It's All Relative Ch. 14

This is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences aged 18 and older. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All characters engaging in sexual activities are depicted as consenting adults over the age of 18. By reading this work, you acknowledge that you are of legal age in your jurisdiction to consume explicit content and that you are choosing to proceed at your own discretion.

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Part 14 -- Still Joined

Days passed quietly for Matt and he was thankful. He needed some time just with his mother.

They'd fallen in to a routine come bed time and had become quite comfortable with the new dynamic of their relationship. They were acting more like a married couple than mother and son. They had sex but it was almost casual, unrushed, mutually pleasing and fulfilling with a lack of performance pressure.

Finally, the day came and she was due to leave tomorrow at noon. He knew he wouldn't see her again for, well, he wasn't sure how long. So, he spent the day helping her get her things together. She wound up having to get more suitcases after all the crap she'd purchased.

He took her out to a nice supper, and then they went and lay down to binge watch some Big Bang Theory.

Joyce glanced at the clock on the RV's nightstand, it was 9:45 p. m. The day had slipped away in a flurry. Her flight was tomorrow at noon, a quick helicopter hop to Minneapolis before catching up with The World in some distant port.

Matt was in the bathroom, the sound of water running as he brushed his teeth. She slipped into her own routine, grabbing her nightgown from the drawer he'd cleared for her.

Matt emerged a minute later, "Your turn," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Joyce nodded, stepping past him into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind her.

In the mirror Matt caught her shedding her clothes and then her naked form as she got into the shower and just smiled to himself. He loved her more than ever.

The hot water was a relief, washing away the day's stickiness from the humid air. She washed her hair, lathered up her body, rinsed, and stepped out to dry off. Grabbing her cotton nighgown, she slipped her arms into it before raising them up and letting it fall around her. No bra, no panties, just the gown and padded back to the bed.

Matt was already propped up against the headboard with his phone, scrolling through something. He'd slipped into his pajama shorts, light blue ones that hung loose on his hips, the sheet pulled up to his waist, bedside lamp casting a warm glow. "All set?" he asked, setting the phone aside.

Joyce nodded and said, "Yup" as she slid into bed next to him, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. The bed was spacious, but with both of them laying on it, the space felt intimate. She turned off her lamp, "Good night, sweetie."

"Good night, Mom" Matt leaned over, kissing her cheek lightly, a quick peck, the same as always. It was warm, familiar, no different from any other night they'd shared a space. He rolled onto his side, facing away, and Joyce did the same, turning to her right, pulling the sheet up to her shoulder.

The RV was quiet. Joyce stared at the wall, her mind drifting to what had happened since she'd begun her visit. It had been good to see him to see family, to reconnect, but the goodbye, like all goodbyes, felt ominous and heavy. She sighed softly, shifting a little, trying to get comfortable.

Matt lay there, eyes open in the dark, listening to her breathe. The reality of her leaving tomorrow hit him harder than he'd expected. In the past their separations had not felt quite this foreboding, there was an odd pit in his stomach. He knew it'd be months, maybe longer, before he'd see her again. The thought twisted something in his chest, a mix of affection and ache. Without thinking, he rolled over toward her, spooning up behind her and draping his left arm over her waist holding her tight for a moment before drifting to a loose hug. "Night," he murmured as he nuzzled her neck, his voice low, just wanting the comfort of holding her one more time before she was gone.

Joyce felt the warmth of his arm settle over her, his chest pressing against her back. It was innocent, familiar, like when he was little and needed reassurance. But she felt something else: the press against her ass cheeks, through the thin fabric of her gown and his shorts. It wasn't intentional, she knew that, but the contact sent a spark through her.

From Matt's side, the hug was meant to be comforting, a simple goodnight embrace. But as his body molded to hers, the warmth of her skin felt comforting. His cock, already half-hard from the day's lingering thoughts, stiffened fully against her. He thought nothing more of it and relaxed. The closeness felt right, natural.

She smiled to herself and pressed back slightly. But the movement only made him harder, she felt a twitch against her. "Matt..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, not sure if it was a question or an invitation.

