Ticks and Leeches

The news of my father's death was hard enough. The revelations that surfaced about his secret life made the passing all the more traumatic for the family. Two mistresses attended the funeral; Mom having to be held back in her fury when one of them attempted to present her with Dad's possessions. A heart attack had taken him whilst in the woman's presence. In 'the act,' I learned. Dad being a big guy, it gave me some satisfaction to know 'she' had been caught under his dead weight for however long it took to extract herself. Just desserts for sleeping with a man she knew was married, I decided. Eventually I accepted his things from her and dumped them in the trunk of my car just to get them out of sight while the mood at the service tempered.

Three years at least, we discovered he'd been cheating on Mom and it was likely his conquests didn't end with the two that attended. Overall, it was an understandably stressful few days and when it was all done and I had Dad's ashes beside me on the way back from the funeral home a week later, I was glad we could finally put the whole event behind us and all move on with our lives. And then I remembered Dad's possessions in the rear of my car...

It wasn't pleasant holding a dead man's clothes. His wallet was empty of cash and knowing Dad always carried at least a twenty, I wondered if 'she' had taken it as recompense for being 'died upon?' His phone down to one bar of battery was locked of course, but knowing Dad, I typed 'password' when prompted and it opened up to me to access.

Out of curiosity I looked at his messages and saw the evidence of his affairs all over it. If he was trying to keep it secret from his wife, he wasn't doing much to cover his tracks. Maybe he just didn't care, wanted her to find out? Why wouldn't he have just divorced her if he was no longer happy? I certainly had never suspected there had been problems. Nor had Mom form her reaction to the mistresses.

I was on the verge of dismissing the phone when I thought about the search history, any potential downloads, even the camera. I didn't want to give it back to Mom to have her find something offensive in the files and after finding his browser empty, I navigated my way through to his gallery.

My life would certainly never be the same again.

The three photos of my mother told me exactly when and where they'd been taken, my sister and I having made much of her appearance on the night of their 30th wedding anniversary. The tight white dress she'd worn being so out of character to her regular demeanor. Dad had obviously noticed as well. The first picture was of her sitting cross-legged in the booth we'd occupied. Yes, she was showing a great deal of leg, but it was innocent enough and could have been taken when both my sister and I were present. The latter two however were not, and it had me wondering when in hell they'd actually done it?

In the second, Mom had her legs parted. She stared directly at the camera, a smile on her face clearly aware of the way she sat. The dress had been mid-thigh but with the spreading of her legs had risen to her hips exposing what I first assumed was a perfectly hairless pussy. The photos not of a high definition, upon further examination revealed to be flesh colored underwear. Regardless, I felt light headed, looking on an 'upskirt' of my own mother.

With a swipe I came upon the last. Mom with head turned, possibly to be sure she wasn't being observed. She remained spread legged, only now with panties removed, dark brown hair lavishly coating her pubic mound. The addition of the front of her dress pulled down, breasts exposed, hands holding them suggestively. Of course, I'd seen similar on porn sites. Mature women flashing for their husbands in public. Had devoted time myself to admiring such. To see my own mother depicted the same way was mind-blowing, confronting, and yet, even though I hated to admit at the time, arousing. I had to remind myself to breathe as I took in this new reality, swallowing painfully with a dry throat.

There were other photos. The women my father had been fucking behind everyone's backs, including their own. Their's weren't so affecting to me. My feelings toward them not hidden, the appearance of them naked, provocative, disgusted me more than intrigued and when I swiped onto what was clearly my very own father's cock, I chose to end my perusal, deleting all but the chosen three.

Emailing them to myself was my first indiscretion I supposed. Deleting them from Dad's phone along with the others probably wasn't my call to make but I justified it somehow. Did Mom know they were on Dad's phone? If so, surely she'd have been more eager to regain his possessions. No, it was better this way. She'd never know, and with them now safe on my phone alone, Mom nor my sister would ever be troubled by the knowledge.

