A Haunting

A Haunting

Chapter one

Two Years Ago...

A large crowd waited for my father's interment, in reverent silence. Standing next to my mother, I felt wholly inadequate in my attempt to console her. Weeping, as the casket of my father slowly made its way into his final resting place, my mother clung to my arm, for support. At the time, I needed support, too, but I recognized that I had to grow up quickly.

The squeaking sound of the casket crank, as it slowly turned, sent a chill through me, and a flood of memories went through my mind. The next to the last, being how unfair it seemed, to be widowed, at such a young age. My final thought was about the late-night call I received, announcing my father's demise, and how those types of late calls always seemed to bring terrible news. I was a first-year student in college, just starting my first semester, at the time.

Current day...

Waking in a cold sweat, I abruptly sat up in bed, wide eyed, breathing rapidly, and scared, far worse than I'd ever been in my life. I knew it had been a dream, and yet, I felt the need to keep repeating the fact over and over in my mind. Moving to slide my legs off the bed, I rubbed my face with both hands, wiping off the night's terror sweats. With shaky legs, I stood, and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

Later, entering the kitchen, I moved to my mother's side and kissed her cheek. "Morning."

Turning her head, she smiled at me. "Sleep well, Bobby?" she asked, turning on the coffee pot.

"Yeah," I mumbled out, plopping down in a seat at the kitchen table.

"Ah... you don't sound like you did. What's wrong?" she asked, walking up to massage the back of my neck.

Hesitating, I didn't reply, and instead sighed, at the feel of her hands. Finally, I rolled my head around, grateful for the small release of tension, and thanked her.

"Can I ask you something?" I started out.

"Of course, what is it?"

~ 1 ~

"Do you ever dream of dad?"

"Is that what this is about? Yes, of course, I do," she replied, moving to ease down, across from me, at the table.

"Yeah? Do any of them seem... I don't know... like real?"

My mother, Beth, took a deep breath, looking at me with loving eyes, before exhaling to answer.

"Real? Well, yes, there are times when I feel like your father's still here," she replied, letting her voice trail off.

"Huh, me too. It's weird, mom... I've even had conversations with him, you know."

Getting up, she lovingly patted my shoulder, and went to the kitchen counter. Pouring two cups of coffee, she returned, setting one down in front of me.

"So, what do you talk about?"

It was a simple question, and not unexpected, but I was unsure if I should tell her. I sipped on my coffee, delaying.

"Bobby?" she pressed, looking concerned, at my lack of response.

"Yeah, well you... mostly you," I blurted out.

"Oh?"

Obviously, my comment had piqued her interest, and she locked eyes with me.

"What about me?"

"I'm not sure if I should say," I said, in a weak voice.

Reaching out to grip my forearm, she smiled.

"Look, it's just you and me now, so I think we can share anything that's on our minds... don't you?"

I nodded, still not quite certain, but after hesitating again, I finally answered.

~ 2 ~

"He's worried about you," I began, watching her reaction. "He's worried that you aren't getting back on the horse, whatever that means," I added.

My mother grinned, and then chuckled.

"What, what's so funny?"

"Sorry... nothing, honey. It just struck me, you look so much like him, and what you said was so typical of your father," she explained.

"I don't get it, get back on what horse?"

Raising her cup, she looked at me, over the rim. I could tell she was considering how to answer, or perhaps even answering at all. Slowly, lowering the cup, she cleared her throat.

"Ahem, well, okay... I did say anything, I guess, and you're certainly old enough. The conversation you were having was about sex, Bobby," she replied, with a straight face, I wouldn't have believed possible. Before I could respond, she added, "That's beyond odd, though."

"How so?" I asked, now even more curious.

"Well, you... having that conversation, in a dream, or at all, for that matter, and you knowing what he called it when I used to get on top and sit on his..."

I was taken back by my mother's bluntness, suddenly understanding what riding the horse meant. Apparently, seeing the 'light bulb' go off above my head, she went on.

"I take it you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded. "He's worried about your sex life, right?"

"I guess that's one way to put it, but why he'd be talking to you about it is beyond me," she replied.

The odd thing about our discussion was how normal it felt, I didn't feel ashamed, and from what I could tell, neither did she. I got up from the kitchen table, going for a second cup of coffee.

"Bobby, I don't mind having this conversation with you, just so long as it stays between you and me, got it?" she said, rising from the table, to join me.