Matt heard the whisper, felt her shift back into him, and his restraint cracked. His hand on her waist drifted higher until he cupped her left breast over the nightgown.

It was a gentle hold, no squeezing, just the warmth of his hand through the thin cotton and the light pressure of his thumb resting on her nipple.

She didn't speak. She didn't pull away. Instead, she let her body answer for her, pressing back a fraction more, feeling the hard length of him settle more firmly along the cleft of her ass.

Matt felt the shift, the subtle invitation, and his own breath caught. He kept his touch light, thumb brushing once, barely, across the nipple that had already tightened under the fabric. Joyce's hand came up, not to stop him, but to cover his, holding it there as if to keep the moment from slipping away.

After savoring the feeling for a long time, Joyce turned in his arms, facing him. The dim light from the hallway caught the soft gray of her hair and the quiet intensity in her eyes. No words. She simply leaned in and kissed him, not a quick good-night peck, but a real kiss, lips parted, slow and deliberate. Matt answered immediately, his mouth opening to hers, tongue brushing hers in a gentle, searching dance.

The kiss deepened gradually, unhurried. Joyce's hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, while Matt's palm drifted from her breast to the curve of her waist and then her lower back, pulling her closer. Their bodies aligned, her thigh raised up over his, his thigh slipping between hers, her heat pressing against him.

Joyce broke the kiss only to breathe, forehead resting against his. She could feel him hard against her belly now.

He grasped her and rolled away, pulling her on top of him, her weight heavy, breasts pressed hard to him, her thighs fell open around him. He kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands finding her ass, grasping it firmly, they kissed like the lovers they now were.

The same thoughts of separation had filled her mind only a few moments earlier. She wanted to do something special before she left.

She broke the kiss and sat up on him, his cock pressing firmly against her. Looking down at him she gathered up her nightgown and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it aside. Leaning forward she kissed him gently on the shoulder.

Matt gazed up at her when she pulled the nightgown off. He'd been blessed with her. As she leaned over him his hands found her now hanging breasts as her lips found his shoulder.

Joyce kissed her way to his nipples, tongue swirled around them, a light gentle sucking.

Her tongue was delicious on him.

But then she did the unexpected, her hips shifted down onto his thighs and her lips kissed lower.

Matt's mind lurched in realization of what she might be doing. His heart hammered.

His mother's hips and legs moved again, her knees were inside his, her tongue trailing a wet path to his bellybutton

She lingered at the line where his shorts sat low on his hips.

In truth, she hesitated, her mind registered what she was about to do. Another taboo line being crossed. She pulled the waistband down.

Joyce was full of anticipation to be as close to his cock as any woman could be to a cock. The band slid down slowly exposing the head. She let her tongue touch just below the head as her hands continued sliding the band down.

A realization flashed through his mind, not a conscious thought, just a knowing that his mother was about to take him into her mouth.

As the band went down, his cock was more free. It rose up as the restraint of the underwear disappeared. She let her tongue slide down it toward the base as more and more of the shaft was exposed. The band settled around his hips, the shaft, now released, pointed up at about a 45 degree angle.

She sat back a bit and grasped the base of the shaft with her left hand, while letting the fingers of her right hand trace up and down it. She knew he was thick. Her fingers confirmed it, and the head filled her mouth more than she had allowed for.

Matt saw her head move down and she kissed the head softly, once, then again before her lips parted to take him in. Warm, wet, slow. Her tongue swirled around the crown before she slid down, taking half his length, raising up to the head and then down a bit more, until he touched the back of her throat. She held him there, humming softly, the vibration making him groan low in his chest.

Matt's hand found her hair, not guiding, fingers threading through it as she worked him with steady, loving strokes of her mouth. The sensations, her tongue, wet, the heat, so amazing, so wrong.

"I'm never going to forget this," he thought. It was something which should never happen between a son and his mother. But here they were. It wasn't guilt. It was something that had started to feel perfectly natural between them.

