Triangled Up in Blue Ch. 02

***********

The night before Dottie moved away my mother cooked a special dinner. Dottie and I sat arm in arm on the couch, acting very much like one would expect two lovers to carry on during their final night together. After dessert Dottie and my mother broke down, Dottie saying she was going to miss us terribly and promising to visit. Then, after exchanging hugs with my mother, Dottie grabbed me by the hand and said, "Are you ready, baby?" I nodded. Earlier I'd told my mother I would be sleeping at Dottie's so I would be there when the movers arrived first thing in the morning.

While I expected a night of wild sex Dottie and I did little more than hold each other and reminisce about our years together. She'd taught me everything I knew about how to be with a woman. At the same time I made her feel sexy and vibrant. If she'd asked me at that moment to go with her to Florida I probably would have.

Then it ended. Without Dottie on the other side of the courtyard I had nothing to do in the evenings. It had been years since I'd gone out with friends to a ballgame or bar. I also underestimated how much I'd miss Dottie. As much as I tried to deny it to myself, I felt sad and empty. Mother was feeling it too. Dottie had been her best friend and confident, along with me her main contact with the world outside our apartment. For the first month the atmosphere in our home was not unlike a family who had lost a loved one. Mother stopped reading gay porn in the living room and hadn't yet sent me to the newsstand to replenish her supply. I was beginning to give up on the idea that anything would ever happen between us.

One afternoon I arrived home and the apartment was in disarray. Furniture from my bedroom had been set up in the middle of the living room. There was a heavy smell of paint and turpentine.

"The painters came by this afternoon," Mother said. "They started on your bedroom."

"I can see," I said. "How are we supposed to live in the meantime?"

"We'll make do."

"I can't use my bedroom tonight. The smell is too much."

My mother suggested I sleep in the living room but I protested that the lumpy sofa would throw out my back. She offered to share her bed with me.

"That'll work," I said. My tone betrayed no excitement despite the fact that I'd spent the better part of three months trying to figure out a way into my mother's bed. "And you can sleep in my bed when they start on your room."

That night I changed into my pajamas while Mother took her evening shower. . As the water ran I slipped a box of chocolate covered cherries in the nightstand drawer. This time I inspected her toys. There were two vibrators; a Rabbit and a silver egg shaped contraption with a wire attached to a battery pack. On the floor was a battered Eyore doll my mother had since she was a child. I pulled back the comforter and climbed into bed. Earlier she'd changed the sheets which had the crisp fresh scent from drying on the clothesline behind the building. I felt lightheaded and my insides tingled in anticipation. Mother took her time in the bathroom, her bedtime routine not affected by the fact that she'd be sharing her bed with a man for the first time in twenty years.

Finally, she made her way across the hallway. She stood next to the nightstand and reached for the blue cotton gown she kept underneath the pillow before turning off the lamp. In the darkness she padded across the room, removed her heavy terrycloth robe and hung it on the door. For a brief moment she was completely naked, her silhouette shadowlike in the darkness. Her breasts hung nearly to her belly. She slipped her arms underneath the gown and covered her nakedness.

Mother pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. She smelled of bath oil and lotion. She propped some pillows against the headboard and reached into the nightstand drawer for the chocolate covered cherries.

"Oh I love these," she said as she opened the box of candy. "It is so thoughtful of you to leave me little presents. Thank you, honey. Would you like one?"

I said yes and opened up my mouth. She paused for a moment before she realized I wanted her to feed me. The shell cracked as she placed the candy in my mouth and the melted chocolate and cherry syrup spreading across my tongue. I laid there and watched as mother put one chocolate covered cherry after another into her mouth. I imagined what it would be like to pop one into my own mouth, take a single bite, then lean over and feed it to Mother as we kissed.

When she finished the candy Mother laid down to sleep. I tried to stay on my side of the bed but she outweighed me by at least one hundred pounds. I kept rolling up against her cushiony bosom. I reached across her belly, my knees bent and thighs pressed against her plump derriere as if they were a chair. My cock stiffened into her feathery soft flesh as we spooned.

