"Mom, it's OK; I'll take care of it later in the afternoon."
She knew I was in class but couldn't resist calling me when she noticed the column of ants in the kitchen.
"In the meantime, the ants can penetrate the kitchen cabinets and reach our food!"
"They may be there already. I promise to work on it once I am done here."
I chuckled to myself - I loved Mom, but she could not think logically or solve simple problems. She relied on me for anything.
...
Mom married Dad 20 years ago. He was tall and handsome, and many girls went gaga over him. He chose Mom, one of the prettiest cheerleaders and extremely shy. It took him longer than expected to conquer her heart, but they were destined to be together for life.
In the first five years, everything seemed made in heaven - I was born a year after the wedding, and Dad found work as a mechanic in a well-paying company. Within two years, he became the manager of the service department. One day, an employee who worked under a car pulled the wrong lever, and the car crushed his legs. Dad took it very hard, and his social drinking turned into a habit to distract him from his sorrow. Unfortunately, about a year ago, after a long day's work, he drank too much and caused a fatal accident. He died immediately.
The car insurance covered most of our expenses. I checked my father's drawers and discovered he had one million life insurance. At least we had enough money to start over...
Mom was devastated. I knew the reason. All her life, she relied on others to make decisions for her. When she grew up, it was her parents, and later it was Dad. She was a typical old-fashioned homemaker. She cooked, did the laundry, cleaned the house, and helped Dad and me around the house. However, the hierarchy was well established - Dad ran everything. Every decision was his, from what movie we watched to what college I attended. Mom was happy this way, not needing to overthink or be responsible for making wrong choices.
I recall talking to Dad when I was in high school about the unique relationship he had with Mom. He smiled and told me he had to become the dominant figure because Mom was too submissive and needed constant guidance. Everything worked well until Dad began drinking too much alcohol, but they managed somehow. It all crushed like a house of cards when he died on the street.
I was a senior in high school and just turned 18 - Too young to be responsible for everything. I was never involved in the house affairs and had no clue about our financial situation (Mortgage, paying bills, other commitments) and had to learn everything from scratch. During the week we mourned my father, I skipped school, ran through Dad's drawers, and was able to grasp most of the urgent family needs.
Mom's life turned much tougher after Dad's untimely death. The person she had leaned on for decades was gone, and she was left alone with a growing son. She was clueless about what to do and how to move forward. I took over decision-making and paying the bills.
Initially, Mom cried a lot. I was unsure what to do and decided to leave her alone, assuming she'd eventually overcome her grief and find another suitable man to share her life with. After three months, her daily cries diminished, but several nights, when I went to the bathroom to pee, I heard her crying into her pillow.
I tried to convince her to subscribe to match.com. She refused, telling me she could not distinguish good from bad candidates. I offered to use her name and pictures to make an initial selection, but she was adamant she wouldn't go out with a stranger.
"But Mom, you are young and beautiful. You have many decades to live. Don't you want to share it with another person?"
"Honey, I have you. I do not need anybody else."
"And what will you do when I get married or move to another state because of job requirements?"
"I'll move with you..."
I knew I had to push harder but was unsure how to do it.
...
One early afternoon class was dismissed early. A teacher became sick or something of that sort. I arrived home unexpectedly at 12:30 instead of 3:30 pm. I didn't see Mom and watched TV in the living room. A short time later, the bathroom door opened, and Mom, naked, strolled to her bedroom. She didn't see me and didn't bother covering herself.
It was the first time I'd seen Mother naked. She was gorgeous! Her medium-sized tits pointed forward, and her large pink-brownish nipples protruded attractively. Her flat tummy displayed a feminine navel concavity, and her bush hair was trimmed nicely. I ogled her stroll until she disappeared inside her bedroom. To say I was surprised was a significant understatement. This was the pivotal sight that changed my life forever.
Until that day, my sex life consisted of watching porn online and masturbating several times a week. The subjects of my wet dreams and erotic fantasies were actresses (Most of the time Charlize Theron or Angelina Jolie), my voluptuous math teacher, and the pretty bitch who was the official girlfriend of a famous footballer. Previously, I dated two girls. We kissed and touched but never had a sexual act.
Starting that day, Mom's perfect body became my fantasies' new and only subject. I became obsessed with the idea of having her. If I only knew how...
...
I arrived home in the afternoon, and Mom hugged me, "Arti, I've never seen so many ants in our house before. I don't understand why they are here. Please take a look."
Five minutes later, I found the reason. A rotten, partly eaten peach was under the fridge, attracting the tiny, uninvited guests. I suspected it fell from the garbage can when Mom emptied it into a larger bag. I cleaned the area with Lysol and followed the convoy of ants backward to the point of entrance. I sprayed the whole area with Raid, and the 'huge disaster' was solved successfully. My reward - Mom kissed my cheek.
On Saturday, Mom reminded me that winter was coming and I better check the house was ready. I inspected the outer walls, doors, and windows - Everything was in top shape. I went on the roof and replaced two shingles.
Next, I climbed the ladder to the attic and checked every nook and cranny. I didn't see holes or signs of defects that would cause damage during snow storms. However, I found a small box I never saw before. It was covered with spider webs and likely was there for years.
I brought it down, entered my room, and opened the cover. There were a few postcards, a sealed envelope, and a videotape. I opened the envelope and saw pictures of Mom when she was younger. Most of her pictures showed her posing in bikini-type swimsuits, but the last three showed her in the nude. The first one she posed by the door, smiling and bending slightly with her fantastic breasts proudly extending toward the camera. The second photo displayed her lying in bed, facing the camera and massaging an ample tit. In the third photo, Mom was sitting on a chair with a lusty smile and her legs spread. Her exposed cunt looked delicious. My prick stiffened in no time!
I had to see the content of the tape. I remembered Dad had a video recorder we used to connect to our TV while renting movies from Blockbuster. We never got rid of it. After a short search, I found it in one of the boxes in the garage. Except for minimal dust, it looked in good shape. I brought it to my room and waited for the first opportunity to check it out.
The next afternoon, Mom went to her hairstylist. She smiled, "Arti, it will take an hour, but I hope to return prettier."
"Mom, you are plenty pretty now. I do not understand why you waste time and money when you are perfect the way you are."
She grinned, "Honey, you are so sweet... and handsome. I wish I were 20 years younger..."
