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WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING

The content of this material is of an adult nature. It is intended to be
viewed by adults of legal age only.
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Carla
by Alcimedes
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Prologue:

I awoke in a sweat, my mind adrift in that blurry space between reality and
dream. Everything had seemed so real, too real to be just a dream, and yet
surreal enough to know it had been a dream. It was then  that it dawned on
me that it was at least partially real, I had really cum. Not, however,
inside of the faceless woman of my dream, but in my underwear as I slept.
IÕd had my first wet dream.

I suppose that for most normal pre-teen or teenage boys that would have been
a normal occurrence, an ordinary event in their lives; a sign of normal
maturation that would set them out on a course of  teenage angst and sexual
curiosity. But for me it would be different, as far from normal as possibly
could be. The event would turn out to be just the starting point of what
would become my Oedipean tale.  You see, it was not that it happened, but
where and when it happened that would unalterably shape my young life.

Chapter One: Genesis

It was a warm Tuesday morning of early September as my mother set out to
visit her sister in Oregon. Actually it was more than just to visit, we were
moving. I was a mere 12 years old at the time, still just a  boy really, but
eagerly wanting to be older. It had been nearly three long years since the
death of my father, and now we were leaving our home in Florida to set out
in search of a new life. It was difficult to  say good bye to the only place
IÕd ever known, and in a sense it was like saying good bye to my childhood.
I had lost alot of my childhood innocence after my father died, becoming the
man of the house or  at least seeing myself as such, and leaving that place
merely solidified in my own mind that I was a man now.

After my father's passing, heÕd left enough for us to survive on but little
else. It wasn't any fault of his own, he was a good man and a good father; a
hard working man who'd had little of his own when he and  my mother met. But
for as hard as heÕd worked, it was only a matter of time before the money
heÕd left us ran out and Mom wasn't able to support us on her own. Having
nowhere to turn, Mom took her sister's  offer to come to Oregon and stay for
a while, a chance for a new life.

So there we were, Mom and I, on the road to the Pacific coast in our old
pickup truck; camper on the back, packed with our belongings and enough
money for gas to make Oregon. Or so we thought. Mom  made good time the
first day out, getting us nearly through Alabama when we encountered our
first obstacle. Speeding along the highway to the  rhythmic sound of the
concrete gaps, the truck began to  sputter, finally coming to rest in a
cloud of steam and smoke, just as weÕd pulled off of the highway into a
small little town; coming to rest about a mile from the local service
station. After a short walk into  town and having the truck towed,  I
listened intently as the local mechanic describe to my mother of our broken
water pump, and how much it would cost to fix.

What I remember most, however, was the look of despair on my mother's face
as the mechanic spoke. After spending the remainder of the day walking
around the sleepy little town and waiting for the truck to  be fixed, Mom
not wanting to talk much, we were back on the road once again. She left late
at night, maybe more to find herself out of the bad luck of the place than
anything, but it wasn't long before the  stress of the day took itÕs toll;
forcing her to pull of into a rest area for the night.

I had fallen asleep during the night ride, my head resting upon my mother's
shoulder as she drove. She gently woke me, telling me that we would stop for
the rest of the night; sleeping in the cramped, box  filled camper. My
mother had planned, or hoped, for a smooth trip but with the truck breaking
down so soon in the drive, she worried about having enough money should
anything else happen. I believe she  had planned on us staying in a motel or
two along the way but now it would be the camper. I groggily helped her move
some of the boxes around inside of the camper so that we could convert the
dinette  into a makeshift bed. It was small, but suprisingly comfortable as
I remember. I was still very tired and crawled into the new bed as soon as
it was ready, closing my eyes heavily and wanting to fall  immediately back
to sleep.

Mom turned off the overhead light, darkening the camper except for the glow
of the rest area lights as they lit the windows curtain, casting a soft
orange glow into the camper.

As I lay there in the bed, thinking about the day and the little town,
excited about the trip and cautious about it and the life we were headed to
as well, I found it hard to fall back to sleep. I slowly cracked  open my
eyes in frustration, to see my mother standing next to the bed. She was
quietly reaching over to retrieve her small suitcase, pulling out a
nightgown to change into.

I watched with guarded fascination as she began to shed her clothes,
stepping out of her baggy blue jeans and slowly unbuttoning her shirt. By
all rights, my mother never spent too much time or energy  attempting to
accentuate her femininity, choosing comfort and functionality over style and
fashion. Perhaps, because of that, it seemed in most peoples eyes that she
was a rather plain looking sort of  woman. It was a rare occasion to find
her wearing makeup and even rarer to find her wearing a dress; at least as I
remembered it. Maybe things had been different when my father was alive, or
maybe she  simply had no intention or thoughts of finding another husband;
never bothering to primp and preen for one. But as I watched her peeling
away the layers of the days journey, bathed in the surreal softness of  the
rooms dim light, I began to see that she was a very attractive looking
woman. She stood  next to the bed in only her panties and bra before
slipping her nightgown over her head, then reaching up under  the length of
the gown to step out of her underwear and perform the uniquely feminine
trick of removing her bra and slipping it out of her sleeve.

To this very day, I'm fascinated by this ÔHoudini-esqueÕ feat and watching
it made me smile. As she finished, I closed my eyes to disguise my watching,
as she slowly slid into the bed next to me. Her skin felt  warm and soft
next to mine and I snuggled myself into her as I tried once again to sleep.
It didnÕt take long for my mother to drop off to sleep, exhausted by the day
and the driving, and soon I found my way  asleep as well, drifting off as I
pictured in my mind the titillating sight of my mother changing.

It was in the early morning hours, just before the sun would rise, that I
woke up; stirred by the sound of a car door closing outside of our camper. A
new arrival to the rest stop, or someone departing, I didnÕt  know. What I
did know was that IÕd been awoken out of a pleasant dream, although I
couldnÕt remember what at the time. The noise stirred my mother as well, but
not enough for her to wake, only enough to  make her stir in her sleep. It
was then, as I lay spooned close to her back, my arm resting around her
waist, that she nestled her hips ever so slightly. It brought to my
attention why IÕd felt so good about my  dream; I had an erection and as my
mother moved in her sleep, her behind nestled itself into my hard on,
pressing it firmly into her backside. The sensation was highly stimulating,
to say the least, but at the  same time terrifying as well.

I had begun to notice my erections several months before, and after having
discovered a couple of Ôgirly-magazinesÕ, learned quickly what they were
for. I had taken to masturbation like a fish to water, jerking  myself off
several times a day if I could; and almost ritually every night before
sleeping and every morning before climbing out of bed. So as I lay there in
the bed, my mothers soft hair filling my senses with  her feminine scent,
and her soft warm body pressing against my skin and genitals, I was becoming
extremely turned on. At the same time, I was terrified that my mother would
wake, filled with disgust at her  young son laying next to her like this. I
slowly and carefully rolled from her, onto my stomach to hide my condition,
and waited nervously for the sun to rise and my mother to wake. In that
agonizingly long  time, my mind was filled with the confused thoughts of sex
and guilt, and wanting my mother to wake up so that I could remove myself
from the embarrassment of the situation. It wasn't long, in reality, before
I felt and heard the stirring of my mother as she woke, and I fainted sleep.
She crawled out of bed and dressed herself before waking me, letting me know
that she was heading outside to see if there was a  bathroom available at
the rest stop. After hearing the camper door close behind her, I quickly
climbed out of bed and threw on my clothes before she returned.

We found a little something to eat and with my mothers prodding, we
enthusiastically headed out on the road once more, hoping that this day
would be better than the last. Motoring along the highway, I  watched the
passing landscape and enjoyed the mysterious discovery of it all, my mother
humming a tune or two as she heard them on the radio. Mom seemed to be in a
suprisingly good mood, and her  response to my asking was only to shrug her
shoulders and smile, replying that she had no idea why, but who cared
anyway. It was enough for me to know that she was happy and I agreed with on
her point,  enjoying her good mood and the excitement of the newness around
every turn of the road.

Mom made good speed of it, heading through Mississippi and well into
Louisiana by midday, reaching the late afternoon sun of Texas before we
stopped to get a bite to eat and stretch our legs.

We sat outside of the small rest stop by a small stream that ran along the
road and ate a sandwich that weÕd picked up at the nearby gas station while
filling the truck. It was decidedly hot under the afternoon  sun and it felt
good to dip our feet into what little survived of the late summer stream. We
left feeling refreshed and made it all of the way past Abilene before the
glaring sunset in the windshield began to tire  Mom. She found a another
little rest stop and decided to pull in for the night. The stop was set back
off of the road a ways, and except for the infrequent sound of a large truck
passing by, it was amazingly  quiet outside.

We sat out under the stars that night; eating our dinner and pretending to
be cowboys, my mother trying to teach me old Roy Rogers tunes, and both of
us laughing at our poor attempts. It was getting late as  my mother ushered
me into bed, letting me know that she wanted to sit out just a bit longer
before she would head in herself.