I would have loved to have fallen asleep like that but Mother couldn't get comfortable. She kept rolling from one side to the other, kicking at the sheets and readjusting her pillows. Every time I began to drift off I would be jolted awake by her tossing and turning. It took a couple of hours before she finally settled down.

I dozed off only to be awakened by a light trembling across the mattress. I looked over at Mother. Her back was to me. The bed sheet was fluttering like a flag on a windy day. I rolled over to my side and propped my head to get a better look. Mother was so caught up in what she was doing she hadn't noticed I'd awakened. She appeared to be squeezing something like a small pillow between her thighs, the object pushed against her mound by her wiggling hand. The trembling quickened and mother began to pant. All of a sudden she yanked away the covers and rolled onto her back, bumping my ribs with her elbow. The black control brief panties were pulled down to her knees, the nightgown hiked almost to her bosom. Paying no mind to me she grabbed what I could now see was the Eyore doll between her thighs with both hands and pressed it hard against her pussy. The layers of pale flesh that surrounded her pubic mound jiggled while mother played with herself, her face contorted with ecstasy as she writhed on the bed. Then, for a brief moment, her entire body went rigid and she held her breath as if the passage of time had been suspended.

"Muhminuh, muhminuh..."

What began as a tiny whimpering slowly gained momentum until it became a full blown moan. Mother thrashed about on the bed, her hips buckling as she attempted to maximize every last shimmer of pleasure. When her climax subsided I reached across and pulled her close. This time she turned towards me. Her enormous belly felt like a pillow between us. I rubbed her back as the residual spasms from her loins faded and we embraced like two lovers exhausted as we fell asleep.

********

On my way home from work the following evening I stopped by the adult bookstore. It had been several months since my mother read a new issue of her favorite magazines so I took it upon myself bring home some fresh ones. As I browsed the gay section of the store I could practically feel the stares of the middle age closet cases cruising for a quickie. I ignored their come-ons and brought half a dozen magazines and books to the counter. Four featured smooth twinks or lady boys. Another was an illustrated novel about a woman who turned her husband into a sissy. The final magazine I found in the Plumpers and BBW's section. It was shrink wrapped but the covers showed two naked supersize women in bed with a thin twink who seemed to get lost inside the layers of fat that spilled over and concealed their pussies.

I had no idea how Mother would react to the magazines. That morning she didn't say much as she served my usual plate of scrambled eggs and toast. When I kissed her as I was walking out the door she turned her cheek, foiling my plan to give her the sort of kiss she'd remember all day. She was probably embarrassed about waking me with her masturbating. The magazines might send the signal that I understood and there was nothing she should be ashamed of. But I could also see how it might be coming on a bit strong. When I pulled up to the building I decided to slip the magazines inside my briefcase.

The evening routine was pretty much the same as the night before; Mother showering in the bathroom while I waited in her bed wearing only my pajama bottoms. I decided to slip two of the magazines along with a box of chocolates into the nightstand drawer while she took a shower figuring she'd come across them the next time she indulged herself in some private time.

Mother had already slipped into a clean nightgown before she came into the bedroom. She sat at the side of the bed as she applied some lotion to her hands. Then she propped up some pillows before slipping underneath the covers. Her legs were cool to the touch as they pressed against my own.

"David," she said, tentatively. "There's something I need to..."

"Huh?"

"About last night. Did I...?"

I let the unfinished question linger, allowing the tension build. Mother looked down towards her lap and shifted nervously.

"Get carried way? A little bit," I said.

"Oh, God," she said.

She buried her face in her hands. I reached across her shoulders.

"It's okay, Mother. Everybody does it."

"Not when they're in bed with their own son," she said. "It is so embarrassing."

I began to rub Mother's neck and shoulders, assuring her with soft whispers that she'd done nothing wrong, how everyone needs a release now and then. After a while she looked up at me.

"You're such a good son," she said. "It is very hard for me to fall asleep unless I -- how did you put it -- get some release. I've been that way since I was a little girl."

She reached under the covers and pulled up the Eyore doll.

"Just me and Eyore," she said.

"Gotta ride that donkey," I said.

We both laughed.

