The Good Mom Ch. 02

At dinner that evening conversation was stilted. The argument they had had that morning was still fresh in their memories and both were feeling more than a little guilty: Emily because she had imagined her son fucking her while she masturbated and Richard because he had watched his mother masturbate.

“I saw the trash in the driveway,” Emily decided to steer the conversation way from anything controversial.

“I made a start on cleaning out the attic. I figure I’ll haul the trash down the dump and anything that looks like it might have value I’ll put aside and with your blessing I’ll take it to an antique dealer or sell it to a pawn shop,” Richard said around a forkful of lasagne.

“There is nothing up there I want Richard. Trash it or sell it for all I care. I just don’t want that trash heap getting any bigger. It’s an eyesore,” his mother pointed her fork at him.

This would have been the perfect situation to ask his mother about the pussycat tapes but now that he suspected that there may be footage of his mother and her friends in their younger days he decided to keep schtum.

“I’ll borrow a trailer from our agricultural dealership tomorrow and get rid of it,” Richard didn’t want to start another fight.

His plan had been to pile up the trash until the attic was empty and then arrange for a skip to take all of it away but his mother’s insistence on him removing the trash pile each day meant that there would be no visible sign of his progress unless she came up into the attic to look and that was unlikely.

“Good boy Richard and thank you for undertaking that odorous task for me, I do appreciate it,” Emily leaned across and patted her son’s hand and Richard smiled at her.

“But don’t let that task deter you from sorting out things between Victoria and yourself,” she added.

Having vigorously fucked Melissa Mitchum and masturbated whilst watching his mother use her vibrator Richard didn’t bother going into his wardrobe to watch his mother undress. He was well and truly sated and slept the sleep of the innocent whilst dreaming carnally of his mother.

The next morning Emily was up before Richard once again and dressed for work when he came down for breakfast. She was wearing another skirt-suit. Richard knew she had an almost endless supply of them and she always wore them for work. This time it was bone coloured and the skirt seemed a little shorter than the others she had worn. Her nylons were smoky-grey and shimmery and when his mother stretched up to put away the cereal on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard Richard caught a glimpse of pristine white panty. Her heels were also white and as usual her makeup was heavy but perfect.

Richard’s eyes roamed over his mother’s breasts, ass and legs; he couldn’t stop himself. He kept conjuring up a mind-picture of her lying on the bed dressed in her violet suit, skirt hitched up, panties around her ankles, pantyhose shucked down her thighs with a look of bliss on her face as she pleasured herself with the vibrator.

Emily felt her son’s eyes on her and she recalled watching the erection grow in his bathing suit yesterday afternoon when he stood at the edge of the swimming pool staring at her. She despised herself for racing upstairs and using her toy to relieve her frustration, so anxious to do so that she hadn't even undressed. The imagery of Buddy doing those things to her that she liked him to do was unsettling, she seldom fantasised about her dead husband but then she had somehow conjured up Richard’s face and she knew it was sinful.

“Don’t forget to get rid of that trash pile and don’t forget to call Victoria,” Emily said to disperse the uneasy atmosphere of sexual tension.

She fiddled with her skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and after checking her makeup in the hallway mirror she picked up her handbag and left for work promptly at nine.

Richard poured himself a mug of coffee and took the house phone out on the patio and called home. Victoria answered on the third ring.

“Hello mommy’s boy, how are things going with the wicked witch of the south?” Victoria was immediately aggressive.

“Fine. I’m staying in my old room until I can find something better,” Richard answered, resisting the temptation to start a fight.

“Well what do you want?” Victoria got straight to the point.

“Mother thinks that we should try marriage counselling. We could use the minister or we could see a professional,” Richard said.

“Is that what mommy thinks? Do you ever think for yourself Richard?” he could hear his wife lighting a cigarette and she knew that he hated her smoking in the house.

“I agree with her Victoria. We’ve been fighting for so long now and I can’t keep walking out on you and then coming back with my tail between my legs,” Richard sighed.

“You always agree with your mother Richard. Christ you even get me to dress like her. Sometimes I think you would rather fuck her than me,” Victoria hissed.

“That’s a god-awful thing to say Victoria,” Richard was glad his wife couldn’t see him blushing or the guilty look on his face.

