Show Me HowbySultrySouth©
My grandmother bequeathed me her nice little two bedroom home in a suburb of Raleigh. I couldn't get out of Charlotte fast enough. I had only been out of college for a year and had been lucky enough to land a spot upon graduation in a very large bank's management program. I had no trouble getting a transfer to a location that would allow me to live in grandma's old house and commute to work.
Things were starting to get hectic in my family's home in Charlotte. My father was in charge of the finances for one of the largest mega-churches in the south. A few months after I graduated college, men from the state's Attorney General's Office and the FBI started calling, paying visits to the church and even our home. It seems as if the pastor had been cooking the books, with my father's full cooperation. When my grandma passed and I was given the house, my dad insisted I sell it for the money and stay in Charlotte. My mother took me aside and said if I wanted the house, I should keep it. It was her mother who had died and it was my mother's childhood home I inherited.
I should say I never got along with my father. He became involved in that church when I was very young. It was his whole life. His family was really an afterthought. The church pastor was intensely charismatic. My father worshipped him more than the God the church supposedly was dedicated to. My father took no interest in the fact I was a straight A student or that I was a state champion amateur boxer. Only when I could be used as a prop to glorify himself in the eyes of the pastor, would he attempt to act the caring father.
My mother met my father at a church camp when they were in high school. They were both counselors. He was everything a southern girl from a strict Baptist family would want; a young man, apprenticed to his father's accounting firm, a good Christian from a respectable family. .. She couldn't say no when he proposed the night they graduated high school. They married that summer and by the fall, she was pregnant with me, her only child.
She really should have gone to college. She's much too smart, funny and vivacious to be a cookie cutter proper church wife. I get my athleticism, lust for life and general vibrancy from her. My father was a nebbish lackey, a born bootlicker. He and I couldn't be more different. My mother's married life was a constant struggle to suppress the fun and free woman she truly was in order to fit the mold of the important church official's spouse. She'd stifle a giggle while her peers would gasp in shock at a dirty joke. If a sexual situation appeared on the television, she'd hold the remote and keep it on the screen juuuust a bit longer than she could have before turning the channel.
My mother is really very attractive. Her marriage was the classic southern union based on family and social expectations and not the mutual attraction of physically and mentally compatible individuals. While my father is slight and slump-shouldered, my mother carried herself as the beautiful specimen she knew deep down she was. She understood too well her Christian duty as a wife was to be subservient to her twinkish husband. She was 5'5", brunette, walked with perfect posture that only enhanced her full c-cup breasts. She never wore anything revealing in public but you can only keep that kind of body only hidden to a point.
After a six month investigation, my father and the pastor plead guilty to federal fraud charges. My father was given a 15 year sentence while the pastor got 20. Of course, all of my father's assets were confiscated, including the house. As soon as I heard, I drove to Charlotte and brought my mom back to live with me in Raleigh. She literally had one suitcase worth of cloths. The feds took everything. My mom protested against staying with me, trying to argue how she would be a burden, etc., etc. I was having none of it. She was now a pariah in the only social circles she ever knew. She had no where to go and I loved her with all my heart. I convinced her to start life anew at age 42, back in the house she grew up in.
My place was ready for her to move in. When I first moved in, I had admittedly overspent by getting a king size bed for the master bedroom, a new living room set and a modern, extra-large tub for the master bath. I gave my mom the master bedroom while I took the single bed in the second bedroom.
She was understandably despondent for the first few weeks, having gone through the trauma of the investigation, the humiliation of the conviction and then the loss of the world she had known for all her adult life. I would come home from work and find her hurriedly trying to put herself together so I wouldn't know she had been crying all day. My heart broke for her and I would instinctively wrap my arms around her. This would start her crying all over again. She would only say, 'What am I gonna do, baby? What am I gonna do?' (She never called me by my name, always baby. She would only call me 'baby' and no one else. She referred to my father as 'Herbert'.)
I would gently 'shushhh' her and tell her everything is all right. It killed me to not see the light in her eyes. I knew her depression would only deepen if she sat around the house all day with nothing to do but watch tv and make my dinner. (Something she insisted on and which I did not complain about.) I thought she should at least take a class. I gave her a couple catalogs from local community colleges. She decided to work towards getting a nursing degree.
