We had just had a fairly frank discussion about ourselves and all we really did was open more doors than we closed. We were both in robes in the kitchen, sitting and sipping coffee. Both thinking and as my wheels turned in my head I simply had too many questions to just sit quietly.
"Mom, you have a submissive streak and also a dominant streak. Are they interchangeable?"
She just looked at me like I was from outer space.
"You like it when I sometimes take control and instead of me asking you to do something I order you to do it. It makes your pussy very wet at those times. But I also noticed you flared back at me when I kind of got into it and took the dominant role."
"How do you mean Son? I'm not sure I'm following you."
"Well when I first took you out riding the bike. I took charge and you fell right into the routine. I told you what I wanted you to do and you did it, even though you didn't really want to, you did it and it clearly turned you on."
"Yes, I came when you made me strip out there on that overpass. I have always wanted to be made to do things like that, expose myself and things like that but have never had the courage to do anything by myself. It was actually a relief when you were making me do it, because I wanted to but was always being held back by my inner fears. You released me that night."
"But when I got into the role of bad assed biker and said you were my bitch, you blanched, and almost went into dominating."
"No, Son, I didn't. What happened was that you caught me off guard, but you handled it well. I admit I can be a bitch at times, but never with you. It's not really a name I relish being called, even if it is just biker slang. I think if you want to call me your bitch when we are into the biker thing I could even like it, but the very first time anyone else does, watch out!"
I laughed because I knew where she was coming from. It's like the old bugaboo of relatives, I can smack him and we fight, no problem, you smack him and we all fight! I understood.
"Well that's not gonna be a problem any more Mom, cause I'm just going to call you what you actually are and that's going to be that!"
She gave me the eye and with a raised eyebrow asked,"Oh yeah, well let's just hear you call me your new name for me and we'll see if I like it or not!"
There she went, daring me, I could sense the subtle change as she slipped toward that dominant role. I was a little taken aback as she did it because I didn't think even she realized that she had made the transition until I looked at her.
Her face got a little pink and she just said,"Oops, I guess that was a good example of what you were saying earlier?" She had said it as a question and I got it, she simply was just now recognizing what she was doing.
"Yes, Mother, that was exactly what I was referring to earlier!"
"Okay, so I can flip-flop back and forth, I don't mean too really, it's just that I've had to assume so many roles raising you and working that I guess I kinda get confused sometimes!"
She chuckled and shook her head.
"I want to call you a name, Mother, because I cannot call you Mother when we are out and about, not even among other bikers that are pretty loose bunch on a whole."
"Oh."
"We are going to need to come up with acceptable alternatives for when we are out and around others and we need to practice so that there are no slip ups."
She just looked at me in a more serious way.
"I love you." I said it out loud to her as I had before.
"I love you too... Son."
"See, that's exactly what I mean, you can't do that when we are out with other people!" I was trying to make an example here.
"I know, but I do love you, and it'll be hard not to just say it no matter where we are or who we're around!"
"Don't you think I know that?" I stated flatly.
Her robe had opened slightly and those breasts were plainly visible. Mother had some good cleavage and I got ogling it! She giggled.
"Damn Son, if you want to see my tits, all you have to do is ask and I'll drop the robe!"
"Okay Mom, I'm asking." I waggled my eyebrows at her as usual.
She just pulled the sash to release the slip knot and shrugged her shoulders a little allowing the robe to drop off her and slide down her back to the seat. She was bare-chested now and I was looking directly at her tits.
"I'd of thought that you'd seen them often enough that you wouldn't want to look at them as much. Mine aren't that big and have started the inevitable journey south so I just don't see why you are so fascinated."
"Mother, you are my Mother, and that one little fact alone makes the sight desirable for me, but you also underestimate your appeal as a woman. You have wonderful full breasts that are still perky and have two of the most attractive nipples I've ever seen on any woman and I'm including all of the Playboy bunnies in that statement."
She perked up a bit and slowly drew her shoulders back thrusting her breasts out at me a little more. I loved seeing my Mother naked and I had just told her why.
"You're prejudiced, but I like it!" was her retort.
"So the name I picked is well used and by lot's of people for lot's of reasons, most of which are affection and not as a derogatory term."
"Okay, so what is it?"
"First I have to explain that for me it certainly doesn't mean what it implies and I need to tell you that and try to make you understand that the very first time I started to use this term I couldn't. I substituted bitch instead."
"Wow, this one must be bad if you'd rather refer to me as a bitch than say it!"
She was really wanting to hear it now.
"No, no, Mother it isn't that bad a word or a name, but it might be taken by you to mean something other than what I am going to use it for."
"What?"
She was ready or so she thought.
"Okay, but remember it's a word describing a relationship and not an attack or derogatory term."
"Will you just spit it out for God's sake!"
"I want to call you my wife... my Mother... but I can't so I am forced to use a substitute word... and I chose... Oldlady."
Mom just stared at me for a few seconds.
"You're my old lady."
She smiled and I knew it would be alright for me to call her that. I had really worried that she would take it wrong and think I was saying she was old. I didn't even want that thought to ever cross her mind.
