Dad is a career military man and is away on some top secret government assignment way more often than he is at home. At least, he says he is. Consequently, Mom and I never lived on a military base after I started school. And we never got to accompany him on any of his assignments. She opted to move in with her parents out in Arkansas. The town was so small that it didn't even have a fucking Wal Mart. When I was ten, Mom moved the two of us to San Diego. I am now nineteen and am attending a nearby community college. I don't really have a major as of yet but, if anyone asked me, I would tell them I was leaning towards wanting to be a teacher.
Mom and I got along great with each other. We rarely disagreed about much of anything. She pretty well kept to herself, often telling me that she didn't need all that many friends because she had her handsome young son to take care of her. Then, the day after my twentieth birthday, the shit hit the fan.
It was Friday. My last class of the day was over and I was anxious to get home. Friday's was always pizza night. When we were sufficiently stuffed we would retreat to her bedroom to watch a movie. Mom chose the bedroom over the living room because it was more comfortable for her to lay in bed instead of sitting on the sofa. Often times I would lay down behind her. When I did she would wiggle around until her backside was pressed into my groin and her back was against my chest. I always propped myself up on my elbow so I could see. More often than not, my free hand would be resting on her hip. She never said anything, so I guess it didn't bother her all that much. She never said anything about the boner I always seem to develop, either.
When the movie was over, we would kiss each other good night and I would rush off to my bedroom to beat off. I couldn't help it. Lying in such close proximity to each other always made me horny beyond belief. It was always a quick session with me cumming after only a few strokes, so I never really had time to fantasize about Mom all that much.
My cock was beginning to twitch in anticipation when I stepped on the porch but, it quickly lost its ambition the moment I opened the door.
"Damn the luck," I muttered to myself as I looked across the room. Dad was home!
He stood near the swinging batwing doors that separated the living room from the kitchen, his suitcase in hand.
"Leaving already?" I asked.
"'Fraid so, son, he said as Mom entered from the kitchen. "'Fraid so."
I could see that Mom had been crying. She looked a little angry, too. I was about to ask what was wrong when she spoke.
"Tell him why," she said, her voice full of bitterness.
Dad gulped as he silently looked first at Mom and then at me.
"Go ahead, you son-of-a-bitch," Mom demanded. "Tell him why."
Dad never said a word. He just turned and walked toward me. He stopped long enough to give me a hug and whisper in my ear, "Take care of your mother. She's gonna need you." And, just like that, he was out the door. Gone!
I shuffled the few steps over to Mom, put my arms around her and gave her a hug. "It's gonna be okay, Mom," I told her. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it. Just like we always do.
Mom sniffled and cleared her throat. "I don't know, Terry. I just don't know." She nestled her face into my shoulder and began to sob.
I never said a word. I just let her cry while I caressed the back of her head with one hand and rubbed her back and shoulders with the other.
Gradually, the sobbing subsided, slowly fading into an occasional sniffle. I heard her take a deep breath. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "He's found someone else."
What?" I queried. I could hardly believe what I had just heard. "Who? How? Why?"
"He just came in," Mom began. "Bastard didn't even sit down. He just waltzed on in and said he was leaving. He said he had met someone in the Philippines that he'd fallen in love with. He just came by long enough to get a few things."
"Probably some whore," I said matter-of-factly.
Mom pulled herself from my embrace and looked up at me, her face full of questions I didn't know if I could answer or not.
"I was faithful to him," she said. "I had several chances, but I was faithful. Dammit, I was faithful to that no good bastard!"
I pulled her back into my embrace and kissed her on the ear. I felt her shiver.
"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked. Mom shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "Why?"
"Dad's a fool," I told her. "Why, any man that got a good look at you would want you."
"Any man 'cept your father," Mom said.
"He's a fool," I repeated.
I held her at arms' length and gave her body the once over. "You're beautiful," I told her. "You've got a perfect body. And," I said, trying to make her smile, "you've got a rack that any sensible man would salivate over."
Mom looked me in the eye and blushed. "You shouldn't say things you don't mean, son."
"Honest, Mom, not one of my friends' mothers even come close to measuring up to you. If you weren't my mother, I'd be on you in a New York second."
Mom's face registered a bit of shock and I immediately began to apologize. Then, for the first time since I'd come home, I saw a faint smile on her face. "Thanks," she gushed, "but I still think you're trying to bullshit the public."
"Tell you what," I said. "Just to prove to you that I ain't lying, why don't you go upstairs and put on some fresh make up. I should be finished cleaning up by the time you get back down here. Then we'll go out to eat instead of eating in like we usually do on Friday's. What do you say?"
Though she protested, I could see in her eyes that Mom was warming up to the idea of spending a night out instead of being cooped up in this small two bedroom apartment that had shrunk considerably since Dad had so unceremoniously burst her bubble.
Mom brushed a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. "But, I must look a fright," she charged. "And I'm sure you really don't want to be seen out in public with a frumpy old housewife like me."
"Mom!" I sighed. "How many times and how many ways do I have to tell you that you're wrong? You're the most beautiful thirty eight year old woman I know. You've got another hundred years before you have to worry about being frumpy."
Mom's face took on an excited look. A look that I hadn't seen in quite some time. Then I delivered the piece de resistance. "Besides, we haven't celebrated my birthday yet."
She threw up her hands in surrender. "Okay," she said. "You win."
