It was something of a minor miracle that I heard the knocking on my door through the ruckus of gunfire and dying cries of enemy soldiers from the video game I was playing, but if I hadn’t my life might have turned out very differently. “Who is it?” I asked, pausing my progress just as I was taking out another hapless opponent, irritated at the interruption.

“It’s me, sweetie,” my mom’s voice called out, much calmer than the last time I’d heard it. “May I come in? I just want to talk, I promise.”

I considered the request, not sure if I was ready to face her again. We’d just had a heated argument not too long ago, and I was still in the process of blowing off steam by blowing the heads off as many enemy soldiers as I could. But she had shown me the courtesy of knocking and asking nicely, instead of just barging in as my dad had used to do whenever we’d had a beef. Letting out a long sigh, I pulled myself up from my seat, walked over to the door, and opened it.

“Thank you,” she said, looking relieved. Mom and I were very close, and neither of us liked being angry at the other. I motioned for her to take my chair, while I took a position on the edge of the bed. “First of all,” she said as she settled in her seat, adjusting it so she was facing me, “Let me just apologize for my earlier reaction. It’s not an excuse, but with your father bailing, my disastrous attempts to reenter the dating world, and problems with work, well, let’s just say that I haven’t been in the best of moods lately.”

I nodded, having heard all about the string of suitors that hadn’t lasted longer than the first date, if they even bothered to show up at all. For the life of me I couldn’t understand why my mom had such a hard time finding a good man. She had a wonderful, engaging personality, and even in her mid-forties she was still in excellent shape, firmly believing that looking good was a key component of her success as an interior designer. Which, I thought wryly, probably explained why most of her clients were men.

True, her hips and waist had thickened a bit from bearing two children, and there were a few lines and such beginning to appear around her eyes, mostly from the stress of the past year when dad had, for reasons still unknown to me, suddenly moved out and demanded a divorce. But her wavy golden hair, one of her best features in my opinion, remained free of any trace of gray. And then there was her smile. Damn, it was so bright and radiant she could part rainclouds with it, although it hadn’t been much on display lately.

“It’s okay, mom,” I said, feeling the last of my anger slip away at seeing her look so beaten down. “And as for those idiots it’s their loss,” I said, meaning it. “If they’re too stupid to see what a fine catch you are, they’re not worth your time, anyway.”

Even though the smile she gave me was a weak one, it was still worth the effort. “I appreciate it, sweetie, but I’m not here to moan on about my personal problems. I’m want to talk about what you ... announced at dinner.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, remembering. I’d come home from university yesterday, presumably for my fall mid-semester break. Actually, the truth was that before leaving school I’d dropped out. It’d been the right choice for a lot of reasons, and I didn’t regret it. Only problem was, I didn’t know how to break the news to mom. Until that is, when it just kinda happened.

We were at the table having dinner. That was when mom just happened to ask if I needed anything for school before heading back, and for some reason the truth just came spilling out of my mouth. Mom had been so surprised that she’d dropped the basket of rolls she’d been carrying, sending them rolling all across the carpet. For a moment silence reigned as we just stared at each other.

I immediately knew I’d made a mistake, and attempted to mitigate my blunder with a follow up explanation but for mom, already pent-up with personal and professional frustrations, my declaration must have been the spark that lit the fuse. I’ll spare you the gory details, and just say that it soon escalated into a shouting match that ended with me storming off to my room, which is where you came in.

I rubbed my hand through my hair, grimacing as I relived the scene in my mind. “I’m sorry too, my timing and approach could’ve been way better.”

Her smile broadened a bit. “Congratulations, you just did what your father hasn’t been able to do in a long time – admit any sort of blame for anything. That means more to me than you know.”

I shrugged. “I may have gotten my looks from him, but I like to think that I got my brains and heart from you.”

She chuckled. “If so, then you came out with the best parts of us both, and proven yourself the better man to boot. But enough of that, right now I want to have an open, frank, and calm discussion about your decision to leave school.”