Ordinarily Joyce would look up at the man as she was pleasuring him. Watching it hit a man's face was half the pleasure. With Matt she kept her eyes down. If she looked up, she would see her son, and she didn't know if that would finish her or stop her.

She focused on him. Her sliding him in and out of her mouth began slowly, then increased in speed. She began to lose herself in it, head twisting, tongue swirling, up and down, her right hand sliding up and down with her mouth as the left kept him pointed up.

"Christ," he thought, "she's really getting into this." His hand stayed in her hair as her head went up and down. He didn't push.

Then he said it low, unintentional, almost not a word at all, more a single word prayer, "Mom."

The word broke her intensity and focus on his cock, she froze, holding him deep in her mouth before raising up on him until only the head was in her mouth. Her eyes drawn to the voice.

Matt was looking right at her. Not at what she was doing, he was looking into her eyes. Joyce felt the jolt of it, mother and this, both at once, she did not look away. Keeping her eyes locked on his she opened her mouth and slid her tongue around the crown before gripping it in her lips. She pulled his cock down more and slowly took it into her mouth again, her eyes on his.

His stomach jumped under her hand, inch after inch slipped into her mouth, "Jesus, Mom."

She hummed again, and this time she let him see her do it.

He felt the build, the tightening in his balls, but she sensed it too. He was at the point where his mind usually stopped thinking. His hands stayed loose in her hair.

"Mom, I'm gonna cum."

Joyce came up until only the head was in her mouth. She wanted room. If she stayed down, she would lose half of it around her lips. She wanted it all. Her right hand stroked the shaft, her left remained at his balls, which were already tight against him. She cupped them and pulled them down, gentle, her fingers pressed in behind.

Matt's stomach jumped, "Mom."

Her eyes locked onto his. This was the part she had always loved, a man's face when it hit him, pain and pleasure at once. It had always gone straight through her. Lips firmly gripping the head of his cock, tongue teasing the tip, right hand working, left keeping his balls from climbing. They jerked in her hand and tried to pull up.

She felt the head swell against her tongue and the first jet hit. She swallowed. His face did what she had been watching for, what she always watched for during sex, and it almost took her breath away. The combination of his face expressing his pain and pleasure and the gush into her mouth caused her thighs to clench spasmodically, she flooded, but this got her nothing, both hands already busy. She was close but not over the edge herself. The second spurt filled her mouth, followed by more. A little escaped at the corner of her lip, but she did not slide down. She sucked at the head and kept stroking, milking him, taking what he gave her.

Matt groaned through his teeth. His hips tried to lift and he held them there, ass cheeks clenched as he erupted. His hand in her hair never closed. He watched his mother, lips around the head, both hands on him, her eyes looking back at him.

When it eased, she drew up slow, lips tight, and let him slip out. A thin string broke against her chin. She sat up, licking her lips before running her tongue around inside her mouth and swallowing again. His cum sat warm in her belly, her throat still coated.

"Jesus, Mom," he said. "You didn't have to..."

Joyce touched the corner of her mouth, "I heard you," she said gently. She felt him looking, this felt different.

It wasn't the way he looked at her in the shower or when she was dressing. The situation was different, the context more intimate, openly sexual. His eyes went from her mouth to her breasts, before drifting further to the tops of her thighs and her bush.

"She really is beautiful," he thought, "Fuck I'm lucky."

His eyes went back to hers and his hands raised, fingers beckoning her to him. Joyce held his eyes a second, then moved up, spreading and walking her knees around his hips before leaning over him on her arms.

His hands found her breasts, gently caressing before lightly rolling the nipples.

She lay down onto his chest; her breasts pressed tightly between them.

Their lips met, the kiss began slowly, one they already knew, there was a slight tang to her lips. As their kiss continued, it grew more passionate, his hands moved over her back, then down to her ass where each hand took an ass cheek and squeezed, pulling them apart.

They kissed, shifted and kissed again. Neither of them hurried.

After a while he grasped her hips and pulled her up as he slid down a tad, far enough to put her tits at his mouth. Her knees next to his waist, hands on the headboard.

