Runway

"Alison, have you seen my light blue shirt? You know, the silky one that I wear for more formal occasions..?"

My mum barely dragged her eyes away from the news on the TV.

"I ironed it yesterday. It's hanging in the wardrobe next to your best suit."

"And my dark-blue tie..?"

"Where you hung it yourself after you wore it last time, inside the wardrobe door..."

Apparently the subject of Value Added Tax was far more compelling to Mum than any of Dad's clothing dilemmas.

"I want to set them out for tomorrow... "

"OK."

Mum flicked the channel, but with the sound down to a minimum. She was even engrossed in the commercials.

I was sitting across the lounge, watching the familiar routine of my parents play itself out. Next, my father would ask a variation of

"So we eating anything good tonight?"

He did.

At this point, though, the routine seemed to veer off course slightly.

Mum stood up quietly, left the lounge, walked through the kitchen and out the back door into the garden where she stood with her arms folded. I could see this through the window from my position at the dining table, but dad couldn't.

I put down the book I was reading and followed Mum outside.

I put my arm around her.

We didn't say anything. We just stood there.

"It's so... grrr... I wish..." Mum's hands were held out like claws.

"Sometimes, just sometimes I want to..." She mimed throttling someone.

"Can I help?"

Mum was about six inches shorter than me, She turned and looked up at me and patted my chest.

"Nick, you're not Superman. You can't solve everything."

I'm in Clark Kent mode - just without the specs..."

A smile.

"It's my problem and I've got to solve it. You don't need to worry your head about it."

"Is it money? I thought we were fairly well off, Dad being a lecturer and all, but if you want me to get a job to help out between term times I can do that..."

"No. You know we don't need the money. I mean, you know we let you use the money from your last job to buy that, um, classic car.."

"You mean piece of junk.."

"... piece of junk out on the front drive." She actually laughed.

"You don't know what classic is. Look at your car, you've got that mass-produced, shiny status symbol.."

"... which never breaks down..."

"which never breaks down. BUT which takes you half an hour to find in the parking lot... "

"True..." She rested her head on my shoulder.

She sighed. "Do you know what I wanted to do after college?"

"If you're like me you probably wanted to take a gap year and hike around some mountain ranges.."

"That's what you want to do?"

"Sure. Haven't you seen all those National Geographics in my cupboard?"

"I thought that was because you liked looking at a native lady's breasts..."

"Well yeah, that too, but in the mountains you can see them up real close..."

Mum punched me gently.

"Me, I wanted to go round all the museums and art galleries of Europe and sit and waste hours in front of the masterpieces."

I turned and stared at her, the surprise evident in my face.

"You didn't know I was into art?"

"No. But now I do know, I think you'd be better on the other side of the canvas."

"How do you mean?"

"As the model of course - 'The Rokeby Venus', modern-style. 'Modigliani's Mistress'...

"I'd need a longer neck.."

"Mum. I know I shouldn't say this, 'cause you're my mum, but when you walk down the street, men walk into lampposts - I've seen it with my own eyes..."

She laughed and rested her head into my arm.

"No, Nick, that's long gone. But I don't know, I get myself into this rut sometimes and I don't seem to be able to get myself out...I really think I need to be shocked out of it. Any ideas?"

"Maybe every time I see you moping around I should bring out the taser...?"

"No, silly." A weak smile. "I just mean that...oh, I dunno, never mind."

We went back inside.

Mum stayed in the kitchen, the sounds of cupboard doors banging and various objects being slammed onto the table with greater force than usual.

I went through into the lounge where dad had apparently sorted out his wardrobe problems and was now ensconced in his armchair.

I glanced over at him. He suddenly seemed a lot older than usual - not just that he was so set in his ways, sitting now in his favourite armchair, his favourite classical music playing in the background, deep in a book by his favourite author, wearing his favourite slippers, but he looked old - balding, jowly, a paunch. It suddenly dawned on me that at nineteen, I was closer in age to my mum than my dad was. Was that the problem? That while I was now looking forward to life's challenges, at the same age Mum had been knocked up by her charismatic married college teacher and had the weight of me slung round her neck for the rest of her beautiful life?

I suddenly felt so guilty - in a way I felt that I was the one responsible for my mum being so down.