I didnÕt bother looking for my pajamas, preferring to strip down to my
underwear to sleep; as IÕd been doing since discovering things to do in bed
besides sleep. I crawled into the bed, thinking about the day  and
remembering the night before. It had now been nearly two whole days that I
hadnÕt had the privacy to relieve myself and I was thinking to myself that
it must be some kind of record. I wanted desperately  to slip down my
drawers and have my fun but the idea of getting walked in on by my mother
stopped me, so there I lay; tense and horny as hell. I guess it was about a
half hour later that I heard the camper  door open and my mother step
inside. The night air had cooled considerably outside and I could feel itÕs
touch as Mom carried it into the camper with her. Again, I closed my eyes as
she came into the  darkened camper, not wanting her to know that I was still
awake, subconsciously thinking that perhaps she would be able to read my
thoughts. I let myself peek ever so slightly as she readied herself for
sleep,  not being able to see much more that her silhouette in the window as
she removed her clothes. But this night, before pulling over her nightgown,
she removed her bra to pull on a small T-shirt against the  nights chill. I
stared in utter fascination as I could see in her silhouetted profile, her
exposed breasts. As she turned to put on her T-shirt, lifting her arms up to
slip it over her head, her nipples stood out firm  and erect against the
cool air. It was magnificent, and almost instantly my pecker grew to
attention. Now, being such a young age, that's not saying much, but to me it
was enough. Fully erect, I wasn't much  larger than a grown man's thumb, but
it was always full of youthful strength and eagerness. I watched her slip
into her nightgown, closing my eyes once again as she turned to crawl into
the bed. She wrestled  open a box, grabbing an extra blanket and spreading
it out over me before climbing in.

Tonight she crawled in behind me, between myself and the wall, pulling me
close to her for my warmth as she settled in. I could feel her soft breasts
as they pressed along my back, and the warmth of her  breath on my neck as
she began to doze off to sleep. It was terribly erotic to me, but also
disconcerting as I couldnÕt get my boner to subside. I was afraid that she
might notice it as she wrapped her arm  around me. I laid completely
motionless, waiting to hear her fall asleep so that I could as well, and
until eventually we both were asleep.

It was once again in the early morning hour, just before dawn that I would
wake up, but this time under entirely different circumstances. This morning
I woke with my eyes popping wide open, jolted into  reality from the depths
of my dreams. I had been seduced by a beautiful faceless woman, following
her helplessly as she took me to her bed and fulfilled my desires. It was at
that moment of pure ecstasy that  I found myself awake, unable to stop the
inevitable as I reached orgasm. I was coming in my underwear uncontrollably,
my hips pressed forward as if to thrust my penis deep inside of the dream
woman. But  my pleasure quickly turned to panic as I realized not only that
I couldnÕt stop as I emptied myself into my underwear, but also that my
groin was firmly pressed against my mothers backside, my penis nestled
along the divide of her cheeks. My mind raced in total chaos as I lay;
unable to stop myself as I pumped out my pent up seed and feeling the terror
of what would happen if my mother woke at that moment. It  was just as I
felt the last bit of my release, the final uncontrolled strain of my small
but exuberant balls that I felt my mother stir. She let out a breathy groan
as she wriggled herself against me, grinding my  penis in the now slippery
confines of my underwear. The sensation was a new one to me, my dick sliding
effortlessly against my cum slickened skin and I immediately let out one
more and final gush of  semen. I laid in a state of panic, time stretching
agonizingly, until I realized that she was not awake; or at least I prayed
that I was right. After a moment or two of stillness, I decided that I would
have to do  something and soon.

As gently as I could, I slid myself away from her, slipping out from
underneath the blankets that covered us and stood by the bedside. Gingerly
reaching down, I realized that IÕd made an absolute mess out of  my
underwear, soaking my briefs utterly. I slipped them off, using what dryness
of them left to clean myself. It was still very dark inside of the camper
and it took me a few minutes of searching to find some  clean underwear to
put back on. I stuffed my soiled underwear into my bag of laundry and was
turning to return to the bed when I heard my mother moving once again. It
was difficult to see, even though the  soft blueness of the night sky had
begun to show signs of the sun coming up soon. But even though I had no way
to be sure, I felt as though she had seen me standing there, for how long I
didnÕt know. I  couldnÕt be sure and tried to convince myself that it was
only my imagination, but I couldnÕt get the thought out of my head. Too
embarrassed now to climb back into the bed with her, I pulled on a pair of
pants and shirt and decided that I needed to get some air. As quietly as I
could, I opened the door to the camper to step outside.

I immediately was suprised at the chill in the air. It amazed me how it
could be so hot during the day and so cool at night here. As a boy raised in
Florida, this was all new to me and I was ill prepared for the  sensation. I
stood outside the camper for a few minutes, feeling the chill of the air,
but also enjoying the sight of the cool blue sky as it began itÕs morning
metamorphosis. Just as I though of sneaking back  inside the camper, I was
suprised by the snap of light from the camper window. My mother was up.

I felt a twinge of concern as I thought for sure she would be worried that I
wasn't in bed with her, but instead I  heard nothing. After a minute or so,
the camper door opened slowly with my mother stepping  outside. She was
dressed and had a sweater draped over her shoulders against the chill.

ÒGood morning.Ó She said to me softly, as she stepped out, looking up at the
sky.

ÒGood morning, Mom.Ó I said.

I watched her as she walked up next to me, but her gaze never left the
horizon.  She stood quietly next to me for a moment before saying,
ÒBeautiful, isn't it?Ó

I was a bit suprised by her statement, half expecting to be scolded for
leaving the camper without her permission, and stood at a loss for words.

ÒThe sky...Ó she said, still looking off into the distant glowing light.

It was then that I realized how conspicuous my silence seemed and I mumbled
out. ÒYes, it is.Ó

ÒItÕs a little cold to be standing outside with no shoes on, donÕt you
think?Ó she said. I didnÕt know what to say, feeling stupid as could be
trying to come up with come kind of explanation for myself. But instead  of
waiting for a reply, she turned to me with a smile and said, ÒWhy donÕt you
go grab some shoes and we'll go get ourselves a nice breakfast.Ó

I must admit, I was suprised but also very interested, a nice hot breakfast
sounded great at the moment.

ÒOkay.Ó I said, returning her smile and jumped into the camper to grab my
shoes. I heard her jump into the cab and start up the truck, waiting for me
to return.

Chapter Two: A Fork in the Road

We sat in a booth of a small Texas diner, feeling full from the generous
breakfast that weÕd been treated to. The place was full of farmers and
ranchers, all sipping down their coffee and talking about the  weather. IÕd
never been around so many people that had such a keen interest in Ôwhen it
might rainÕ or Ôhow hot it had been of lateÕ. Where I was from, it seemed to
me that it always rained in the summer,  everyday like clockwork in fact,
and it was always hot. But these people talked about it not as just a casual
topic of conversation, but with a seriousness that I didnÕt understand. In
hindsight, IÕm glad I didnÕt as  I can understand the frustration these
people must have felt living a life so dependent upon things that they had
no control over; rain or drought.

 So as we sat there, my mother turned her eyes from the waitress that had
picked up Mom's money from the table with a ÒYÕall have a nice day now!Ó and
a big Texas sized smile.

ÒOkay, decision time.Ó She said to me. I gave her a quizzical look as she
smiled sheepishly back at me.

ÒWe need to start thinking about which way we want to go, North or West. If
we head North, we might get there a bit quicker but the ride would be a
little tougher. If we keep heading West, it might take us a bit  longer but
it'll be easier.Ó She said, unfolding a map out on the table..

ÒWhere yÕall headed?Ó The waitress chimed in, returning with Mom's change.

ÒOregon.Ó I answered her.

ÒOregon! Well, I've got a brother who lives in Oregon! He's been out there
for...Ó The waitress went on, proceeding to tell us both her entire family
history and lineage, much to the amusement of my mother.

Ò... and he told me that if I ever was to come anÕ visit to make sure to see
the Grand Canyon along the way. ItÕs the biggest crack you ever did see!Ó
She finished, bring a round of laughs from the people in the  booth next to
us. My mother and I looked at each other and immediately began to laugh as
well, though not for the same reason as the  waitress.

ÒWell, I guess that decides it. West it is!Ó Mom said to me with a wink.

And so it was, we were back on the road. Most of the afternoon went by
rather uneventfully , that was until we were into New Mexico. The heat of
the day was at itÕs strongest and the truck began to over heat  once again.
Mom managed to get us to a truck stop where one of the truckers noticed our
plight. He seemed to be a nice enough man, short and stout with a funny
sounding voice, but genuinely honest to  my mother.

ÒYou can take it to a shop and they'll tell ya you need a new radiator,
which you could, but that's alotta money. Or you can just take it a lilÕ
slower on the highway and donÕt try drivinÕ durinÕ the hottest part of  the
day anÕ you'll be fine.Ó He told my mother, who was appreciative of his
honesty. Mom took his advice and we stopped for a while, waiting for the sun
to go down before heading out again. His advice must  have been good as we
seemed not to have the trouble again, at least it seemed so. It would make
the trip a little longer but I didnÕt mind at all, IÕm not sure that my
mother did much either, although she  would never admit it to me if she had.

