I am 67 now, in 1971 at 14 mom and I became lovers and it would last 24 years.
Mom & Me
First, some background information of events in 1969 that sets the stage for what’s to come in the fall of 1971.
I was 12 when my mom threw my abusive father out. The physical and psychological abuse had been enough. The church be damned she was getting a divorce. To which us 6 kids were quite relieved. I was the oldest, 5 boys and 1 girl… our sister and youngest brother were twins, 8 years my junior.
Having been the oldest I had experienced the most, seen the most, been scared the most and cried the most. Some in fear; but mostly because of the wanting for the safety of mom. She took so much of the brunt of everything, protecting us kids. It was all over. I had to grow up fast and put away childish endeavors. Fortunately, I was always an old soul, a straight A student and grasped very well what needed to be done. For the next two years mom and I grew closer than ever. Being the late 60’s and early 70’s where teens were rebellious – I became very domesticated, an Adult if you will. It’s been shaving and gone through puberty at 11 years old. I was the height I am today (6’-2”) by the start of school the August of 1970.
Fast forward 2 years to April of 1971.
I got my first job on my 14th birthday, in April of 197. I worked after school until 10pm and 10a to 10p the weekends. It was at a Full Service Gas Station, where I worked 10am to 10pm – 7 days a week once school was out. I loved every minute of the job. I had my own money, being amongst adults that liked me, ability to help mom with buying groceries. And my own self confidence was growing. I was on cloud nine. School started in August, it was now 1971 Life was pretty good; I thought. Yes there were still nightmares of the past but I just shook them off and fell beck asleep, they were becoming fewer and fewer.
I would get home from work, mom would meet me at the door and lock the door behind me, ask about my day as she would begin warming my Dinner as I showered. I would for the most part sit at our kitchen bar in my “tidy whities” and eat my ‘warmed over’ dinner with mom across from me with coffee or sweet tea. We would talk about anything and everything. Everything from our simply being “poor” (she was getting food stamps) life in general to world politics, sex and sex education (yes we had numerous version of “The Talk” during these conversations). Mom was a very Progressive Liberal – a Kennedy Democrat. Short of her Catholic upbringing, she knew and taught us the practical realities of life. She had been the valedictorian of her class at a Catholic High School, in 1954. The 21 years between us disappeared during this conversations. We were equals for those hours.
As it would be there were times my siblings would eat my portion of dinner or there simply wasn’t enough. On these late nights I would have a couple of cheese and mayo sandwiches or fried egg sandwiches or whatever Mom could throw together. I always appreciated those few late night hours that first summer and into the fall of ’71 because, I had mom to myself, and didn’t have to share her time with my siblings. It was one of those late nights, a Saturday to which this writing is centered upon.
The details:
It was one of those afore mentioned fall evenings; I got home at my usual 10:15 p.m. Mom, there waiting, another “no leftover hot meal” waiting, sandwiches again. Mom was not quite as talkative as usual but that wasn’t all that unusual; so I passed it off as just a long day. Heck mine was 7a to 10 p and I was tired myself. I got my shower, ate and enjoy the minimal yet small-talk conversation with mom. Once I was finished she did the dishes and I broke out my homework, just an hour or so I mumbled. (Yes, homework on a Saturday night, I was a Nerd). Mom saw the stack of books and nodded in approval, mentioned she was going to bed. I said “good night” and she replied – “let me know when you go to bed, stop at my door and say good night, again”. That was a new and unusual comment I thought, but as I had with the light small talk conversation – I discarded it and thought no more of it. Onto my homework.
Pardon me as I digress; to acknowledge one more detail of the past few years since the divorce. Mom and I often cooked together and actual performed house work together. That is when I wasn’t working or some extracurricular activity at school. But, on Holidays or a Sunday family dinner (I got one Sunday off for every 5) we were inseparable in the kitchen. Two things, I had accepted my role as the second adult in the home and had become a momma’s boy, of sorts.
