Wire-Pulling Pt. 03 (End)

It was Tim. Why was he calling? Why was I naked? Why were Mom's arms still wrapped around my waist, with her body now lying diagonally across the mattress as if she had just let me pull her along when I moved to sit on the edge of the bed and grab my phone?

"What are you talking about, Tim?"

"What...? Boss said it's moving day for you, but you won't answer the door. I... uh... didn't think it would be a good idea to use my key again."

Slowly my mind started working again. We were supposed to move into the Shelter today! With another glance at the clock on the bedside table, I finally remembered that I came home at about three in the morning, but then engaged in that rather extended fuckfest with Mom before actually making it into bed. So, I got maybe two hours of proper sleep last night. At least that explained why I was reeling. It was safe to say, while two hours of sleep is a lot more than a power nap, it wasn't nearly enough after the day I had! It's true what they say; pulling an all-nighter and not sleeping at all is a lot easier on the body than sleeping too little.

"Okay. Uh... give us a minute here. I'm dead tired after yesterday and didn't think you'd show up this early." My hand tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes so I'd may be able to open them fully, but it didn't help at all. "Wait! Didn't Bill say something about having to prepare the place first? Why are you already here?"

"We did that last night, Dude!" Tim said with an exasperated sigh before chuckling. "What? Did you think we'd take our sweet-ass time preparing the safe house and let you stay in the apartment after the boss determined that it's no longer safe!? Dude... you must be more beaten than I thought!"

"You can say that again!" At that moment, I felt Mom stir awake as well. Though, instead of simply getting up, she chose to lazily place butterfly kisses along my back and around my waist as she snaked her body around mine, seemingly determined to kiss her way towards my groin. This felt... weird. Like waking up next to a lover who was eager to continue the endearments we started in the night. It was at that moment I realized what Tim possibly meant by not wanting to simply use his key and barge in here. "Well, sorry, we'll need a few minutes. How about you go to school, given how it's Wednesday, and we'll pack, hmmkay?"

I could barely contain my moan at the end of that sentence, as Mom's head finally reached my lap and I felt those soft lips lovingly caress the tip of my cock.

"Yeah, first of all: You're not my real Dad! You don't get to tell me what to do!" he said in a fake-whiny voice before continuing in a more serious tone. "Second of all: Even if I leave... you don't think I'm here alone, do ya?"

"Oh..." was all I could say to that. Of course, Bill wouldn't send Tim to pick us up. He was probably only here to pack up the surveillance gear. And because he had a key. Others would make sure we'd arrive safely at our destination. "Sorry. Yeah. Still... I'll need ten minutes or so. I kinda missed the chance to tell Mom about our move last night."

As I said those words, Mom's head stopped bopping on my pole and, instead, she looked up at me with big, surprised eyes, though she refused to let me slip out of her mouth. Now she was just suckling on my tip, which didn't exactly make this easier for me.

"Sure," Tim replied before hanging up the phone.

It could be my imagination, but the way he pronounced that word sounded like he didn't believe the delay was because I had to tell Mom first. It sounded more like he knew exactly what Mom was doing at that very moment.

"Mom... you have to stop."

My eyes involuntarily closed themselves and a shudder went through my body as Mom sucked her way off my crown to release it with a loud plopping noise.

"Why, Son?" She was still lying in my lap, her big, beautiful, and cushion-like breasts pressed into my left thigh. The way she now looked up at me with those big, doe-like eyes, as if pleading to let her continue, didn't help either.

"We need to start packing. My friends are waiting outside. Sorry, but something happened last night. It's no longer safe here."

Now her eyes widened a little as I felt her body stiffen. "What happened?"

"Some guys grabbed me off the road and brought me to a corporate black site." Now she jumped up and looked at me in utter shock. "I managed to get away fine, but... This is a whole new level. I can't think of anyone but Dick's minions who'd have an interest in doing that. So, we're moving into the Shelter."

I smiled as she lunched forward to start inspecting my body, even lifting my arms to look underneath my armpits, before placing her hands on either side of my face and searching my eyes.