“Then why is it that when I wear those little skirt-suits you like so much you can’t keep your hands off me but if I wear jeans, pants or shorts you lose interest. Do you know that most of my pantyhose have holes in the crotch where you’ve fucked me through them? Do you know that I hate those fucking things and never wear them unless you’re home,” Victoria’s bitterness was building.

“Where do you think you developed that little perversion Richard? I think a marriage counsellor or maybe even a psychiatrist might have fun exploring that little aspect of our marriage,” Victoria chuckled evilly.

“Well you don’t have to worry about talking about those things to a marriage counsellor darling because I’ve hired a divorce lawyer. Don’t come home Richard; stay away. You will hear from my attorney shortly,” Victoria hissed.

“Give my best to Emily and tell her I hope her ass and tits begin to sag and she falls flat on her face in those ridiculous high heels she wears,” Victoria broke the connection.

Richard hadn't expected the conversation to go well but he had not expected Victoria to start divorce proceedings. He wondered if that was such a bad thing. They had no children and their marriage was a wreck. It was something to think about but for now he’d deal with the task at hand.

He called Bellenau Agricultural Sales and Hire and spoke to Bradley Connaught who was the sales executive. They shot the shit for a while talking about the old days when Richard was a teenager and he would help Brad work on his classic car restorations. Brad was currently restoring a 1960’s Corvette and Brad began to tell him all about it when Richard interrupted and told him that he would be coming around the dealership this morning to borrow a trailer and they could chew the fat face to face. He hung up and grabbed his car keys.

Bradley Connaught had not aged well. He had the bulbous red nose and veiny cheeks of a serious drinker and his gut hung low into his crotch. Richard doubted that Bradley could mount the marital bed let alone mount his wife. Thoughts of pretty, long-legged Susan Connaught straddling Bradley’s fat, flabby body made him shiver.

They shot the shit for a while, talking cars and business. Bellenau Agricultural Sales and Hire was his mother’s business managed by Bradley Connaught. Richard’s mother had kept on Buddy’s employees when she took over and expanded his businesses. Bob Swanson had been crippled when an inattentive mechanic accidently dropped a car hoist on his lower limbs but Don Mitchum, Bradley Connaught and Willy Longmire had worked their way into managerial positions in Bellenau whilst Richard managed the two businesses in Mirfield.

Emily Carter had kept the men working for her and fostered close friendships with their wives because they were the only men who had seen the sex tapes that Buddy had made of her. By keeping the men employed they would remain loyal and if their wives knew about the movies she would soon find out if their husbands gossiped.

There was that old adage about keeping your enemies close but so much time had passed that Emily had almost forgotten about the sex tapes. She had destroyed them the morning after Buddy had died and even if the men started blabbing about the sex movies, it was so far in the past that they would likely never be believed. That said, Emily never totally trusted the men but their wives had become true and trusted friends.

After listening to Bradley prattle on for a while Richard got to the point of his visit and Bradley helped him hitch a box trailer to his car. Richard explained that over the next few days he would be hauling trash out of the attic and Bradley nodded sagely but didn’t bother to offer to help. The heaviest thing that Bradley lifted nowadays was a pint bottle.

“Hey Richard can you do me a favour?” Bradley leaned in and Richard turned sideways as the whiskey fumes enveloped him.

“Can you drop by Susan’s boutique and give her this,” Bradley took an envelope from his desk.

“She didn’t get to the bank yesterday and she’s running low on cash. I was going to drop it off during the lunch break but as you’re going right by there… well you know,” Bradley handed over the slim envelope containing the banknotes.

Richard knew that Bradley would rather take a long lunch eating ribs and drinking ice-cold tap beer at The Longhorn Bar and Grill than drive halfway across town to where Susan Connaught ran a modest gift shop in a strip mall on the other side of town. The gift shop wasn’t much more than a pet project to keep Susan occupied and it barely scraped by.

“Sure, why not,” Richard gave him a friendly smile.

To be honest, clearing out his mom’s attic was just busywork to keep her off his back so why not run the errand. Besides, Susan Connaught was an attractive mature woman and Richard never missed the opportunity to engage with one of those.

