Rocky Mountain High Pt. 02

Five minutes after leaving the lodge, Ryan was asleep. George had done his job - the road was clear. Huge mounds of snow on either side created a white-walled canyon she carefully threaded her way through. They were in town in less than half an hour. Diana felt a wave of relief wash over her as they turned the last corner into Claire's neighbourhood; the low, flat roofline of her daughter's home stood at the end of the cul-de-sac. A moment later she dialed a number Claire had given her into her phone and watched the iron and redwood gate tuck out of the way. As she headed toward the house she was surprised to see that the maintenance company had already cleared the snow from the driveway. She dialed one more code and waited as one of the garage doors slid open. Pulling into the parking bay was like wrapping herself in a warm blanket - she was so glad the last twenty-four hours were behind her. She pressed the ignition switch and leaned her forehead on the steering wheel as the engine came to a stop. The garage door closed behind her to seal off the outside world. Finally there was silence. They were home, safe and sound.

She gave her son's hand a squeeze. "Ryan, Hon, we're home. Time to wake up." He squinted at her in the bright lights of the garage, groggy from the sleep he'd fallen into, far too short a sleep after all of the events of the last day and night.

"Mmm, we're here already? That didn't take long."

"No, it didn't. Especially if you sleep your way through the drive," she smiled. She gave his cheek a gentle stroke. "Sweetheart, you must be exhausted. Let's get our things and go inside."

He pulled the latch and put his shoulder to the door. Still frozen. "Looks like I'll be heading out your way again, Mom." He watched her swing her legs out and stand up. She turned and offered her hand to him. He climbed over the centre console, took her hand and pulled himself up and out of the car. He turned back, leaned in and pressed the hood release switch. Nothing. "I guess we'll just have to wait for it to warm up," he shrugged.

"In the meantime, I hear a glass of wine calling my name," she sighed. Diana pulled a small journal from her purse, leafed through a few pages and found the last set of numbers Claire had given her. She entered them into the keypad beside the door and waited. A few short beeps announced that they were welcome to come in. He held the door open for her and they stepped into the hallway. Lights flicked themselves on as the two of them made their way into the main area of the house.

"Claire has done alright, hasn't she," Diana commented, looking around. "I'm so glad to see how well things have worked out for her." Claire, gifted with her mother's looks, had followed Diana into a successful modeling career. Diana's agency had all the right connections and Claire had all the right talents; it didn't take her long to reach the upper echelons of the world-wide fashion scene and it wouldn't be long before she matched her mother's success. Learning from Diana's experience, Claire bought a home far from prying eyes. It was in a quiet, tightly controlled enclave nestled into the side of the mountain. The modern design was cantilevered into the hillside, walls of glass offering million dollar views across the wide valley. Her parents had pitched in on the purchase; it was still too early in Claire's career for her to be able to afford a property like this yet Diana knew how important it was to have a safe haven. She'd learned the hard way and hadn't given it a second thought when Claire came to her parents, asking for help to buy the place.

Diana kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse onto the console table and collapsed into the deep comfort of the sofa. Ryan draped his jacket over a chair and headed for the wine closet, returning with two glasses of red. She gratefully accepted one. They touched glasses and she moaned with pleasure as the silky liquid crossed her tongue. He stood at the wall of glass and watched the setting sun leave its final touches of gold on the snowy landscape, then turned back, lit the fireplace in the centre of the room and slumped down into the far end of the sofa. She tucked her silk-covered feet under his thigh and nestled down deeper, placing her glass on the floor. She propped her head up on one hand and watched as he took another sip of wine. "It was quite the experience, wasn't it?"

He turned to her, eyebrows raised. "I never knew you had such a talent for understatement, Mom." He nodded, "Yes, it was quite the experience." He slipped his hand down onto her ankle, "Quite the experience."

