As I am writing this, I still can't believe this happened to me. It seems like a story I want to tell about someone else. I mean, I'm the typical conservative-looking soccer mom type, who would never be suspected of going through with anything mischievous, much less scandalous.
At 5'8", and about 130 pounds, I have short blond hair and blue eyes, with what I've been told is a "cute" look similar to a Meg Ryan type. All I know is that I try to take care of myself and work-out regularly to take away the stress of being a single parent.
My ex left not too long ago when we just could not stop arguing. It got to the point where my 21 year old son even knew my ex-husband was harrassing me too much and talked him into moving out. Before long, an amicable divorce happened. Then, my daughter left for college and my son, Bobby, stayed to attend a local college for a while like his older sister had before she left.
My son and I went in our separate directions for the most part, but now with him older, it seems we relate to each other more easily, and we try to do something together at least once a week to keep up with each other.
It was with this routine that he agreed to go to my office holiday party with me. I was complaining about having to go all alone, and he tried to lift my spirits by saying that I didn't have to go alone, that he'd go if I wanted. I thanked him and said yes, that I preferred that.
The party itself was okay. I work for a large corporation, and an entire ballroom was used to have it. There was dancing, food and plenty of drinks, which I readily had my part of.
So did Bobby. One of my friends was seeming to want to monopolize Bobby, but who could blame her. At 6'1" and a lean 195 pounds, Bobby is attractive, fit and ---well---only 21. My friend called him a stud to his face, and he only blushed turning to face me and shake his head.
He did manage to save a couple of dances for me, and really surprised me when he saved the last one for his certainly buzzed mom.
"Thanks dear," I was sure to tell him, "you are such a sweetheart."
"Mom, you make it easy to be," he charmed.
" Well, I'm afraid I've had too much good cheer," I confessed.
"Yeah, me too," he responded.
After some thought, we decided the best idea was to stay the night at the hotel. We got a room with a couple of beds and headed upstairs.
At this point, it did seem a little strange. He was older. An adult now. We'd danced together. My friend had talked about him in an adult way that had given me pause. But, he was my son ,and I thought nothing of us staying overnight rather than taking the risks of drinking and driving.
It was quiet in the room as we both got ready for bed. Ever the gentleman, he insisted I use the bathroom first. And when he went in, I was struck about what I'd sleep in. I quickly shed my clothes and crawled under the covers of my bed, feeling warm and cozy and content to sleep the same way I do at home.
He came out of the bathroom and he was at first perplexed, too. But after a short pause, he took off his watch and just casually pulled his shirt over his head. My gaze went to his chest and the light covering of hair that matted on his chest. Without thinking, my look drifted to where his tight abdomen met his trousers and the trail of hair that disappeared into his pants.
It was then that I noticed he was standing still. Facing me, I saw that he had a grin on his face as he looked back at me. I thought I would die. I realized that he'd caught me staring at him and I realized I'd taken my time with surveying his chest and stomach. I immediately looked away, embarrassed.
I sensed him moving and looked back at him. He was undoing his belt and taking down his trousers right in front of me. I absolutely could not help myself, and I watched him. He knew I was watching and seemed to take his time. He pulled on his trousers and had them slide over his hips and then let them fall on down to the floor.
As he looked down to step out of them, my jaw dropped as I looked at the sight of him in white boxer-briefs that now was the only thing covering him.
The underwear did little to really hide the bulge that protruded out and down the left side of the leg of the shorts. It looked as though he was confined there and that he would be exposed with much more movement.
I looked to his face and he looked back at me. We said nothing. All I could think of was how I had openly stared. And how he was no longer just my son but certainly a man.
"Look, we should get to bed," I finally said.
"Yeah, you're right," he agreed and went to the light switch, turning it off.
I laid there and listened as he got in his bed.
"Thank you, Bobby. You were so swweet to go tonight." I said to him in the darkness.