I nodded, not looking forward to this but knowing it needed to be done. “Okay.”

“First off, are you sure this is what you really want?”

I shrugged. “As sure as I can be. It wasn’t like I just woke up one day and said, gee, what a nice day, I think I’ll just go drop out of school and flip my mom out, which I totally didn’t want to do by the way. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and while there are some things about school that I like, I just feel stifled there, like I should be out doing something else, you know?”

She nodded. “I think I do. You’ve always been more of a free spirit like I was in my youth, while Liz (my older sister) took more after your practical father. In a way I blame myself, since I’m the one who pushed you toward college in the first place.”

I shook my head. “Don’t. You were just doing what you thought was best for me, as always. Besides, no matter how you may have encouraged me, in the end it was still my decision. Just like this one is.”

“Alright,” she acknowledged. “Sorry for asking, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t for something trivial or spur of the moment, like maybe a girl broke your heart or something.”

I chuckled. “Fat chance of that, I think I’d actually have to have a date to get a broken heart.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, a handsome fella like you, has been all alone these past few years?”

“It hasn’t been that bad. I’ve had a few relationships, but nothing serious is all I meant,” I said.

“Good,” she said, looking relieved. “I know young men have needs, and I’d hate for you to get too ... pent up, if you know what I mean. It’s not good for your health.”

“I’m fine, mom,” I assured her, not wanting to get into this topic with her of all people. For while it was true that I hadn’t lacked in female companionship, my last real hookup with a girl hadn’t been for several months, and the truth was I was starting to feel a little pent-up.

And now, all this talk of sex had caused me to fixate on her blouse, that’d been unbuttoned a bit since dinner so that the swell of her slightly drooping yet still impressive breasts were now exposed to my sight, causing a slight stirring in my groin. Not that I normally noticed such things. Well, not since my early adolescence anyway when I, like a lot of boys, had a slight crush on her. Heck, I’d even swiped a pair of her panties when I’d first explored masturbation.

But that was then. Now, such thoughts are no longer innocent exploration of burgeoning sexuality, but a twisted perversion you might need professional help for, I chided myself. She’s right, you do need to get laid, if you’re thinking such disgusting things about your own mom. Even if she is hot.

“So is that all?” I asked, hoping it was, for there was something I suddenly and desperately needed to take care of.

“One more thing,” she replied, seeming not to notice my increasing discomfiture. “Do you have any idea what you might want to do now?”

“Actually, yeah,” I said, having already given the matter some thought, glad to have something else to focus my mind on. “Well, you know how I always liked helping plan events and dances and stuff at school, not to mention for you guys, so I was thinking about starting a business where I could help people plan and set up for parties and celebrations and stuff, maybe even run it in conjunction with some catering or something. I think I’d be really good at it.”

I thought she might express some concern or at least hesitation about my plans, but instead she beamed, clapping her hands and practically bouncing up and down in the chair. “Oh, darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea! And you’re right, with all that incredible imagination and energy you’ve got, I know you’d be just wonderful at it!”

“Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised at her reaction. Although I guess I shouldn’t have been, since our similar personalities and penchant for outlandish creative endeavors over the years had created a bond between us more akin to best buds than parent and child, fondly recollecting how we always collaborated to decorate our yard for the holidays, among other things, to the dismay my more practical dad and sister.

“Of course! I’ve always loved what you’ve done around here for my birthday, and I know Liz has as well, even if she didn’t always say so. There’s just one thing,” she added, “You’ll need some money to get started. Any idea on how you’re going to raise it?”

And just like that, mom had found the flaw in my brilliant plan. “I don’t know, I figured I might look for a job, maybe build up some credit and take out a loan eventually.” God, even just saying the words left a bad taste in my mouth.

“That’s possible,” she conceded, looking thoughtful. “But there is an easier way.”

I perked up at that. “Really? What is it?”

“Me. I could loan you the money.”

I frowned. Money wasn’t exactly tight around here, but ever since dad was out of the picture and mom lost some of her biggest clients it wasn’t flowing as freely as it used to. So the only way she could come up with that much money right now was to ... I shook my head. “No way, I don’t want you dipping into your retirement to fund my crazy idea.”