We managed to make it out of New Mexico and into Arizona late that evening.
Mom decided that we shouldnÕt push it any further as she was getting a
little road weary, and found a place to stop for the  night. We spent the
evening much like we had the night before, sitting outside the camper as the
night air cooled down and had something to eat. We talked for a little
while, then Mom mentioned that it was  getting late and that we should
probably try to get out on the road early before it got too hot out. I
understood the hint that it was time for me to head inside and hit the sack,
but she followed her statement  with a little bit more.

ÒWhy donÕt you go on in and get ready... umm... to go to sleep.Ó The awkward
pause of her words caught my attention but I didnÕt quite know what to make
of it. As I got up and was opening the camper door,  she called out, ÒPaul,
you take as much time as you... um... need and just let me know when I can
come in, okay?Ó

I was really perplexed now, not really knowing what to say. As my mind was
both a fury and a blank at that moment, I turned to look at her and saw a
sweet and soft smile on her face as she looked at me. The  look in her eyes
was so soft and caring, so... motherly. ItÕs hard to describe, but I
realized there was definitely more to what she'd said than IÕd initially
thought.

ÒOkay, Mom.Ó I relied, still trying to understand what she'd meant. I
stepped into the camper and immediately my mind began to race with
questions.

ÒTake as much time as I needed?Ó
ÒTime for what? She knows it doesn't take long for me to get ready for
bed?Ó  ÒBut that's not exactly what she said. She said ... um...Ó My mind
tried to backtrack to remember her words. Òto ... um... sleep?Ó

It was then that it began to dawn on me what she'd meant. She knew! She knew
about what had happened last night. Did she know about my jerking off too?
She had to then! I began to feel very embarrassed  without real really
knowing why.

ÒAm I just being paranoid?Ó
ÒOr was this her way of letting me know that SHE knew?Ó  ÒWas she hinting
that it was okay to go ahead and masturbate?Ó ÒRight now?Ó

Whatever the case, if that was what she'd meant, there was almost no
possibility that I could even if I wanted to. My mind was racing so fast at
this point that it was hard for me to concentrate for 2 seconds let  alone
buff the bishop. In an effort to disguise my insecurity, I dug through my
laundry bag and grabbed a pair of pajamas that were down on the bottom and
put them on. They were a bit small, too small  really, but I put them on
none the less, trying to convince myself that I was making this all up in my
head and that there was no hidden meaning to her words. I reached up and
flicked off the light, then  leaned over the counter to look out the window.
I could see my mother sitting outside in her folding chair, her back toward
the camper, reading her book under the lamplight. The window was opened
about  halfway to let in some fresh air to the camper and I called out to
her, ÒMom? You can come in now.Ó I said it trying to sound as casual as I
could, but IÕm sure that it didnÕt come out as such.

ÒOh... Okay.Ó She said, sounding a little suprised, turning her head around
to the darkened window. ÒI'll be in, in a bit honey. You go on ahead to
sleep.Ó

I climbed into the bed, scooting myself up against the wall to make plenty
of room for her when she came to bed. Closing my eyes tightly in an effort
to sleep was in vain, I was still in a state of confusion  along with a
growing concern over what had happened the night before. Would it happen
again? Would I wake up in time tonight? Would my mother wake up this time?
But the longer I laid there;  wondering, worrying, the more tired I began to
feel. I donÕt know how long it was that I lay there feeling this way, but
eventually I fell asleep.

Like a self fulfilling prophecy, it would be late in the night that I would
find myself in the middle of another ÔdreamÕ. But unlike the night before,
this night's dream would be one of angst and tension. Again,  the faceless
woman appeared in my dream but there was something strangely different about
her, more mysterious; more elusive and distant. I wanted her, more than IÕd
wanted anything in my short life, but  looking at her I felt as though she
would be something or someone that I would never have. I seemed to follow
her, searching to be with her but never reaching her. The harder I tried the
further from my  reach she would be, as if I were being held back by
invisible hands. I struggled in vain to find her, only to realize that she
was gone. It was only then that I stopped, forlorn in the notion that she
was gone,  when she revealed herself to me. I stood silent and still as she
approached, her clothing shedding from her as she neared. She came to stand
in front of me, gently cupping my face with her hands and kissing  me
passionately. I desperately wanted to to touch her, touch her naked flesh
but didnÕt, fearing that if I tried she would disappear again. So I stood
still as she ran her hands along my body, her hand seeming  to penetrate
right through my clothing to touch my skin. She found her way slowly to my
pants and began to rub the erection still hidden to her underneath my
clothes. As she rubbed I began to feel the heat  of her hand, and her breath
quickened in my ear with the increasing pace of her touch. I was utterly
submissive to her whims as I was quickly building to orgasm. It was then, as
the night before, that I realized  what was happening but was powerless to
stop the wave that was cresting in my loins. As I began to cum, feeling a
flush of warmth and wetness come over me, I heard her whisper my name in my
ear. It was  so sensuous, so erotic, so... real.

I opened my eyes, feeling the sweat on my  brow as I lay on my back, my body
still tense and yet relieved from my orgasm, thinking to myself, ÒNo, not
again.Ó My mother was lying on her side, facing me,  both of us covered by
the blanket. I tried to remain as still as I could, hoping not to wake her,
and attempted to let my breathing slow. I could feel the warmth of my
mother's body next to me, her hand resting  on my arm, when I felt it slide
gently against my skin.

ÒPaul?Ó I heard in a soft whisper. It might as well been a million decibels,
as the sound of my mothers voice startled me into total sobriety. I closed
my eyes in panic, afraid to answer her, but realized that it  was useless as
she knew that I was awake.

ÒPaul...Ó She whispered once again.

Ò IÕm so sorry, MomÓ I stammered out. Ò I... I...Ó

ÒShhh...Ó she whispered softly, Ò... itÕs okay. There's nothing for you to
be sorry for.Ó

It was only the soothing tone of her voice that kept my breathing from
racing out of control, even though at that moment I felt sure that my heart
was going to pound right out of my chest if it beat any harder.  She had
begun to softly stroke my arm, feeling my tension. I didnÕt know what to do,
lying there as still as I could be; searching for something to say. She
broke the silence once more, softly saying, ÒItÕs okay,  stay right there.Ó

I felt her slide herself out of the bed, being careful not to pull the
covers off of me as she did so. I hadnÕt the courage to open my eyes to see
what she was doing or where she was going, although I could hear  her every
movement. She opened one of the packed boxes and rummaged inside for a
moment, then I could hear her draw a bit of water from the sink. The room
was silent for a minute or two, long enough  to begin to draw to my
attention back to my predicament. I could feel the dampness of my underwear
underneath my pajamas, and slid my hand down to feel that it had soaked
completely through. The  anxiety I felt had caused my penis to shrink to
near microscopic proportions as I wondered what my mother was thinking of
me. Was he angry with me? The tone of her voice made me think she wasn't but
I  still wasn't sure. Maybe she was disgusted, disappointed; thinking that
her son had turned out to be some kind of pervert. On and on my mind raged
until I felt my mother sit herself gently down on the edge of  the bed.

ÒPaul?Ó She said softly.

ÒHere it comes...Ó  I prepared myself.

ÒPaul honey, why donÕt you slip off those clothes... so you can clean up.Ó
The tone of her voice was calm and caring, easing slightly my fears, enough
for me to open my eyes. It was still very dark inside of the  camper but I
could see enough of her face to feel as though she wasn't angry with me.

After hesitating for a moment, I pulled down my pajama pants and underwear
under the covers. When I had them off, my mother simply held out her hand,
without saying a word to me, letting me know that  she wanted to take them.
I pulled them out from underneath the blanket and handed them to her, and in
return she placed a moist washcloth in my hand. She didnÕt say a word, just
smiled and stood up off of  the bed, turning her back to me as she put my
soiled clothes away into the laundry bag. I used the washcloth to quickly
clean myself up, scrubbing away my embarrassment vigorously. She sat herself
back  down on the bed after IÕd finished.

ÒI brought you some clean underwear.Ó She said, handing them to me gently.
As I slipped them under the blanket to pull them on, still feeling too
self-conscious to let her see me naked, she began to talk.

ÒPaul, do you want to talk?Ó She asked.

I finished pulling up my underwear and folded my arms nervously around
myself as I tried to think of what to say. ÒMom, IÕm... IÕm so sorry...Ó I
began.

ÒIÕm not mad at you.Ó She said, Ò IÕm not mad at you at all.Ó I sat silent
and stunned with relief to hear her words, and began to relax a bit.

ÒY... YouÕre not?Ó I squeaked out.

ÒOh honey, IÕm the one who should apologize.Ó She said.

ÒYou...?Ó I coughed out in confusion.

ÒWell, yes...Ó She started, then paused for a long moment, Ò Was this your
first... I mean, have you ever had a wet dream before?Ó She asked
delicately.

ÒUm... well kinda...Ó I replied, cautiously relieved that she didnÕt know
about the night before.

She sat silent for a minute, then asked point blank, ÒDo you know about
masturbating yet?Ó

I can only imagine what the look on my face must have been, judging from my
mothers reaction. She smiled almost to a laugh before she started again.

