Chapter 5

After Evan ate lots of things his mother wouldn’t make for dinner, he stood outside his parent’s door for a minute without knocking. Then, he raised his fist but still didn’t knock. If Candy was asleep, Evan wanted her to stay that way. If she was awake, Candy might pretend not to be, and he’d be in trouble for entering without knocking. Finally, Evan told himself you’re the man of the house and opened the door.

Candy was in bed on her back. He locked the door, walked over, and stood there, staring. Her left leg was straight, her foot uncovered, and the other leg was bent, forming a triangle under the sheet. It appeared she had been propped up on two pillows, but they were only under her left shoulder now, twisting Candy’s upper body to the right. It seemed uncomfortable. Maybe she’ll need a massage, Evan thought.

A silky sheet laid loosely over the hills and valleys, masking the sculpted perfection Evan knew so well. Deana’s right, he told himself, but kept staring at the outline of his mother’s body, imagining the lazy posture of her breasts, flat stomach, the mound above her pubic bone, and the thick swells of labia. If Candy spread her legs, the outer flaps would part and flaunt the fiery pink of her inner flesh. The memory of the first time his tongue was engulfed in the pungent, womanly juices made Evan’s body stiffen and jerk. It had taken his breath away.

The night he snuck into Candy’s room, her cute little feet had been the first thing Evan noticed. Then, he saw the red panties that could barely contain what had been the object of thousands of his fantasies; his mother’s pussy.

Evan didn’t have a foot fetish, but he knew from Deana and Miss Tonya what a sensual pleasure zone the feet were. Candy’s pinky toe twitched when his lips approached the ball of her foot. He gently exhaled, and two toes wiggled. What kind of creepy pervert would kiss their mother’s toes while she slept? Pretty much the kind of pervert I’ve become, Evan thought and reached into his pocket. Deana hadn’t said which foot or toe, but only the left was exposed, and that was the one he wanted. It was silly because it wasn’t her hand, and that wasn’t what the ring was supposed to symbolize, but he wanted to see it on her left ring toe if there was such a thing.

“Mom,” he whispered, holding her big toe between his thumb and index finger.

Candy jerked, and her head snapped up. Her wide eyes and stressed face quickly softened when she saw him. “Evan.”

“Mom,” he said. The grin he fought to suppress matched the one he had as a boy while giving Candy the first Mother’s Day present he bought with his allowance money.

“Honey, we can’t.”

“I know,” he said, “I got you something.”

“You what?” Candy asked and righted herself on the pillows so she could watch him.

The tip of Evan’s finger gently circled the underside of her toe. The tension faded, and Candy’s countenance turned. He kissed the tip of her toe and separated it from the others. “Mom, I want you to have something special from me.” He slipped the three bands over her toe, tenderly moving it down while his chin wrinkled and his eyes blinked, fighting back the emotions. “It will remind you of us.” He pressed his lips to the bottom of her foot, and tears fell on her toes. “I love you.” He bowed his head to hide his embarrassment.

It was a beautiful symbol of their love, yet it felt like an ending, a sad, brokenhearted ending.

“Baby, look at me.”

Evan lifted his head and dragged his forearm across his face. Candy was sitting up. A trail of tears ran down her cheeks, fell to her chest, and inched toward her nipples. “Baby, come here.” She patted the spot on the bed next to her.

Evan crawled up alongside his mother without looking at her. She kissed his forehead, laid back on the pillows, and said, “Let me hold you.”

He collapsed beside her and rested his head on her chest while Candy strummed fingers across his cheek. His tears spilled into her cleavage. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said, “it’s all going to work out. I promise.”