And so my mother slowly re-blossomed into the woman I knew in happier times. She took 2 classes a day during the week. She would come home, do her homework and have dinner ready by the time I came home. I had never stopped holding her, only now I did it when I came home and she'd run into my arms with a smile on her face. She was so eager to tell me about her day and ask me about mine. Seeing her excited about life made me so happy.
When I had interned for a bank's corporate office while in college, one of the vice presidents I worked for had gotten me into wine drinking. He was a connoisseur of the stuff and taught me some of the finer points of recognizing a good vintage. I had gotten into the practice of enjoying a glass or two after dinner, even before my mom moved in. Soon I had her enjoying a glass along with me. At first, she got tipsy very quickly, never having drank before. She would have a glass and be asleep 20 minutes later. It wasn't too long though before she was a delightful drinking companion.
One evening we were enjoying an after dinner glass when my cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. I looked down and read the text message from an ex-girlfriend. My mom said, 'Oh, who's that?'
'Just an ex.' I replied, 'She's looking for a booty call.'
My mom wrinkled her cute nose, 'What's a booty call.'
I decided to shake up her conservative sensibilities and have some fun, 'A booty call is when you ask a friend to get together for some.... you know.' I answered with a wink and a smile.
'You're joking, baby. That was not a booty call.' She smirked at me.
But indeed it was. I brought up the message and handed mom the phone. It read:
I miss all the ORGASMS you give me! Call me! <3 Karen.
My mother's face turned a deep red and her mouth dropped open. She didn't give me the lecture on dating 'whores' as I half-feared she would. Instead she was more curious as to the kind of relationships I had with this woman.
'Well mom, we saw each other just a few times, about a month or so before you came to Raleigh. I told her I wasn't interested in getting serious because I knew you would be moving in. And with the time I want to spend with you and my work, there wouldn't be room for a relationship.'
'Oh baby, I'm sorry...'
'No,' I interrupted her, 'I want nothing more than to be with you right now. I love you more than anyone in the world'
She smiled at me with a glint of moisture in her eyes, 'Thanks baby. Sooooo.. how did you get so good at giving orgasms?'
'Do you remember when I dated Kendra when I was a senior in high school? She stayed a virgin that whole year we were together. It was so important she save herself for marriage. '
'Good girl, sounds like your mother.' she teased.
'Yeah, well she was burning with sexual urges none the less. She loved my hands down her pants. Even better, she loved me licking her down there. I did it for hours. I really perfected my technique with her. She still tries to get together with me even though she's married with a kid.'
I suddenly felt panic shoot through me as I realized what just came out of my mouth. My mother was looking down at her second, almost gone, glass of chardonnay. She shook her head and giggle.
'I guess my baby wasn't the angel I though he was.'
'Aww, c'mon mom', glad she hadn't stormed out of the room in disgust, ' you remember being that age.'
'Yes, but I didn't have someone like you in my life, baby. Truth is, I've never had an orgasm.'
I acted surprised but I always suspected this to be the truth. My father never struck me as being the 'attentive lover' type. Certainly masturbation would have been taboo amongst the women of her church-centered social group.
'Are you against exploring your sexual side? You're still a young, healthy and beautiful woman. You're missing out on one of life's best gifts.'
She smiled down at her wine and admitted, 'There's a young woman I go to school with. She reads all those trashy women's magazines. She'll let me borrow them and I'll occasionally read the sex advice articles. I swear, I don't even understand half the things they're talking about.'
'Mom.... Have you ever, uh.... masturbated?'
She would have been perfectly right to tell me this conversation had drifted out of bounds and then excused herself for the night. It was obvious to me; she had yearned to have this conversation for a while, maybe for years.
'Honestly,' she looked at me with an embarrassed smile, then back down to her glass, 'I wouldn't even know how to do it.'
'Mom, you have to let me help you. I can teach you.'
'Oh baby, I don't know....'
'Tell you what, think about it. Then tomorrow night, if you want, I'll lay out my plan.'