ÒItÕs okay, you can tell me.  ItÕs nothing to be ashamed of,  in fact itÕs
perfectly normal.Ó She was looking right into my eyes waiting for an answer,
but all I managed to out was an, ÒUh huh.Ó

ÒWet dreams happen sometimes when you haven't... um... relieved yourself in
a while. Paul, has it been a while since you...?Ó She asked. I was once
again floored by her question but beginning to feel  comfortable enough to
take a chance and be honest with her.

ÒSince we left.Ó I said, feeling really good about letting out the truth to
her. She had a slight look of suprise on her face which she quickly
attempted to mask from me.

ÒYoung b... young men sometimes masturbate quite a bit. How often do you...
feel the need?Ó She asked, her voice attempting to sound a little more
serious this time.

I took a deep breath and tried swallowing away the dryness of my mouth. The
relief IÕd felt before had given me the courage to continue, and I began,
ÒWell, um... every night before I go to bed... and usually  in the morning,
too.Ó She didnÕt say anything, just softly smiled at me, and her gaze seemed
to prompt me to continue. ÒIf I get a chance during the day, sometimes more
than once...Ó I went on, until I  noticed her eyes begin to widen and her
smile grow. I started to feel a bit embarrassed, as if IÕd gone on too long
and stopped myself from speaking.


Mom turned her head then looked back at me, trying to hide the smile from
her face.

ÒThank you.Ó She said and bent down to kiss my forehead.

ÒFor what?Ó I asked.

ÒFor being... you.Ó She said. I returned her smile, feeling that everything
was okay now. ÒAre you ready to go back to sleep?Ó She asked.

ÒSure, Mom.Ó I said. She slipped under the covers next to me, giving me a
hug as she rested her head down onto the pillow. It felt wonderful having
her holding me as I closed my eyes.

ÒI love you.Ó She whispered in my ear.

ÒI love you too.Ó I said and gently drifted back to sleep.

Chapter Three: Dawn

I woke in the morning to the sound of the truck's engine turning over. It
startled me a bit, until I realized that my mother was already up and ready
to roll. I could tell by the  dimness of the light outside the  window that
it was still very early, the sun was just beginning to make itÕs way over
the horizon. I was about to climb out of the bed when the camper door opened
and my mother stepped in.

ÒWell, good morning sleepy head.Ó She said.

ÒGood morning.Ó I replied, wiping my eyes.

ÒI wanted to get an early start today.Ó She said while she rummaged through
a box for something. ÒYou can stay in the camper if you want.Ó

ÒUm... sure.Ó I answered her, suprised by the suggestion. It was something
that she'd never allowed me to do before, stay in the camper while we drove,
always saying that it was unsafe.

ÒOkay then,Ó She said with a smile to me, Ò I'll need to stop in a little
while to get some gas and we'll get something to eat.Ó

ÒOkay.Ó I replied, excited that I would get to stay in the back for the
first time. I listened as she left the camper and heard the truck door
close, the engine rev and off we went. I stayed in the bed, wrapping the
warm blanket back around me as we hit the highway. It was a cheap thrill,
yes, but I also realized that it was the first time since we started our
journey that IÕd had any real privacy. I began thinking about what  had
happened the night before and wondered if my mother let me stay back here
alone for a reason. For THAT reason! Well, the more I thought about it, the
more excited I became at the idea. She knew IÕd  be back here spanking the
monkey and she didnÕt care! As I rolled over on my back I felt the still
damp washcloth lying under the covers from last night. Just the thought of
it made me hard as hell and I  thought to myself, ÒOh, what the hell.Ó

I slipped down my underwear beneath the covers and let my fingers trace over
the thin skin of my penis. Oh yes, my little friend, I Ôm  back. My eyes
closed as I made a ring of my index finger and thumb,  sliding them gently
down over the head of my penis and slowly sliding the imaginary hole down
itÕs shaft. My stomach muscles clenched at the feeling, tensing my body as
they did. As I gently squeezed the  ring around my shaft a little tighter
and pulled itÕs thin skin up and over the crest of my little glans, my head
fell back onto the pillow, sinking in softly. I started to roam my thoughts
for images of sex; thoughts  of the naked woman in my dream, earlier
fantasies of girls that I knew, but I found myself distracted by thoughts of
my mother. And as in my dream, it seemed the harder I tried to think of
something else, the  more distant it became, and the more distant it became
the faster I began stroking myself. As I tried to relax, my mother's words
began to come to mind; ÒMasturbation is a very normal thing .Ó she'd said.
If it  was a normal thing, I surmised, then everyone must do it. Just then,
as I pondered that thought, another popped into my head. I wondered if my
mother did it, and no sooner had I thought it than my mind  began picturing
the sight IÕd seen of my mother; standing in the darkened camper, pulling
off her bra, her nipples standing out in the against the window light. ÒOh,
Jesus!Ó  My little pounding pecker jumped  to the thought of it, and nearly
as quickly, my vision transformed into the sight of the naked woman from my
wet dream, only she wasn't faceless anymore. It was my mother standing
there, naked and inviting.  The image was so erotic to me, so exciting that
I barely had enough time to pull back the blanket before I began to explode.
I was stroking at a furious pace as I began to have the most intense orgasm
IÕd  ever had; my little balls seemed to be almost squeezing out my cum as
it shot high onto my chest, again... and again... and again. The image was
locked in my brain as I came, and although I felt as though  I shouldnÕt be
thinking it, I couldnÕt help myself. I was coming so hard and it felt so
good that I didnÕt want it to end. As my balls seemed to finally give out,
releasing their last, I continued to stroke even faster.  In my head was the
image from my dream, the woman, my mother and when I heard again the whisper
of my name from her in my ear, it was the voice of my mother whispering my
name. That pushed me  over the edge as I began to orgasm again. My breath
was locked in my lungs as my entire body clenched tightly in an effort to
find one last drop to ejaculate. I felt my face go flush as I came for the
second  time in as many  minutes.

I dropped my head back onto the pillow and let my breath gush from my lungs.
I lay there for a moment or two completely spent by the power of the
orgasms.

ÒWow.Ó I thought to myself. I gently cleaned myself off with the washcloth,
itÕs cool moistness feeling tremendous on my skin and poor abused little
pecker. I was so completely relaxed at that moment that I  slowly drifted
back to sleep.

I woke a while later to the sound of the truck slowing down. I had no idea
how long IÕd been sleeping but I began to realize that Mom was getting ready
to stop for gas. I hopped out of the bed and jumped  into my blue jeans. I
finished tying my shoes just as my mother came to a stop at the gas pump. I
leapt out of the camper and saw her getting out of the truck.

ÒMa, IÕm gonna go see if they've got a bathroom.Ó I said.

ÒOkay, honey.Ó She replied.

I met her back walking back to the truck after paying for the gasoline. She
had a small bag under her arm and mentioned that she'd gotten us a little
breakfast. I could tell that she wanted to get back on the  road., so I
climbed into the cab and we headed out. I fished through the bag to find a
box of powdered donuts and some milk. Mom seemed to be in a very chipper
mood and I felt that it was going to be a  great day. She asked me if I
really wanted to see the Grand Canyon, and laughed when I told her ÒNaw,
itÕs only a big olÕ crack anyway.Ó I knew that If IÕd said yes, she would
have stopped for me but I knew  she didnÕt want to stop. So on we went,
slowly making our way into California. We drove quite a bit that day,
finally stopping I donÕt know where for the night. Mom was tired and so was
I and after eating a  little supper, sleep sounded pretty good to the both
of us. I think that I was asleep before me head even hit the pillow, and for
the first time since leaving home on this journey, I slept soundly through
the  night.

Chapter Four: U-turn

We woke early in the morning, feeling well rested and eager to get underway.
We sped along the highway, a feeling of excitement in the two of us as we
shot up through the middle of California. We had  made all the way to the
west coast and despite having hit a few snags along the way, it seemed as
though it wouldn't be much longer before we would find our way to Oregon. We
marveled at the sites as we  headed through the middle of the state, passing
through the capital and into northern California. It was then out luck ran
out. The truck, which had so stalwartly survived through the desert, had
gotten us so  close to our destination, began to wheeze out itÕs final
breaths. At first it began to run hot, but unlike before, slowing didnÕt
seem to remedy the problem. It was then that the two of us began to notice
the  noise, growing ever louder and the truck seeming to struggle ever
harder to continue, sounding more and more like a steam shovel than and
automobile. As we continued to slow, I stuck my head out the  window, only
to notice that we were trailing a billowing cloud of soft white smoke behind
the camper. Mom pulled off of the highway and followed the sparse signs of
life into the small town of Red Grove.

A few blocks into the small tree lined main street we found a garage,
pulling into the lot and up to the bay doors. Ò DonÕt turn off that truck.Ó
We heard a man call out from inside of the garage. The silver  haired man
walked out from the garage, wiping his oily hands with an equally oily rag.
ÒDonÕt park it hear, by the looks of it, it might not start ever again.Ó He
said as he stood amid the cloud of smoke that  began to gather around the
truck. ÒPark it over there, down that street where it won't get in the way.Ó
He barked out. Mom backed out of the garage and slowly parked the truck,
itÕs motor chugging for dear life.  The mechanic stood and watched as we
parked the truck, pulling ourselves out and walked back to him. Almost as if
he knew the question before it was asked, he began to shake his head slowly.