"Understood, but I do have one more question. He mentioned reverse cowboy, was he referring to...?"

~ 3 ~

She blushed, leaned in, and kissed me on the lips. "Yes, he was, and keep that to yourself, too."

Surprised, I grinned. "He said it was his favorite way."

Her eyes widened, and she playfully slapped my arm.

"You know way too much about my sex life, mister! I gotta get ready for work, we'll talk later."

Chapter two

Four days later...

"Bobby... Bobby, it's dad."

The voice was clear, and most shocking of all, I wasn't asleep, I was standing in the shower when I heard it.

"Dad?"

"Good, you can hear me, I wasn't sure."

"Jesus, you scared me... how are you talking to me, now?"

"Not sure, but hear me out, I know you had a conversation with Beth, a few days back."

"I did, why are you angry?"

"No, actually it might make what I want you to do easier."

Okay I was at a loss, and freaked out. Oddly, I covered my genitals, and heard the voice in my head laugh.

"Better get used to me, son, and it's nice to see you're taking after your ol' man."

"What? What are you saying?"

"Never mind, let's just say, you and I are going to have a very close relationship, for a while."

"Huh?"

~ 4 ~

"Let me explain it this way, relax, Bobby, close your eyes, and clear your mind."

Reluctantly, I did as he asked, although it wasn't easy. Feeling nothing for a few minutes, and just about to talk, my body shook, as I suddenly felt a strange presence, like something had entered me physically.

"Dad!? Are you..." I started to question a loud.

"Yeah, wow, this is weird! I wasn't sure if it would work, but here I am with a nineteen-year-old body."

I'd made no effort to move my arms, but there they were, outstretched, in front of me, rotating like I was inspecting them. Apparently, my father was now, somehow, in control of my body.

"Damn... youthful, muscular and... holy shit, look at the size of my cock!"

His outburst came just as my mother walked into the bathroom. "Bobby, are you okay? Who are you talking to?"

Mentally freaked out, and still engaged with my father, I somehow managed to answer my mother.

"I'm... I'm fine, just thinking out loud."

"Okay, sorry about barging in, I won't be but a minute. Heading out to work early, see you tonight."

"Sure, see you tonight," I answered back, sighing in relief, after hearing the bathroom door close.

"Jesus, dad, you can't be doing this," I whispered out harshly.

"Nonsense, calm down. I had to know."

Suddenly losing my balance, like I was on a small boat, rocked by a wave, I felt alone. However he had entered, my father had left, leaving me to wonder what would come next. That night, when I was in my mother's presence again, I decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

"So, I was wondering... have you thought any more about what we were talking about, a few days ago?" I questioned, feeling tentative about asking.

"Ah... are you referring to you knowing too much about my sex life?" she responded, grinning without looking my way.

"No, that's not it, well not entirely... but does my knowing bother you?"

~ 5 ~

Laughing softly, my mother shook her head, and finally turned to face me.

"No, I guess not, what's going on now? Why are you bringing this up again? Have you been dream-talking with John?" she asked.

Hesitating in answering, I looked down at the floor.

"Not exactly," I mumbled.

"I see... then what?"

"I wasn't sleeping, I was in the shower," I explained, lifting my head.

"The shower? Are you saying you were awake, talking with John?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief, and then quickly asked, "When I was in the bathroom!?"

I nodded. My serious look must have convinced her I wasn't telling a lie, as she brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth, briefly.

"Jesus, Bobby, this is getting out of hand. I mean... it's one thing dreaming about your father, even dreaming about talking with him, but..." she said, obviously concerned, yet not finishing what she was going to say.

I shivered under her steady gaze, and shifted my feet, in nervous anticipation. When she didn't go on, I decided to tell her about the entire interaction, well almost.

"That's not all - I felt him, felt him inside me."

"What!?"

"It's true, I swear!" I blurted out, almost in a pleading way.

I watched her face turn pale, before she walked off, without saying a word. Returning a short time later, she held a drink, and moved to sit on the couch. Patting the cushion, she motioned for me to sit down with her, as she took a healthy sip of her drink. A moment of silence fell between us, as she inhaled deeply.

"Okay... can you understand, I'm finding this hard to believe? Bobby, you are talking about being possessed, or something like it, my God!" she began, lifting her shaking hand to take a drink. "Your father is gone, Bobby, you know that. This has to stop; the dead don't come back."