Oh, this was heavy.

I had to think about this. I paced. I crept into my little nook of memories, of things we'd done together. I remembered though that she'd always had a bright smile when I was around. The anger had seemed to manifest itself afterwards, behind the parental bedroom door, with things occasionally boiling over so that Mum would later come into my bedroom softly and on tiptoe to check that I hadn't woken up. She would sit on the side of the bed and I would sense she was watching me. After a while she would bend over and kiss me and I would inhale her beautiful scent and feel the drop of a tear as it spilled onto my cheek. At that moment I would feign waking up and Mum would hug me while surreptitiously wiping the tear away.

"Mum?"

"Shush. You were dreaming and called out. You must have had a bad dream. Go back to sleep now."

With that, she had hugged me and her soft body pressed up against me before she laid me back into the bed and made sure I was tucked in tight. Another scented kiss and she was gone.

Alright then.

I found my backpack and went around throwing a few things into it before picking up my car keys and breezing jauntily into the kitchen.

" Stop what you're doing, take off your apron, put whatever it is you're cooking to the side, put down that knife - especially put down that knife - and come with me. No ifs, no buts. You said you want to be jolted out of your, what was it?"

"Misery?"

"Misery. Misery? That bad huh?"

"Well, not just at the moment..."

"Anyway I think I've got a solution"

"But..."

"Now what did I just tell you about those 'buts'?"

I took her gently by the forearm and led her out and past dad.

"Dad, we're just off out for a bit. I need Mum to help me choose some things for my digs at Uni to impress the girls, and she's a girl, she'll know what makes 'em swoon."

We didn't wait for dad's mumbled response as I guided Mum out the front door to my car standing in the drive. As I released her arm she turned to look at me quizzically with the hint of a smile at the corners of her lips.

"If you're kidnapping me you could have at least let me get changed first..."

I stood back and looked her up and down, one hand on my chin.

"Umm. No. I wouldn't change a thing. You're beautiful."

She was. She stood with her hair slightly awry, in a loose fitting blouse, pleated skirt which swayed teasingly as she walked, pantyhose (I guessed) and two inch heels. Not exactly set up for a night on the town, but, then, we weren't going for a night on the town...

"Wherever it is, why don't we take our car?"

"Nope. You are about to enter another world, and for that you have to have the right equipment - and Molly, God bless her," I fondly patted my ancient, two litre, leather bench-seated Vanguard. "is just the girl to see us through."

We climbed in and Mum let out a sigh as she sank back into the leather upholstery of the front seat, caressing it.

"Wow, this is sooo comfortable...! I could lose myself in this! If I'd known your car was this comfy I'd have let you take me everywhere in it.."

"Well you'd have had to share the petrol costs then. She guzzles fuel like there's no tomorrow."

I slipped a disc into the player and soft music wafted out.

"Mmmm, you're not one for the Heavy Metal then?"

"I felt the occasion requires something more laid back, more romantic..."

"Smooth. You're a charmer. A smoothie."

She was sitting half-turned to me, looking at my profile as I slipped Molly into gear and we set off down the road.

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I said you're a charmer but looking at you now in profile, well...you are, you really are... " She reached across with her arm and brushed my cheek. " You're handsome and you're bright...some girl's going to be so lucky..."

"Stop it!" I laughed. "You're gonna make my ego burst and then I'll die and you'll be left to wipe it all up off the seats..."

I turned and looked across at her.

"If I'm all those things then it's down to you. I'm a reflection of you."

"Without the tits."

My mouth burst wide open with a mixture of shock and hilarity. Had my mum just said 'tits'..?

She was now sitting facing me, observing me, resting her head into the one hand with the top of her arm stretched across the back of the seat and one knee brought up onto it.

I looked again and then back at the road.

"Will you stop doing that?"

"What?"

"Watching me. I can't concentrate on the road. You're unnerving me."

"Oh, so I can still have that effect on men then?"

"You know you could have any man you want, including me.."

Umm. I thought that one over momentarily and hoped Mum hadn't picked up on it.

She scooted over to my side and put an arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder, the scent of her hair making deep inroads into my concentration.

"OK, now you can't see me. Keep your eyes on the road. Where are we going, anyway?"