"I'm the same way," I said. "I don't always have to cum. But masturbating does help me fall asleep."

"Usually I don't go all out crazy like I did last night," Mother said. "I have some toys that are much more efficient. When I use them I cum fast and quiet. But I was afraid I'd wake you if I took them out of the nightstand. So I took care of things by hand."

"And woke up the entire building," I said. We laughed again.

"Well, if it makes you uncomfortable you can go into the living room and wait about ten minutes while I..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother. After last night's show I don't think a vibrator buzzing underneath the blankets is going to bother me. Besides, I brought home a couple of the magazines you like. They're in your drawer."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "Why don't we look at one."

Mother looked at me for a moment as she deliberated whether or not to engage in some incestuous variation of the bedtime story ritual. Then she pulled a magazine from the nightstand drawer. The cover featured two Asian transsexuals in lingerie embracing on a bed with silk sheets.

"Hmmm, ladyboys," she said. "I never would have suspected this sort of thing interested you. You never showed any interest in women's clothing."

"No, never had any desire to crossdress," I said. "I just remembered how turned on we got the last time."

"This magazine is a little different," Mother explained as she flipped through the pages. "Most of these models are taking hormones and have had breast implants. I like my boys without curves or breasts. How about you?"

I stammered for a moment and almost told her I was straight. But I remembered what Dottie had said about Mother no longer feeling comfortable looking at gay porn with me if she knew it was her reaction to the pictures instead of the pictures themselves that turned me on so much.

"I guess I like the same thing," I said. "But making love while wearing those silky nightgowns must feel incredible."

"Oh yes," she said. "The combination of soft skin on silk. Absolutely divine."

She started flipping through the second magazine and we came upon a photo spread of two American blonde haired twinks. They were heavily made up and both wore pink baby doll nighties. Neither model showed any evidence of hormones.

"This is more like it," Mother said.

She wiggled a bit in bed as she lingered over the first series of shots which were set in what appeared to be a young girl's room complete with an ornate white dresser, matching toy chest and a collection of dolls perched on a shelf. The expressions on the sissies' faces suggested sheer ecstasy as they explored each other through the nightgowns, the pictures focusing more on their feminized appearance than unbridled passion. The entire scene suggested some kind of sissy slumber party.

"Do you think we'd look good in pink?" I asked.

Mother looked into my face and brushed the hair from my forehead.

"No, we're too dark," she said. "Blondes look best in pink. I think purple or red would look best on us."

"Do you have anything in those colors?"

"Nothing sexy," Mother said. "There isn't a very wide selection in my size so I stick with the bland cottony gowns that keep me warm in the winter and decent in the summer. But you could fit into just about anything they carry. Just a matter of finding what looks best with your figure."

I cocked my hand on my waist and shimmied coquettishly. Mother giggled.

"We just might make a cross dresser out of you," she said. She licked her fingertip and smoothed my eyebrows. "It wouldn't take a whole lot of makeup. A little mascara, some eye shadow, definitely some rouge to emphasize those high cheekbones. Your father had some Indian blood, that's for sure."

I knew from experience that talking about my father was a surefire way to kill the mood. A lifetime of curiosity, however, was enough to overcome my state of arousal. Mother brought him up so rarely. There were a few questions that had been nagging at me since the last time we spoke about him.

"Mother, about you and my father," I asked. "If he was gay how did you two make me? I mean, from what you told me I doubt I was planned."

"No, you were a fortunate accident," Mother said. She brushed my hair from my brow.

"But I don't understand. Did you have an intimate relationship or did the two of you just get drunk one night and wake up in bed together the next morning?"

Mother let out a slow breath then sat quietly as she collected her thoughts.

"We had an understanding," she began. "I never asked what went on when he was out of the apartment. But he was welcome to stay with me provided he came to bed at a decent hour. He always did. By staying with me he didn't have to turn tricks to keep a roof over his head and that was something he appreciated. He in turn took care of my needs for intimacy."

"It had to be difficult given that he preferred sex with men," I said.

"Sex and intimacy are two different things. Related, yes, but for a woman sharing an intimate life is more than just kisses and orgasms. My needs were unique and a man like your father was perfect for them."