“And I won’t,” she assured me. “I haven’t told you or your sister yet, but besides this house your father also gave me, as part of the settlement, one of his rental properties. It’s in pretty bad shape, and instead of going to all the bother of trying to fix it up I’ve been thinking about just selling it. That way, I could use the proceeds to help you get started in your business.”

I had to admit that I was intrigued by her offer, allowing me to speed up my plans considerably. Even so, I wasn’t ready to bite just yet. “And where would you fit in to this arrangement? Would you be like, my boss or something?”

“Not at all, sweetie,” she assured me, patting my knee. “I was thinking more of a partnership. You handle more the creative side of things, and I’ll deal with the financials, since I have experience with that kind of thing. And I might help manage the weddings, since I know guys don’t really go for that kind of thing.”

“What about your interior design business?” I asked, frowning, knowing how much time and effort she’d put into it over the years.

She shrugged. “Well, as you know, it’s not as profitable as it used to be, so I was thinking about shutting it down and concentrating on this new venture.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, frowning. “So, does that mean you knew what I was up to, dropping out of school and all, before I even got here?”

She laughed, truly and deeply, for the first time I could remember. “Goodness, no, I’m not a mind reader,” she said, reaching out and rubbing my knee. “But I do know you pretty well, sweetie, probably better than anyone. I’ve had the feeling for months you weren’t happy in college, and I’d been toying with this idea for a joint venture few weeks that I wanted to run by you when you came back home. However, I had no idea you’d take things so far, so fast. Guess that impulsivity is something else you got from me.”

Good ol’ mom, I thought, she’d always been the one who understood me best, even at times like this, my mind already whirling as I considered the possibilities and what would be needed to put this plan into action. “For something like this to work, we might have to move closer to the city to really open up the opportunities.”

She chuckled. “You see, this is gonna be great because we’re already on the same page. I was deliberating selling this place and finding something else, maybe with space for a work area or something, if that was alright with you.”

“Sounds awesome,” I said, getting more excited by the moment. For I had no special attachment to this town or this house since most of my friends had already left. Not to mention dad and Liz were treating me like a stranger, I suppose since I’d naturally taken mom’s side in the divorce while my sister had stuck with dad. And I knew mom would have no qualms about getting out of this place and all the memories that went with it. “But what’s the catch?”

“Pardon?”

“I get the feeling there’s this really big string attached to this deal that I’m not seeing yet, so what is it?”

She let out a sigh, smiling wanly. “Can’t get anything past you, can I? Alright, there is something, but it’s not what you think. In fact, you might even like it.”

“I’m listening,” I said, bracing myself.

“I’d like you to take a road trip with me.”

Of all the things I was expecting her to say, that wasn’t even on the list. “I’m sorry?” I asked. “Did you say road trip? Like the ones dad used to drag us on?”

She nodded. “But before you answer, just hear me out. I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, you know, just getting away and hitting the open road like the good old days. But I’ve never really travelled on my own, even before I married your dad I had friends with me. I’d like to have someone with me I can talk to, someone I can trust. And you know how I’ve always loved autumn, with the leaves changing and the cooler weather, so it’d be the perfect time to hit the road.”

“What about Liz?” I asked apprehensively. Don’t get me wrong I loved my older sister, but being a several years older than me, complete with a hard-nosed personality inherited from dad, we’d gotten along but had never been close. That’s why I wasn’t sure how I felt about spending two or three weeks in the car with her, knowing that sooner or later the divorce would come up and the sparks would fly.

“Well, I did ask her, but she’s really busy with her work right now, and can’t take any time off,” she explained with a small shrug.

Can’t, or won’t, I wanted to say, detecting the trace of hurt in mom’s voice, but decided to remain silent. “So it’d just be you and me. What do you say?” she asked, looking at me expectantly.