Thanks for your indulgence, now back to the story…
Once the homework done, books and all put away, I headed off towards my room, (the one I shared with my #2 and #3 brothers). As requested. I stopped at mom’s doorway – we closed bedroom doors when going to bed – but she had left hers open for me. Just as I was about to say the requested “Good Night” I heard something, listened again, yes she was sniffling, softly crying. I asked “what’s wrong? She said, “Just nothing and everything”. I had no words, at first, then out came “anything I can do?” – Silence – For what seemed minutes, but was seconds. I finally hear; “Come here, sit and talk with me”.
I approached.[No nerves or no worries, being in her room with her nylon pastel above the knee night gown and me in my underwear only was inconsequential, no different than our bedroom as all doors were always opened prior to bedtime. We all ran around in our underwear at night.]
I got to her bedside and she patted the bed for me to sit. I did and she began to talk, in between the sniffling, but talked – I just listened. Not as a teenager half-heartedly but truly listened.
[Did I mention that her night gown was very see-through when the light from her lamp hit it just right? Not a big deal, as I said the 7 of us ran around in underwear all the time. So, I was still oblivious to my near future.]She spoke of the bills, and taking care of us, the house, life’s pressures and the weight on her shoulders. She spoke of her appreciation for my stepping up but apologized for my losing a childhood. She then, as the sniffles became crying – and told me she was lonely, missing adult companionship. And asked if I knew what she meant? Overwhelmed with all the information I was consuming I nodded yes even though I was sure I wasn’t understanding totally. She asked again; “do you?” I got out the words; “Yes mam” – but I hadn’t 100% grasped her words.She was sitting up in bed. I was sitting about mid bed on the edge. She touched my hand and said; “thank you”. And asked me to lie down beside her until she drifted off to sleep. She knew I wouldn’t be going to sleep as soon as I hit the bed. She then slid to the middle facing the other side and I slipped in beside her. I had no other thoughts, yet. I was at this time to comfort my sad mother. I mimicked her position in bed, on my side facing her backside. Wrapped my arm around her and lay my head on the pillow she had vacated. It seemed just my being there had lessened the sniffles. I was happy. Mom was still awake, as I could feel her move every so often. It was as if she couldn’t get close enough to me. So, I just pulled her to me and rested my head in the crook of her neck and the top of her shoulder. She left out a deep sigh as to let me know I had reacted correctly.
We lay like that for several moments; I had no other thought but that I was successfully comforting my mother in a moment of her being sad. Mom snuggled even closer. Placed her hand on my hand that was around her and relocated it to her breast. At that moment I knew what my mother meant in her previous comment of “missing adult companionship”.
Apologies for having to back up 2 years for more historical information…
Two years prior – before the divorce – in the summer of ’69 – I had “fooled” around with an older male cousin – his 14 and me 12 (another story to come). Also, upon their divorce I had snuck into mom’s room and acquired the “dirty” books I knew my dad most likely left behind. To which mom subsequently found out I had; and she didn’t take away, but gave me the Masturbation is Natural talk and just to hide and keep the magazines from my younger siblings. That was two years prior to the night in the fall of ’71.
Continuing on:
Mom didn’t move after relocating my hand. Knowing or thinking I knew what she was in need of; I moved my hand and lightly squeezed her breast. She sighed, and pressed tighter against me. My head being on her shoulder, near her neck I kissed it. She began to mover her butt against my groin. To which my body responded. As she was moving against me I kissed he neck more and squeezed tighter. I wasn’t long before she rolled towards me onto her back and I fumbled with the tidy whities. As I moved on top of her, our eyes met, she placed her finger over her lips as in the shhhhh – quiet sign. There was no kissing on the lips, only necks and breast, we had sex for not too long as I was a teenager, but for me it seemed an eternity and seconds at the same time.
At the conclusion, she made the Shhhhh signal again with her finger to her lips. I moved to my previous location and she hers, we slept. As her 6:30 alarm goes off, being on her normal side of the bed I left to make the coffee as it brews hop into the shower.