There was a finality in her words, and opening my mouth, I intended to argue, but changed my mind. Instead, I decided to tell her what my conversation was about, and so I did. When I'd finished, she sat, trembling. I took the drink from her hands and set it on the coffee table.

~ 6 ~

"Mom?"

"This isn't funny anymore... what, what is it that he wants?"

Curiously, without hesitation, I responded, "You mom, I think he wants you."

Chapter three

A week later...

Our last conversation had ended with a revelation, and my mother shaken. For a solid week, she avoided conversing about anything, but basic small talk. Although feeling guilty about bringing up what had happened in the shower, I was just grateful that my dreams weren't permeated in discussions with my father, and being possessed - as my mother put it, hadn't reoccurred, either. My relaxed state was about to end, without me knowing.

On a Sunday evening, we sat enjoying a quiet night, reading and listening to music. Besides the music, the only sound was the turning of pages, and my mother setting her drink back on the light stand, next to her chair. At one point, she cleared her throat, and I looked at her, smiling over her stunning beauty.

Having recently seen a movie trailer for the remake of Barbarella, I couldn't get over how much she looked like Sydney Sweeney, the actress. Unaware of my gaze, I watched her curl her blonde hair, with her left index finger and thumb, as she read.

Blue eyes, full, pouting, lips and a slightly up-turned nose, nearly completed the comparison. At five-foot-one-inch, she mirrored Sweeney's height, and the final giveaway was her full breasts. Sitting slightly sideways to me, I caught her hand moving to slide her fingers inside the armpit of her nightgown, casually itching the side of her plump breast.

A movement I made caught her eye, and she looked my way. Slowly withdrawing her fingers, she smiled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to stare," I offered, averting my eyes.

"It's okay, a woman likes to be noticed. How's your book?" she replied, seemingly unconcerned.

"Good... hey, I'm going for a Coke, you want anything?" I asked, rising from the couch.

Leaning to the side, she grabbed her empty drink, and handed it to me.

~ 7 ~

"Vodka and two ice cubes, please, and thank you," she said, grinning.

Humming and happy with myself, I grabbed a Coke, and started to make the drink. From nowhere, I felt a sudden burst of intense cold. It was summer, and there was no reason for what I felt.

Although the windows were open, there was no appreciable breeze, and I looked around trying to find a source for the cold. Finally, shrugging it off, I finished making the drink. Entering the living room, I stopped dead in my tracks. Just behind my mother, a ghostly, translucent, figure seemed to fade in and out. Oblivious to it, she looked up, hearing my approach.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, or what?"

The figure behind her shimmered, moving like a curtain, teased by the wind. For a brief instance, I thought I saw my father's face materialize, and I choked, coughing roughly. My mother jumped up and ran to me.

"Jesus, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost!" she commented, patting my back.

I caught my breath, with her help, and chuckled, in an unconvincing manner.

"Ghost? Don't be silly, I just swallowed wrong," I offered, hoping she wouldn't press the ghost thing any further, and handed over her drink.

"Okay, you just scared me, is all. Come on, let's sit down."

Looking over her shoulder and across the room, I saw the apparition fading, and let out a sigh of relief, although my mind was racing.

"Can I sit with you on the couch?" she asked, as we moved into the room.

The question seemed silly, but I nodded, welcoming the idea. Once on the couch, she set her glass on the coffee table, and turned to me.

"You still don't look good, Bobby. Are you getting sick?"

I wanted to alleviate her concern, but nothing came to mind. Staying silent, I took the first healthy sip of my Coke, and immediately let out a resounding belch, making her laugh in surprise.

"Well, that sounded healthy enough, wow."

"Sorry," my reply, came with a slight blush.

~ 8 ~

Picking up her drink, she eased back, resting her arm on the back of the couch. Trying to relax, I sank down to rest my head on her arm. Mentally, I was a wreck, wondering what, if anything, should I say to her. Half my Coke was gone, when the decision was made.

"Mom, you asked me if I'd seen a ghost... I did," I said, in a way she couldn't ignore.

Instantly, she sat up, ripping my headrest away.

"What the fuck!? I thought we were over this!"

Shocked by her angry outburst, I stood up quickly. "I wasn't going to say anything, but... he was there, mom, right there, behind the couch," I told her, as calmly as I could.

"What, seriously? You saw him... your father, you saw your father?"

I nodded in acknowledgement, and then shrugged.

"Yeah... yeah I did, at least I think it was him."