"I can't tell you that. I might have to blindfold you. In fact... I think I will."

"What?!?"

I pulled the car over to the side of the road and reached over the seat to take out my backpack.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you trust me? I mean, really, really trust me?"

"You're taking me to a drug den where I'll overdose and be gangbanged?"

"No."

What were these things my mum was coming out with?

"You're going to pimp me out on a street corner?"

"Mum, No..!!"

"Good, 'cause I don't think I'm really dressed for it..."

"Look, Mum, it's not too far but I want it to be a surprise."

"Then I trust you."

"Fine. I'm going to blindfold you with this."

I'd taken out a scented red silk scarf.

"That's my scarf."

"So you won't object to wearing it then, will you? Just not in the way you usually do." I added with a smile.

Mum gave a pseudo resigned puff of her cheeks and leant in towards me, closing her eyes. It was a strange moment. She was so close and I could admire her without her seeing. Her auburn hair falling over one eye, eyes with gorgeously long lashes, while at the other side her hair was pulled back behind her ear, a small encrusted ring dangling from the lobe. Her long and oh-so-smooth neck stretched down towards her chest which was now thrusting forward as she leaned over, the opening of her blouse exposing the creamy tops of her bosom and the frilly edge of her white bra.

I was sitting there, hypnotized by this view, when Mum said gently,

"I thought you were going to blindfold me?"

I glanced up and she had opened her eyes and was smiling.

"If you're going to do it, do it...", and she closed her eyes again, leant further forward and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back and then pulled away.

"Here we go. This time then... " I folded the scarf over a few times and brought it round her eyes to the back of her head and made it secure.

"Mmm, I can't see a thing. You still there?"

She lifted her arms with fingers outstretched, like a blind person, feeling her way. She felt around my face.

"Aha..."

One hand traced patterns around my eyes, down my nose, around my mouth, between my lips. I sucked on her fingers.

The other hand had inserted itself beneath my T-shirt and its fingers were toying with the hairs on my chest before the nails smoothly stroked across my nipples.

"Well there's some hulk in front of me. Tasty..."

She pulled her hands away and held her wrists together.

"You want to tie me up as well?", smiling.

At that point I do believe I would have loved that more than anything, to have her completely in my power and be able to explore...

"If you get really stroppy I'll think about it but, no, I don't want you hogtied. We might have to move quickly when we get to where we're going..."

"Now I'm really intrigued...you mean I'll have to dive out of the sinking ship and swim to shore..?"

"Not quite. Oh, but one other thing. We can't have you sitting upright and blindfolded like that while I'm driving down the road. They'll take me, lock me in a cell and throw away the key..."

"If they do, I promise I'll come and visit. I'll even bring the hacksaw."

"You'd do that for me?"

"You kidding? I'd hide it in a sheath down my inside leg inside my stocking. They wouldn't dare look there. Then I'd persuade the guard to let me in for a visit."

"How would you do that?

"We women have our ways," she winked, "... then we'd escape together and go on the lam..."

"Wouldn't a horse be quicker?"

"What? Oh... haha, good one... So, you want me to duck down?"

"Yeah, that'd be.."

But she'd already turned her body away from the dashboard, ducking her head under my arms into my lap and lifting her legs so she was stretching the length of the seat. This action pressed her nose and mouth into my crotch area, while her skirt had fallen away from her thighs as she now drew up her legs towards her stomach. She was wearing white panties, tight white panties which stretched over the crease of her bum. Her finger prodded my belly.

"I'm ready.."

I was confused for a moment as to what she meant by that because my thoughts were probably on a different set of lines - hell, they'd jumped the rails and were off in all directions...

"So am I..."

We set off again. Mum couldn't wear a seat belt of course, and so with one arm I held her in to me so she wouldn't roll off the seat. I didn't really have to hold her by the bum, but it seemed, well, the safest thing to do...

The ride was cozy, and the music calming, but every little jolt of the suspension seemed to dig Mum's face deeper into my crotch - and my cock was beginning to enjoy this immensely.

We hadn't spoken for about five minutes, and I think that was mostly because we were both paying absolute attention to what was happening downstairs. By now my cock was totally rigid and there was no way Mum couldn't have known - in fact she even seemed to be using it as some kind of pillow to rest her head against... her free hand was in the gap between my shirt and my jeans belt, but when she lifted her head to ask whether we were almost there, she moved that hand onto my cock to push herself up. I pushed her head back down again but she left her hand in place.