"You sure you're okay, Paulie?"

My smile widened as I felt how much she worried for me. I couldn't help it. I leaned forward before she could react and kissed her. It didn't take long for her to return the gesture and I heard her softly hum before our lips parted again.

"Yes, Mom, I'm perfectly fine. But... there's a possible problem." I took a deep breath before continuing. "The Shelter is a safe house my firm maintains. That means that it's under complete 24/7 video surveillance. So, the people I work with will learn everything we do and talk about while living there."

At this point, I saw the realization of what I was trying to tell her creep into her face.

"You mean... everything-everything?"

"Yes. Every square inch of every room is covered by cameras. Even the bathroom. We have a second condo on an adjacent plot, where two of my colleagues will watch the live feeds and come running if anything appears out of the ordinary. That live feed will cover every room apart from the bathroom."

"Oh..."

For some reason, she looked at me with worry on her face. Not disappointed over the fact we won't be able to have sex anymore, and also not nervous over having to move into a real-life version of the Big Brother house. And, given how she only showed that expression after some time of contemplation about our new situation, I didn't think she was worried about what I just told her regarding my last night.

Again, maybe it was just my imagination, but it felt like she was worried about how I would react, or rather how I would treat her, if she no longer had the option to satisfy my sexual needs. This is exactly what I had worried about the night before, when she continuously told me about this being all she was good for. I just hoped I could use that time to ease her worries and prove to her that she is worth more than what Dick turned her into.

"It's okay, Mom. But as I said... they're waiting for us outside. So, we need to start."

"Yes, Paulie."

Despite her sounding anything but eager to make this move, she didn't protest in any way. She just gave me a soft kiss on the cheek before getting up to her feet and leaving the room. Luckily, we barely had anything to pack. All my clothes, plus the ones in the washing machine, were still in my travel bag, while Mom only had what we bought her the first day after getting her out of jail. So, all she had to do was stuff all of that back into the shopping bags and we were ready to go.

While I had simply thrown on the same clothes I had worn the day before to save some time, when Mom came out of her bedroom, she had put on a rather conservative-looking dress. The best way for me to describe it would be to call it puffy, as it did a spectacular job of completely hiding her figure. It also didn't show any cleavage and reached down to right above her ankles. Interestingly, as we made our way out to the door and I offered her my arm, she refrained from hooking herself into it like she had done when visiting the office. She just kept her hands folded in front of her and gave me an insecure look. I frowned.

"You know," I started. "You don't have to keep your distance from me just because there'll be cameras watching us from now on. We're still mother and son. I can still hug you."

This made her smile. Soon, though, her gaze fell to the floor as her facial features morphed into a shy expression.

"I just... I don't want to cause you any problems, Paulie. I didn't know what to do. So... I wanted to make sure I'm prepared for however you want me to handle this situation."

Now I frowned again. Though, this time, it wasn't out of worry, but confusion.

"You prepared? What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, her shoulders slumped a little bit as her hands unfolded. Leaning forward, her hands lowered themselves until, when they reached about the height of her knees, she grabbed her skirt and started lifting it.

My eyes widened when the rising hem of her skirt revealed more and more of her legs until, as her head now turned sideways in another shamed attempt to hide her face from me, I learned that she wasn't wearing pantyhose but stockings, held up by straps attached to a garter belt, and all of that combined with a rather transparent, lacy thong. The longer I looked at her, the harder it became to contain myself. Seeing her in that demure and conservative dress, just to then learn how it was hiding the sauciest lingerie I could imagine, was arousing as hell! As she stood there, unmoving and continuously exposing her lower body to me, I saw a small sheepish smile spread on her lips as she apparently enjoyed doing this for me.

Or -- and I almost liked this idea even more -- she enjoyed teasing me. After all, she was doing this to me right after she was unable to finish her morning service on my cock, so she must have known that I was already in a randy mood. In my head, if Mom was able to tease me, knowing full well that there was no way for me to partake in her body, this must mean that she was no longer worried about me punishing her for such behavior, like Dick would have undoubtedly done. And that thought made me rather happy!

