Waking Up to Ellen

Michael frowned and leaned in to renew the kiss.

"Nope!" she said, turning her head, "Go on!"

Realizing she wouldn't relent, Michael kissed her ear softly, then whispered, "I love you!"

She looked at him with tears of happiness welling in her eyes. "Go on!" she said again, but more gently this time.

***

Michael had no idea what time his father had come up from the basement, he had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. But he hadn't heard any yelling or accusations, and no one had thrown him into the street in the middle of the night, so he assumed his dad had no idea what had transpired between him and his mom.

It was Wednesday again, which meant he wouldn't see her until after her class. And, since there weren't any football games to keep his dad occupied, he wasn't sure he would have any alone time with her. Last week his dad had a few beers before coming home, but there was no guarantee that would be a regular thing. Reluctantly, Michael resolved himself to the idea that a stolen kiss or two might be all they would be able to manage. Feeling grumpy, despite the incredible evening, he pulled himself from bed and got ready.

When he pulled up in front of the house later that evening, his dad's truck sat in the driveway. Michael went inside hoping to find his dad engrossed in a movie. It wasn't to be. His dad was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop and, based on the stack of papers spread out around him, it looked like he was there for the night.

"Hey dad." His normal greeting sounded flat in his ears, and he worried his dad would hear the disappointment.

"Hey Mike." His dad was just as sullen as he.

Michael's mind jumped to the worst: 'He knows!'

"You good?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, they just threw a bunch of crap on my plate this afternoon. Somebody screwed up an estimate and now I have to sort it out," his dad scowled.

His panic subsided. "Sorry to hear it, dad. Anything I can help with?"

His dad looked up from his computer. "Seriously?"

"Sure!" Michael said, hoping it might work off some of the guilt he felt for wanting to sleep with his wife.

"Would you pick up your mom after her class tonight? She caught a ride with somebody but now they're saying they can't get her home again. I'll forward her text to you with the time and address."

"No problem, dad, I'll take care of it." The evening was looking up.

"I was hoping he would send you!" his mom said grinning and climbing into the passenger seat, "That's why I took an Uber to class tonight," she added with a wink.

Michael laughed, "I'm going to have to keep in mind just how devious you can be. I'm impressed!" He leaned in for a kiss but was quickly rebuffed.

"Sorry, sweetie, but some of the women in my class know I'm married," Ellen said, glancing around, "I don't think they'd believe it if I told them I was married to a nineteen-year-old hunk." Then, seeing the disappointment in his eyes, she squeezed his thigh, "I'll make it up to you later."

With that assurance, Michael perked up and put the car in drive. "You must be hungry, mom, do you want to stop for dinner?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" she asked, now running her fingers lightly along his leg.

"Sort of," he said, indifferently.

"'Sort of?'" she repeated questioningly.

"It's just, this isn't how I imagined our first date to be. I wanted it to be special: A candlelight dinner, catch a show downtown, holding hands as we walk along the Riverwalk, that kind of thing. Not stopping for a sandwich and rushing to get home because dad'll be suspicious otherwise."

Ellen was quiet as she mulled over Michael's words.

"Did I upset you, mom?" he finally asked.

"No, not in the least," she said quickly, "I guess I never thought about the possibility of us going on a real date. I thought you'd want to keep 'us' behind closed doors. And I love the idea of going to the theater and holding hands in public."

Michael heard her sniffle softly.

"Mom, if I could, I'd shout from the rooftops that I've met the most incredible, beautiful, wonderful woman in the world," he replied, taking her hand in his.

Her sniffling became more frequent and louder and she stole her hand back to dig in her purse for a tissue. She dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose and took a few calming breaths before smacking him sharply on his arm. "Dammit, Michael!" she exclaimed, half laughing, half crying.

"What?! What did I do?"

"You're always ruining my make up!"

Ultimately, they decided on Thai for dinner. Ellen had been wanting to try the restaurant for a while, but her husband wasn't big on Asian food. It wasn't candlelit, but they could sit instead of ordering at a counter, and it was far enough from home that they could hold hands without worrying about being recognized. Michael refused to allow her to call this their first date, however, insisting that he was going to do their first date right.

