Of Mothers and Milfs Pt. 01

"Now, everyone make a frame position with your partner." He and Alina walked among them and made minor corrections here and there. Emil stopped at Amy and Charlie and adjusted their hand position. "Relax, Mr. Deming, you look like you're made of concrete." Charlie grinned uncomfortably.

"Good," Emil said, stepping back. "Now the first step we're going to do is the box step, a foundational step for the waltz. Alina and I will demonstrate it and then we will break it down for you."

In addition to the box step, which kept the dancers in essentially the same place, over the next hour and a half Alina and Emil introduced five additional steps that enabled them to move around the dance floor in various patterns.

"I know that's a lot to take in for your first lesson," Emil said as the class drew to a close. "Don't worry about remembering it all, we'll spend the next couple of classes practicing these steps and learning how to do various sequences of them. To finish up, Alina and I will perform a short waltz for you using just these steps."

With that, they began a slow waltz. Their movements together were elegant and beautiful; they seemed to flow effortlessly around the dance floor as if they were floating. They danced as one, with a deeply romantic and sensuous quality. Everyone watched with rapt attention, knowing they would likely never be able to achieve such artistry. Charlie and Walt couldn't take their eyes off Alina as her alluring shape floated beneath the clinging silk of her trousers. Amy and Emily couldn't help but notice their sons' rapt attention to her.

The Romanian couple came to a halt.

"That's it for tonight," Emil said. "But we have a homework assignment for you. We want you and your partner to get used to moving together. Spend some time each day just moving around together holding your frame. Practice the leader's movement cues and the follower's responses that we showed you tonight. Get to know each other's bodies and how they move. Good luck and we'll see you on Wednesday."

* * *

Walt slept late the next morning. When he got up around nine and went downstairs to the kitchen, he found Emily sitting at the island with her laptop and a cup of coffee.

"Hi Mom," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Morning Dear...I'm going to make some scrambled eggs; would you like some?"

"Yes, I would, but I want you to stay where you are—I'm going to make breakfast for us."

Emily looked at him quizzically. "You want to make breakfast?"

"I do, Mom...and more." He walked to the refrigerator and rooted around for the eggs. He found them and brought them to the counter where he stood looking at them.

"Ummm...Mom...will you show me how?"

Emily got up and came to the counter with a bemused look on her face. "Low and slow is the trick for scrambled eggs if you want them creamy and delicious. It takes some patience."

Ten minutes later they sat down at the island with their beautifully-done eggs and browned breakfast sausages.

"These are delicious, Walt."

"Thanks, Mom. It was your coaching."

"And your execution. Tell me...what did you mean by 'and more'?"

Walt smiled at her while finishing a bite of eggs. "Well...I'm going to give you a vacation."

"A vacation? I'm already on vacation."

"Not from all the work you do around here. I want you to teach me to cook so I can take over some of that. And...I know you want to start working on your fall lectures, so for the time being I'm going to relieve you of as much household drudgery as I can— cleaning the house, doing the laundry, shopping, and whatever else needs to be done."

"Oh, Walt..." Emily said softly. 'You don't—"

"I know I don't, but I want to...I want to do it for you. Because I love you. And I want to thank you. And I want to give something back..." Walt's voice faltered and stopped.

Emily looked at him, her eyes moist. She stood up and came to him and Walt stood up to receive her embrace. "My hero...I love you."

"I love you too, Mom," he said and they stood holding each other tightly.

"Mom," Walt said finally, stepping back. "I'm going to take care of these dishes and after that..." Walt took hold of her in the frame position. "We're going to get going on our homework assignment and dance around the house."

Walt put the last dish away and came to Emily. He took her hand and she slipped off her chair into his arms. He held her in a stiff frame, looking into her eyes and without a word stepped back with one foot and she followed. For a while he simple walked with longer than normal steps, changing direction with a turning box step when necessary. Their movements were awkward and ill-matched at first as Walt concentrated on making recognizable signals, and Emily on recognizing them. They frequently bumped together or moved in opposition, causing a fair amount of laughter between them.