ÒBad?Ó My mother asked him, reading his look.

ÒWorse.Ó He answered bluntly.

ÒWorse?Ó She said, her voice and heart sinking.

ÒWell, judging by the amount of water coming out of the tailpipe, I can tell
you right now that at best its a blown head gasket, maybe more.Ó He paused
as he could see that my mother didnÕt realize the  seriousness of the
problem. ÒThat means probably a blown engine or at least a total rebuild.Ó
That much she did understand and her heart sank even further. It was
painfully obvious to me, and likely to the  mechanic as well, that we didnÕt
have the money for this. ÒIÕm real sorry to have to tell you that ma'am,
but... Ò He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile as he stood looking at
us. ÒAnyways, it'll be a while  before I could even look at it, gotta lot of
other cars to get fixed first.Ó

Mom just nodded her head in understanding, then thanked him before she took
my hand and walked us both back to the truck. I knew that the situation had
suddenly become rather grave, and sat silently with  my mother inside the
cab of the truck while she though silently to herself. After sitting for
almost an hour, not saying a word, Mom finally said, ÒHoney, I want you to
stay here . IÕm going across the street to  make a phone call.Ó

ÒAre you gonna call Aunt Dianne?Ó I asked.

ÒYes, honey. I'll be right backÓ She walked across the street to a pay phone
that stood along the side of the garage. Sitting in the cab, I nervously
watched as she emptied some change from her pocket,  spilling it out on the
pay phone booth counter and began filling the phone with her coins. She
apparently reached her sister, as she talked for a while, occasionally
stopping to pump more coins into the  phone. She never looked my way, but I
began to sense that something was wrong. Her head began to hang low and she
wrapped her arm around herself nervously.

She hesitantly hang up the pay phone receiver and stood motionless in the
phone booth for a moment, staring at the phone. The longer I watched her
standing there, the deeper the pit in my stomach grew.  When she finally
turned, she leaned her back against the booth and began to slide herself
down, covering her face with her hands. I knew immediately that she was
crying and I felt my heart rise up into my  throat as well. I jump from the
truck and ran across the street, stopping in front of the  phone booth door
and called out to her.

ÒMom?Ó

She just sat there on the floor of the phone booth sobbing into her hands,
her body rocking to the power of her crying.

ÒMom...?Ó I called out again, the timbre of my voice rising as my emotions
churned inside. I think if IÕd had a chance to do it all over again, I would
have let her cry, she needed it, needed to let out her pain  and
frustration. But the sound of alarm in my voice caught her, and in an
instinctual gesture she held her hand out to the glass to me. I dropped down
to my knees, wanting to be closer to her, and she began  to fight back the
tears.

ÒMom, are you okay?Ó I called out.

ÒYes. Yes, honey. IÕm okay. IÕm okay.Ó She said, forcing out the words
between her deep breaths. She began to wipe the tears from her face and
slowly stood herself up. I stood outside of the glass door, waiting  for her
to step out of the booth, searching her face to see if I could tell what had
upset her so badly. She stepped out and looked at me, attempting to put a
smile on her face as she did. I nearly leapt into her  arms, wanting to hug
her and take away her pain as well as mine.

ÒItÕs okay, baby. EveythingÕs going to be okay.Ó She said, squeezing me
tight and stroking my hair.

ÒWhat happened?Ó I asked her.

Ò Come on, let's go sit down for a minute.Ó She said calmly. ÒI've got some
news to tell you.Ó

She took my hand as we walked over to a bench that sat underneath a tree in
the park. We sat down, and Mom looked off into the distance and took a deep
breath.

ÒWhat happened?Ó I asked again, speaking the words softly to disguise my
anxiety.

ÒI donÕt think we should go to Oregon.Ó She said.
She turned to me and tried to smile again.

ÒBut... why? What happened?Ó I asked.

ÒWell...Ó She started, pausing to figure out how best to explain, ÒYou know
how we've had a run of bad luck lately?Ó I nodded my head. ÒWell you Aunt
and her husband have run into some bad luck, too.Ó

ÒOh.Ó I said, curious but unsure if I should ask what kind of bad luck. ÒAre
they going to be okay?Ó

ÒOh, they're going to be just fine.Ó She said, sounding only half convincing
to both herself and to me. ÒReally.Ó

ÒI just think that itÕs... Well, it wouldn't be the right thing for us to
impose ourselves on them right now.Ó

Now even for as young as I was, I knew that it had to have been much more
serious than she was trying to portray, especially in light of our current
predicament. It would only be tears later that I would find  the reason for
this decision. My aunt's husband had been hiding the fact from his wife that
he was about to loose his job. The mill at which he worked was about to
close, sending home over a thousand  workers in itÕs wake. They, like many,
had little to call savings and the prospects of finding work in a town whose
main source of employment was closing was pretty grim. My aunt had delayed
telling her  husband of our arrival to the very last, concerned what his
reaction might be. Given the circumstance, it was not good and
understandably so. It took a lot of courage on my mother's part to make the
decision  she did, and all these years later I have an even greater respect
for her strength.

We sat silent on that park bench for a while, my mother distant in thought
and I felt a growing unease inside myself. I was terribly afraid to say
anything, worried that it might upset her even more. It was then,  to my
suprise, when I heard her let out a deep breath, and stood up from the bench
rather energetically.

ÒWell, ...Ó she asked, Ò What do you think?Ó

I looked up at her, watching her as she slowly turned herself looking around
the park. ÒHuh?Ó I said.

ÒWhat do you think about this place.Ó She asked again.

I stood up from the bench, turning myself as she had, trying to figure out
what it was that she was looking at and what she meant by her question.

ÒUh... I donÕt know. ItÕs okay, I guess.Ó I said hesitantly.

ÒHmmm... I think itÕs rather charming, really.Ó She said, her voice sounding
suprisingly upbeat. ÒI think itÕs a good a place as any, donÕt you?Ó

ÒFor what?Ó I asked.

ÒTo stay.Ó She said, still looking around.

ÒIn the park?Ó I asked, confused.

The absurdity of my question caught her attention, and she looked at me and
laughed. ÒCome on, silly! We've got work to do.Ó She said, taking my hand
and heading toward the street.

ÒIf we're going to call this place home, we're going to need some money.Ó
She said with determination as we walked. The confidence in her voice and in
her stride began to melt away my fears. She had a  plan, and that was enough
for me. We walked along the little main street, Mom studying each and every
small shop we passed. As we came across a small coffee shop, my mother
announced, ÒHere we go.Ó

I felt the eyes of the few local patrons on us as we walked in and sat
ourselves at a small table by the front window. I looked at my mother
silently, trying to figure out what what it was that she was thinking, a
look of determination on her face as she gazed out the window.. After a
minute or so, a young teen aged waitress came to the table, asking what weÕd
like.

Mom gave me a nod approval, letting me know that I could order something to
eat. The pie on the counter looked delicious and I asked if I could have a
piece. The young waitress looked at me, and then to  my mother for approval
as well.

ÒWe'll have one slice of pie, one glass of milk and one coffee , please.Ó
She said with a wink to me. The waitress smiled at us both and disappeared
back behind the counter to fetch our order. Mom seemed  to have a beaming
smile as she looked at me, making me feel a bit self-conscious.

ÒWhat?Ó I asked, feeling as though IÕd done something wrong.

ÒNothing.Ó She replied with a sheepish smile.

The waitress quickly returned, a slice of the pie and glass of milk in hand.
She headed back to get Mom's coffee as I dung into the pie with fervor. She
came back to see that I was nearly half finished with the  slice already,
and asked, ÒGood, huh?Ó

ÒMmm HmmÓ I managed to mumble back with a mouthful of pie. As she poured the
coffee, my mother looked at her and asked, ÒI wonder if you can help me?Ó

ÒSure.Ó The young girl said.

ÒWell, we're kinda new here in town. And... Well, I was hoping that you
might know of someone around here that might need some help?Ó The young
waitress just stood for a minute, a bit unsure of how to  respond to the
question.

ÒIt doesn't matter what it might be, really. I was just thinking that maybe
you might have heard of someone that might be looking to hire someone?Ó Mom
continued.

ÒWell...Ó The waitress said hesitantly, looking around the room at the
locals, whose attention had turned to us as well. It was a table of older
woman, sitting and sipping their afternoon coffee and whispering to  each
other.

Ò... Umm, not really.Ó She said.

ÒWell, thanks anyway.Ó Mom said sincerely. The looks from the ladies at the
table caught my mothers attention and I think she began to feel as though we
were being stared at, enough for her to realize that  our four days on the
road was readily apparently.

ÒFinish your pie, I'll be right back.Ó She said to me as she stood up from
the table. The woman at the table began to whisper amongst themselves as my
mother walked past their table, my mother trying her  best to ignore them.

ÒIÕm sorry to bother you,Ó Mom asked quietly to the waitress behind the
counter, Òbut do you have a place where I might be able to clean up a bit?Ó
The young girl glanced over my mother shoulder, noticing  the old ladies
table staring silently at her.

ÒSure, come on back here.Ó She said with a smile. She stepped back into the
kitchen with my mother, showing her a small bathroom in the back.