When they finally got home, Michael's dad was still at the kitchen table digging through the spreadsheets. Ellen gave him the burger and fries he'd requested after they offered to bring something home and kissed him on the cheek. Michael felt a twinge of jealousy, then anger with himself for being unreasonable.

"How late are you going to be working, honey?" Ellen asked.

"Not long," his dad replied sighing and looking at his watch, "Forty-five minutes tops."

"Okay," Ellen said, rubbing his shoulders, "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. Come up when you can."

She caught Michael's eye as she turned to go. Michael nodded subtly.

"I really should get to bed too, dad. I have an early class tomorrow."

"Mm-hmm."

Michael followed his mom upstairs and into her bedroom.

"Half an hour isn't long enough to do anything, Michael," she said quietly but firmly, and before he could reach for her. "And believe me, I want it just as badly as you do."

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Will you behave yourself?" she asked, studying him carefully.

"Honestly? I don't want to, but I can."

She smiled. "Then I'm going to get undressed so I can jump in the shower as soon as we're done, and you, mister, are going to massage my calves. You've been shirking in your duties lately."

She leaned in to quickly kiss him, and his hands moved to pull her tight.

"Nope!" she said, wriggling out of his arms and stepping back. "I told you to behave."

Michael began to protest but withered under her gaze.

"That's better." She turned her back to him and, lifting her hair, said, "Undo me."

He found the zipper to her dress and slowly pulled it down her back until the top of her panties showed. Shrugging her dress off her shoulders, she let it puddle at her feet, then, still facing away from him, bent at the waist to pick it up, relishing in his amorous moan of, "Oh, mom!"

She had worn the black lace thong specifically for him. Her only wish was that they both could have enjoyed the moment longer.

Straightening up, she walked to the bed, draped her dress over the footboard, then undid her bra and placed it with her dress. She lay down crossways on the bed, as she had the first time he had touched her bare legs, and casually pointed to the nightstand. "The lotion is over there."

Michael tried to maintain his dignity by not running to the nightstand. From his mother's smile when he returned with the lotion, he wasn't sure he had been as dignified as he had intended. Regardless, he kneeled beside her feet and brought his now slippery hands to her right calf. She sighed softly as he started working the muscle and let her legs relax. Her knees parted wide, and she was rewarded by another moan from her son.

"You make me feel beautiful, Michael," she said in a soft voice, her fingers lightly tracing figure eights on her tummy.

"You are beautiful, mom," he responded hoarsely. His mouth had gone dry.

Ellen blushed, unsure whether it was his heartfelt compliment or her scandalous exposure to him that caused it. Her fingers dipped lower on her stomach, finding the elastic of her thong and slipping under the delicate fabric ever so slightly.

From his vantage point, Michael could clearly see her pubic hair through the fine mesh of her panties. The sides were shaved, or maybe she never had hair there, but she had a triangular patch above her labia that looked natural. The gusset of her panties hid her most intimate places, but he could see the outline of her lips against the fabric. He thought he could also see a damp spot growing in the vee.

"We don't have much time, sweetie. Why don't you do my other leg now."

Her voice broke his reverie. She was sounding a little hoarse herself.

As he switched calves, he watched her hand dip lower into her panties, running through the thatch of hair then moving further down and making tiny circles. While he couldn't see it directly, he knew she had found her clit. He moaned again, eliciting a smile and sigh from her. Her fingers circled faster, while her other hand found a nipple and pulled. He felt and incredible urge to help her over the edge, to make her scream his name in pleasure, to feel her cum over and over again. Had she not admonished him to behave, Michael would have torn the thong from her hips and shoved his tongue deep inside her. Unable to do that, he leaned forward and kissed the insides of her knees.

Ellen could feel his hot breath on her legs, the brush of his tongue on her skin. She wanted him. She wanted to feel his weight pressing down on her as his hips moved between her legs. She wanted to feel his cock sliding deep inside her, filling her up until his pelvis mashed against her clit. She had thought that their intimate touching, pleasuring each other without fully crossing the line, would be enough. But at this moment, she knew it was inevitable. They were going to make love. Because they were in love. Because that was what lovers did. And because she wanted him.