Eventually Walt reduced his movements to the simplest ones and they settled into a slow, comfortable, ambulatory embrace. Soon Emily closed her eyes and found her mind drifting into a misty state of peace and contentment. She felt enclosed and protected by strong arms, loving arms. Without realizing she was doing so, Emily moved closer into Walt's embrace and laid her head on her son's shoulder. They danced in silence, their bodies communicating, learning from each other, trusting each other.

* * *

While Emily and Walt danced, Amy and Charlie were sitting at the table under the trees near the swimming pool. Both were perusing the internet on their laptops and occasionally shared interesting or humorous tidbits.

Amy eventually sat back and looked at Charlie. "I think it's time to start going to a gym,"

Charlie looked up. "That's a good idea, Mom, I think we should."

"Good. I've been looking at some online. Come over here and take a look—you know a lot more about this than I do."

They spent the next half-hour browsing the websites of available gyms.

"Let's make a short-list and go visit them," Charlie suggested and they soon had a list of four gyms.

"Let's go," Amy said, getting up.

"Last one on list," Charlie said, as they pulled into the parking lot of the Euglena Valley Ice Skating Center, a large regional figure skating and hockey hub on the outskirts of town in which the Wonder Fitness Center was located. The first three gyms they visited had their plusses and minuses but Amy and Charlie were not overly impressed by any of them. The Valley Fitness Center was located on a second floor that ran down the middle of the building from front to back. Amy and Charlie instantly liked it. It was not huge and didn't have an impersonal feel like the others they had visited. It was spacious enough, but had a more intimate feel to it and was well-equipped and not at all crowded. They were amazed to find that there were large windows along both sides of the lengthy room that overlooked on one side an Olympic-size skating rink where figure skaters were training and a rink on the other side devoted to ice hockey. The staff was friendly and helpful and the people working out seemed to largely know each other.

After they were given a tour of the facilities, Amy turned to Charlie. "This is it; let's do it."

"Next stop," Amy said after the paperwork was completed, "Iron Tim's Sporting Goods. I need some workout clothes."

Charlie quickly found what he wanted in Iron Tim's, two pair of new gym shorts, then went in search of Amy. For the next half-hour he dutifully followed her as she looked at numerous sports bras, leggings, and shorts, holding them up asking him what he thought. "It's fine, Mom," he said every time, except for one pair of shorts that he thought much too short. It was hard for Amy to make a decision because she couldn't try anything on. She finally bought two matched sets of sport bras, leggings, and shorts, though with some trepidation.

They returned to the Ice Skating Center late in the afternoon. There were a few more people working out than in the morning but it still wasn't very crowded. Walt changed quickly in the locker room then walked around looking at the equipment and thinking about a good workout routine for his mother.

"Hey, Charlie," a familiar voice said. He looked up to see his teammate Roberto.

"Hey man," he said shaking Roberto's hand. "Congratulations. All-state second team—that's pretty impressive."

"Thanks, dude, you should have made it too."

Charlie laughed. "Are you kidding? Who's your friend here," he asked, looking at a young man he didn't know.

"He's Serge, my cousin."

"Hey Serge."

"Hey."

Just then, Charlie saw Amy emerge from the women's locker room. Jesus he thought to himself...Jesus! Amy was wearing powder-blue leggings and a matching sports bra and revealed an expanse of bare midriff. She had apparently underestimated how form-fitting the leggings were and how the sports bra flattered her nicely-shaped breasts. There was little left to the imagination as to the shape of her body, especially from the back.

"God that woman's hot," moaned Serge. "How'd you like to—"

A hard punch to his arm from Roberto stopped him in midsentence. "Shut up, dumb ass, that's his mother."

Serge stared at the ground as Amy walked up to them. "Hi, Roberto," she said smiling. 'How are you?"

"Good, Ma'am, nice to see you."

Amy and Charlie spent the rest of the afternoon in the fitness center. Charlie showed her how to use the Nautilus machines and free weights and designed a preliminary workout routine for her.

"Oh, that did me in," Amy moaned on the way home. 'I need a glass of wine."