Our last conversation about my experiences didn't end particularly well, and this one seemed to be going in the same direction. Rising from the couch, she swallowed hard, giving me a look of disbelief.

"Bobby, I want the truth. Since the bathroom incident has anything else happened to you?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, I shook my head.

"Nothing...? No dreams, no being possessed - no interactions with him, at all?" she pressed.

I stood my ground, again telling her no, by shaking my head.

"No, mom, seeing what I just did was the first time in over a week," I replied, feeling defeated for a reason I couldn't explain.

Exasperated, picking up her drink, she downed it in one gulp. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly.

"Whatever is going on... you think he wants me. How, just how Bobby, would that happen?" she questioned.

It was my turn for a deep breath, only mine was a shuddering intake and release.

~ 9 ~

"I think he intends to use me, mom. The thing in the shower - that was him controlling me - and I couldn't stop him, all I could do was watch. I begged him to stop, but he said he had to know," I explained, with a trembling voice.

"Jesus," she exclaimed.

"Mom, I think you are wrong... I think the dead can come back."

Chapter four

Three days later, the weekend...

Going into the weekend, my dad had come to me every day prior. For three days, he entered me, getting stronger at controlling me. His singular desire was becoming mine, in a way I didn't think possible, and it bothered me, so I kept quiet about what was happening.

At nineteen, I was still a virgin, a fact that my father didn't seem to care about. His message in my mind was loud and clear, he had every intension of using my body to have sex with his wife, my mother. The very thought sent chills through me, and at the same time, created an ache in my loins. An ache I recognized all too well, being no stranger to masturbation.

As for my mother, aware or not, she seemed to be changing, in her own right. Not a day went by that I didn't catch her looking at me, like she was considering all that had been happening. Often, her looks seem pointed, complete with either lip licking, or lip biting, as if she were considering something unthinkable. Those looks intensified what my father had already instilled in me. Right or wrong, a growing lust for my mother began to grow.

So, it was with no great surprise in the way she greeted me, Saturday morning. Dressed only in one of John's white dress shirts, she planted a full, lip-to-lip kiss on me, as a good-morning greeting.

"Coffee?" she asked, in a sultry way.

I nodded, and she moved to open a cupboard door, stretching for cups. Unaware, or uncaring, she made no effort at stopping the shirt from riding up, exposing the lower half of her firm, round ass cheeks, and her amazing camel toe.

"Ah... what's going on, mom?" I questioned, swallowing hard, feeling an erection start.

"What do you mean? Nothing, why?" she responded, setting the coffee cups down, turning to look my way.

~ 10 ~

"Well, the kiss for one thing, and how you're dressed for another," I replied, trying to obscure the lump in my boxers.

"Seriously, I'm not allowed to give my son a good-morning kiss?"

"I think you know what I mean... and the shirt?"

"Oh, this... I wore it to bed last night, and just didn't change out of it this morning. Why? Does it bother you?" she asked, looking at the hand covering my crotch.

Shaking my head, I cleared my throat, and went to join her at the kitchen counter. Then, at her side, the half-opened shirt offered a generous view of her left breast, and erect nipple, as she reached for the coffee pot. It was the last thing I needed.

"So, do you have any plans for today?" she asked, catching my stare. After pouring coffee, she closed off my view, and grinned.

"Ahh... no, not really. You?" I answered back, feeling embarrassed, and turned away.

"Nope, Alice called off our luncheon, so I'm free," she replied, turning towards the kitchen table.

The way she had responded, or perhaps the inflection in her voice, seemed like an invitation. Free could have meant any number of things. My erection was enough reason to leave the kitchen, and glancing back, I caught her watching me. Giving her a smile, I raised my cup, feeling that familiar pressure growing in my loins.

Near noon, I walked into the open door of the bathroom, finding my mother still there, standing at the vanity.

"Shit... sorry, the door was open, and I thought the bath was empty," I said, quickly turning my back to her.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm glad you're here, actually. Would you mind putting lotion on my back?" she asked, as her hand came around me, holding out a bottle of lotion. "John did this for me all the time," she added, as I took the bottle from her.

Rubbing in lotion would, ordinarily, have been a straight-forward job. However, when I turned around, she still had her bath towel wrapped around her, high under her armpits, and I was sure, tied off over her breasts.

Catching my confused look in the vanity mirror, she smiled.

"Oh, God... hang on."