Without warning, she sat up, pulled her fingers from her panties and grabbed his head with both hands. Michael was startled by her sudden change and leaned back. She slid off the bed and got on her knees, straddling his legs. She kissed him hard, with a passion that seemed equal parts desirous and angry. He found himself riding out the kiss rather than fully returning it. He didn't have the well to draw from to match her intensity.

Then it ended as suddenly as it had begun. His mom pulled back from him, tears rolling down her cheeks. She cradled his face in her hands briefly, managed a smile and sighed. "I love you, sweetie, but you have to go. Your dad could come in at any moment." She stood. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess tonight. I hope I didn't ruin your evening."

She held out her arms invitingly, so he stood and drew her tightly to his chest. She coaxed his hands down her back until they were firmly cupping her bare ass. "Just know," she whispered in his ear, "that I will be thinking of you when I use the shower head to make myself cum." She nibbled on his neck, slipped from his arms and sauntered to the bathroom with a sway in her hips.

Michael was in the hall headed to his room when he heard the water flowing to her shower. He quickened his pace.

***

The fates conspired against them over the next few days. Between work, school, and Michael's dad, they were unable to find time alone to do more than flirt. Michael was surprised and delighted, however, that the flirting was not nearly as lopsided as it had been. His mom had taken to flashing her lingerie at him, running her hands over his butt, and even grabbing his cock through his jeans when the opportunity presented itself. And when Michael snuck in a kiss, or cupped her ass, she no longer admonished him. She would fall into his arms instead, matching and encouraging his kisses, and leaning into his caresses.

As exhilarating as it was, they were both on edge by Saturday. Hands and shower heads could only go so far to relieve the tension that had built between them. That evening, Michael had Ellen pinned to the wall in the upstairs hallway, having 'accidentally' bumped into her as she was leaving her bedroom, and was kissing her neck and pinching a hardening nipple through her blouse, when she asked about his plans for Sunday.

"Doing more of this," he said, without pausing and wondering why she would bother asking.

"Well, what if I told your dad I was going shopping then parked around the block, walked home and snuck into your room?" she asked breathlessly, grinding her hips against him.

As intent as he was in his activities, her suggestion made him stop for a moment, caught up in the possibilities, before attacking her with renewed vigor. "If you 'leave'," he said, emphasizing the quotation marks with two quick tweaks of her nipple, "just as the game is starting, we'd have at least two or three hours together."

"Mm-hmm," she whispered between nibbles on his earlobe, "and think of all we could do in in two hours."

His mouth left her neck and found her lips. He kissed her intensely, causing her heart to flutter. No man had ever made her feel so desired, so needed, so craved, or so loved. All too soon, he broke the kiss, leaving her leaning against the wall in confusion: He had seldom been the one to break a kiss. "Where are you going?" she asked, feeling somewhat abandoned.

He turned, looking as if he might do cartwheels down the hall. "I have to straighten my room, and wash my sheets, and vacuum my floor, and find some air freshener, and..." he said, ticking each item off on his fingers as his list of chores lengthened. When at last he came to the end of his list, he shrugged, smiling, and started towards his room. He had gone all of two steps when he came dashing back, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, nearly causing her to squeal. He kissed her one more time, adoringly, before setting her down again and running to his room.

His giddiness was contagious, and Ellen found herself dancing down the hallway.

Sunday morning after breakfast, she caught him alone for a minute and whispered in his ear. "White satin or black thong?"

He took no time in deciding. She was stunning in a thong, but her white satin panties would always have a special place in his heart. He told her as much. She was a bit surprised, but very, very pleased.

His dad was settled in his recliner, snacks on the coffee table, a cooler of beer on the floor beside him and the game turned up loud, when Ellen kissed him on the cheek and said she would be back in a while.

"Sounds good," he replied, not looking up from the game.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael got her text: 'Watching the game?'

