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Twenty minutes later, with a creaking door, Mom appeared.
I stood up to meet her, and she very warmly, although not strongly, put her arm around my shoulders with one hand and smiled approvingly.
Well, or so it seemed to me.
Almost immediately, there was a noise at the gate, guests came to us.
That night I did not fall asleep.
The excitement was so strong that I was in a fever: my hands were shaking, my head was swimming, I was nauseated, and
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I was hot.
I knew that I only needed to wait for the morning, wait for my father to leave for work, and my mother would be mine.
In the morning, nevertheless, managed to forget.
I woke up quite late, my father was no longer at home, but there was nothing to be happy about – my mother was going to the city, which is at least four hours.
To kill time, went to the river, then wandered around the house, tried to read.
Mom did not return.
The day was gone to no avail.
Apparently there was no event at all and no memory for anything to cling to.
The night came: the father watched the evening news, mother, tired and serious all evening, went to the bedroom.
I could not stand it and went to her in about five minutes.
For two years of attraction it was the most reckless step.
His father looked through the news from cover to cover, insight and observation were not his strong qualities, therefore suspicions about his son and the flash of the terrible word “incest” in his mind were hardly likely.
And yet, he looked, a little later, in the room.
The light did not burn in the hall or in the bedroom, the eyes did not immediately become accustomed to the darkness and the silhouette of the mother on the bed appeared gradually.
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The bed was not laid out, my mother lay in clothes.
No longer able to hold back, I laid down to her and hugged her.
This night my memory restores very badly.
Mom lay quietly, did not utter a word, although I know she did not sleep.
I remember that I pressed, I remember that I stroked my thigh, I remember sweet cramps in my groin and an eruption in a handkerchief.
Everything went too fast again.
However, this time I was not too upset.
The question of owning a mom already seemed resolved, only dragged on for an extra 24 hours.
Calm from confidence in the future, and maybe from fatigue, I went to sleep.
The change that took place in the mother overnight was amazing, so I have never seen her before.
One glance was enough to understand that today there will be no sex games.
From the whole figure blew severe inaccessibility.
A day passed, the other, my mother remained as hard as granite.
A pair of inclinations to touch her, on the third or fourth day, ran into a hard look with a noticeable admixture of bitterness.
I retreated and did not dare to make new attempts.
Consciousness that everything is over came somehow quickly.
I was tormented by conjectures, I was looking for the reasons for the change, and I fell into despair.
After two weeks of agony, I decided to talk to my mother, to tell her directly about my attraction.
I was preparing for a long time, trying on every word and argument, however, at a decisive hour, it took me again to bring courage by masturbation.
And so, I decided, entered the living room, sat on the edge of the sofa, and loudly, clearly said: “Mom, I have a sexual desire for you.”
Mom filled out a magazine, covered it, and pushed it away.
It was clear that the words hit her hard.
She turned not immediately, it was necessary to gather.
Then, looking hard and hard into my eyes: “I know.”
The look was so strong that I lowered myself to the floor.
– I want to make love to you.
– This is impossible, I am your mother and never go to that.
“But you let me touch yourself.”
– Yes, but it seemed to me that this is a manifestation of the sons of affection.
It was awful to understand what was really going on.
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