~ 11 ~

In a simple, one-handed move, she undid the towel lap tie, and pulled the towel away from her body, quickly bringing it around to hold against her breasts.

"There, how's that?"

On the rise again, I swallowed hard, squirting lotion onto my palm, and began rubbing it in. At my touch, she leaned slightly towards the vanity, putting her bare ass scant inches from my hard shaft.

"God, you have no idea how much I've missed this," she sighed.

Staying silent, I went about working in the lotion, in small, ever widening circles. Reaching the small dimples of her lower back, just above the crack of her ass, my breathing turned shallow, and sweat began to run down my face. Beth noticed I'd stopped, and brought her head up to look at me in the mirror.

"Don't stop, you're doing so good," she purred out, and grinned.

What would she have said, if she knew I was rock hard, I wondered, squirting more lotion in my trembling hand. Starting at her dimples, I began anew. Moving lower, over the firm flesh of her buttocks. Now, nearly lying on the vanity, she moved her ass side to side, in harmony with my hand movements, and moaned.

"Umm, yes, John, work your fingers hard," she said, gripping the vanity edge.

Still silent, I closed my eyes, wishing I truly was the man she'd called out, as I worked her buttocks, getting painfully close to where those meaty mounds of flesh rounded down, to meet her legs. Lost in a lustful state, my fingers brushed across her swollen labia lips, making her gasp out loudly.

My eyes snapped open. Jerking my hands away, I ran for my room, as quickly as I could, hearing her call after me.

"No! Wait... wait, don't go!"

Slamming the door closed, I stood in the middle of my room, trying to catch my breath, as visions of her nudity permeated my mind. Just then, my father entered me, like a locomotive coupling to a railcar, and I physically rocked.

"Hey, wow, you're really taking the lead! How did it feel caressing that gorgeous body of hers?"

"Stop, I was just putting lotion on her..."

"Yeah, yeah, I saw what you were putting lotion on. Why did you run?"

~ 12 ~

"Seriously, why are you asking me that?"

"Well, for one thing, she's obviously ready, and that erection you're sporting makes me think you are too. I mean, come on, she called after you."

"No, dad, she was calling after you."

In my head, I heard John laugh.

"Yeah, hey, what's difference... you - me, it was wild, right? You're massaging her fine ass, getting all hard, and she's calling out after me."

"Dad, stop."

"No-can-do, amigo, my time is running out."

After his departure, I was on edge. His final comment left me feeling sad, as I wondered what he meant by his time running out. What came to mind, at once, was the thought that spirits may be able to return, but on a limited basis.

This was all madness, and I hoped that I would come out of it still sane. For the better part of the day, I racked my brain, trying to produce a logical reason for John's return, and his determination to get my mother back on the horse, as he put it. My frustrations turned into hysterical laughter, as I rubbed my face with my hands. Late in the day, I dropped down onto my bed, mentally exhausted, and fell asleep.

Chapter five

Sunday...

Waking up Sunday morning, I understood what had been eluding me. No longer upset by my father's visits, I had let him guide me where he would, Saturday night, and through the early Sunday morning hours. In my dream, I was looking through his eyes, although my vision was not always clear. I felt his elation, and then saw something sparkling. He was talking, but not to me, and it was business-like, in tone. The sparkle returned, and I then heard what sounded like a snap.

Whatever was going on faded. My next vision was of him entering our house. Seemingly, happy and pleased with himself, he hurried upstairs. I watched, as he stopped, his head turning side to side, searching, thinking, trying to decide.

Surprisingly, he took us into my room, and stopped again. He brought up a narrow, black box, tapping it on our palm, as we looked around. Finally, deciding, he guided us to the closet. On the upper shelf, behind clothing, in the far-right corner, the box was hidden away. The dream ended early Sunday morning.

~ 13 ~

Upon waking up, one word kept running through my mind - anniversary. It was becoming clear to me why my father may have returned, but I needed more proof. With that thought in mind, I went to my closet. Opening the door, I looked up at the shelf, slowly moving my gaze to the right. Nothing seemed out of place, and so there was only one thing left to do. I reached up, fished around, searching for what I hoped to find there.

I was rewarded, bringing not only the black box down, but an envelope, too. The envelope held a card - an anniversary card - made out to his wife, with the words, 'Your loving husband, forever and a day'.

Sighing, his words came back to me, and knowing that his day had passed two years ago, after he died, made me tear up. Opening the box, my eyes fell upon the anniversary gift, a diamond necklace.