He felt the heat of her womanhood slide onto his belly. Matt took her tits in his hands and held them, licking one nipple, then the other, sucking, going back. He stayed at it.

Joyce felt it go straight through her. Each pull of his mouth on a nipple landed between her legs, a tug, then a throb. She got wetter. She put her right arm around his head and pulled him to her, watching his mouth on her.

His hands left her tits and he slipped his arms under her thighs and grasped her ass cheeks before he started to pull her up as he shimmied down.

Joyce's breath quickened, she knew where he wanted her and that this was inevitable, "He's going to... oh God," she thought, a flush of heat spreading through her before a sudden wave of self-consciousness hit. She'd been told she had a large clit, her sisters had teased her about it and her husband had made her feel ashamed for it. The feeling had stuck with her for decades, a quiet shame she had buried. It was not so bad with lovers.

But with her son, "Wait... don't," she said, meek, and half-hearted as she moved over him under his guidance.

Matt paused, bewildered, looking up at her from between her breasts. Nipples erect, areola tight, her face hot. He kissed the inside of her thigh before saying, "You're perfect the way you are," placing a kiss higher and higher on her thigh between each word. He held her gaze, "I want to love every part of you, just the way you are."

Joyce's heart stuttered. Tears pricked her eyes, not from the embarrassment now, from the tenderness. She nodded meekly. She still expected him to react, to hesitate, once he really saw. She put her hands on the headboard and adjusted her knees outside his shoulders. His hands guided her until she was settled comfortably over his face, calves across his arms, the tops of her feet on his chest. She stopped. She did not lower herself. She turned her face a little, waiting.

Matt did, in fact, notice her clit, it was bigger than any woman he'd been with, like a ripe pointy grape, visibly throbbing when he breathed on it. He wanted his mouth on it.

He kissed the inside of her right thigh, tongue pressing, then dragged it up above her clit, and did the same on the left. His first lick barely touched her, just enough to slide between her lips and flick the tip. Then slow, long flat licks from her entrance to the tip, tangy, warm. Her hips twitched. He smiled against her.

Joyce made a small sound. "The final intimacy," she thought, and right after, "God that feels nice." She was still holding herself up, still waiting for the look that meant he minded. But it never came.

His mouth was not doing it the way previous men with her had done. No rush at her clit, no hard point of tongue. Flat licks, patient, almost the delicate, knee buckling way Sheila ate her. She had not expected that from her son.

He laid his tongue flat over the nub and held it there, then sucked it fully into his mouth, lips sealed around it. Inside the seal his tongue moved slow, under the tip more than on it, no flicking rush. Joyce gasped. The size made it easy to feel every bit of it. Her arms loosened and she sank onto him. His mouth had her. Nose in her bush. She did not look away.

He lapped slowly, tongue pushed out, slipping between her lips before he drew it smoothly sliding over her clit, she was increasingly wet before he slipped two fingers inside her, curling them, pumping slow, while maintaining the slow licking. Her clit grew between his lips.

Feeling the penetration, her walls clenched, tears slipping as her anxiety passed and the sensations built causing her to move her hips more. His mouth on her was electric, every suck sending a deep surge, the gentle but growing pressure of his finger tips on the roof of her pussy sending a wave of heat through her.

Joyce let her head rest on her arms, looking down the top of his head as he pleasured her. She clutched the headboard, her hips moving sliding up and down his face a little, growing the longer he licked. It came quickly, "Matt... oh, sweetie," she managed to gasp as the orgasm hit, rolling out from her clit, her pussy spasming around his fingers, thighs quivering. Tears, not from shame now. Release.

Matt felt the urgency of her hips moving, the tensing of her thighs, then she began to jerk as she orgasmed hard, her clit pulsing on his tongue, muscles grasping and pulling at his fingers, a sudden gush of fluid on his hand.

