Chapter 4

"That was so cool," Bobby said excitedly while they drove home from Harry and Wendy's.

"Did you like Wendy?"

"Yeah, she was hot!" Then after a pause, he asked very softly, "Did you like her husband?"

Sally looked briefly at her son and then turned to watch the road. "What do you think?"

"It looked like you did."

"You're right, I did ... very much so. He has the biggest dick I ever had."

"Mom!"

She looked quickly at Bobby before turning forward again. "Don't 'Mom!' me, young man. After what we just did in front of each other you can't be embarrassed by talking about it."

Bobby hung his head and said softly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just that ... well, you're my mom and it feels funny to hear you say stuff like that."

"And to see me do stuff like that?"

Bobby turned and stared at his mother. Her eyes were focused on the road as she maneuvered through traffic. He looked at her face and then the swell of her breasts and finally her lap and legs. In his mind he saw her naked -- her breasts, her ass, her pussy. When she turned towards him he quickly looked away.

"Well?" she asked, the index finger of her right hand tapping the steering wheel.

"I guess it was okay."

"Just okay? Am I that old and decrepit?"

"No, you're hot!" Sally turned towards him and he quickly looked down and said softly, "But you're my mom."

Sally patted his knee and squeezed it once. "Thanks."

The rest of the ride home was spent talking about how it felt to have sex with their respective partners. It almost came up several times, but they avoided discussing their watching each other. Bobby couldn't believe he was able to listen to his mother talk about how much Harry's cock stretched her pussy and how stuffed she felt. Bobby thought back to smelling and licking the back of Wendy's hand and covered the hard-on that sprung up.

Bobby and his mother thought it was the best day of their lives. They were giggling like schoolchildren as they entered the house and Bobby even playfully slapped his mother's ass. But when she grabbed his cock he jumped away and blushed. Sally chuckled as she went to check for telephone messages. She pressed the play button and listened to a message from Wendy and Harry.

Wendy: "Hi. It's Wendy and Harry. We had a great time."

Harry: "Yeah, it was great."

Wendy: "Hey, quit pushing. Anyway, just wanted you both to know that. We need to jump in the shower. Hope to do this again real soon. And tell Bobby he's a stud. Bye."

Harry: "Bye."

Sally and Bobby looked at each other and broke out laughing. Then the next message began. "This call is for Mrs. John Presley. Please call American Airlines at 800 555-1000 extension 112."

"Now what?" Sally said. "Oh god, I bet Dad's flight is going to be late. I was so looking forward to him coming home so I could tell him all about what we did with Harry and Wendy."

"Mom, you're going to tell Dad?"

"Of course. He'll get so excited he'll fuck me all night."

"Mom!"

"Aw, come on, doesn't the old man deserve a treat?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Just don't make too much noise. I don't think I can handle that."

Suddenly, Sally became quiet and sullen. "Why didn't your father call?" she said to Bobby but mostly to herself. "That's odd."

She picked up the telephone and dialed the number she had scribbled down, waited, and then poked in the extension. She looked at Bobby with the phone pressed to her ear, her finger tapping it, and then her eyes shifted and became alert as she introduced herself into the phone. Bobby watched his mother's face. She went from calm to tense and then the color drained from her face.

"Mom, what's the matter?" he asked, but she remained mute, listening intently.

Bobby saw her body tremble and then her eyes watered. He again asked what was wrong but it was as if he wasn't there. And then tears ran down both cheeks. She closed her eyes and her knees buckled. Bobby was quick and grabbed her under the arms as she collapsed, the back of her head slamming against his chest, the telephone falling to the floor with a clank. He heard a woman's voice coming from the telephone saying, "Mrs. Presley? Mrs. Presley, are you all right?"

Bobby gently lowered his mother to the floor. He sat with her sitting between his spread legs, her back resting against him, her sobs getting louder. He picked up the telephone and said, "This is Bobby Presley."

"Is your mother still there?"

"She fell and is crying. What did you say to her?"

"There was a plane crash and..."

Bobby didn't hear any more. He dropped the phone and hugged his mother to him and gently rocked her.

The airline eventually sent someone to the house and he went over the logistics. He took a sample from Bobby to be used for DNA testing to identify his father. It had been a horrific crash with a lot of fire. Until they were able to identify the remains, which could take several days, nothing could be done. Then they'd transport Bobby's father to the funeral home for burial.

When the airline representative left, Bobby and his mother hugged and cried. Then they went to bed.

Bobby lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his hands cupped behind his head and his elbows out. He had the end table lamp on not wanting to be in the dark. His eyes moved slowly to the door when it opened and his mother's head appeared around the edge.

"Bobby?" she said very softly.

"I'm up."

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can't sleep."

"Me neither. I feel so alone. Bobby?"

"What?"

"Bobby, can you sleep with me tonight. I can't be alone. Please, honey."

"Sure, Mom, just give me a minute. I'll be right there."

After Sally left, Bobby climbed out from under the cover and slipped on a pair of underwear. He always slept nude and even though his mother had seen him naked at Wendy and Harry's, he felt uncomfortable with her seeing him naked in his own bedroom in a non-swinger situation.

When Bobby entered his mother's bedroom, a tear fell as he realized it was no longer his parents' bedroom. He saw her crumpled robe on the floor, something she would never have done in the past. He remembered being reprimanded more than once for leaving clothes on the floor in his bedroom. His mother lay on her back with the cover pulled up to her chin. Even in the low lamp light he was able to see her red, puffy eyes and the tear streaks on her face. He shuffled to what had been his father's side of the bed and climbed in. When Sally reached to turn off the lamp, the cover slid partway off her body. Her light pink satiny nightgown clung to her body as she stretched, and then the room fell into darkness.

Bobby lay awake, now staring into blackness. But soon his eyes adjusted and there was enough moonlight to provide a grayish tint to the room and his eyes burned a hole into the ceiling. Why did this happen? What are we gonna do? But his self pity was interrupted by soft sobs coming from next to him.

"Mom, are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, am I keeping you up?"

"Don't cry, Mom."

"Bobby, I miss him so."

"Me too."

"Hold me, Bobby. Please hold me."

Bobby rolled onto his side and draped an arm over his mother's body. The bottom of her breasts rested on his arm and he felt her chest rising and falling with each sob. He moved closer, snuggling into her. And that's how they fell asleep.

The next night was the same, and the next and the next. Sally would come to Bobby's bedroom and ask if he'd sleep with her. Of course he did and he even started wearing underwear to bed so he could hold his mother as they walked to her bedroom. The fact that he was in his underwear and she a nightgown wasn't even noticed. Once in bed he'd hold her and she'd cry herself to sleep. On the fifth night Bobby got ready for bed and went to his mother's bedroom. She looked at him through watery eyes as he padded to his father's side of the bed and climbed in. Not a word was spoken and Sally rolled onto her side to face her son. They embraced and she fell asleep with her face buried in his wet chest.