Susan’s Gift Shoppe was located in a strip mall in an outer suburb of Bellenau wedged between a nail salon and a FedEx. The parking lot was nearly empty and Richard had no problem parking his car and trailer. The exterior of the shop had been decorated to look appealing and festive and it stood out amongst the sad dour collection of breeze block establishments.

As he approached Richard read a sign painted on the window glass: Everything a Southern Belle Needs. Peering in through the window Richard decided that most of the baubles on display were everything a southern belle didn’t need. He pushed open the door and the little bell above it tinkled.

Inside the smell of potpourri was almost overwhelming and the shelves were filled with knickknacks and gewgaws, doilies, Hummel figurines, trinkets, ornaments and decorations. There were racks of greeting cards and posters. The place did its best to look classy but it was nothing more than an upmarket five and dime.

Susan Connaught came from out back and immediately brightened Richard’s day. She was a voluptuous woman wearing a red swing dress with black polka dots which was cinched at the waist with full skirts and tight bodice. Her long legs were clad in fleshtoned nylons with backseams, her feet shod in red pumps. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head in ringlets and her makeup leant on the heavy side: smoky eyes and bright red lipstick. She dressed age-appropriate but was a very attractive woman who knew how to dress to make her larger frame look provocative and enticing.

“My, my, my, Richard Carter as I live and breathe, to what do I owe the pleasure,” Susan flashed him a brilliant smile.

Richard swallowed hard and looked Susan up and down and liked what he saw.

“You like this dress? I try to dress in keeping with the theme of my shop, you know, a little retro,” Susan pirouetted and her skirts flew up above her knees.

“Bradley gave me this to give to you,” Richard held out the envelope soberly in an effort to disguise his ardour.

“Was he sober?” Susan asked.

“It was only ten thirty Mrs Connaught,” Richard replied.

“Was he sober?” She asked again.

Richard studied his shoes to hide the guilty look.

“I thought so,” she snatched the envelope from his grasp.

As she approached Richard her perfume enveloped him. It was almost cloying.

He could see the wary look in her eyes and the makeup couldn’t disguise the onset of age: fine wrinkles around her eyes, the dark roots in her dyed blonde hair, the beginnings of a double chin, the potbelly just like his mom’s only bigger.

All of that aside, she was a beautiful and sexy woman and Richard felt very attracted to her.

“Mrs Connaught is my mother, Richard. Please address me as Susan,” she stood very close to him as she studied the contents of the envelope then she looked up and flashed her blue eyes at Richard.

“I know that my husband and the girls think this shop is a vanity project and that Bradley has to subsidise it but I don’t care. I have a husband whose only interests are old cars and Old Grand-Dad so I take my pleasures where I can get them,” Susan blew into Richard’s ear and he took a step back when the bell tinkled above the door.

Two old ladies entered the store and began to study the Hummel figurines.

“Tell me Richard do you like my stockings or do you still prefer pantyhose,” Susan raised the hem of her dress just high enough to show off the dark shimmery welts of her stockings held up by silver snaps attached to her garters.

“You have customers,” Richard hissed.

“Those two old dears. They're as deaf as posts,” Susan smiled at him but she lowered her skirts.

“What did you do with those pantyhose Richard? Did they suffer the same fate as the ones you used to steal from you mother’s laundry basket?” Susan teased and sucked on a red-painted fingernail salaciously.

Richard blushed and glared at Susan. He nodded warily at the two old biddies who were slowly getting closer and shook his head hoping she would shut up but she continued as if the old women weren’t present.

“You know us girls tell each other everything, don’t you Richard. Gossip is all some of the girls have. That is until recently of course. Silvia Swanson likes to seduce young men in bathrooms when she should be playing cards and Melissa Mitchum likes to dress in her special yoga pants when she goes looking for her gold lighter,” Susan sucked the full length of her index finger into her mouth and smiled around it.

“They told you!” Richard bellowed.

The two old biddies turned their heads and looked sternly at Richard but Susan just smiled and waved to them, signalling that everything was ok.

“Don’t shout Richard. Ethel and Doris might be deaf as posts but not when someone is shouting,” Susan grinned at him.

“Does my mother know about Silvia and Melissa?” Richard struggled to keep his voice down.