"Oh, my God, Matt... sweet Jesus..." That was only encouragement as he sucked through the aftershocks. Every pull with his lips made her jerk. His fingers slipped from her and he replaced them with his tongue, driving it deeply inside, drinking up the juices which flowed onto his tongue. He kept licking and sucking.

She settled heavily onto him, her head hanging on her outstretched arms, hands grasping the headboard the only thing keeping her from falling over, panting as the final spasms faded.

She distantly felt the bed move under his weight. Then his hands were on her hips and he was pulling her back, off her knees, on to her ass before turning her. Joyce let him. She liked being handled, not having to decide the next thing, it felt nice. She smiled as he moved her. He wanted her somewhere and he was putting her there.

Matt lay her back on the mattress and slid off the bed. Quickly slipping off his underwear before standing at the edge and pulling her by the ankles until her ass was at the very edge of the bed and he stood between her legs. Grasping her by the ankles, he placed the soles of her feet on the sides of his belly, her legs bent toward her shoulders, knees spread wide.

Joyce looked up at him, a little startled at how folded and exposed she was, but did not close her legs.

Stepping close, he lay his cock on her mound between her thighs and pressed against her, cock sliding over her clit and into her bush.

He grasped her knees and looked down at her.

The old flush tried to come. It didn't get far. He had already had his mouth there.

Moving his hips back, he grasped his cock, set the head firmly at her entrance and pushed as he moved his hands to her knees. She felt herself spread around him, slow, the stretch before the head slipped in and her lips gripped around the shaft. Unlike their first time, he didn't wait for her to adjust to him, he kept going, deeper, until his hips met her, his balls on her ass. Full. Her arms went wide, stretched across the bed as if as an angel, hands clutching the sheets.

Matt held there a moment, him buried deep inside his mother, their pubic hair mingling, then stroked. Slow. Deep. Out until the head tugged at those lips, back in until his balls met ass, began to stroke. Releasing her left knee his hand settled flat on her mound, thumb on her clit, moving with each stroke. Joyce felt every bit of him, the thickness, the drag on the way out, the fill on the way in, his thumb keeping time. Her feet pressed on his chest. She didn't rush him; his pace was like a delicious metronome.

"Matt," she said as her breath got short. Her thighs tightened, his thumb making just the right contact, and it built before taking her, a clench and a shake, her hands pulling at the sheets, she didn't scream, she went quiet and came, pulsing on him.

As Joyce orgasmed, Matt shifted her. He did not pull out. He moved her right foot between his legs and pushed her left knee to her right; her hips rolled with it but her shoulders stayed flat on the bed, still gripping the sheets as she suffered the waves of pleasure. He positioned her left knee even with her hips, the back of her foot hooked on his left hip and moved his right hand to the exposed bottom her left ass cheek and pressed up, lifting her cheek and exposing even more of her.

His balls settled on the inside of her right thigh and he began to stroke again; every stroke dragged them across the skin.

She didn't' as much noticed her physical change as the change in his penetration, the angle had changed. He was no longer, but the new angle allowed him to put as much of his cock into her as physically possible, her lips were at his root.

Joyce felt it as a fullness more than a thrust. Thickness, then pressure, then the drag of his balls on her thigh as he drew back.

"Oh," she said and opened her eyes, the orgasm had only lessened, not faded. Matt's eyes were closed as he started in again. His mouth was open, jaw set, pleasure, and the work of it. He'd begun to sweat, light droplets had started on his chest and at his throat, breathing through his teeth, and every deep push showed in his face.

She had not been fucked like this, she loved it. Each jolt of his bottoming out sent a jolt through her clit, just the press of him.

Matt opened his eyes, he wanted to see her face. What he saw was much more. Each impact drove her tits up, nipples still tight, chest still flushed. He kept the pace steady. Deep, seated, a grind, then back until her lips clung to the head, then in again. Wet. He lost himself in it, the wet sound of it was soft and constant.

Joyce settled under it. The orgasm she had just had did not quite leave. It sat there, a near thing, tightening when he bottomed out and easing when he drew back, never tipping over. Her breath stayed short. Her hands fisted in the sheet. She was close and she stayed close, flushed, wet around him, taking the deep ones and not cuming.