She pulled her feet up and rested them on his leg. He set his glass down on the low table in front of him, took her feet in his hands and began a gentle massage. "Ohhhh, yes," she moaned, "they've been begging for that." She straightened her legs and stretched, feeling the tension leave her body. He gave her a side-long glance, his eyes tracing the slender curves of her silky long legs, up to where they disappeared under her dress. He slid a hand up her leg, caressing it with his fingertips. She shivered. "Hey, that tickles," she smiled. She sat up and brought her knees to her chin, letting her dress slide up her legs, not caring that he could see the tops of her stockings, nor the oval of satin covering the grooved bulge between her thighs. She sat there for a while, silently staring off into the distance. A few minutes later she shook herself awake again, leaned down and picked up her glass of wine. She took another sip then slumped back into the sofa and began running a slender finger around the rim of the glass, watching the firelight sparkle in the crystal.

"So...Ryan...I think there's a rather large elephant in the room, isn't there, Hon?"

He turned to her and cleared his throat. "Ah, yes...yes, I think you're right. Do you want to...want to talk about it?"

"I don't think we have much choice, do we? We can't pretend it didn't happen. At least, I know I can't."

"Neither can I, believe me."

"Do you regret it?"

"No! No, I don't regret a single thing. In fact, there have been many times that I've imagined us-"

"Yes," she interrupted, "and if we are going to be honest with each other then you need to know I've done the same - for a long time. And I have no regrets either." She set her glass down on the table then slid across the sofa and leaned into him, taking his hand in hers, laying her head on his shoulder. "After all we've been through: your father, the business problems, bodyguards, Claire's wedding - this feels like the first good thing to happen in a long time."

His mind drifted back through the events of the last eighteen months: they'd been a happy family - or so it seemed. Claire's career was skyrocketing, Diana's agency had been signing more A-list talent, Ryan had done a very good job managing and expanding the European side of their cosmetics and clothing business. Everything seemed to be clicking into place. Then it had all come suddenly crashing down. Almost two years ago she had received a call from the NYPD, asking for a meeting, within the hour if possible. Shortly after, two detectives, a young man and older woman, sat across the table from her and proceeded to shatter her world. It seemed her husband had just killed himself, and in a most dramatic way, by jumping from their business jet as it was flying from Milan to London. The flight crew had been lucky to survive the effect of the emergency exit suddenly being opened at that altitude. Search teams on both sides of the channel were now looking for the body. The police made every effort to be sympathetic but at the same time they had to ask some very hard questions about her husband's habits, his business arrangements, her relationship with him - any information that would help them determine why he'd done it.

The case was overseen by Interpol. Once their attention focussed on her husband, agencies on both sides of the Atlantic began to discover his connections with a criminal organization, his embezzlement of business funds, his women on the side, especially young models and actresses hoping for contracts with the agency. It was a disaster, and a monumental task to control the damage, to try to stabilize the family, to try to understand the man she thought she knew. It felt as though nothing in Diana's life had escaped harm.

As if that hadn't been enough, she had attracted another stalker. Shortly after news of the death became public, photographs of her began showing up on the internet, intrusive photos taken as she went about her daily life: coming out of a shop, walking down a street, photos of her apartment building, her car. Then the messages started, messages left with her assistant or posted online, obscene notes left on the windscreen of her car. Once again the police were there, this time suggesting she hire a protection service while they tried to track the culprit down. It hadn't taken long. Through ISP tracking they traced the online activity to an address. They found a possible suspect by sifting through the tenant records of the building but needed time to build a case. The security firm was shown photographs. A few weeks later, her bodyguard took down a man he recognized from the photos. The guy was standing just behind her in a busy office tower lobby. It didn't end well for the stalker. She was relieved but she was too unnerved to cancel the protection contract - at least not right away. She wanted to be sure.

To top it all off, Claire's boyfriend had proposed. Claire was excited and seemed completely in love but Diana thought it was thoroughly bad timing, coming so soon after her father's death, and just as her career was taking off. She held some reservations about the man as well, not entirely sure there weren't some hidden motives. She didn't want Claire to be hurt and yet she didn't want to hurt her daughter by raising too many questions. The wedding plans moved forward. Diana kept her emotions closely guarded through it all, sometimes appearing very cold and distant as she tried to hold all of the pieces together. Inside, she was slowly becoming unhinged and knew she needed help. Ryan and Claire were there for her but she knew they were both dealing with the stress of it all as well. Eventually Claire figured out just how close her mother was to a breaking point and called Ryan. They both insisted she take time off. Finally she agreed to a week at Claire's place after the wedding. Claire hoped it would become a month once she was there.