"How so?" I asked.

"I pretty much had stopped leaving the apartment by the time I met your father. I'd had a lifetime of nasty comments about my size and decided I wasn't going to deal with it any longer. Your father was not only my contact with the outside world, he also knew how to make me feel like a lady. He would come home with makeup, sexy clothes and make me up. It was like having my own cosmetologist. He'd tease my hair up pretty, ribbons and bows. Called me his Daisy Dimples doll. And that was another thing. He never made me feel guilty about my size. He'd bring home all kinds of sweets, get me dolled up then give me a giant portion of tiramisu as a reward for being so pretty, like it was all part of the beauty treatment at some spa for fatties. Then we'd snuggle up in bed and whisper into each other's ears like two girls having some pillow talk at a sleepover."

"I understand the intimacy," I said. "But that doesn't explain how you ended up with a baby nine months later. Did somebody leave me outside the door in a basket?"

Mother smacked me playfully and chided me for being so nosey.

"If you really want to know we would cuddle and caress each other under the covers," she said. "Every once in a while we'd 'go all the way' though that was rare and always spontaneous which is why I didn't use protection. It was pretty stupid of me considering all the diseases out there but most of the time we just pleasured each other without exchanging body fluids. Now those are all the details I'm giving you, kiddo. For the rest you will have to use your imagination."

With that Mother turned off the lamp. Once again bringing up my father had killed the momentum. I don't know if the subject still made her sad after all these years or if talking about it with me only reinforced in her mind that we were mother and son. Either way my cock was throbbing underneath my pajamas. I was going to have to find some way to take care of things. I pulled down the waistband and started lightly stroking my dick with my fingertips. Mother was still awake but I figured if I was gentle enough not to rock the boat she would pretend not to notice.

As I stroked myself I thought about my father. Learning that such an effeminate gay man could totally my mother's intimate needs made me feel less freakish about my own feminine proclivities. In the back of my mind I had continued to worry that Mother would reject me as a sexual partner unless I put on some kind of macho front. Knowing I could be myself took away much of pressure.

After a few minutes Mother turned to her side and opened the nightstand drawer. I caught a quick glimmer of her silver bullet as it reflected the lights from outside before she brought it underneath the covers. While she was positioning the vibrator I reached down and grabbed Eyore, cradling him against my face like a child with his favorite teddy bear. The stuffed toy smelled musty and dank, like he'd spent his entire life pressed up against my mother's pussy.

Mother flipped the switch on the battery pack and there was a muffled buzz coming from the area between her legs. I could see her squeezing her breasts underneath the blanket. After a minute or so she began to search for something. She couldn't find it. I reached over and dropped Eyore on top of her chest.

"You rotten little stinker," she said as she grabbed the stuffed donkey and rolled onto her side.

With her back to me Mother straddled Eyore. I reached over, resting my hand on top of her belly as I scooted up against her valentine shaped derriere. The muscles in her legs and abdomen began to tense and relax in rhythm as she squeezed Eyore between her thighs. Her ass slid slowly against my hard on as she rolled her hips. Her panties were silky smooth and I could feel the vibrating egg tucked inside her pussy. I imagined the two of us were reclining in the darkened first class cabin on an overnight flight, the remote control vibrator hidden surreptitiously inside her panties. I slipped my hand beneath Mother's gown and caressed her midsection.

"Mmmm," she moaned, pressing her plump ass against my dick.

Mother grabbed my hand and clutched it against her breast. One of the advantages of being a man with femme breasts is that I knew exactly how to maximize a woman's pleasure as I played with her bosom. Goose pimples formed on my mother's skin as I kissed the area where her neck met her shoulder and ran my fingertips over a firm nipple that felt almost as thick as my thumb. Then things shifted into overdrive. Mother pressed my hand harder against her tit. I squeezed, pinched and tweaked until her squashy ass began to tremble, the pulsations against my throbbing cock increasing in intensity. Tiny tremors passed over her like waves. She buckled once before tensing up completely as she made a whimpering sound. Then she let out a long steam of air and her entire body seemed to collapse.