"All right, sport, you found it," John said, inside my head.

"Damn, you have to stop doing that!" I spoke out loud, in a harsh tone.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Well, what do you think?"

"She's gonna flip... it's gorgeous. But why hide it in my room?" I replied, whispering this time.

"Not sure really. Our anniversary was a week away, and I wanted a place I felt she wouldn't go to snoop."

Holding up the necklace, I smiled.

"So, what, mom liked to snoop for gifts?"

"God yes... birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas - she was like a little kid."

"Okay, so now what? You want me to go and give it to her?" I questioned, replacing the necklace in the box.

"No."

"What...? What was guiding me to the gift all about then?"

"I'm just saying not now. Later, tonight when we go to her room."

My father left me to wonder, once again, but it didn't take long before I realized what he had in mind. I was certain that my father wanted to have the anniversary celebration, so cruelly denied him, and my mother, complete with sex.

~ 14 ~

Given my mother's interaction with me on Saturday, I was also certain my father was right. My mother may have been ready, but I wasn't entirely sure about myself. Truthfully, I was scared, and I sat on my bed, wondering how this would all play out. I'd never had intercourse; I was a virgin. Laughing at myself, I thought, just show up at her bedroom door, with an erection, holding out the necklace, stupid. Around eight, o'clock that night, I heard a light tapping on my door. My stomach rose and fell - it was starting.

"May I come in?" my mother's soft voice asked.

"Yeah, I'm just reading." I answered, lying.

Watching, my door partially opened, and she looked in, smiling. I lowered the book I'd grabbed, looking back at her.

"Hey... just want you to know I'm going to take a bath," she said.

"Okay, enjoy," I replied, watching her pause for a moment, as if she expected me to say something else.

"Thanks, I will," was her reply, but sounding disappointed.

My dad slid into me, just as my bedroom door closed. Oddly, I was getting used to the feeling.

"Well, the time is getting close. She's doing her Sunday bath to relax. If I'm right, we'll have an hour, perhaps more, before she's done. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"We need to set things up."

With that, he moved us out of bed, grabbing the card and jewelry box. Leaving my room, we headed for her room and strangely, I could feel his excitement, as if it were my own.

"Okay... first, we'll pull down the bedding, nice and neat, you know."

Watching, from my mental point of view, he moved us to do just that, making sure the bedding was folded twice over, and lying flat, like in a hotel. When we finished, we placed the jewelry box and card on the decorative, center pillow. After snapping our fingers, he rushed us out of the room.

~ 15 ~

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the garage. Beth and I always kept a bottle of Champagne in the spare refrigerator, and I hope there's still one there."

To his relief, we found a bottle, and grabbed it, heading for the kitchen. He was pulling out all the stops, grabbing an ice bucket for the Champagne. We returned to the bedroom with the bubbly on ice, and two champagne flutes, setting it all on the right-side nightstand.

Rubbing our hands together, he looked around.

Without saying anything, he took us to my mother's large dresser, pulling out a red, silk, scarf. The word ambiance came into my mind, when he draped the scarf over the left-side nightstand light, and turned it on. It was the only light in the room, creating a sexy, red glow. Satisfied, he returned us to my room.

"Almost done."

"Almost? What else is there?" I questioned.

"You - we have to get you ready... do you have anything that might be sexy to wear?"

Honestly, I was surprised at the question, and really had no answer.

"Come on, you must have something."

After a lengthy delay, I responded.

"Take us to my dresser. Look in the bottom drawer."

Picking up on my thoughts, he walked to the dresser, and pulled out the lower drawer.

"Now what?"

"Look for a pair of my track silkies, that's all I can think of," I told him.

Fishing around, my father found what I was referring to, and we held them up.

"Perfect, with no underwear... yes, perfect."

And so, his plan was coming together. Stripping me down, he got us into the silkies, and I had to admit, I did feel sexy. Obviously, during my track days, I'd never worn the garment without underwear, or an undergarment of some type. Now, standing there, feeling my penis hanging low and free, it felt exciting. He made our lips curl into a smile.

~ 16 ~

"Yeah, buddy! We get excited, and our dick is gonna snake out, giving Beth a surprise."

There was nothing to do then but wait. We were rewarded, as my mother cut her bath short. With the bedroom door opened slightly, we caught her walking by, heading for her room, wrapped in a bath towel. Silently, we exited our room, and moved towards hers. We were standing in her doorway, when she moved into the center of her room.