*

She looked different to me somehow when I arrived at her house to drop off Dad's things. Not in appearance, she was still 'Mom,' only now (and I know it sounds stupid,) she seemed more of a woman. Her legs that were so bare in the photo, now covered by tight Levi's, her ass filling out the rear. The bulge of pussy pressing hard against the denim, for the first time catching my eye, now aware there was a thick furrow of pubic hair lurking behind. The green t-shirt she had on did little to obscure her breasts. One's that I'd seen uncovered half an hour before as she held them towards the camera. That I could now look upon with a swipe of my phone any time I chose.

I felt my cock stir at the recollection and forced my eyes from her tits as she passed a cup of tea across the table. Dad's ashes and the bag of his belongings sat before her and the first item she pulled from it was his phone, my face blushing as she made to turn it on.

"Dead," she remarked when she found the battery drained and set it aside. It was a blessing I supposed. If she was aware the photos were on there, with the battery exhausted she'd assume I hadn't been able to view them either. Mom scoffed much as I'd done when she found his wallet empty and we gave each other a knowing look. "So, what do we do with these?" Her hand rested on the small wooden box containing his ashes.

"It's up to you I guess. Keep them. Scatter them somewhere," I offered. "Do you want them in the house?"

"No," Mom assuredly responded. "I want him gone," she followed up before throwing a hand over her mouth. "Oh, that sounds terrible doesn't it?"

"No, it's understandable Mom. What he did..." I shook my head.

I watched as she pulled his tie from the bag, running her fingers over the silk.

"I gave him this," she paused, wrapping the material around her hand. "We did love each other," her eyes rose to meet mine and I saw a great sadness that she was trying desperately to hide.

"I know Mom, it's alright," I ran a hand across the surface of the table and she reached out with her spare, her fingers interlocking with mine. Her hand so small, the skin so soft, amid her grieving I scolded myself for becoming aroused at the connection, as my penis stiffened beneath the table.

"Maybe your father's fishing spot?" she stated, and confused I asked her to repeat it.

"I mean his ashes," she explained. "What if we scattered them on the river. We could all drive up together. I don't know, spend a night in that old motel we used to stay in? Maybe next weekend. We did have some good times up there," she insisted.

By 'all,' I assumed Mom was meaning my older sister Bonnie and I didn't like the chances of her going along with Mom's plan.

"I think that'd be a great idea Mom," I concurred, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. "In fact, I'll call Bonnie now."

I wasn't thinking straight, I knew. The mention of the motel upstate was bring back memories of happy times yes. It also brought up an incident that affected much of my adolescence and was probably the catalyst for my current Oedipal obsession.

The motel we stayed in looked exactly like the 'Bates motel' from the movie! Albeit minus the creepy house on the hill and the lake behind. We called it as such whenever vacation plans were made, once a year for easily more than ten we'd make the journey, Mom and Dad continuing on the tradition long after Bonnie and I ceased holidaying with them. Dad's prime and secret fishing spot the reason for the four-hour long drive there and back.

On the first mention of Dad's ashes, Bonnie responded how I'd assumed she would.

"He's dead to me Dale...literally!" Bonnie replied. "What he did to Mom, to all of us. I don't care what you do with his ashes. Frankly I'm amazed Mom would honor him like that."

"We did have some good times Bonn," I half-heartedly attempted to change her mind. "You can't do it for Mom?"

She was adamant in her denial and I did no further to sway her resolve. In my head I was already sharing a motel room with Mom due to some mix up! 'Only one bed! Oh no, I guess we'll have to sleep together!' the thought bringing a smile to my face. As I hung up from my sister, I sported a ridiculously large lump in the front of my pants and visited the bathroom on the way back from the rear porch.

It had been more than five years since I'd jerked off in my parent's house, standing above the toilet with cock in hand all too familiar. My inspiration was the anomaly. My phone displaying the three photos of Mom. Her legs spread for me. I imagined it was I taking the photos. That she'd removed her panties for me, passed them to me and were safe in my pocket. She would touch my cock under the table, I her pussy. Later we'd fuck. No. In the car. She'd slide down my length and we'd kiss...I came with force upon the raised toilet seat, cursing myself for my indiscretion and coming down from my incestuous euphoria, scolding myself for my current forbidden obsession. It's not going to happen Dale, I told myself as I wiped up the mess I'd created. She's your mother dude. She's not interested. I resigned myself to the fact I had the photos, and that would have to do.