I could faintly hear the whispers from the ladies tale grow as they
disappeared behind the kitchen door. ÒWell, would you look at that...Ó and
ÒOh, that poor boy, just look at him...Ó I didnÕt pay too much  attention,
my senses focused more on finishing the last bites of the pie on my plate.
After a few more minutes, Mom stepped back out from the kitchen door,
walking up to the counter and opened her purse to  pay for our meal. I
pushed myself  back from the table, making an embarrassingly loud noise as
the wooden chair slid along the floor. I walk up, standing next to my mother
as she paid the young waitress and  heard her apologizing to her.

ÒIÕm sorry if we look such a site. I didnÕt realize...Ó She said as the girl
returned her change. My mother attempted to offer her a tip, but the girl
refused.

ÒPlease, no. Ò You need it..Ó She started to say, stopping herself as she
realized what it must have sounded like. ÒAre you going to be okay, Ma'am?Ó
She asked with sincerity.

ÒOh, we'll be fine. Thank you for asking.Ó Mom said with a soft smile as she
ushered me toward the door. She walked behind me as we left the shop, eyes
still upon us. We had turned on the side walk, although  I had no idea where
we were going when the waitress from the coffee shop stepped out behind us.

ÒExcuse me, Ma'am.Ó She called out to my mother. My mother stopped and
turned, the young girl walking up close to her. ÒPlease donÕt mind them.Ó
She said, turning and giving a stern look back into the  coffee shop window
at the table of women inside. ÒThey're just a bunch of old gossips that have
too much time on their hands.Ó

ÒThank you.Ó Mom said.

ÒListen, there's an little antique shop just on the other end of town. The
woman that owns it has had a sign in the window for a while about looking
for some help. I go by sometimes with my grandmother, but  itÕs been a
while. I donÕt know what kind of work it is, or if she still needs help,
but...Ó she offered in an almost apologetic tone.

My mother smiled softly back at her, and gently reached out; touching the
young girl's hand. ÒThank you, dear.  That's very kind of you.Ó

YouÕre welcome, and... good luck!Ó She said to us as we began to head back
down the street.

Mom stopped at the corner of the small side street leading to where the
truck was parked. I stopped along with her, holding her hand affectionately,
while she stood and thought for a moment. ÒI think... umm I  think maybe we
should find a place to spend the night tonight.Ó She said to me. It was late
in the afternoon and it appeared that the town was beginning to close up for
the night. ÒSure, Mom.Ó I replied.

Mom gingerly drove the truck just outside of the town before finding a small
farmers market that appeared to be boarded up. She pulled into the gravel
parking lot, parking in the rear and out of sight from the  road. We had
passed the little antique shop that the waitress had mentioned; a small
little house that sat just off of the main drag at the end of town. When I
mentioned it to Mom, she replied, ÒYes, I see it  too. But I think that for
now, we need to rest. Maybe in the morning.Ó

ÒSure, Mom.Ó I said. Ò I'll bet she'll hire you... I would.Ó I said, in an
attempt to make her feel better.

She looked at me and smiled, ÒThank you, sweetheart.Ó

That night, as we sat outside the camper, neither of us talked very much;
feeling drained by the events of that day. I felt sad for my mother, knowing
that she worried about me, about us and what might  happen. It was unusually
warm that night, unlike the nights we had spent parked out under the desert
sky. Funny how it works that way, the blanket of clouds so foreign to the
desert, trapping in the heat of this  small valley. We made our way to bed
late that night and it didnÕt take long for sleep to overtake us both.

Late at night, or in the early pre dawn hours I couldnÕt tell, I woke to the
sounds of rain. It wasn't a hard rain, barely enough to notice really, but
it rang at the top of the thin camper roof, resonating it like a  snare
drum. It was warm enough inside that the two of us had kicked off the
blanket and were laying out on the bed uncovered. I whispered out to my
mother, thinking that she had awakened from the rain as  well, but heard
nothing. I wasn't suprised in light of how tired she'd been when we went to
sleep.

I listened to the sound of the rain for a while, my thoughts drifting
between what had happened and where we were, and wondering what kind of
place this would turn out to be. As the rain began to lighten, I  could
begin to hear the soft sound of my mother's breathing as she lay next to me.
Listening to her, and feeling the touch of her skin as her leg gently
pressed along side mine brought my thoughts back to the  day before. I began
to think about how IÕd jerked off in the camper as she drove, and of how IÕd
fantasized about her while having the best orgasm IÕd ever had before. ItÕs
wasn't long before IÕd gotten a hard  on and was unconsciously rubbing it
through my underwear. It felt incredibly good and I wanted to continue,
until I felt my mother stir. She was laying on her side, facing me as she
began to roll onto her  back. I thought that she was merely turning in her
sleep until she reached up to the countertop above our heads, fishing for
something in the darkness. I remained still, but my eyes were opened as I
watched  her bring her arm back down and she rolled back to face me once
again. She still had her eyes closed as she brought her hand down to mine,
revealing what she had gotten.

In her hand was a small, soft towel which she gently placed into into my
hand and softly whispered to me, ÒHere you go, baby.Ó I was stunned. She
brought her lips to my bare shoulder, gently kissing my arm  once before
slowly rolling back over, onto her other side to face away from me.

For whatever doubts I had in my mind, the idea of masturbating with my
mother lying next to me in bed, my pecker had none. It had become as stiff
as Krupp steel and was begging to be relieved. I lay still  for a moment,
trying to build my courage enough to embark on my mother's offering, when I
felt her take a deep breath.

ÒItÕs okay, sweetheart. Go ahead.Ó I heard her gently whisper, feeling her
words as her back lay against my arm. Hearing her encouragement was enough
break my hesitation, and I reached down and pulled  the elastic of my
underwear down, exposing my penis to the open air. I felt as though it was
all a dream. I was so excited, and so scared at the same time that I nearly
came right then and there. I might as  well have, because when I finally had
the courage to reach down and wrap my fingers around my cock, it was only a
matter of a few quick strokes before I began to explode wildly. It was as if
my entire being  was concentrated within the grip of my hand as I could feel
nothing else, only the orgasmic pumping of my cock as it squirted itself
empty all over me. I was coming so hard that my cum shot up to my neck,
nearly hitting my chin. I was barely moving but the orgasm simply grew and
grew, until my balls began to ache in ecstasy. After the feeling finally
began to subside, my balls having emptied themselves completely, I quickly
began to wipe myself off with the towel; cleaning up the cum that seemed to
nearly cover me. As I finished wiping the last drops, I felt my mother take
in a deep breath, releasing it in a  long, slow sigh. She never said a word,
only nestled against me gently and drifted back to sleep.

I laid there in the bed, too excited about what had happened to fall back
asleep, and yet so drained by it that I felt as if I were floating. It was
only after I pulled back up my underwear, rolling gently on my  side to drop
the sticky towel off the side of the bed, that I began to gently drift back
to sleep. After that night, whatever concepts IÕd had of morality, any
thoughts IÕd had about masturbation, had changed  forever. If society
considered what just happened as taboo, I no longer cared. And neither, it
seemed, did my mother.

Chapter Five: The Truth

I woke in the morning, rustled awake as Mom was crawling out of the bed. She
noticed my waking and softly said, ÒShhh, honey. ItÕs still early, you can
sleep some more if you'd like.Ó

I was still a bit groggy, enough to just grunt an inaudible moan and roll
over on my side. But as much as the idea of falling back asleep sounded
appealing to me, it was too late, I was awake. I listened to the  sounds of
my mother as she got herself dressed. When I could tell that she was
clothed, I rolled back over and opened my eyes to see her. I think she was a
bit suprised to see me awake, and gave me a big  smile, and saying, ÒGood
morning.Ó

ÒGood morning.Ó I replied, smiling back at her.

ÒI saw a Laundromat just down the road aways, so I thought IÕd walk down to
do some of our clothes this morning.Ó She said. She was gathering some
clothes and putting them in a duffle bag,  preparing for  the walk.

ÒCan I come with you?Ó I asked, wanting to see more of this new place.

ÒSure.Ó She said, ÒIf you want to.Ó

I crawled out of bed and was looking for some jeans to slip on when my
mother said, ÒWhy donÕt you put on some clean underwear and we'll wash
those.Ó She was  facing away from me, still stuffing clothes  into the
duffle bag as she spoke. I hesitated for a moment, feeling strangely odd
about stripping naked in front of her. I suppose it might be considered a
bit bizarre, in light of what I had done during the  night, but I still felt
strange about it. In an equally strange way, I was also curiously excited at
the thought of it. I quickly realized that if I hesitated much longer, I was
soon going to end up with a full fledged  hard on, so I pulled off my
underwear and slipped on another pair. As I was pulling on a pair of jeans,
my mother bent down next to me and grabbed my discarded underwear and I
watched as she grabbed  the soiled towel at the bedside as well, stuffing
them both into the duffle bag. I finished getting myself dressed as Mom
stepped outside, waiting for me to finish.

ÒIÕm ready when you are.Ó She said as she closed the door behind her.