Matt felt her gripping and not finishing. He did not speed up. He fucked her like that for a while, deep and even, balls dragging on her thigh, until he was ready to move her again.

Matt was tiring. The deep angle was good and it was work, sweat on his chest, his breath coming harder, and he wanted her closer than this, he wanted her in his arms.

He eased out and moved her up the bed a bit before getting onto the bed himself, moving to and sitting up with his back against the headboard, legs straight out.

He pulled her with him, Joyce raised up on her knees and knee walked her knees next to his hips, feet back against his thighs. Their faces were inches apart, putting her hands on his shoulders she raised up a little, her right hand found him and guided him into her as she settled her weight on to him. Chest to chest. She sank until she had all of him again, and stayed there.

Joyce's arms went around his neck and their lips met. She did not bounce. She ground, sliding forward and back on him, a slow drag, his cock seated deep the whole time. Matt's hands moved on her ass, helping the slide, then her waist, then up to her tits. He stayed with those, lifting them to his lips to suck, lick and kiss. During one particularly pleasurable moment, he found himself suck a large part of her left breast into his mouth. Their kiss began gently, but the more she moved the more passionate it became, she kissed him harder. Their tongues dueling and swirling around before she latched onto his and began to suck on it.

It built in both of them without either of them speeding up. Her ample lubrication kept them moving almost effortlessly. Joyce savored the deep penetration and the incessant friction on her clit with every slide. His hands were never still, finding her tits before moving to her hips, then ass to help her move, he wanted his hands everywhere.

Their passion became almost desperate and the near-orgasm she had been riding finally tipped. She groaned into him and clenched, grinding down, not pulling her mouth away.

He went with her. A groan into her mouth, spasms pulsed his balls as he came inside her.

A mutual whimper escaped their locked lips.

They kept the kiss. Breathing turned into gasps against each other's mouths, her arms tight on his neck, his hands back on her ass, holding her down on him until it passed.

They stayed like that. Joined. Mouths still touching. Neither of them in a hurry to move.

Over many minutes, their kiss broke. Joyce let her head fall onto Matt's shoulder where she stayed. Matt was in no hurry to end it. His cock was still inside her but he could feel it shrinking, the inevitable result after an orgasm.

Finally, Joyce's practicality reemerged and she reached for a towel she knew was always inside one of the headboard cabinets. She pressed it between her legs from behind her as she slipped off him, catching most of the evidence of their love making.

Matt moved one hand to her ass and the other stayed clutched to her shoulder, she lifted up and off before heading to the bathroom to clean up. He followed her, their passion sated.

The little giggle of her ass and the bit of towel sticking out from between her thighs made him smile.

Matt got a wash cloth and cleaned himself up as she sat on the toilet. He caught her looking at the mess on the towel, their combined cum.

"That's a mess, here..." he said and took it from her.

She watched him lean over and toss the towel into the hamper saying, "You sure made a mess."

He stood next to the sink again and, as he rinsed and warmed the washcloth, replied, "Well, in all fairness, that was our mess, you contributed a lot of that yourself you know," smiling a little teasing smile.

He handed her the washcloth, she wiped herself, tossed the washcloth into the sink and stood up, moving close, breasts again pressed to his chest.

"You, young man, know how to please a woman," she kissed him lightly before straightening the covers on the bed and slipping, naked, back into it.

Matt spooned up behind her and kissed her shoulder, "Good night Mom."

She hid that her eyes filled a bit, "Good night sweetie."

He was up at 6 am and completed his run before she'd even gotten out of bed. Matt showered as Joyce woke and began stripping the bed. Her sense of practicality again, the sheets would need washing

He stepped out and was drying off smiling as she crawled, naked, over the bed and around it gathering sheets and pillow cases for the laundry. Sure enough, she didn't just let them lay. She put them in and started a load.

Matt got out of the bathroom to give her more room to take a shower and get ready. He stood naked looking at a drawer full of shirts trying to decide...