At first, she seemed oblivious to what we'd done, but it was only momentary. We watched as she stopped, bringing a hand to her face, looking around.

"What the hel...?" she started to say, when we moved up, placing our hands on her bare shoulders.

"It's all for you... for our anniversary, Beth," my father said a loud, for the first time, in a combination of our voices.

Beth slowly turned, wide eyed, and her mouth open.

"Oh my GOD! John... is it really you? Are you here... inside Bobby? I didn't believe him; I thought he was crazy."

"Yes."

He moved our hand to undo Beth's towel, and she stopped him.

"Wait... what are you... John, what about Bobby?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"Bobby's fine. He's tucked away, and won't remember anything," he said, lying.

She searched our eyes, deeply, before capitulating, lowering her hand that was stopping him. He moved us a half-step closer, and used two hands to undo the towel. She shivered, as the towel was pulled away. Leaning us in, we pressed our lips against hers, for a warm, tender kiss, as he tossed the towel aside.

Having seen my mother only partially nude, seeing her in totality sent a powerful message to my already stirring loins. The night was about to begin, and we were growing erect.

Placing our hand on her nude, tight belly, we moved around her, dragging our hand lightly over her body, as we went for the card. She turned, accepting the card, and looking between us, at what she held, a tear trickled down her cheek.

"John... why?"

"Like I said, anniversary. We never got to celebrate."

~ 17 ~

With shaking hands, she opened and read the card, tearing up even more. John reached out with our hands, for the jewelry box, held it up, and opened it for Beth.

"Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

A loud gasp escaped her mouth.

"Oh my God, John! How, when, where...?" she mumbled out, reaching for the necklace.

"I bought it a week before our anniversary, and stashed it in Bobby's closet. I know you Beth Ann," John answered, making Beth laugh.

We took the necklace from Beth's hands.

"Turn."

Turning, she reached to lift her long hair above her neck, allowing us to place the necklace on her. She turned back, with one hand over the necklace, and one covering her mouth. Removing the hand covering the necklace, she revealed how the lower part rested in the valley of her cleavage.

"It's exquisite, John, thank you."

The thank you came with her launching into our arms, and eagerly going for an open-mouthed kiss, searching hungrily with her tongue. Dad brought our hands to her bare back, slowly sliding them to her buttocks, as the kiss went on. Before it ended, our cockhead was appearing from the leg of our silky shorts, like a snake, just as he had said it would.

Pulling away, mom asked, "John, you're sure about Bobby?"

We nodded. Searching our eyes again, she bit on her lower lip, making up her mind. Finally, she dropped to her knees, pulling our silkies down as she did so. Freeing our rising cock, she gripped it, and slid her lips over our sensitive head glans.

"Shit, that feels so good, babe... but wait, slow down, please. We need to enjoy this, it's been so long in the making," we said, caressing her hair.

I was shocked. Really? I was being held captive by my father, while the sexiest woman I'd ever known, his wife, was being held off from performing my first blow job - well his, I guess. Dad had been right, mom was ready - more than ready, judging by her eagerness. I might have been in the mental background, but the effects of her sucking had a very real, in the moment, effect on my body.

"Umm, John, you're leaking already," she said, rising.

~ 18 ~

"Thinking about it too much... let's have a drink," dad said, assisting her up.

I watched us share Champagne, it was another new experience, and I hoped dear ol' dad wouldn't take it too far. Having never had alcohol, I felt the effects almost at once, well at least the bubbles.

Feeling like I was the voyeur next door, I watched dad and mom lovingly dance in a sexual foreplay. Laughing, kissing, touching, caressing, and yes, as their excitement grew, so did mine. I'd watched porn videos before; I'd stroked my hard cock, masturbating to the erotic scenes, even though I knew they weren't real, but none of that prepared me for what was coming.

No matter what my thoughts might have been to the contrary, my mother's return to our erection was real. I wasn't a voyeur peering through a window, I was a captive in my own mind watching the erotic scene unfolding. I allowed the sounds of her slurping, sucking, and gagging, flow through me. It was only when she stopped that I re-engaged the visual aspect of the love making.

We were lying on the bed, and mom moved to straddle our hips, capturing our penis in the wet slit of her bare labia. I'd seen this movie before. Dad, using our hands on her hips, helped her slide back and forth, as we watched her labia slit swallow our sensitive cock, only to push it back out seconds later.