I quickly finished tying my shoes and stepped out, ready to go. Mom was
standing over by the boarded up market, looking around the corner at
something. When she heard me closing the door of the camper,  she looked
over to me and said, ÒOkay, let's go!Ó

It was still cloudy out, the air feeling thick and damp from the night's
rain, as we walked into town. It was Sunday morning, and it appeared as
though the town was still asleep. The walk k went quickly, both  Mom and I
finding interest in viewing this new place. It was actually quite pretty, a
very rustic looking town that had obviously been around for a long time.
Before long, we had made our way to the small  Laundromat, just an add on
room next to a dry cleaners shop. It  was a small place, only a handful of
coin operated machines, but it was all that we needed.

Mom loaded up our laundry and took a seat when she'd finished, finding a
magazine to read as we waited. I walked around for a while, trying to find
something to do and watched as the infrequent car loped  into the town. Al
the while I walked around the little shop, listening to the hum of the
machines, I couldnÕt help thinking to myself about what had happened so far
on this trip. It had been a pretty amazing  few days in my young life, and I
thought about some of the things that my mother had said to me. From time to
time as we drove late at night, we would talk about Oregon, talk about
starting over in a new  place, a new life. I think she talked about it to
keep herself alert as she drove, but also to convince me, and herself that
everything was going to work out. I think that she was enjoying the idea of
starting over,  a chance to do or be something or someone that she'd always
wanted. She never said it that way, but I could tell. And then I began to
think about what had happened with me, with her being so... open  and...
attentive to me. Maybe that was all part of it, I donÕt know, but it was
different. Something had changed. What I did know was that whatever it was,
I liked it. I liked the feeling of being so honest and  open with her, it
made me feel more... adult.

As I sat daydreaming, I heard the washers whine as they finished their work
and my mother put down her magazine to pull out the clothes and throw them
into the two big dryers. She sat down in front of them  and picked back up
the magazine to read. I got up from where I was sitting and walked over to
her, taking a seat next to her.

ÒBored, sweety?Ó She asked.

ÒYeah, a little.Ó I said.

She was still reading her magazine when a thought popped into my head. After
all of the things IÕd been thinking about as I had sat alone, I blurted out,
ÒMom, can I ask you a question?Ó

ÒSure.Ó She replied, still lightly reading.

ÒMom... do girls masturbate too?Ó I asked.

She paused for a moment, still looking at her magazine, then gently closed
it, placing it down next to her. She turned and looked at me, trying to hide
the suprise on her face.

ÒSometimes.Ó She said, her look becoming one of curiosity.

ÒOh.Ó I said, feeling a bit embarrassed by my own question. I looked back
toward the dryers, watching as they tossed the clothes around and around,
but could feel my mothers eyes on me.

ÒPaul...,Ó She said, ÒIs there something you want to talk about?Ó

ÒNo, not really.Ó I replied, unsure if I did or not.

ÒPaul, I want you to look at me.Ó She said, her tone becoming more serious.
I sat myself up in my chair and turned to look at her.

ÒPaul, if you feel uncomfortable about what happened last night, then I want
you to tell me.Ó She said.

ÒNo, Mom. ItÕs not that. ItÕs just...Ó I began, but stopped as I began to
wonder if I was ready to open up even more.

ÒIÕm sorry, sweety. I can tell you feel uncomfortable about it.Ó She began,
but I wanted to stop her. I wanted to stop her from apologizing because
although there was some truth to what she'd said, I also knew  that IÕd
enjoyed it very much.

ÒNo, I... I liked it.Ó I chirped out quickly.

She stopped for a moment, turning herself in her chair so that she was truly
facing me. She reached her hands out and took hold of mine. ÒPaul, I want
you... I need you to tell me the truth.Ó

I could see the look of concern that had overtaken her face, and I felt as
though I needed to tell her everything. ÒWell... the truth is...Ó I began,
Ò... that I liked it.Ó I saw her face soften a bit, her brow relax.

ÒPaul, some people might not think that...Ó She started to say.

ÒI know, Mom.Ó I interrupted her again. Ò I donÕt care about that, Ò I said.
ÒItÕs just... well...Ó

ÒWhat is it, Paul?Ó

ÒWell I was just worried that you would think I was, you know, weird or
something.Ó I said.

ÒFor what?Ó She asked with relief.

ÒWell... Ôcause I liked it. Alot.Ó

Mom squeezed my hands tightly in hers, sitting herself up in her chair.
ÒHoney, I want to tell you some things.Ó She said. ÒWhen we first started
out on this trip, I felt as though I had failed.Ó I looked at her again  and
saw her eyes becoming a little glassy with sadness. ÒNo, wait. I felt as
though IÕd let you down, let us down. And I promised myself that I wasn't
going to let that happen a second time.Ó

I wanted to say something, but I could tell that she wanted me to just
listen for a minute.

ÒYou know, I can remember back when I was your age.Ó She said. ÒI remember
feeling so curious about things... like sex... but in the house that I grew
up in, you didnÕt talk about such things. I remember  feeling so guilty
inside... about the way I felt and the things I used to think about. And I
never had the courage to ask anyone about those feelings.Ó She looked at me
and smiled. ÒSo... I grew up, and met  your father, and did what I felt like
I was supposed to do.Ó

As she talked, she began to get a far away look in her eyes, almost as if
she was talking to herself instead of me. I sat quietly in fascination as I
listened to her, feeling as though I was listening to her deepest  thoughts.

ÒI loved your father very much, you know.Ó She said looking back to me with
a smile. I smiled back at her as I could tell that she'd meant what she
said. ÒBut even though I felt closer to him than anyone IÕd  ever known, I
still felt as though I had to be someone that he wanted me to be. I know
that's not true, but I felt that way none the less.Ó

She paused for a moment.

ÒAnd then you came along.Ó She said, squeezing my hands again and letting
out a big smile. Her eyes seemed to light up a bit as she said it, then
calmed as she continued. ÒWell, ummm, after your father  passed away...Ó She
paused once again, before looking at me with a serious look in her eye, Ò...
I promised myself that I would make sure that things would be different for
you. I didnÕt want you to feel as  though you were ever ashamed... of being
you.Ó She stopped herself, and I could see a tear beginning to well in her
eye.

Ò I understand, Mom.Ó I said, even though much of her meaning was lost to
me. I wanted to make her happy, to take away her pain and knew that even
though I didnÕt fully understand, it might make her feel  better.

She pulled me close to give me a hug, whispering., ÒI love you.Ó in my ear.
I told her that I loved her too, making her laugh just a bit, and wipe away
the tear from her eye. We heard the dryer buzz in alarm  that our clothes
were finished, breaking our embrace. It startled us both a bit and we jump
simultaneously, laughing at our own reaction. ÒCome on, let's fold the
clothesÓ Mom said pulling me up as we stood.

We stood at a counter, folding the warm, soft clothes into a pile. I felt
really close to my mother at that moment, as If she'd really shared a part
of herself with me that day. And it was then, as before, that I  decided to
ask her a question, feeling more comfortable that whatever it was, she would
understand.

ÒMom, do you masturbate?Ó I asked.

She never stopped folding the laundry,  just smiled sheepishly and said,
ÒSometimes.Ó

Chapter Six: Midnight Show

It had begun to lightly drizzle outside as we headed back to the camper.
Along the way, we passed by the street where we had seen the antique shop.
Mom hesitantly approached the store, relaxing only after  seeing the
ÔClosedÕ sign on the door. When I asked her why she was so hesitant, she
only replied that she looked like a mess and didnÕt want to make a bad first
impression to the owner, especially if she was  going to ask for work.
Hidden in the corner of the front window was a small, hand written sign
saying, ÒHelp wanted, inquire within.Ó

ÒTomorrow.Ó Mom said, taking my hand and heading us back on our way.

We reached the camper, taking a few minutes to just sit inside and figure
out what to do with the rest of the dreary looking day. My mother cautiously
began to unpack a few of the boxes, storing away some of  the essentials
that weÕd need. It appeared that we might be in the camper for a while, and
I think it was her way of making it, and herself, a little more comfortable
with the idea. I tried to keep out of her way  more than anything, sitting
on the bed and reading a little as she worked. It rained most of that
afternoon and into the evening, never hard, but just enough to keep us
cooped inside of the camper. It was after  weÕd had a little dinner, eating
up what little remained from the small fridge, and sat down to relax when my
mother said, ÒI need to clean up, wash my hair at least, if IÕm going to
look for work tomorrow. You  need a bath, too.Ó

I hadnÕt thought of it before, but it had now been nearly five full days
that weÕd been on the road without a real bath.

ÒOut on the back side of the market, I found a well pump that appears to
work. It may be a bit crude, but we are going to bathe tonight.Ó She
announced. I didnÕt bother to question or complain, knowing it  would be a
loosing battle.

I watched from the camper window as she made her way to the pump, cranking
up and down on itÕs handle until the water began flow. She washed her hair,
standing bent at the waist with her head under the  pump, finally rinsing
her long hair as she pumped the handle awkwardly. When she'd finished
squeezing out the water from her hair, wrapping it in a towel, she filled a
small bucket with the water and walked  back to the camper.