'Yep'

They had established a cardinal rule early on that nothing romantic was to be put in writing: No notes, no texts, no emails, no journal entries, and absolutely no love letters. When he had agreed to this rule, Michael had thought it would be a cinch. As their relationship grew, however, and he couldn't shout from the rooftops what a wonderful woman his mother was, it became harder and harder to adhere to. He felt like a balloon about to pop, his only release being those moments when he caught her alone and could whisper in her ear how beautiful she was, how he dreamed about her, how he adored her.

Ellen had at first brushed off his comments as the ramblings of a perpetually turned-on nineteen-year-old boy trying to get his hands on her assets. Then she noticed that he was most effusive when he was simply sitting close to her, or holding her hand, or looking into her eyes; and she realized he was expressing himself honestly, baring his unfiltered feelings for her to see. There were moments, if she was being wholly honest with herself, when she was frightened by his adulation. So many things could go wrong in so many ways. How many people would abandon them if they found out? What scars would they both have when this affair had run its course? Would he be better off in the long run thinking this was just a fling to her, or should she bare her heart to him as well?

When she received his text, however, she was not thinking of anything beyond her pounding heart. In keeping with their cardinal rule, her response was innocuous:

':)'

He met her at the door and quietly ushered her up to his room.

She was impressed with the job he had done cleaning. The bed was neatly done, the floor was clean, his shelves and desk were uncluttered, and there was a pleasant smell - like fresh linen - neither too floral nor too 'chemical-y'. Then she noticed he had hidden away the things that had made this a boy's room. His Lego sets, model cars and action figures had all disappeared. She was sure other things were missing too, but she couldn't remember everything that had adorned his walls and shelves just the day before. Deep inside she felt a sense of loss. He was young once more, staring at her eye-to-eye with his goofy grin, so proud of his recently acquired height, and she knew he would never be her little boy again. She heard the door softly shut behind her and was wrenched back to the present.

Michael stood beside her, watching her survey the room quietly. He wished he could read her mind. "Is it okay, mom?" he asked, seeking reassurance, "Did I miss anything?"

She looked at him, smiling. "No, it's perfect," she said, leaning in for a kiss. And it was because he was her man.

Neither of them was certain what to expect in those first few minutes. The sexual tension that had built between them over the past few days was palpable. Ellen wouldn't have been terribly surprised, or terribly disappointed for that matter, had he torn open her blouse, ripped away her jeans, thrown her on his bed and had his way with her. For his part, Michael didn't know whether to expect the fiery, I-want-you-now lover he had seen on several occasions, or the tender, cuddly and sensitive woman that felt more like the mother he had known all his life. The kiss felt more like the latter and he took her lead.

Although their lips and tongues were familiar now, having long ago learned what each other liked, there was a sense of anticipation that permeated this kiss, making it new and exciting. It had started slowly, a tender brushing of their lips against one another, a brief meeting of their tongues, a gentle nibble. It quickly became impassioned and breathless.

Their hands mimicked their mouths, their touches, almost chaste at first, became urgent and bold. Michael's hands found her ass, as they were wont to do, pulling her tight against him while simultaneously cupping, caressing, and massaging her most erotic feature. Ellen whimpered at his touch, and at the sensation of his cock pressing against her stomach, growing and stiffening.

"Do you want to sit on the bed?" she asked, breathlessly.

He nodded and released her from his grip. She took his hand and led him across the room. They sat hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, and gazed into each other's eyes blissfully. Michael put one arm around her, a hand resting on her waist. His other hand caressed her cheek. She took his hand, kissed his palm and each finger in turn, then returned her mouth to his. As they kissed his hand drifted down, tracing the line of her neck, over her clavicle and onto her breast. She broke the kiss just long enough to tell him she was wearing the same bra as she had on Fall Day, eliciting a moan from him. She felt warm all over knowing that she could cause such a visceral reaction in him with only a memory. He pinched her nipple and felt it stiffen between his fingers.

Ellen's hand went to his knee, then, moving slowly, she traced her fingers along the inside of his thigh and over his groin. Using only her fingernails, she teased his cock through his jeans, marveling at how hard he was for her. She smiled through their kiss when she touched the head of his cock and felt it jump. "Do you like that?" she whispered in a husky voice, running her fingertips over his most sensitive spot.