Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.
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I finished my walk around the supermarket, and made sure that I had enough food for mum to eat over the next week. I was a bit concerned that she still wasn't going out. She basically had become a recluse since dad died during lockdown. They said he died of covid, and that is what it said on the death certificate, but mum and I knew that he had no symptoms, he simply died. It was nearly two days before an ambulance came and took him away.
I had gone to mum in defiance of lockdown rules when she phoned me and said dad had gone. I sat with her as we waited for the ambulance, her just quiet, unspeaking. Dad laying on the bed not moving, dead. Perhaps mum should have said that dad wasn't moving when she dialled 999, but no, she said he was dead, so I guess they gave him no urgency. I accepted that mum knew a dead body when she saw one, she had been a nurse in her youth and had only stopped when she had me, and then my sister.
Time had flowed, mum stayed in, the world returned to a strange semblance of normal; people mostly went back to work, some clung to working from home, some companies closed down, largely in the hospitality area, so long without paying customers was just too much for their loans to bear and they closed. There were casualties too in the construction industry, plant does not like to lay idle, bearing seized, equipment failed, costs went up, companies closed.
Mum now hardly went out, I could not encourage her to, I tried, Bethany my sister tried, but no, she was having none of it. I had tried to get her to try home delivery shopping, but that was computers, and dad used to do that, and now he wasn't here, she had no idea and didn't want to learn. Bethany and I took it in turns to do her a weekly shop. I had suggested that perhaps I could arrange her weekly shop online and have it delivered, but she said no, that would mean her having to open the door to strangers, no, she was not having that.
And so, here I was coming to the end of a supermarket sweep, bread, milk, butter, eggs, cereal, chops, mince, potatoes and so on, all the standard stuff that normal people buy and consume, except mum, she did the consume, not the buy. She was quite happy cooking and preparing meals, she just was not doing the buying. Bethany had suggested picking mum up and taking her to the supermarket, but mum was having none of it.
"No Bethany, there are people there with diseases, diseases that killed Gerald, I am not going near them." She had stated quite firmly. Gerald was, of course, our dad.
As the girl at the checkout scanned the items, I packed them in my little collection of bags and put them in the trolley. After paying it was simply a case of wheeling out to the car park and loading the shopping into the boot, returning the trolley and retrieving my pound coin deposit, and then off to mum's.
Dad had life insurance and after all was eventually sorted, probate taking nearly a year, everything was paid off and mum had a few thousand left in the bank for emergencies. We sold dad's car, mum would never drive, so it was just depreciating on the drive, and mum had a widow's pension form the insurance company where dad had worked until he died. She was comfortably off, thank goodness, that was just something Beth and I didn't have to worry about.
Samantha, my wife, had suggested that perhaps mum could come and live with us or Beth, but mum refused. "You will make me leave the house. No. I am staying here," she had said when we suggested it.
I reversed my car onto mum's drive and opened the boot. Using my key I opened mum's front door and called to her.
"Only me mum, I am here with your shopping."
I returned to the car and started carrying the bags into her kitchen, knowing mum would not appear until the front door was closed again. She wasn't agoraphobic, she would happily sit in the back garden and tend to the flowers and shrubs, she just wouldn't go out of the front door. Once all the shopping was in, I closed the boot, locked my car and went into the house, shutting the front door behind me.
In the kitchen I started emptying the bags and mum came up behind me, she had appeared once the door was shut as I knew she would. I turned, she had probably been in the shower when I arrived, she was wearing a robe and her hair was wet. She walked up and hugged me, pressing herself to me, her thin robe barely managing to keep her decent.
"Leave the shopping Michael," she said, "brush my hair for me."
I followed her into the back room, and she sat on the stool in front of the sofa. I took the brush from her and sat behind her on the sofa, my legs apart, resting either side of the stool. Mum leant back and I started brushing her hair. Mum's hair is just over shoulder length and is blonde in colour and a lustrous texture, lovely condition and glided easily through the bristles of the brush.
As I brushed mum almost purred, "I love you doing that", she said, "you do it like Gerald did, I could close my eyes and forget he is gone."
As I brushed I looked over her head and could not help but see, her robe was gaping and her breasts were exposed, my dick responded and I was grateful that mum would not see how inappropriate my behaviour was. It made me uncomfortable, my dick, flaccid, had nestled in the pool of my underpants, but once aroused it had become trapped in the folds of cotton and was now painful. I really needed to stand up and adjust myself, but how could I do that?
I kept brushing, mum's robe moving as I worked, fluttering against her nipples, hard and proud they stood from the beauty of her breasts, my dick getting harder. I tried to adjust myself with my other hand, but I was jammed in there, it would need a trip to the bathroom to resolve.
"Mum," I said, "just going to the loo, give me a minute."
I got up and nipped to her downstairs loo, undid my trousers and sorted my dick out, much more comfortable. Back in the sitting room I sat down behind mum again and resumed brushing.
"You are silly you know," mum said, "just like Gerald. You could have done that here, I wouldn't have minded."
Did she know? God how embarrassing, I just kept brushing, mum's robe seemingly more apart than before, I tried so hard not to look, grateful that the lower part of her robe was still together and her fanny wasn't exposed to my gaze. Mum leant back even more, her head now resting on my groin, her chest even more exposed, this was getting somewhat difficult. I kept brushing, staring ahead as much as I could so as not to see my mother's breasts.
Eventually I could cope no longer. I leant back and said.
"I think that is done now mum, any more risks splitting your ends."
Mum sat up and pulled her robe tightly around herself.
"Thank you darling, you have no idea how much that meant to me, it really did make me feel special again." Mum got up and headed upstairs to get dressed. I wasn't sure how much she knew, if she really realised how much I had been aroused, and would she have been embarrassed or simply cross with me, if she had known.
I went into the kitchen and finished emptying the bags and then folding the bags all into one bag ready to go back into my boot for next time. As I started to put the shopping away I flicked the kettle on ready to make us both a cup of tea when mum was dressed. It didn't take long and soon everything was away and tidy just as it should be.
I could hear a shaver going upstairs, and that surprised me, mum doesn't have a beard, and then I chided myself, silly me. Samantha shaves her fanny almost daily, she hates hair down there, says it rubs, is unsightly, and generally just a poor design. I guess mum was just having a tidy up.
"Michael," mum called, "can you come up, I need your help."