She laughed out loud. 'A plan, huh? You're just a regular love master, aren't you, baby?'
'I just love you, mom. You're the most important person in the world to me. It's time you bloom into the complete woman you were meant to be.'
At this point, I was not thinking of bedding my mom. I was truly saddened by her repressed life up until now. I wanted only the best for her. That included indulging in the pleasures her body held hidden, waiting to be discovered. It didn't occur to me at that moment how this 'education' could find us in a very touchy situation. She finished her wine then came over to me as I stood up to go to my bedroom. She put her arms around me and we just held each other tight, in silence, for two minutes. She raised herself on her tip toes and kissed my cheek.
She whispered, 'I love you, baby. Thank you for everything. You can never understand what you mean to me.', then walk upstairs to her room.
The next evening, dinner was pleasant. We talked about her classes and I talked about work. We had a nice moscato with the meal. A bit sweet for my taste, but I knew she'd like it. We retired to the living room. After sitting through an 8pm comedy she enjoys, I turned off the tv and faced her.
'So, have you considered my offer?'
She placed her fingers to her chest, lowered her chin and in her best southern belle voice said, 'Why, baby, whatever do you mean?'
'Now young lady, you know exactly what I mean.'
'I just want to hear this 'plan' of yours.' She smiled, 'I'm not promising I'll take you up on it though.'
'Fair enough, beautiful. You just keep your seat and wait here.'
I got up and jogged out to my car. I had been able to take a half day off from work and I used it go on a mini shopping spree. I came back in with two large sacks of presents. Mom was completely surprised.
'Baby! What is all this?'
'In order for us to accomplish this mission, you need to open up a side of you that has been closed your whole life. I'm thinking in about a week you'll be ready to masturbate. Between now and then, this stuff is going to help prepare your body and your mind.'
She put her hand over her open mouth, looked at the packages, looked at me, then just shook her head and laughed.
I first presented her with the candles and special 'sensual' bubble bath. 'You have that new, giant bathtub up there. I want you to take a bubble bath in the candlelight every evening after dinner. You need to become more open to pleasures of the senses.'
She took the bubble bath container, read the label and nodded her head.
Next I gave her a book on the female orgasm. I have a 'friend-with-benefits' who works at a female oriented sex shop. She recommended the book for a beginner. It had diagrams of the female anatomy and good explanations on the physiology behind the orgasm. I didn't mention it was for my mother, of course. I just told her I needed to brush up on my own skills with the ladies.
'Uh-huh,' she smirked, 'we both know you don't need any brushing up.'
'So mom, I don't want you trying any of the techniques they describe yet. Just get familiar where things are located and how to approach masturbating when we're ready.'
She flipped through a few pages with wide eyes and half whispered, 'Oh my.'
Next, I gave her 14 pairs of matching silk bra and pantie sets. I hand-picked them myself.
'I want you to wear these during the day, when you go to school, when you're shopping, making dinner. Caress yourself with silk all day long.' She rubbed the silk between her fingers. 'You are unbelievable, baby.'
Finally, I gave her the present I was most excited about, two 100% silk robes. One was red and the other ivory. They were conservative enough to reach her ankles when she wore it, but I had a condition.
'I want you to wear these, and ONLY these, after your bath each night.'
She normally spent the evening in whatever she wore that day, usually a frumpy blouse and jeans. And where did she get those jeans? They must have been popular with her church circle, because they were cut in a way that voided all sexiness.
'And when you go to bed, I need you to sleep in the nude, every night.'
'Baby, I appreciate all this. I really do. And since you went to all this effort and spent all this money, I will give it a shot. But it's kind of unfair that I have to be naked under a robe every night while you sit here fully clothed.'
'Mom, say no more. I was always the nude guy in a robe before you moved in. I'm gonna love being that guy again.'
She got up and gave me a long, warm hug we held for at least 3 or 4 minutes. Then she whispered,
'This is all kind of weird, don't you think? You are my son after all. Should we be so concerned with masturbating and orgasm?'
'I love you, mom. I have been waiting to take you away from that perverse church society for years. You can trust me. I will never hurt you. This is an important part of life. You need a guide who will only have your interest, your heart, your faith as his priority. There's no one like that on earth but me. We are together now, the time is right.'
