My Mother, My Lover Ch. 01bybumblegrum©
"First, we demand that he transfers the title of this house and all its contents into your name absolutely. No exceptions, except for his own personal stuff, clothes, golf clubs and perhaps his beloved Mercedes."
"I never liked that car, anyway," Mum commented.
"Now, Mum, you're the financial expert. What do you think he's worth, excluding the house?"
"Hmm," she pondered. "Three years ago I saw a complete tax audit that set his assets at $10 mil, including this house, which was valued at around $¾ mil. Since then, he's made a fortune in property speculation and selling short when the stock market collapsed. I doubt that his assets would now be less than $15 mil. Plus, he stands to inherit around $5 mil from his mother, who is not a healthy woman. Say $20 million all up."
"Yeah, okay, Mum. What say we discount the inheritance which could be a bit speculative, and say that he will pay a sum of $7.5 million into a trust account held in your name by our lawyer, Scotty Thompson?"
"Scotty?" Mum chuckled. "Your father loathes him -- that makes him the ideal choice! But we have to be careful and not overplay our hand. How about going for the $7.5 mil with a fallback position of $6 million if he shows signs of calling our bluff?"
"Sounds good, Mum -- but not one red cent less. And a couple of other things too -- I imagine you might be considering a divorce?"
"Then he will not contest the divorce in any shape or form, although I also imagine that, given this payment, you wouldn't be looking for any extra settlement?"
Mum nodded again.
"Okay, and most importantly if there is any harm or threat of harm to you or me, Mum, again, in any shape or form, or any threats to your career or my potential career, the DVD is released immediately."
Okay, Jesse, I think that about covers it. Now, when?"
"Well, he'll be out all day at the golf club, playing then celebrating or commiserating until all hours. So perhaps as soon as he puts in an appearance tomorrow morning. He'll be pretty fragile and perhaps less likely to turn nasty."
Mum laughed. "Nasti-er, you mean, don't you, honey? But, I like your thinking. We'll need to make sure we're here in the lounge around nine o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Deal, Mum -- now it's your turn to wear the pants!"
The following morning, Mum and I waited impatiently for Dad to put in an appearance. He had returned in the early hours, making a lot of noise and had probably had a skinful. He came slowly down the stairs, and I called to him as he made his way to the front door. "Hey, Denzel, got a minute?"
My father stopped and walked ponderously into the lounge. He looked decidedly under the weather. "What did you call me?" he barked.
"You heard," I replied arrogantly, although my heart was in my mouth.
"Now listen here, young man, you will address me with the respect I deserve."
"Oh, I'm sorry -- with the respect you deserve? Okay, got a minute, dickhead?"
I thought he was going to burst with rage and indignation. "You insolent piece of shit. Get your belongings together and leave my house this minute!"
"Or what?" I responded.
"Or I call the cops and have you thrown out."
"Sounds like a good idea. Yes, please call the cops."
That stopped him for just long enough to get under his guard. "All we're saying is give us five minutes to show you a short video ..."
"I don't give a damn about any video, I'm calling the cops now," and he reached for his mobile phone.
"And then there will be hell to pay, as you said to Marlene", I countered.
You really could have heard the proverbial pin drop. My father went white and whispered, "What did you say?"
"Just watch this," I answered, and turned on the video. After less than two minutes, my father seemed to collapse in on himself and gave a coarse howl like an animal in pain. His complexion turned to a repulsive grey/green and he rushed from the room.
I followed him at a distance and heard him vomiting violently in the downstairs bathroom. He returned about ten minutes later, looking totally devastated. "So what's it going to cost me?
Mum was brisk and to the point. "The house and contents signed over to me and a cash payment of $7.5 million into our lawyer's trust account."
"You've got to be joking. Not in a thousand years." He laughed a dry laugh.
"I don't think you quite realise where you really stand, father." I took over, "I'm sure the Chief Justice and Attorney-General will be fascinated when they come to decide on the nominee for the State Legal Council, to say nothing of your chances of ever becoming a judge, or the senior partner at your firm. Not to mention your mother's testamentary dispositions or your media involvement in the so-called 'new morality'."