"Well..." I said, unable to stop staring at the little bump in her panties where her clit was hidden. "That's... something, alright."

I took a dry swallow and, as if to confirm my earlier hope, saw the smile on her face widen. We didn't get to fully enjoy the moment, however, because, just then, someone started pounding on the door, causing Mom to immediately let her skirt fall down and hide her body again.

I made a spectacle out of loudly groaning in frustration as I moved to open the door.

"Dude! Ten minutes were up, like, five minutes ago!" Tim said in annoyance. "Don't you know I have to get to school?" He theatrically shook his head as he placed his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. "So inconsiderate!"

"Seriously?" I laughed. "Fine, do your thing. We're ready to leave."

"Ah, just one thing," Tim said as he held up his hand to stop us. Then he continued in a lower voice. "You know that the whole condo is under video surveillance, right?"

"Yeah, I already told her. Don't worry, we'll be careful."

"Good. Now, Ms. Anderson," he leaned towards her as if he was hinting at something. "What Paul probably didn't remember to tell you is that the boys will watch the live feeds of all the rooms. However, the feed of the bathroom will only be recorded. The recording will only cover the last six hours at any point in time, and they're stored in a directory protected with a password that only I and the boss know. We won't look at the recordings as long as we don't have a reason to. So, you two will have at least a modicum of privacy."

"Oh!" Mom called out in obvious relief. "Thank you!"

"Don't mention it. Let's hope this whole thing will be over soon."

That 'reason' he spoke about told me that nobody would ever look at the bathroom recordings unless the live feed showed one of us hiding in there after a breach, or so we could make sure nothing had been planted in there after an outsider used the bathroom.

"Alright, thanks, Tim" was all I said before holding out my hand for Mom and leading her out the door. As expected, Tim stayed behind to take care of the surveillance station.

"Good morning!" I greeted Micheal and another one of my colleagues when we reached the car and threw our bags in the trunk.

"Finally! Took you long enough," Micheal commented.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's all a little hectic this morning." I replied, causing him and our colleague to perk up as I pulled out a business card. "I take it you two are our detail for now?" They nodded. "Before we can make the drive to the Shelter, I need to visit the professor so I can finish the report for Bill."

Micheal looked at the business card I gave him and nodded with a slight frown. He really didn't care where the drive would go, but he would have liked a short warning so he could plot the route and, if necessary, scout the area by sending someone ahead.

I opened the car door for Mom and held it open while helping her get in. She thanked me for that with a marvelous smile and a sparkle in her eyes. I hoped this display of how there was absolutely no need to distance herself from me, just because my colleagues were watching, did the trick in calming her down.

As we sat in the backseat after Michael started the drive, however, Mom still remained silent. Not a single word was spoken as all of us were understandably tense, and the three of us were occupied with our favorite traveling game: Making up songs in our heads to remember car models and their license plates. So, I didn't worry about her too much, but I still couldn't help but worry. It felt like, last night, we reached some kind of critical turning point in our relationship, though that impression was mainly caused by the way she clung to me this morning. I just truly hoped I was right about that.

I had met Professor Thorne at a training lecture Bill had insisted on about two years ago. After the lectures were over, Thorne had decided to let the evening ring out in the hotel bar, where I, on a whim, decided to join him. He was over seventy years old, and all the man spoke about was his field of expertise, but it was interesting regardless and he seemed to appreciate my genuine interest in listening to his tales. It was then I learned that the man had acted as an expert witness in multiple cases already, so his word had some weight behind it. If he would determine that the signature used to open those bank accounts wasn't Mom's, this would be proof we could use to exonerate her. Ideally, I'd have sent someone else to Thorne's house as to not alert whoever might be watching us of retaining the man's services, but, in this special case, Mom had to meet the man in person to give her signature samples in front of a witness. And there was no way I'd let her go alone.

Regular working hours, or even a proper office, were no longer in the professor's life. That's why we drove to his private residence close to the UH main campus, where he was employed, without even bothering to try and make an appointment. It just wasn't the way the old man operated.