And so we rode on, me occasionally adjusting myself slightly to get more comfortable (impossible..) and Mum's hand never leaving the swelling in my jeans.

Five more minutes and we turned off onto a dirt road with a bump.

"Ok. You can sit up now, but don't loosen the blindfold, we're off the main road."

Did she really need to lever herself up by my cock?

It was indeed bumpy because it was just a rutted dirt-road we were bouncing along. I really should have left Mum where she'd been lying... I wound down the window, scanning the horizon, and then spotted what I'd been searching for.

"I'm going to speed up a bit so it might get a bit bumpier, but here's what we're going to do. You won't look?"

"I won't look, promise."

"Alright then, I'll be stopping the car soon and I'm going to jump out to arrange something and then I'll come back and guide you, OK?"

"Stop - Jump - Arrange - Back...OK"

"Right then, here goes..."

I swung hard on the steering wheel and a protesting Molly scrunched to a halt. Grabbing the backpack, I jumped out of the car, hauling a blanket out of the pack as I went and spreading it out on the bonnet. I looked round. Yes, there was just time...

Running back round to Mum's side, I threw open the door, pulled her out and told her to climb up quickly onto the bonnet of the car with her head resting back against the windscreen.

In between all the "But...", "But.."s, I heaved her up onto the bonnet and arranged her flat on her back with her head supported by the glass, then jumped up beside her.

Then I whipped off the blindfold.

"Now what's all the...Nick!! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...!!"

She went to put her hands up over her face but I pulled them away.

In front of us, low in the sky, were three headlights, and those headlights were coming down and towards us, getting rapidly larger and lower. They were accompanied by a low growl, the intensity of which started to rattle through our bodies, and still the thing approached us until the noise and sight were all-encompassing and completely blotted out the sky and what had been a low growl had now opened out into an ear-piercing screech. Then only a matter of feet above us it roared over our heads and we could see a distorted reflection of ourselves in the underbelly of the beast. Then it was gone, the screech returning to its low growl, leaving behind just the unmistakable whiff of aviation fuel. A few seconds later there was a roar, as the jetliner landed and the pilot or the stewardess put its engines into reverse thrust.

I didn't watch this though. I'd experienced it so often. I watched Mum.

I observed her face with its mouth and eyes open so wide as it tried to make sense of what was happening to her. There was a mixture of fear, disbelief and incredulity all scrambling to be the prevailing emotion.

And when it was past she just lay there, breathing rapidly, her eyes still wide. Then,

"Just what the fuck was that...??"

"That? Oh, that was the eighteen-thirty British Airways flight from Kennedy. Dead on time for a change."

She turned to me then and started to beat the living shit out of me, pummeling my chest with her fists, tears flooding her eyes.

"You, you..! You could have had us both killed! What the fuck do you mean by putting me through that..?!? Why did you do that? I trusted you... you made me trust you...!!", sobbing.

"Mum, Mum...it's all alright, it's alright." I grabbed hold of her wrists and held her in close.

"Mum, look around you...it's alright, look."

Still trying feebly to beat my chest, she did so.

Cars were dotted haphazardly around the field of allotments, people lounging on the bonnets or the roofs of their cars, biting into sandwiches, opening flasks of coffee. There were also youngsters who'd arrived on their bikes and who were now comparing notes - plane-spotters. A couple of them were grinning towards us and making jokes. I gave them a short wave of acknowledgement.

Mum looked right and left, then back at me.

"You're still a bastard.."

"Well it's you who had me out of wedlock..."

"Touche... so what did you want to get out of frightening the bejaysus out of me?"

I wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

"You said you were miserable, depressed, fed up...this is the place to let it all out."

"How do you mean?"

"I'll show you in" I glanced at my watch, "approximately four and a half minutes we'll have the flight arriving from Tokyo. You don't believe me? Ask the laddies over there."

The 'laddies' were eagerly comparing their logbooks in anticipation.

"Look, there it is, you see those lights in the distance coming over from the right?"

"Uhuh ..."

"Well just wait. And don't move. It really is alright..."