Suddenly he heard, "Matthew Michael!"

Whenever he heard his middle name come out of his mother's mouth, he knew that was mom talk for "YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE!"

He turned, "What?"

"Come look what you did!" she said exasperatedly.

Matt went to the bathroom and looked at her, "Ohhhh... you sure I did that?" he said innocently.

She looked at him like he was an idiot. On Joyce's neck was a large purple silver dollar sized hickey. The kind you get from amorous teenagers, not from adults... she began to apply coverup...

and more coverup.

"Well, at least we had fun doing it," he said.

He got a face full of powder, "Ya, maybe, but now I have to hide it, God people will talk." She worked feverishlyt to cover it up.

He decided to push it, "What do you mean by MAYBE." He stepped behind her and wrapped his hands around her to settle on her belly, "I didn't hear any complaints at the time," and kissed her neck. Smiling to himself he slipped on his robe and went to make her a special breakfast of crepes, she loved crepes. Something light for a long travel day.

She finally decided the only real alternative was a high-necked sweater she had. That would cover it for certain. She slipped on a bra and over that a large soft spun knit woolen sweater which hung to just the tops of her thighs. Glancing in the mirror she was satisfied the evidence of their lovemaking was suitably hidden

"Breakfast is ready," he called out.

Matt was leaning on the counter when she came out. He looked up. "God damn," he thought, "fucking gorgeous." The sweater only just came to the tops of her thighs, she was barefoot, and oozing sexy with each step. He had a sudden pang to ask her to stay, and resisted it.

"You're going to cause your pilot to wreck dressed like that," he said.

Joyce saw where he was looking and smiled, "It's a sweater, Matt."

"It's barely a sweater."

She stepped in and hugged him. He pulled her the rest of the way, a light kiss, and his hands found her ass under the hem. Skin. No panties.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "and no panties, you shameless hussy," he held her there a second, then started to lift the sweater.

Joyce could feel his hardness on her belly, she pushed away, "We don't have time," she said, and, still smiling, wiggled out of his hands before he could turn her toward the bedroom.

He watched her sit and noted that she didn't say no, only that there wasn't time, although he was sure they could make the time, he didn't push it.

"Joyce."

"Mom," she corrected him before adding, "eat your breakfast, after last night I think you need to recharge some batteries" and taking a sip of coffee.

He stayed against the counter, robe tented and a bit dejected, but not really. She'd won and he knew it, "Still Mom," he told himself.

They finished breakfast without much talk. Joyce went back and pulled on a pair of soft travel pants under the sweater. She checked the neck line in the mirror once and left it.

Matt dressed and started on the bags. Five of them now, big ones, all the crap she'd bought. He got them into the car in two trips three in the boot and two in the back seat.

Dorothy and John came across from the office, as they were hugging Joyce and saying how much they'll miss her, Brittany came out of her Winnebago.

Matt stood back and watched. He knew Joyce had been the one to introduce Brittany to the joys of lesbian sex and Brittany's girlfriend, Kelsey knew it. Matt watched, maybe a bit too closely as she hugged Joyce. They hugged a bit longer and close than others, Brittany said she loved her and not to stay gone so long this time. She had been followed closely by Kelsey, who did not hug Joyce but rather stood next to Matt close enough that her arm brushed his. He felt some tension in her and felt like she needed her hand held at the moment, but didn't take it. Way too much baggage around for that.

Joyce saw it out of the corner of her eye. Kelsey had Brittany and Kelsey was standing with her son. A small jealous thing, she let it go. She had a helicopter to make.

"Ready?" he said.

"Ready."

He shut the door behind her as she waved at everyone. Just as he sat down he heard under her breath, "Bitch."

"Huh?" he said.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, "nothing at all," she reached over and grasped his right thigh repeating, "nothing at all."

They were mostly silent driving to the airport. There were tears of course, their relationship had changed dramatically during her short stay.

He sighed as her chartered helo took off and headed for Minneapolis-St Paul airport.

It was a sad quiet drive back home.