'd drooled over in secret. She reached around, and held on tight.

His mouth spoke above her left temple. "You are an absolute Venus." Her eyes slid shut, and she snuggled against his broad chest. "And this," he said. Her eyes popped open as her son reached down and took hold of the entire left cheek of her backside. As his grip tightened, she could feel her vagina and her anal ring spread. "This is an ass any woman would kill for." He gave it a firm squeeze, and Madeline felt her crease gush. "My clients would pay an arm and a leg for the result you've achieved." He squeezed her open again. She'd never been manhandled like this by anyone, let alone her son. Her wildest fantasies hadn't anticipated the pleasure Grant triggered in her.

Still holding his mother's ass like he was going to carry her around the house this way, the fitness stud drew his head back to say, "You should be very proud of yourself, Mom."

"Th-thank you, Grant."

"I guess I'll go to bed now." He continued to grope her derriere as he waited for her response. It was a good thing they were hugging because her knees had gone weak.

"Oh." She struggled to give an answer. For the life of her she couldn't think of one. "Umm. Okay then."

"Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, love."

He bent to kiss her goodnight, though with the grip he had on that firm ass, he could have lifted her to kiss him.

He held the kiss longer than usual, but withdrew before it could go anywhere.

She could feel his hand print under the silky fabric of her now-moist panties. She watched him climb the stairs. She thought, With hugs like that...

***

CanaDanny: My dad was a mean drunk, so I may be biased in favor of your idea. I guess that's why you're talking to me, eh? Some people can be pretty sensitive about what you're proposing, though. That's why I suggested this one-one-one chat.

MomsHonestMan: Sure. I'd rather talk privately anyway. Less chance my mom will spot my message and start to suspect. Despite my handle, my idea isn't the most honest way to go about things.

CanaDanny: All's fair in love and war, and your situation sounds like a little of both. Besides, if your mom is active in this community then it's easy to believe you when you say she's eager. But if she's also slow to act, the indirect approach may be best.

MomsHonestMan: Yeah, but I'm worried that the old man won't take the bait; that I'm expecting him to go further than he will really go.

CanaDanny: If he goes all the way, you will be able to jump on it. If he doesn't it's not a loss to anyone. But when a guy in the forums tells me that his father is a rat bastard who doesn't deserve a good beautiful woman like his mom (you are not nearly the first) then I figure that guy's got a father who will take the chance to be up to no good. Or the son is a petulant spoiled little prick destined for a beating. I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt, though.

MomsHonestMan: So, you think it can be done? I'm not sure how to proceed. You know the basics. What do you think?

CanaDanny: Well, the first thing to keep in mind is that a guy like this can be lead along when he feels most in control. His guard is down...

- From a private chat held on the night after Grant & Madeline's first late night meet

***

The next day, Grant awoke alone in the house as he did most Wednesdays. He eased his way into caffeinated wakefulness. Work started after 12:00. He attended the women and men who patronized the gym with focus, and it made the time pass that much more quickly.

He arrived home some time after nine to a warm affectionate greeting from his mother. His father could be heard rumbling around upstairs, getting ready for bed.

"He was less than thrilled about the rice pilaf."