"I see," he muttered, "doesn't look as if I've got too many options if you're determined to blackmail me."
Mum was defiant. "After the way you've treated Jesse and me, it's our way out of a miserable marriage and away from a control freak of a father."
I watched my father during this exchange, and noticed a feral expression cross his face.
Mum continued, "Two other things. First, you will not oppose any divorce proceedings that I may bring, although there won't be any question of a further settlement -- you can consider this to be our divorce settlement."
My father just grunted, but his eyes still held the savage expression.
"And finally, if any, and I repeat, any harm comes to Jesse or me, or if there is any attempt to harm us, threat to harm us or create any disadvantage to my career or any future career of Jesse's, our lawyer has been instructed to release the DVD for public interest. And I don't care who might be responsible. So far as we're concerned, you are the culprit."
The expression had disappeared from my father's face.
"You've got a week to arrange the transfer and make the payment; you'll need to arrange that with Scotty Thompson and you've got 48 hours to leave this house." Mum put the final seal on the ultimatum.
"Thompson? That shyster -- you must be crazy," he spat out.
"Maybe, but those are the conditions," Mum was adamant.
"Don't worry; I won't stay in this snake pit a minute longer than necessary. I'll be gone by this evening. I presume I'm allowed to take the Merc.?"
"Of course," Mum was sweetly reasonable.
My father turned to me, "She's your problem now. You'll need all the patience and luck in the world. But don't come crawling to me when it gets too tough."
"Just get out," I shouted, resisting the temptation to take a swing at him.
By 8.00 pm, he was gone and the house seemed lighter and cleaner for his going.
The following day, Mum rang Scotty Thompson, who was fascinated by the whole issue; Mum sold the deal as a pre-divorce settlement, and I arranged for a locksmith to change all the locks in the house. For the rest of the week, the atmosphere was so tense, it could have been cut with a knife. On the following Monday, I returned from university to be greeted by Mum throwing herself into my arms, hugging me as tightly as she knew how, and covering my face with sloppy wet kisses. She was almost incoherent with glee -- "It's all fixed Jesse, he paid up without a whimper, now the house is mine and I've got the loot. And you will stay here for as long as you like, and have access to whatever you need."
"And does that mean I get more big hugs and wet sloppy kisses whenever I like?" I asked, trying to appear artless.
"Behave yourself," Mum laughed, "or you will get a good spanking from me instead."
"Promises, promises," I chuckled, dodging quickly from Mum's attempt to swat my arse. "And if you keep behaving like this, you too will get a good spanking across your gorgeous bum."
"Promises, promises," Mum mimicked.
I was out again the following day, but when I returned early in the evening, I had a shock. Mum was slumped in the lounge, completely smashed. She rarely drank more than a glass or two of champagne, and it was the first time I'd ever seen her like this. "Mum, what on earth ..." I started, but she stood unsteadily and grabbed me in her arms.
"I've ... (hic)...I've sheen how you look at me, I know you want to squeeze my tits and I know you want to get into my panties, so now you can really show me how you feel. Take me to bed and fuck me until I can't take any more, then turn me over and fuck my arse off, lover boy." Her voice was slurred and her breath stank of brandy.
"No, Mum, not with you in this condition. I'm not going to take advantage of you like that."
"Oh, don't be such a wimp. I want you to pinch my nipples until I scream then have that big cock of yours fill up my cunt and make me cum all night."
"No, Mum, like I said -- but, I tell you what, I will take you upstairs to your bedroom."
"Oh goody," she mumbled, "and then you can do me."
I said nothing more, but helped her to her bedroom. As we stumbled up the stairs, Mum threw her arms around my neck and mumbled, "I've been a ver' naughty girl and I need to be punished." I ignored this, and the drunken giggle that followed, although I did give her a gentle smack on her heart shaped bum.
The truth was that I was feeling very aroused, and my cock was giving me clear messages. Even though the "black cloud" was now gone, I simply couldn't give in to my lust with Mum in this state. So I managed to restrain myself (but only just) and helped her remove her tee shirt, jeans and sneakers, all of this punctuated by more highly explicit demands for what she wanted me to do to her. But then I simply picked her up and rolled her into her bed, kissed her on the cheek and left the room. She shouted for a few minutes, and then went silent, and shortly after I checked on her and she was sleeping soundly.