For now. A little voice whispered in the back of my brain.

*

"What did they say when you made the booking?" Mom excitedly asked and I glanced across to her in the passenger seat.

"What are you talking about?" I laughed. "I just did it online. Why would I call them?"

"Oh, I don't know," she smiled. "Just, being family run I thought you'd call. They'd remember you for sure. Could've got a better deal."

"It's a weird little motel in a weird little county, well off the highway. A better deal and they'd have been paying us to stay there. Don't worry, it didn't cost much," I assured her.

"So you don't know if Merle and Audrey still own the place?" Mom inquired.

"Was that their names? No idea," I admitted. "When was the last time you and Dad came?"

Mom looked out the window at the passing countryside, furrowing her brow. "It must be three or four years or so I think. I know we planned to come up for our 30th wedding anniversary but..." she added, not finishing the sentence and I felt myself blush at the mention of same, the photos calling me from my phone.

We stopped at a diner and ordered burgers and fries and as I sat in the booth post lunch I watched Mom from the rear chatting to the woman behind the counter about the weather, the country. She wore leggings. Not out of the ordinary. My admiration of her ass in them was, I supposed. The sweater she sported came down half way across her buttocks, more revealed as she leaned into the counter top. Her ass wasn't huge, it also wasn't petite. There was ample to grab, of that I was sure, the gray material cinching between her cheeks, the line of her panties visible through the fabric. So, she was wearing underwear, I mused and found myself longing to stare at the images once more.

I contented myself with remembrances of the past. The 'Bates Motel,' I pondered. The photos on my phone weren't the first time I'd seen my mother naked. Our second year visiting the area. The nickname for the motel well established, Dad thought it would be funny if we played a trick on Mom. We all did. I'd seen the movie, so even at my young age I knew the scenario. It was all innocent of course, Bonnie and Dad dressing me in one of Mom's dresses. Giving me the plastic knife. Ambushing Mom whilst she was in the shower with Dad and my sister accompanying with screeching violin sounds. It was all fun and games and everyone laughed at the time.

Later however. I looked upon it differently. As the years passed the memory grew in my head. I'd seen her naked of course but as a child I didn't consider the implications. My older self saw it differently. She fueled teenage fantasies. She was the inspiration for nighttime emissions. When I closed my eyes I saw her, a naked woman, in the shower, her body glistening with water. She was the first woman I loved, she was the first woman I came to.

The snap of fingers before my eyes brought me out of my daydream and I turned my head to look directly into my mother's crotch, the leggings tight over her pronounced pussy bulge, the hint of cameltoe.

"You ready to get going Mister?" She smiled when I managed to lift my eyes to meet hers.

An erection tenting the front of my pants, I was ready for anything.

*

"Well it hasn't changed," Mom observed as we pulled up into the parking lot.

"I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing," I laughed as we headed for the reception.

"I thought it was you lot," the large woman behind the desk greeted Mom. I had a vague recollection of Audrey, the owner, but she seemed to have no trouble recalling me. "I saw the name the booking was under and I wondered if it was y'all. And look, if it isn't little Dale! Not so little anymore. How have y'all been? Where's the rest of you?"

Mom filled her in with the details of our situation and the two women bonded over the mutual loss of their partners. I was just grateful she was conducting the check-in as they talked which allowed me to pick up the keys to the rooms and bring in the bags from the car.

No 'mix-up' unfortunately. We did get adjoining rooms however, with an interconnecting door that I promptly unlocked. It was just as I remembered, and so many memories rose to the surface. Bonnie and I in one room. Mom and Dad in the adjacent, just as now. The sun was getting low over the hills and Mom finally came and found me as I was unpacking some of my clothing.

"Well I guess we won't be going up there today," she addressed the sinking sun. "I forgot how quickly it gets dark in the valley," she added.

I looked at her in the doorway, surprised to see her holding the ashes.

"What are you doing with them?" I nodded toward her hands.

She looked down and seemed herself surprised to be holding the box, her eyes drifting back to mine, gradually filling with tears.