Not wanting to cook, she ordered in Chinese for dinner. They ate at the picnic table on the patio and after dinner moved to comfortable deck chairs. They sat enjoying the beautiful evening.

"Hey, Mom," Charlie said. "We need to do our dance homework."

"Now? Can't we just relax, Honey?"

"No," Charlie said. "May I have this dance?"

Amy took his extended hand and stood up. Charlie tried to assume a proper frame and began to slowly move with her. Like Walt and Emily, they were awkward at first but eventually started to get the hang of it.

As they danced, the sun reached the horizon, ushering in twilight. The beauty of the night and peacefulness of the closing of the day they had enjoyed together seemed to heighten their emotions and their embrace became closer. Charlie held her in his arms and his mind went back to how she had looked at the fitness center, in her leggings and sports bra, and how it was not just his friends who appreciated the view. Then the sight of her in the pool with her breasts accidently bared flashed into his mind, followed by the sound of the orgasm he had heard from outside her bedroom door.

With an alarmed start, Charlie suddenly realized he was well on his way to a full erection. He stiffened and quickly stepped back. "I gotta go, Mom," he said and turned away and hurried off.

Amy watched him go, perplexed by his abrupt departure. He returned in a few minutes however and took her in his arms again. But it was different now. Charlie seemed tense and stiff and much of their physical connection was gone. She lay in bed later that night, still puzzled by this and a bit worried about it. She replayed it in her mind trying to make sense of it. Suddenly she started with surprise...she seemed to recall now that she had felt some change in their contact...some new pressure on her thigh...then Charlie was gone.

My god... did Charlie have an erection?

* * *

Emily sat in the garden swing under the elm tree, sipping coffee and enjoying the beautiful summer morning. Walt had left early to go somewhere with Charlie and she was happy to spend some time alone with her thoughts.

The time since Walt's graduation from high school seemed like a whirlwind of change to her, all driven by Walt, and it was clear that all of it was devoted to her well-being. Just thinking about it took her breath away.

Walt was doing all of the housework, errands, and whatever else needed to be done around the house, refusing to let her do any of it. He did most of the cooking now, after Emily taught him some basic skills and how to cook some of their favorite dishes. After learning how her clothes should be washed and handled afterward, he refused to let her fold them or hang them up, insisting on doing it himself. And he did it all tirelessly, and well. What eighteen-year old boy voluntarily takes on all the responsibility for housework, cooking and everything else, she mused to herself.

And then there were the exciting things, the new adventures Walt had insisted they seek out. And they were to be her ideas, not his. Taking ballroom dancing lessons was of course Amy's desire, but she embraced it as something she would enjoy, and more importantly, something they could all do together. She had suggested taking a drawing class, something that she had wanted to do for many years but had never had the time.

Emily sat gazing at the blue sky and puffy white clouds floating by, feeling peaceful and content. She realized she was happier than she had been since Jim died, and that the pains of the past seemed to be fading, at least a little. And she knew that it was Walt who was leading her out of her self-imposed exile from a full embrace of life. It was as if he were not her son, but her caregiver and healer. What eighteen-year old boy comes to understand the invisible chains shackling someone to the past and takes it upon himself to break them?

To Emily, her time together with Walt was wonderful and she had rapidly grown to cherish it. She felt loved, secure, and safe in his care. As she watched the peaceful drifting clouds, she realized that her perception of Walt as a boy was rapidly fading away and being replaced with that of an adult and that their relationship was changing as well. He seemed less like a son and more like a mature caring companion. And she saw now that his love for her and his devotion to her welfare seemed to meld with his, to her, handsome youthful appearance, giving him an appealing male vitality beyond his years. She was a bit unnerved by this appeal and reluctant to acknowledge it's full implications.

Emily heard the back door open and saw Walt emerge from the house. As he walked up to her, she rose from the swing and held out a hand to him.

"Dance with me," she said, her eyes smiling.

* * *

"That was fascinating," Walt said as he and Emily gathered up their pencils and sketch books at the end of their first drawing class. "I knew that the left and right hemispheres are different but I had no idea they were almost totally different brains. Wow."

"Indeed," replied Emily, "But this drawing on the right side of the brain method is fascinating. I really liked the exercises for getting into the right brain state."