I mulled it over. Even though I’d always hated these little excursions driving around the countryside that dad was always taking us on instead of what I considered real vacations, I couldn’t deny that this one held some real appeal for me. This time it would just be mom and I, hanging out like old times without dad looming in the background rushing us on to the next tourist trap on his list, or Liz poking fun at me for the car games I’d invent to pass the time.

And I could tell mom really needed this as well. I could hear it in her tired voice, see the weariness in her beautiful blue eyes. She needed to get away from everything that reminded her of the tumultuous last year and just relax so she could unburden herself from all that negative emotional baggage she was still carrying. It would do wonders for her outlook, and help her approach life with a new, fresh perspective. Besides, after everything she’d done for me, and was offering to do for me now, how could I say no to such a simple request?

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Let’s do it.”

Her face lit up with a radiance I hadn’t seen in a long time. “Oh, thank you sweetie,” she said, rising as well and giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. Was it just me, or were her breasts squeezing a little tighter against my chest than they normally did? “And I promise, you won’t regret it.”

We left a few days later after packing and making a rough list of places and spots we might like to visit, our interests aligning to a remarkable degree. We sampled a bit of everything – historical sites, national and state parks, odd and offbeat museums of every sort. We went at our own pace and stuck to no schedule, often sleeping in and not getting out until past noon or later, often discarding our list altogether and just stopping at places that caught our eye.

And it turned out I’d been right about mom. For as the days passed the worries and cares that’d been weighing on her began to fall away, revealing the happy, cheerful person I remembered from my childhood. Our relationship once again slipped into a comfortable and casual camaraderie that I was used to, and even more so as soon I found myself talking and joking with her about things I’d never dared do so before. It was almost as if she’d slipped back into the wild and carefree days of her youth before her marriage to dad, of which I was now discovering more and more of as she recounted some of her wilder and as-yet unknown escapades. And the more I learned, the more I liked it, and wondered how dad could’ve been foolish enough to let a woman like this get away.

And that’s when things started getting strange.

“Here you go,” the odd man with the bright orange hair and outlandish outfit said, handing mom back her phone after snapping a picture of me and her together in front of a recreated 80s bedroom that reminded mom of the one she’d had when she was little. We were inside of a larger museum dedicated to 80s culture that had caught mom’s eye, and having some interest in the decade myself I hadn’t objected to the detour. We had our faces pressed against each other’s, grinning from ear to ear. “And may I just say what a lovely couple you two make,” he said with a sharp grin before tipping his hat, a wide-brimmed top hat that looked to be made out of some sort of orange fur-like material.

Perhaps I should take this moment to explain something – as noted earlier, I’d inherited pretty much all my physical characteristics from my dad (save for mom’s blue eyes), meaning that with my taller stature, broad chest, and round face with sharply defined facial features topped with scraggly brown hair, I looked nothing like my mother with her slim figure, small oval visage with large eyes and full lips crowned a mane of luxuriant golden hair. That’s why most people when they first met us usually never guessed at our actual relationship, but this was the first time anyone had ever mistaken us for a couple.

For a moment both of us were so surprised by what we’d just heard that we were speechless, until at last my mom broke the spell by giggling. “Well, that was certainly a surprise, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah...” I said, scratching at my head. “Imagine him thinking we were together like that. Weird.”

“Oh, I don’t know about weird,” my mom mused. “I actually think it’s kind of flattering, that he thinks an old fuddy like me could snag a hot young stud like you.”

Now a few weeks ago, such talk like this from my mom might have shocked me, but as open as we’d become over the course of our trip it barely even registered, and my only response was to chuckle. “Don’t sell yourself short, mom, you’re hotter than most women ten, even fifteen years your junior. Why, if we weren’t related, I’d...”

“You’d what?” she asked, turning to me with the sultriest look I’d ever seen on a woman’s face. “What sort of naughty things would you do to me, if I hadn’t given birth to you?”

I swallowed. Okay, being open was one thing, but this was getting downright bizarre, crossing into territory that should never be explored by a parent and child. “Oh, I just meant that if we weren’t family, maybe I’d take you out to dinner, maybe dancing. You know, treat you the way you deserve to be treated, like a lady.”