"Ah! Mr. White!" I was greeted by Professor Thorne after he opened the door for us. "Pleasure to see you again! Please, come in!"

He stepped aside to let us enter and, as we passed him, greeted Mom with a slight, formal bow of his head. Then, without another word, he extended his arm and led us to his study room. "So, what can I do for you?"

Handing him the leather pouch holding the documents he needed to look at, I spoke up.

"Well, it's not necessarily me who needs your help. It's my mother." I gestured towards Mom and his attention shifted to her.

"My pleasure, Mrs. White," he greeted her politely while opening the zipper of the document pouch, but, for some reason, I felt Mom's still present hold on my hand intensify when he said those words. "And how can I help you two, then?"

"First, don't you worry, I'm still going to retain your services," I chuckled. "My mother is being accused of opening a bank account with an offshore bank. I'm trying to prove that someone opened that account fraudulently in her name. They used her marriage certificate instead of an actual photo ID, and they opened the account online, so there's nothing but her signature on the paperwork tying her to that."

"Ah," was all he commented as he sorted through the documents.

"That dossier contains a copy of the paperwork filed with the offshore bank, a copy of the paperwork filed with her actual bank, a copy of her marriage certificate sent to the offshore bank, and the original of the representation agreement she signed with her lawyer a few weeks ago. I was hoping you could take a look at these documents and tell me whether her signature was simply copied off the marriage certificate."

Thorne took the documents and carried them over to his monstrosity of a desk that had some kind of magnifying glass attached to it with an adjustable arm. He studied the documents for a minute or so, before raising his head.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. White," Again, Mom's hold on my hand became firmer for some reason. "This is just a preliminary assessment. You know already that the definitive report will take a few days, and for a definitive answer I'd need the original paperwork filed with that bank."

"Professor, your 'preliminary assessments' usually turn out to be correct. So, if you tell me what you think now, I can get to work on my own report and reference your final conclusions afterwards."

"Alright. To me, it's rather obvious that these four documents were signed with two different names. I'll send the bill to your office, like usual?"

I blinked at the man for a few seconds, before he started chuckling.

"Forgive me, Mr. White. I guess you haven't heard. During the last case I acted as an expert witness in court, the prosecution tried to push the idea that, thanks to my progressing age, I may have become senile."

"You serious!?"

"Yes, indeed. I find it to be rather amusing, to be perfectly honest with you. But jokes aside, at first glance, something seems to be wrong with the signature on the account opening form. I will need some time to inspect it and make sure what I'm seeing right now isn't just because of a low-resolution scan, but I'm... about seventy percent sure."

"How long do you think you need?" I asked excitedly before showing Mom my wide smile.

"Hmm... Come back at around four this afternoon. By then, I should have something for your report ready. That is, of course, if your dear mother has the time to fill out the sample form?" he said, giving Mom a questioning look, which she immediately redirected to me.

"Yes! Sure!" I nodded before looking at Mom. "Remember? I told you he'll have you sign a piece of paper a couple of times."

"Wonderful. Let me just get my TA in here to act as the witness," Thorne commented before picking up the phone from his desk.

"Now, Mrs. White, if you would," Thorne continued about twenty minutes later, after his TA had finally arrived, and Mom was looking at the sample form. "Please sign on all ten lines with this pen here."

"Why so many times?" Mom asked.

"To make sure your muscle memory kicks in and so I can watch your movements as you sign." Mom nodded and did as asked. "Splendid! Thank you very much."

With that, Thorne took the form off the table and placed it with his other documents on his desk, where he promptly sat down, placed the magnifying glass over the marriage certificate, and left it to his TA to lead us back outside.

"Micheal, I'll need someone to come back here at around four p.m. and pick up his report," I said when we reached the car.

"No Problem-O!" Michael called out before chuckling. "I'll tell Poindexter that he can pick it up on his way to the office after school. Maybe he'll stay in school till it's out that way!"

I just shook my head. Though, I couldn't say that he was wrong.