"Me too, but I had trouble getting my left brain to butt out...it was acting like a domineering asshole who thought it was the only one who could draw," Walt said, laughing.

They had learned that afternoon that the left hemisphere of the human brain is specialized for speech, language, logic, and analysis, while the right hemisphere is specialized for perceiving and processing visual information and seeing visual patterns and relationships. The right brain perceives information in a way that enables drawing, while the left brain perceives information in a way that interferes with it. The key to learning to draw, their instructor, Delila Wood, emphasized, is to learn how to shut down the overbearing left hemisphere of the brain and let the right one take over.

After dinner that evening, Emily and Walt sat at the table doing the homework assignment the instructor had given them—draw pictures of someone's head, your hand, a chair, and a person without using anyone as a model. Disregard everything you've learned in class today, she instructed, just draw as you have in the past.

When Emily and Walt were done, they spread the sketches side-by-side in front of them.

"These are awful," Emily said. "They look like they were drawn by third graders, as Mrs. Wood predicted."

"Yeah, the left brain drew these." Walt said. "All it knows how to do is to use schematic symbols for things—the eye a kind of oval with a dark blob in the middle and short lines sticking up and down for eye lashes."

"None of this is what our eyes actually see, the shapes, lines, shadings, empty spaces...I think I'm going to really enjoy learning how to draw properly," said Emily.

"Me too. I understand why past students told her they didn't realize how much there is to see and how beautiful things are when you really see them, and how this ability makes life seem so much richer."

Emily smiled. "As Mrs. Wood said—the ten-thousand things around us, as the Chinese say."

"The ten-thousand beautiful things," Walt said, putting an arm around her.

* * *

Sophie Lovinescu looked up and smiled. "Hello, it's good to see you again."

Amy, Emily, Charlie and Walt smiled and returned the greeting.

"You're the first ones here again. You can go on back and have some coffee or tea until the others arrive."

Alina was in the pantry and she greeted them with "hello" and a radiant smile. She looked even more beautiful to Charlie and Walt than the first time they saw her.

'Ready for round two?" she asked.

"Very much," replied Amy. "What are we going to be doing today?"

"It should be easier for you than the first lesson. First, you'll practice the steps you learned last time and Emil and I will work with you to improve them. After the break, we'll introduce several different waltz sequences. You'll begin to see the endless waltz variations that you yourself can create."

"Wow," Charlie said. "You're going to turn us into choreographers, huh?"

Alina looked at him with a mischievous grin. "Well, we're going to try...but you know, we're not always successful."

Soon the others arrived and Emil began the class. He started by having the couples perform the basic steps from the first lesson while he and Alina moved among them separately giving them feedback and suggestions. The first to come to Amy and Charlie was Emil. He looked at Amy and smiled.

"You're progressing very well, Ms. Deming, and I think you're showing signs of real talent. Your command of the steps is tentative, of course you've only had one lesson, but they are very good for a beginner, reasonably well-executed and fluid. Also, I think you'll be happy with what Alina has to say. Keep up the good work."

Emil turned to Charlie and looked at him without speaking, as if pondering what to say. Then he smiled.

"Are you an athlete, Mr. Deming?".

"Uh...yeah...football and baseball in high school."

"I thought so. Have you ever watched Dancing with the Stars?"

"Sure...I've watched it with Mom a few times."

"You might have seen that a number of professional athletes have done very well on the show, winning the trophy a surprising number of times."

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

Well...Charlie, I think you may have the same sort of natural physical abilities that enabled them to excel...but..."

Charlie waited, a little anxious.

"I think you're holding yourself back. Remember when I said you were dancing like you were made of concrete?"

"Yes." Charlie said meekly.

"It seems like you're afraid to commit yourself to the dance...that you can't let yourself express your emotions through your dancing...or your connection with your partner. So you end up looking mechanical, emotionless." He paused and looked sympathetically at Charlie. "Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Good. Charlie, I want you to think about it...think about what's holding you back and how to overcome it. Once you do that, I think you'll start to show everyone here how good a dancer you can be."