“Oh,” she said, almost seeming disappointed by my answer. “But on second thought,” she said after thinking a moment, “maybe that’s not be such a bad idea.”

“What? What do you mean?”

She smiled again, only this time it was lighter and more playful. “How’d you like to become my boyfriend for the rest of the trip?”

I could almost feel my jaw hitting the floor. “Wait ... what?”

“Oh, not for real, silly,” she said, swiping teasingly at my arm. “But what you said got me thinking – it’s been such a long time since I’ve been with a man who wanted to just spend time with me, to make me feel special, instead of just trying to get me in the sack. It hasn’t happened since I started dating your father, now that I think on it. We could just do what you suggested – dinner, dancing, maybe even a little snuggling and light petting if you’re up for it.”

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling both excited and appalled by the idea. “Wouldn’t it be, you know, odd? And what if someone found out?”

“So what if they did?” she asked, shrugging. It was a bold statement she wouldn’t have dared even think of a few weeks ago, let alone say aloud. “It’s not like they know who we are, or where we’re from, and it’s none of their business anyway what we do. But I’m willing to bet that most will be like the guy who took our picture and just assume we’re another random, happy couple. Besides, would it really be that great of a leap from what we’re doing now? Come on, sweetie, it’ll be fun!” she said, rubbing my shoulder and grinning.

She does have a good point, I considered. We were already acting like best friends, would it really be much different to take the next step and act like boyfriend and girlfriend? And it would be a help to mom, I reasoned, bolstering her self-confidence enough to attract a decent man when we returned home. Yes, my participation in this lover’s farce was for purely altruistic reasons, I assured myself.

“Agreed,” I said at last.

What followed was the most surreal week of my life, as the cozy relationship I’d established with my mother became downright intimate. In public we held hands, snuggled, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies. There were limits, of course, but that didn’t stop me from savoring the feel of rubbing my hands over her back, through her beautiful hair, even her perfectly rounded ass, even squeezing it every now and then. She enjoyed herself too, having a particular fondness for running her fingers along my chest, which, while not the perfectly chiseled torso of a bodybuilder, was still nothing to sneeze at. “Just like your father’s when he was young,” she murmured. She even started wearing tighter, more revealing outfits that really showed off her figure, and I relished the envious looks I’d get from other men when we passed by.

And as for what was now happening behind closed doors, well, that was an entirely new experience in itself. Mom, usually very guarded about her privacy, now began strolling and lounging around our motel room in nothing but her bra and panties, seeming to appreciate rather than disdain the way I ogled the only female body I’d seen in a long time.

Not only that, but instead of carefully closing and locking the bathroom door when she showered, somehow it now seemed to always be slightly ajar, and despite my best efforts I couldn’t help but catch a slight glimpse of the curve of her bare ass, or the profile of her generous breasts. A time or two, I even thought I even thought I detected soft moans mingled with the sound of the shower.

Needless to say, the presence of these new visual and sensual treats despite their source, coupled with my already sex-starved cock, led to the need for some urgent and frequent relief. However, unlike mom, my sessions took place behind a carefully locked bathroom door. At first, I tried to focus on other girls as I beat myself off – old girlfriends, women I’d come seen and chatted with on the trip, anything.

But the imagery, the feel of my mom’s warm flesh under my hand was too fresh in my mind, until I finally just gave up the effort and surrendered to the perversity of imagining myself involved in every kind of depraved act with my mom, surprised to find that my climaxes were more intense than any I’d ever had, even during actual sex. At first I felt guilty, wondering what was wrong with me. But it soon faded, rationalizing to myself that as long as it stayed within the confines of my own deviant mind, what was the harm?

The trouble is, sometimes what’s born in your brain has a hard time staying there.