I kissed her on the lips, softly. It lasted about ten seconds. It felt right, it felt perfect. When we parted, she buried her face in my chest and squeezed me. She took a long, deep breath through her nose then said, 'I love you so much, baby.'
The way our schedules fell, I never saw her in the morning. The next evening, I walked in the door and she threw herself into my arms for our end-of-day embrace. Dinner couldn't have been more typical. We listened to each other and laughed at the days stories. The whole time though, all I could think about was 'Is she wearing that silk underwear?' and 'Did she read about touching herself?' I kept that all to myself. Dinnertime conversation was an important part of the day for her. If I interjected our sexual experiment into it, I risked ruining everything.
After dinner, I began to open a new bottle of wine I had just brought home as she was washing the dishes.
'Oooo... what kind did you get baby?'
'It's a surprise. You'll find out AFTER your bath. In fact, I'm going to draw it for you while you finish washing up.'
I grabbed a glass and took the bottle upstairs. I lit several candles all around the tub. I ran the water just hot enough so the aches and pains of the day would melt away. The bubble bath fragrance was intoxicating. If it was anyone else but my mom, I would have said, 'screw it' and gotten in myself. Finally, when the bath was ready, I poured a glass of a wonderful rare vintage I considered my all-time favorite and set it on the tub's edge.
I came downstairs as mom was wiping down the table. I walked up behind her, grabbed her by the shoulders, kissed her behind the ear and said, 'Your bath awaits.' She spun around, tossed the wash rag at me. Then with a sultry smile and an exaggerated flip of her hair, she turned and headed up the stairs. I called after her, 'Which robe are you wearing tonight?'
She replied, 'Speaking of that, you'd better be in one yourself when I come down.'
'No problem there,' I thought to myself. When I heard her bedroom door close, I raced up to my shower. When I was sufficiently clean, I sprayed on a slight bit of cologne I've never failed with. I then donned one of my favorite black silk robes and went downstairs to wait.
It felt good to be so free in my house again. At the same time, I felt a little nervous, even a tinge of panic over my immodest state. I had never felt that before. I dimmed the lights a good bit.
I was flipping through the television channels and I didn't hear mom walk down the stairs.
'What's with the romantic lighting'?
I turned my head just as she stepped off the final stair. I was amazed. I had never seen her look more beautiful. She had chosen the ivory robe. Her hair was done up in a bun, which accentuated the naked skin exposed from her neck to her chest where the robe closed. Her breasts were full and irresistible. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Not only were her breast lower than I had ever noticed, but her nipples poked through outrageously. The most striking feature of her appearance though was the glow of her face. It stemmed from a combination of happiness, confidence, self-discovery, slight embarrassment and love. I just fell in total and complete love with the woman there. She could have passed for an angel.
'Oh my God, you are gorgeous.'
I had planned on complementing her for the next week as a way to promote her sexual self-confidence. It was now apparent I wouldn't need to tie a string on my finger to remind myself to praise her.
'I... uh... you are unbelievably attractive, mom. I had no idea.'
She smiled and put her face down. 'You need to stop.'
Even in the dimmed light, I could see she was blushing.
I turned off the tv and stood up. 'Have a seat, mom. I'll get you another glass of wine. '
'Oh yes, that one you brought home today is delicious.' She put her hand on her hip and looked me up and down when I stood up. 'Speaking of gorgeous, look at you in that little thing. Your sexy chest all exposed and your strong legs as well.'
I laughed as I went to the kitchen but actually it was my turn to blush. This had turned from day one of mother's education to the hottest first date of my life. I came back with two glasses and the rest of the bottle. I sat next to her on the loveseat. Normally I take the lounge chair during our evenings at home. 'So tell me about day one of our experiment.'
She took a long, deep drink. 'Well, I decided to go with the black bra and pantie combination you bought. It felt really strange at first. I definitely didn't feel as secure and held together, let's say, as I normally do. By about noon, I really started to enjoy the feeling. By 3pm, I swore I'd never wear anything else. '