How I was lasting, against her sexual grinding, amazed me. Dad was controlling that, too, I was sure of it. A look came across mom's face, and she stopped. Lifting her hips, she reached between her legs, gripping our hard shaft, to guide it into her vagina. Settling down, impaling herself, she let out a loud gasp.

"Oh God, holy shit, John!"

She was back on the horse, and about to ride. My father intended to make it a wild one, as his final act.

As a virgin, the feeling of being inside a woman for the first time was incredible. I had no sense of fear, as I might have had, had it been a peer I was engaged in sex with. Instead, I felt the love, confidence, and raw sexual urgency of my father, making love to his wife.

Riding us like a wild woman, we added to her joy, lifting her enough to thrust our hips, pounding her pussy like it would be our last act. The truth being... it was his.

With gyrating breasts, Beth's eyes went wide, when we exploded inside her. The joys of masturbating didn't hold a candle to what I felt. My father used my youth to his advantage, cumming multiple times. Mom clinched our chest, screamed, and climaxed, on our third ejaculation. Her ride was out of control, humping our cock in wild abandon, just as my father wanted.

~ 19 ~

Exhausted, she collapsed on our chest. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. I'd heard of women controlling their vaginal muscles, but maybe it was just the final throbbing of our penis, as we slowly came down from the incredible orgasm. Lifting her head, she slid just up enough to surrender her lips for a final, well deserved, kiss. I wanted to scream out my joy over the experience, but remained silent. As she rested on top of us, our penis went flaccid, and she expelled us, letting out a satisfied groan.

It was at that point, I thought I heard dad. Waiting, I felt certain he'd said something, but as I regained control of my body, it occurred to me it was just him slipping away. With him in control, I had no worries. Right then, my mind raced. Feeling certain I should leave, I did my best to gently extricate myself from under my mother's body. I failed. Just as she slid off to the side, she woke up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, dreamily, putting her arm across me.

Knowing she knew my father had been inside me, I decided to make it clear he was gone.

"Mom... he's gone, mom," I whispered.

"Umm, I know. He told me goodbye, but you don't have to go," she answered, drawing herself tightly against my body.

"What...? You want me to stay!?"

I can't explain the exhilaration I felt the next morning. I knew my father had moved on to his greater reward, and yet, I felt some part of him remained. With that thought, I went to relieve myself, trying to get a grip on the idea formulating in my mind. Like the apparition, the idea seemed to fade in and out, never quite gelling, that is until I entered the kitchen.

My mother stood at the kitchen sink, humming softly herself, as she went about preparing breakfast. Standing in the doorway, I watched her in silence. Wearing only a sheer slip, her buttocks, plainly visible, wiggled and bounced to her movements. The idea I had struggled with became crystal clear, and I shed my boxers. Moving towards her, my cock grew rapidly, along with an urgency.

Still unaware of my presence, I moved up behind her, quickly lifting her slip, and pressing my erection between the cheeks of her ass. She stiffened, grabbing the kitchen counter, and let out a loud gasp.

"Oh my God - John! I thought you were gone," she exclaimed.

"He is mom," I answered back, in a whisper.

~ 20 ~

"Bobby? Bobby, but how did you know..."

Her question ended, incomplete, when I moved to push my hard shaft between her legs. Placing my hands on her hips, I felt her body quiver, as she spread her legs to welcome my intrusion. In a position she knew all too well, my mother reached between her legs, guiding me into her vagina. Fully bent over the sink, she gripped the spigot with both hands, waiting for what she knew would be next.

Somehow, my father had imprinted a playbook of sexual experiences in my memory. My mother, already aware, began moving her hips up and down, and side to side, working my cock inside her. Following her lead was easy, I knew exactly what to do. The difference for her was the fact I was the younger version of my father.

"Holy shit... your father loved surprising me in the mornings, but he never did me like that!" she gasped out, turning to face me.

Finally catching her breath, she asked a question, "Oh my God, did he tell you everything about our sex life!?"

"Everything," I repeated, and offered a knowing grin...

Authors Note

My return to Literotica did not come without some trepidation. Truth be known, more than twenty years have passed since I first delved into writing on this site. I went about it blindly, with only a basic desire, and a few ideas in my head.

This time around, I've elected to use a proofreader, and wisely so. I would like to thank Kenji Sato, for all his efforts and guidance. AWR74