My parading around our home naked was not uncommon in coming or going to shower. It was what we did from toddlers to teenagers. So, when I came from the shower mom was drinking coffee and I grabbed my jeans and joined her. We spoke not of the incident of the night but of our day to come and of how she was looking forward to her day and in much higher spirits today than yesterday. I felt wonderful to have been of assistance in whatever way I had contributed to her change in mood.
In the weeks that passed we repeated the evening numerous times. It turned out that we had developed a code phrase. Or, she did – if I was doing homework and we shared good night pleasantries – she would or wouldn’t say; “stop by my door and let me know when you are done and say “good night”. We spoke more every time. Openly about sex, our like and dislikes. She worked at a university library, and would bring books home. Kama Sutra, The Story of O, 101 Sexual Positions. If she wanted me to do this or move that way, all request were acknowledged and obliged accordingly, as best I could. If fumbling or failure incurred – we laughed. Thanksgiving came and went without a hitch, we cooked and cleaned together for 2 days and hung out the Saturday and Sunday as I was off work as well as school.
For my entire high school 4 years (1971-’72 being by freshman year, and graduating in May of 1975) mom and I continued our love affair. I was still being grounded for whatever and she still demanded good grades. The “nighttime” didn’t effect her parenting skills she (and I) were able to keep the two separate.
There were Friday and Saturday evenings that I would crash at my friend Bert’s. He and I had had at least one class together from the first grade on. We finished each other’s sentences.
Apologies for more historical information…
Bert was the definition of a dumb jock and me the nerd/geek… Him ripped 6′-0″ @ 185# and me 6-2″ @ 140#. Me a bisexual equally attracted to girls and boys. The locker room was my Hell at school. I say this to say that I had had a crush on Bert every sense my encounter with my cousin in ’69. I eventually made a move on Bert one evening; on one of those Buzzed Sleepovers. It was a very successful move at that. Bert had his own entrance in their house and being buzzed as we were he raided the kitchen as I showered – private bath as well.
I ate on the provided munches as he showered sitting on his bed in only clean underwear. I had a stash of clothes there. He came from the shower naked and hopped in bed with the munchies, he thought nothing of it, drove me crazy. As we ate Twinkies chips, and cookies, and who knows what else watching Saturday Night Live. When SNL was over he said he was horny and if I didn’t mind he was going to break out a Hustler magazine and Jack-off. Gee he was driving me nuts. I just nodded and said grab me one – as he dove under the bed for his stash.
I must say besides him being well built he was also well endowed – 2x my size- and un-circumcised. You can imagine my frustration as he proceeded to relieve his sexual tension. I could do nothing but attempt to focus on my own magazine and tension. I was squirming in an uncomfortable manor I guess as he asked if I was OK. I said; “yes, but….. “. “But, what?” he said. I gathered up – whatever you want to call it – and said; “you are driving me crazy”. How? He retaliated. I just said; “your naked self and you are so much more and better looking than I am”. He laughed. Not a picking on my laugh but a flattered laugh. He then mentions; “I know you are either Gay or whatever you call it- I have a lot of these magazines and I may be a dumbass in school but out here I know more than you do in the real world.” I was dumbfounded, yet relieved. HE KNEW, had guessed.
Bert asked; “what would you like to do?” Blow me?’ I just nodded, he replied; “OK, get over here; I would never turn down a blowjob.” To which I did, and stroked myself. We then slept the pot off, I assume both content. I was. So, Now I was in heaven mom and my best friend. A bisexual teenager’s dream come true. Plus, just like our class work, I had to mentor Bert in the how to’s. As my cousin had taught me.
Continuing 1971…
Mom and I became closer as Christmas approached. We would both have the same winter break to play, but so would my siblings. I took off work from the gas station the two days before Christmas Eve and the 2 days after Christmas. Mom concocted a plan for free time. She convinced my grandmother to take the 5 kids for three days under the guise of she and I needed to cook, finish the shopping and get the house ready for the family Christmas party. This gave us 3 nights and 2 full days, plus they weren’t due back until late afternoon Christmas Eve.