The next incident, as I’ll call it, started late one night after a long day of sightseeing. We were dog tired, and the only available motel in the area we found ourselves in only had one room available with, yep you guessed it – one bed. I, being a gentleman, offered to take the couch. But mom would have none of it, insisting (rightly) that it was too small, that there was no reason we couldn’t share the perfectly good (and large) bed. So even though I had misgivings considering our recent frisky behavior I was too tired to argue, and thus reluctantly accepted.

Things started out normal enough as I climbed into the bed with my mother for the first time since I was seven and had a nightmare. I was feeling calm and relaxed, having jerked off during my shower to stave off any unnatural thoughts or urges. Mom was already in bed reading, clad in a light blue chemise that, while still sexy (hell, by this point she could be wearing flannel pajamas and a muumuu with her hair in curlers and still be hot to me) wasn’t as provocative as some of her other recent bedtime attire. Not only that, but there was still a respectable distance between us on the king-sized bed, allaying the last of my fears as we said goodnight and turned off the lamps.

The next thing I knew my eyes were shooting open, and I could feel a throbbing hardon, the strongest one I’d ever felt, pressing painfully against my shorts. I tried to move, only to find myself pinned in place by something over my leg. My heart began throbbing as I started to panic, not knowing what the fuck was going on. But then my brain slowly churned to life, and the pieces began to fall into place – the trip, the motel room, my mother...

My eyes went wide. Fuck, my mother! And suddenly I realized what was pinning me down – mom must have rolled over in her sleep, maybe thinking I was dad, and threw her long, bare, smooth leg over mine. Not only that but she’d snuggled up beside me, head buried in my shoulder, breasts mashed into my arm. Fuck, no wonder I had such a raging boner, I thought, even in sleep my body had reacted instinctively to her touch.

I carefully tried to extricate myself from her so I could get to the bathroom to take care of the four-alarm erection I was sporting, trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of her floral body wash mingling with her own incredible natural scent. But despite my best efforts her leg held mine tight, and suddenly I realized that with my struggling that I now felt a new sensation against my thigh, something lacy. Fuck, I thought, that’s her panties, and something else ... moisture? Oh shit, I thought, is my mom wet?!

But before my overloaded brain could process this information, I heard my mom mumble and start to stir in response to my efforts to disentangle myself. “Mmmm ... James,” she murmured out my dad’s name, still sounding half asleep. “I’m feeling frisky. Up for a little fun?”

So she did think I was dad. But before I could react, I felt her small, slender fingers reach and wrap around my cock through my shorts, gripping it tightly as I gasped in surprise. “I guess you are up for it, aren’t you baby?” she giggled as she ran her hand up and down my length.

“Not ... James...” was all I could manage to squawk out through the intense waves of pleasure radiating out from my groin to assault my body.

Suddenly the motion stopped and I felt her body tense as she shifted in the bed, feeling her leg lift away from mine. “Oh my god, Tim?!” I heard her cry out, the drowsiness gone from her voice.

“Um, yeah,” was all I could think to say, relieved but also disappointed that she’d stopped her ministrations, although I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t moved her hand.

“I’m so sorry ... I just thought for a moment there that you were someone else.”

“I know, and it’s okay,” I assured her. “Now could you um, let me go so I can go take care something?” I said, never thinking I’d be asking such a thing of my mom of all people.

She was quiet for a moment, as if considering something before she spoke again. “Tell you what, sweetie, since mommy is to blame for your ... situation, how about you let her take care of it?” she whispered hotly in my ear, as her hand resumed stroking my rod. “We’ll make it part of the girlfriend experience. Would you like that?”

I should’ve said no thanks, and gotten out of bed right then and there and, after resolving the situation, made a valiant but futile attempt to sleep on the too-small sofa. But damn, it felt sooooo good, and it’d been so long, too long, since my cock had received any sort of female attention. “Fuck yeah, go for it,” I groaned.

“Good boy,” she giggled, releasing my cock just long enough to grab hold of my shorts, pulling both them and my boxers down around my knees with one hand, lifting my midsection up to help her efforts. “Oh ... yeeesss...” I whispered as her fingers clutched around my bare cock for the first time.