He brought his arm up around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. "Mom, we've been through a lot. You've been through hell. Anyone else would have crashed and burned a long time ago."

She brought his hand to her lips, kissed it and held it tightly against her chest. "I love you, Ryan. So much." She looked up at him, kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I honestly don't know where I'd be without you." She sat forward, picked up her glass and took another sip of wine, then leaned back against him. They sat there quietly watching the flames dance in the fireplace, watching night fall across the mountains. Lights on the ski runs far across the valley winked on; they could see tiny dots on the slopes, skiers enjoying the fresh powder and the thrill of racing down the steep runs in the semi-darkness. She spoke up. "It's strange isn't it - we've shared these feelings for each other for so long but never knew how the other felt. Or...is it that maybe we did and just needed a push? When I think of last night, I wonder if I was taking advantage of the situation. I do feel I was being a lot more open with you than I would have otherwise."

He thought about it. "Maybe we both realised we were in a situation that could change things. You know - force it out into the open."

"Has it changed the way you think of me?"

"No. Well, yes and no. I mean, you're still that same smart, beautiful woman I've always known. On the other hand, you're a lot more to me now than just my mother. Well, not just my mother but - you know what I mean."

They sat pressed against each other, lost in thought as the room darkened, lit only by the fire. The wine was making Diana drowsy, her eyes falling closed again and again. Ryan was exhausted - he had hardly slept at all in almost thirty-six hours. He rested his head against hers. She sat up, drained her glass and turned to him. "Sweetheart, look at you," she touched his cheek, "you're falling asleep. Come on, it's time for bed." She stood up and took his hand, helping him to his feet.

"I really need a shower first. I'm going to check the car, see if it's thawed out yet." He headed back to the garage, almost stumbling over his own feet from exhaustion. He ducked down into the car, hit the release switch and (finally!) watched the hood lift up. A few minutes later he was wheeling their carry-ons down the hallway leading to the guest rooms. There were two rooms, both with those same walls of glass, the same spectacular views, now illuminated by the moon hanging overhead in a clear night sky. Soft, dim lighting came on as he walked into the room at the end of the hall. He left his bag beside the bed, laid his phone on the charging pad sitting on the desk. There was light coming from under the door to the shared ensuite - the bathroom between the two guest rooms. He tapped on the door. "Mom, are you in there?"

"Yes, Hon. It's alright, come in."

He opened the door. She was standing at the mirror, smoothing facial cream into the dark circles under her eyes. Her dress was undone and hung loosely from her shoulders. "I was wondering if you'd like your bag here in the bathroom or in your room?"

She turned to him, bit her bottom lip and asked quietly, "Are those my only options?"

"Well, ah, no, they don't have to be. I-I just wasn't sure. I didn't want to make any assumptions. Would you - do you want to stay with me?"

"Yes, I do." She leaned back on the edge of the counter. "Ryan, I honestly don't know where this is all leading but one thing I do know is that right here, right now, I want to be with you. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes! Yes, absolutely. I-I was hoping the same thing actually. So, I'll leave your bag in my room then? When you're done, I'll grab a quick shower." He started to close the door.

She stood up and walked over to him. "No. No, you go ahead and have your shower. I'm done here." She held his face in her hands and gave him a gentle kiss. "I'm going to bed."

As Ryan was closing the door he stopped to watch his mother walk across the room, slip her dress from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Her slender back, her long legs, still in those shimmering stockings, her thick hair falling around her shoulders in soft curls - a chill ran up his spine. Wow.

It was a quick shower, just enough to feel reasonably human again. He was so ready for sleep. He towelled dry, grabbed the fresh pair of underwear he'd brought in with him and a moment later was quietly slipping into bed beside her. Half-asleep, she rolled over, snuggled up behind and draped her arm over him. Her fingers touched the waistband of his boxers. She patted his hip, feeling the fabric. "Hey, no fair," she whispered.