I was sitting in the kitchen next morning drinking coffee and reading the paper when Mum came down looking very pale, very fragile and very sheepish.
"Jesse, honey, I am SO sorry about last night", she said, barely able to look at me. "I don't know what got into me. I felt so lonely, so frustrated and so horny that I just wanted ..."
"Mum, please don't worry about it. Truth be told, I was very flattered that you should think of me like that, and it took all my willpower not to do as I was told. But I wasn't prepared to take advantage of you when you'd had too much to drink, regardless of whether you thought you wanted me or not. I love you, Mum, and I won't do anything that might hurt you; I know you thought you wanted to seduce me, but I couldn't go there in those circumstances -- even if it might have made all my fantasies come true."
Mum's expression changed, and I thought she might have come to some important decision, but then she just said, "Thank you, honey. I love you so much, and I really do appreciate what you did," and left it at that, which I thought was a little unusual for Mum, because when she had an attack of the guilts, she usually wanted to work through the issue at length. But maybe this was different, and dwelling on it was too difficult for her. Then the phone rang and any opportunity for further discussion disappeared.
Mum finished on the phone and said, "Jesse, sorry about this but I'm going back to bed for a while, then I have to go out."
"Mum, you won't forget it's my 21st birthday on Saturday, will you?"
"Don't worry, sweetie, how could I possibly forget", and she disappeared to her room.
For the rest of that week, I hardly saw Mum at all, not entirely unusual, but I had a suspicion that she was trying to avoid me for some reason. I chewed over why this might be, but got nowhere. When I did see her, I dropped one or two hints about my birthday, but she was quite noncommittal, and I let it ride.
On the Saturday morning, Mum brushed past me with a hasty, "Hi Jesse, honey, happy birthday. I'm so sorry but I have to go out again, go out and celebrate with your mates and I'll be in touch later."
This puzzled me even more, but I joined my mates at our favourite club and had a couple of beers, but my heart wasn't really in it. I got home in the early afternoon to find a message pinned to the front door of the house, "Be at the concierge desk of the Metropole Hotel at 6.30 pm PRECISELY." Then the penny dropped -- Mum had arranged a surprise party for me at one of the swishest hotels in town. Then, when I got an SMS on my mobile phone with the same message, I felt it confirmed my suspicions. So I showered, changed into my smartest smart casual wear and headed for the hotel. At the desk, the concierge said, "Ah yes, Mr Mason, do you have some identification, please?" I showed him my driver's licence, and he handed me a key card, saying, "Suite 23, 6th Floor".
I took the life to the sixth floor, found suite 23 and swiped the key card. The room was dimly lit, and I hesitated a little before walking in when a familiar voice called out, "Come right in, Jesse."
Standing in the middle of the lounge room was my mother, as I had never seen her before. She stood in front of me wearing a sheer black baby doll negligee that did little to cover very much, but showed off her undoubted assets to best effect. She was breathing heavily and trembling slightly. She was obviously very excited; I could see her tits through the filmy negligee, and her nipples were standing out proudly from dark areolas.
Her hair was swept to one side of her head, giving her an extra seductive look and her perfume was a heady mixture of Chanel No. 5 and aroused woman. Her makeup was a little more overstated than usual with blood red lipstick and nail polish, and this was finished off with 5" strappy heels.
"Jesus, Mum, you look like every guy's wettest dream. Is this part of a surprise party you've planned for me?"
Mum laughed a deep, incredibly sexy chuckle and slowly shimmied towards me, her breasts bouncing gently as she did so, and her hips swaying in time to some hidden music in a way that offered an almost irresistible invitation.
She linked her arms around my neck and kissed me, a sweet unhurried kiss, with her tongue stroking gently along my lips. Mum looked deeply into my eyes; "Not quite, sweetie -- this is the "surprise party" -- I'm your 21st birthday present. I'm your plaything and you can do anything you like with me or to me. Your choice, darling, wherever your fantasies take you."