"I don't know," her shoulders slumped and it was then I realized it was the first time I'd seen my mother cry since Dad died.

For all I knew it was the first time she HAD cried, as I coaxed her back into her room. She placed the ashes on the small table beside the window and allowed herself to be seated on the bed.

"Mom, it's alright," I attempted to console her as she seemed to be fighting the tears. "It's ok to grieve."

"I hate him Dale," Mom admitted as she clutched my hand beside her. "For what he did. For how we were the last few years."

I wondered what that meant? Had they been having problems that me and Bonnie were kept in the dark about?

"But I loved him. I still do love him," she asserted.

"I know Mom," I placed an arm over her shoulder and could smell her tears. "I feel the same. One day I think we'll forgive him. Even Bonnie," I added. "But that's not going to take away the hurt. We won't forget. But we also won't forget the fun times," I posited.

The words seemed to have some effect on her and she snuggled into my embrace, placing a hand upon my thigh. I honestly wasn't thinking sexually at the time despite our closeness, I just wanted to be there for her, to comfort her.

"When did you become so mature?" Mom giggled snuffling.

"I'm twenty five," I laughed. "It had to happen sooner or later."

She again laughed and then said something out of the blue.

"Can you hold me?" She tentatively looked into my eyes through her tears

I thought I already was, but when I nodded my agreement, she broke my embrace and moved to lie on the bed. A million thoughts ran through my head as she presented her back to me and I understood I was to hug her from behind.

We didn't do this! I figured that under the circumstances regular behavior went out the window somewhat. If Mom wanted to be comforted by her son essentially spooning her, who was I to deny it? She made a contented sigh as I lay behind her and placed a hand around her waist. My arm was quickly taken up and pulled into her chest, quite aware it was her breasts that provided the softness it was pressed against.

I made a point of not pressing my groin into her bottom, maintaining what I assumed to be an acceptable distance of around an inch. If she happened to want the connection, it would be her that would have to move. Don't get me wrong, I would have been happy to just grind my cock against her ass cheeks with impunity, but if by some chance in a million something was going to happen between us, I wanted it to come naturally, jointly.

The room was warm with the last rays of the sun shining directly onto the far wall. Mom had quelled her tears and was more interested in reminiscing on the happier times, focusing on vacations more than ten years prior. Our heads on the same pillow, I could smell her hair, see the contours of her small ear, the curve of her jaw when she spoke, the expanse of flesh on her shoulder and bare neck.

"We weren't sleeping in the same bed," she admitted, breaking away from the previous recollections.

"What?" I asked, taken by surprise by the sudden admission.

"The last few years," she elaborated. "I should have known something was wrong."

"Mom, you don't have to," I stated.

"No, it's ok. You deserve to know," she insisted. "You and your sister. It was around our anniversary. We tried different things but the spark was gone," she asserted and I thought I knew what her 'different things' alluded to, the images on my phone a testament. "You won't want to hear this Dale, but I spent hundreds on lingerie!"

I kept my mouth shut. Neither confirming or denying how interested I was in her underwear.

"He'd lost interest in me," she added. "Why didn't he just leave?" She concluded with the same question I'd asked myself.

"Because he was an idiot," I casually answered her query and it brought forth a chuckle.

"And we never talked," she continued after a moment's pause. "How ridiculous is that?" She scoffed. "In the last few days, you've shown me more affection and listened to me more than he did for years."

I was glad she'd noticed. She hadn't mentioned we were currently sharing a bed, another one I seemingly had up on Dad.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," I whispered and did something I wouldn't normally. I kissed the curve of her neck where it met her scalp. It was spontaneous and I wasn't thinking sexually when I did it. I just genuinely wanted to show her affection, to reinforce what she'd felt and stated.

"Ooh, goosebumps!" She giggled and hugged my arm a little closer into her breast.

*

I hadn't even felt sleep approaching when I woke to the room in shadow. The drapes open, some light from the motel's neon sign filtered through the curtains but it was clear night was well advanced. What was also clear was my erection pressed hard into the buttocks of my mother. My left arm was numb where it lay under myself and it was possibly the reason I'd awoken, but how long my cock had been in its state; how long her ass had been pushed against me? I had no idea.