He twisted back to her. "Hmm? What do you mean, 'no fair'?"

She pressed her breasts against his back. He realised then that all he could feel was bare skin. "If I'm not wearing anything, it's only fair that you're not either." She tugged at his shorts. He lifted his hips off the bed and helped her pull them off. She spooned her body against his, her arm around him again. "That's better."

-:-

The morning sun reflected off the white mountainside, flooding the bedroom with light. Ryan slowly opened his eyes. It took awhile to figure out where he was, who this other person in the bed was. She still had her arm around him. He wondered if they had changed positions at all in the night. He looked over at the clock on the desk. Ten o'clock. She felt him stir and tightened her arm against his chest. "Good morning, Sweetheart," she whispered.

He held her arm and squeezed it. "Good morning, Mom."

"Feeling better? We slept like the dead last night."

"Yeah, I think so. Although it might take me awhile to wake up."

She nestled in closer to him, pressing her breasts against his back. "I might be able to help you with that," she whispered. Without waiting for an answer, she slid her hand down his chest, down his belly and ended with her long, smooth fingers holding his cock. He twisted around, telling her all she needed to know. She massaged him gently, trying to arouse him. It didn't take long. He moaned quietly as he felt himself getting harder with each stroke of her warm hand. She planted tiny kisses across his shoulder, his chest. His spine tingled as he explored her body, her breasts, feeling their weight, soft and heavy in his hands. Her nipples were erect. She shuddered slightly each time he rubbed his thumbs across them. She rose up onto her elbow and kissed his cheek, then the side of his neck.

In a moment she was on top of him, straddling his legs, his cock pressed tightly between them as she kissed him again and again, each time a little longer, a little harder, a little deeper. She shuffled forward until his face was between her breasts. He took hold of them, squeezed them together, then nuzzled and kissed her nipples. He closed his lips around one and sucked, flicking his tongue around the stiff nub. Her breathing became more laboured. He held her to him, hands exploring her back, her ass. She slipped back down his body; her hair spilled down around their faces and shut out the world around them as they kissed again and again. He lifted his hips off the bed and pushed his hardened cock against her belly.

She sat up, dragging her breasts down his chest as she did. She reached between them, took hold of his erection and guided it between her swollen labia. She stared directly into his eyes as she slowly dropped down, feeling him penetrate her further and further until he was fully inside her. His scalp tingled at the thought of once again fucking his own mother. He felt her vagina surround his cock. She was wet - hot and slick, ready. Eyes closed, mouth taut, she ground her hips down hard, filling herself with him, tightening her pelvic muscles around him to hold him deeply inside herself. "Oh my god, Ryan, you have no idea how good this feels," she murmured. She put her burning-hot hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to lift her hips, to let him slide slowly out of her - almost completely - then down again to take his shaft deeply, impaling herself on him.

She half-opened her eyes as she began a slow, steady motion up and down on him, each time sitting down heavily to force all of his cock into herself. He could feel her body shaking. Within minutes she was panting loudly as she rode him, sitting up straight, holding his hands to her breasts. "Oh god, Ryan, yes," she moaned, "oh yes." Now she was putting all her weight on him, rocking her hips, rubbing her clit against his shaft. "Oh! I'm cumming, Ryan. Oh!" She dug her fingernails into his chest as it took hold of her. He watched her gasp and then bite her bottom lip, her eyes closed tightly. She collapsed down onto him as the orgasm raced through her, hips rocking urgently against his groin, extending her climax.

He quickly followed. He lifted his hips off the bed, pushed his cock in deep and sent stream after stream of cum into her. He grunted loudly with each spasm, his knees shaking as he held her up off the bed, his hands on her hips, pushing her down onto his cock. He felt her body shudder each time he drove himself up into her, filling her with his seed. Then, just as he thought it was over, she arched her back and cried out. Her body flinched and a stream of her own sprayed onto his belly.