The plan was flawless. Because what my grandmother didn’t know was Mom was pretty much done with the cook ahead stuff and the house was decorated and as clean as it was going to be. When I got home from work on my last day before the five days off my brothers and sister were gone, mom freshly showered, in her sexiest night and matching robe complete with makeup and hair done up like a Saturday evening on the town. I was in and out of the shower in no time. Popped out of the restroom in my jockey shorts to dinner for two, complete with wine. We laughed, took exaggerated deep breaths referring to the peace and quiet and the alone time.
Sorry, but another sidebar…
I forgot to mention mom was a babe. And at 36 six kids was still hot! My friends used to tell me so. Her photos of herself from 15 to wedding pictures were smoking. Equal to any Pin Up girl of the 50’s. She complained the we took her tits. The pregnancies shrunk them. Told me she went from a bra size of 34C to a 34AA after I was born. I knew they were smaller than the magazines girls but I loved them. The were little cones popped right on her chest. Pointed perfectly straight ahead. Puffy areoles and grape size large nipples were most of the entire breast. The nipples would double in size when aroused which was easy to do. Mom, had good genetics evidently. 6 kids and not the first stretch mark. 6 kids and as she said the same stomach she had before kids. Besides loosing her boobs to perky little ones she said her hip measurement was 4 inches larger than before us 6. Just for fun we took her measurements like they list in Playboy centerfold spreads. At 36, 6 children, she was 5’-7” – 135lbs. – 34AA,28,38 – blonde hair and Kelly Green eyes.
Along another note – I was informed that she had had her first orgasm with me over Thanksgiving weekend and given her first enjoyable blowjob as the old man was always so drunk he paid little attention to her needs. That and she also informed me that she had a sexual appetite that was surprising to her in that it was all she thought about most days. So, now you know why she had my grandmother take the little ones on a little white lie. She was horny. Being 14 and my first lover, I didn’t quite understand, from what we had done already I was assuming all women were like she was in their sex drive. Silly me, right?
Christmas (2 week Winter Break)
After moving out on my own…
Short of my having my own chores or overtime at work – I was at mom’s either Saturday or Sunday the next 20 years. Once the house was in good repair and up to date from the multiple Spring Break workweeks of me and my brother’s. With the house to herself, mom and I settled into a Sunday Coffee ritual -every Sunday morning before she had to get ready for church. I would let myself in between 6:30 and 7:00 (key in the crawfish bowl in the storage room. Slip into bed, we would have our hour or so, trade on the shower use, have coffee, I’d leave for home and she’d get ready for church. It was the perfect arrangement. Mom was alone and I was just as soon been.
On Thanksgiving week those Tuesday and/or Wednesday evenings I would go help mom cook or prepare dishes for Thursday. More than not I would spend the night as we would chop sauté, drink, and cook and eat until late into the night and I “couldn’t drive after drinking of course. On those nights we slept together all night, well not a lot of sleeping. We would repeat similar evenings for Christmas dinner on the 22nd and 23rd evenings. The only times these holiday evenings were interrupted was when one of my siblings came in early from out of town. While I still spent the night – I got the sofa. – No way would we try to sneak about with a houseful of adults.
In 1995 when I took a job in 3 hours away and there was a great sadness about, but she and I knew it was a good career move and mom was always about Career first and everything else would fall into place. As I have stated, we never discussed Our Times.
So, my moving as to how it would affect her and mine encounters was never brought up. It didn’t have to be – the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. We had one last hurrah if you will. I had two weeks between leaving the current job and moving. Mom took the same two weeks of vacation. I was supposed to use that time to ready the house to sell. Which I did, but before I started my day on the To-Do list, I went to Mom’s for “coffee”.
Mom retired in 1997, and at her retirement party I “roasted her” thanking her for everything possible – except. There wasn’t a dry eye in the banquet room. In 1999 she was diagnosed with cancer and passed away in 2003.
I will never forget her and all of those intimate times we shared.