“Of course not silly. There are some things that the queen bee doesn’t need to know. You know by now that your father fucked all of us: Elspeth Longmire, Silvia Swanson and Melissa Mitchum and me of course. Anything in a skirt wasn’t safe from your father,” Susan sniffed.

“Does my mother know about that?” Richard asked.

“Oh she suspects but after Buddy’s terrible accident the point was moot. She never asked and we never told her. Emily knew that Richard was a pussy hound and she tolerated it for the sake of her marriage and for your sake. She was a good mom. Still is,” Susan reflected.

“Did your husbands’ know?” Richard enquired.

“Oh they suspected for sure but Buddy had them by the balls because he was their boss. Silvia Swanson worked at one of his dealerships too as his accountant but not the same one where her husband worked. Buddy insisted on that so he could fuck her in his office. Our husbands knew that Buddy played the field and was banging his eighteen-year-old secretary and was putting it around town,” Susan’s eyes glazed over as recalled days long gone.

“Those good ol boys were thick as thieves. They golfed together, they drank together and they played poker at Buddy’s house, well, now your mother’s house, every Saturday night. They had some kind of special bond,” Susan continued.

“So us wives became friends too but we kept secrets from our husbands and of course we didn’t tattle to Emily. As far as I know she still doesn’t know,” Susan sighed.

“So what’s going on? Are all of you women conspiring to fuck me?” Richard whispered as the biddies got closer.

“Oh no. It was a complete accident. Silvia happened on you in the bathroom and let you take advantage. The poor old girl has a crippled husband and doesn’t get much dick. She couldn’t wait to tell the rest of us of course. Melissa Mitchum is a shark. She’s fucking her yoga instructor but decided to find out for herself if what Silvia claimed was true,” Susan fiddled with the lace fringing her bodice.

“I close the store at lunchtime and the manager of the FedEx next door comes to visit. Us girls gotta scratch that itch and Bradley hasn’t scratched mine for years,” she smiled wickedly at him.

“Now you turn up here, so I thought I’d ask you myself if what Silvia and Melissa said was true and now I know,” she gave him a calculated look.

“Let me wrap those for you ladies,” Susan walked over to the counter to serve the two old biddies.

This would have been the perfect opportunity for Richard to take his leave but something told him to stick around. Maybe it was the recollection of Susan Connaught holding up her skirts and showing him those beguiling stocking-tops. He moved between the racks pretending to brose the gewgaws while Susan attended to Ethel and Doris.

She escorted the two old women to the door and bade them farewell and then turned the sign on the door from Open to Closed.

“Now where were we?” Susan strode slowly towards him, swinging her skirts, so that he could take in every part of her.

Her pretty face, her curvaceous body, her heaving bosom and those long legs clad in shimmery nylon stockings.

“We have to be quick. People will be suspicious if I close the store for too long during trading hours,” Susan took his hand and led him to the little office out back.

Richard was stunned but he followed willingly.

Susan turned around and wrapped her arms around Richard and kissed him. She smelled delicious and tasted even better as she pressed her Rubenesque body against him and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Richard was immediately hard and Susan’s fingers found him that way and squeezed him through his pants.

“Come on junior, put that in me,” Susan gasped into his mouth.

Richard put a hand under Susan’s dress and struggled a little with the voluminous skirts until he found her thighs and stroked the gauzy stocking tops with his fingertips and would have liked to have spent more time doing so but Susan was insistent. His fingertips traced the garter across the expanse of soft bare flesh until he found her panties. He cupped her pubic mound through the slinky fabric and felt the warmth and moistness of her sex.

He would have loved to have more time to free those plump breasts from the confines of her bodice and suckle them, to caress her curvaceous body, to fondle her buttocks, to taste her sex, but Susan was very impatient.

She hopped up on her desk, lifted her skirts and opened her legs wide and Richard stepped between them. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and kissed him again as she locked her legs around his waist then she began to fumble with his belt, quickly unbuckling it and ripping down his fly. She tugged at the waistband and Richard took the cue and dropped trou and pushed down his briefs.

Susan’s fingers found his hard veiny appendage and stroked it to full tumescence, still kissing him, still holding him close with those magnificent stocking-sheathed limbs. His polo shirt rode up a little and he could feel her silky, sleek stockings rubbing on his flanks and his hands went to her legs and explored those magnificent thighs, edging ever closer to her sex.