ÒYour turnÓ., she said as she opened the door. She had a slight grin on her
face as she'd said it, which I was to figure out the minute IÕd stuck my
head under the pump and gave the handle a pull. The fresh  well water was
freezing cold, spilling down over my head and shoulder, sending a tremendous
chill through me. I couldnÕt tell for sure, but I could swear I heard her
laughing as she watched me from the  camper. I nearly screamed out loud at
the shock of it, and my feet began to do a little dance as I scrubbed the
shampoo into my hair as quickly as I could.

ÒInvigorating, huh?Ó She said with a laugh as I opened the camper door.

She laughed even more as all I managed was a scowl at her for not warning
me. She was standing in her nightgown, drying her hair with a towel as I
walked in.

ÒIÕm going to step outside. There's a washcloth in the bucket, you can use
it to give yourself a towel bath. Okay?Ó

ÒOkay.Ó I replied.

ÒLet me know when your finished.Ó

ÒOkay, Mom.Ó I said, waiting for her to close the door behind her before
stripping down. I washed quickly, the cold water from the bucket having
nearly the same effect as the pump water. When I finished, I  threw on a
pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt that my mother had unpacked for me
earlier.

ÒOkay.Ó I hollered out of the window to her, letting her know she could come
in. I climbed into the small bed and huddled under the covers to break my
chill for a while, watching my mother as she brushed  her hair. It was still
fairly early in the evening and I decided read a little to pass the time
away.

After a while, Mom crawled into the bed next to me, announcing that she was
ready to go to bed. She wanted to get up early in the morning to get herself
prepared to visit the antique shop. She lay in the  bed for a while, her
head resting on her pillow and her eyes closed, while I sat up next to her
reading my book.

Or attempting to read, I must admit. As I sat there, trying to read, but yet
finding myself listening to my mother as she drifted off to sleep, I was
becoming more and more distracted, and after realizing that IÕd  been
staring at the same page for more than 15 minutes, I put down the book and
turned off the light. I slid myself down under the covers and closed my
eyes, only to find that I couldnÕt sleep. I began to  think about my mother
and what weÕd talked about that morning.

And as you might have guessed, the more I thought about it, the hornier I
became.. Pretty soon, I was sporting a hard on and could think of only one
thing. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought  of what she'd
said and of how... accepting of the idea she'd felt. Tonight, I thought, I
was going to be bold. I would be as my mother wanted, unashamed of how I
felt and what I wanted. And with my  newfound sense of courage, I gently
slipped down the sweat pants which I was still wearing and slowly reached
for the washcloth that was laying on the counter above my head.

Once again, the mere notion that I was going to jerk off as I lay in bed
with my mother had me tremendously excited. Not wanting to wake her though,
I slowly slid my fingers down and around my little dick  and slowly began to
stroke itÕs soft skin.  The feeling was incredible, and coupled with the
excitement I felt, for the first time I noticed the droplets of lubrication
that began to drip from the tip of my cock. I  traced my finger over it,
feeling the almost baby oil smoothness of it and how incredible it felt as I
smeared the slippery substance over the tip of my cock head. I was totally
engrossed in this new sensation  when my mother stirred in her sleep. She
rolled herself toward me, her hand coming to rest along the inner part of my
upper arm and her forehead resting against my shoulder. I could feel her
breath on my  arm as she slept, and her fingers gently resting along soft
skin under my arm. I didnÕt want to wake her up, but on the other hand I
didnÕt want to stop, and I slowly kept swirling the pre cum over my cock. I
tried  my best to remain as still as possible but couldnÕt hold back the
feeling that was rapidly growing in my cock. It was going to be now or never
I thought, and let my fingers slip down and around the shaft of my  dick. My
cock twitched at the touch, oozing another drop of pre cum out as I began to
pump itÕs skin slowly up and down.

I couldnÕt help my breathing from growing stronger as I began to near my
orgasm, my fingers pumping faster and faster, and my chest began to rise and
fall heavily as I felt the surge begin in my balls. With  my other hand, I
gently lifted the covers from my stomach in preparation for the impending
release.

Just as I felt my balls relinquish their hold on my load, and the cum begin
to gush from my pumping cock, I felt the deep warm breath of my mother along
arm. I was coming, and coming hard and yet I  became aware that my mother
was breathing hard as well, and her fingers, which had been resting softly
on my arm were now gripping it firmly. The sensation of her grip, and the
thought that she was  somehow aware and excited by what was happening only
made me come even more. And just as suddenly, as I was finished pumping the
last drop from my cock, my mother took a long, deep breath and  then rolled
back over to her other side. I just kept pumping on my cock, becoming
mesmerized by the post orgasmic feeling and not wanting it to end.

Eventually my breathing began to slow, and I wanted to do nothing more than
to let myself be overcome with blissful sleep. But I began to worry of the
mess it would make if I didnÕt clean myself before  falling asleep, and so I
gently wiped the cum from my stomach and penis with the still moist
washcloth. And as I let the washcloth drop to the floor beside the bed and
closed my eyes, I slowly drifted off to  sleep to thoughts of masturbation,
and my mothers touch.

And it would be to these same thoughts that I would find myself awakened
later that night as well. I donÕt know how long it was that IÕd been asleep,
but it felt as though it was late in the night. I was stirred  from my sleep
by a faint and almost distant sound, a soft but discernible moaning noise. I
didnÕt open my eyes immediately, just lay in my bed listening to the almost
rhythmic hum that had awakened me  when I began to realize that my mother
was moving.  I began to sense the motion was coming from my mothers arm as
it seemed to swirl, gently brushing along my side as it moved.

Keeping very still, I slowly opened my eyes, turning my head gently to see
what it was that she was doing. She was laying on her back with her knees up
and spread open wide. The blanket which had been  covering us both had come
off of her legs, gathering in the space between our legs, and exposing her
to the night air. Her nightgown was pulled up, folded at her waist,
revealing the smooth skin of her thighs  in the dim light. Her arm was
nestled in toward her crotch and I could just barely make out the sight of
her hand as it swirled in small circles between her legs. She was breathing
very hard, letting out the  short and soft moans that had awakened me.

Although IÕd never seen it before, it became apparent to me that she was
masturbating herself, and was nearing an orgasm. I became instantly hard, my
little cock straining at the thought of seeing my mother  masturbating. I
watched in total fascination as she rubbed between her legs, and although I
couldnÕt see what it was that she was doing, my mind began to whirl as I
imagined her fingers rubbing her pussy.  She was beginning to rub faster and
faster, when suddenly she stopped; bringing her hand to her face and shoving
her fingers into her mouth and then, just as quickly, dropping them back
down between her  legs to continue her rubbing. And just when I thought I
couldnÕt get more excited, I watched as her body began to clench and
stiffen.

Her hand became nearly a blur as she sped her motions and with her other
hand reached up to her chest and began to pinch at her nipple, right through
her nightgown. She was coming, and it was more than I could stand. I began
to come as well, shooting stream after stream of hot sticky cum in my sweat
pants, without ever laying a hand on myself. I desperately fought the urge
to grab hold of my cock and  pump it with the energy and excitement that my
mother was as she pleased herself. Her breathing had crested at a near pant
as she came, slight tremors shaking her as she continued to rub at her
pussy. I  could begin to smell her aroma as the scent of her orgasm filled
the air. I was in heaven.

After a few minutes, her hand having slowed itÕs massaging to a slow deep
rub, her leg began to lean down across mine as her body went limp, spreading
herself open she she came down from her orgasm.  My pecker was still rock
hard and I worried that her leg might brush against it, uncovering my faux
sleep. But slowly, she stretched her legs out, sliding her thigh down along
mine until her legs were straight,  then rolling over on her side away from
me with a deep sigh. I remained still, well after she had fallen asleep
before pulling down my sweat pants and masturbating one more time. I came
almost  immediately as my head still swam in the sights and sounds that IÕd
witnessed. Only then did I clean myself once again, eventually falling
asleep exhausted from the excitement.

Chapter Seven: Charlie

Mom stood nervously outside of the antique shop door, looking at the small
dust covered ÔHelp WantedÕ sign and squeezing my hand tightly. I looked at
her and smiled, trying to bolster her confidence.

ÒDo you want me to stay outside?Ó I asked.

She looked at me with a nervous smile, and I could tell she was trying to
read my expression. Squeezing my hand a little tighter, she said, Ò No,
we'll go in together. We're a team, right?Ó

ÒRight!Ó I replied, with a laugh and a smile. Even though I knew she'd said
it for me, I had already decided to make myself scarce. I knew that she
would have a better chance of getting a job without having  me tagging
along, and we desperately needed for something good to happen and soon.

The small bells hanging over the door chimed loudly as Mom opened the door,
stepping into the tightly packed shop. It was obvious from the outside that
the shop had been a small house at one time,  converted at some point into a
store, and it seemed a bit strange as we began to look around, feeling as if
weÕd walked into an old home instead of a store. There were several small
rooms, each filled with  antiques; chairs, tables, desks, lamps; it seemed
as though every nook and cranny had something tucked inside.

ÒOh my.Ó I heard my mother whisper to herself, staring around wide eyed. She
had always enjoyed these kinds of places, her heart skipping a beat as she
began to look at some of the items for sale. To me, it  looked more like an
old ladies house that hadnÕt been cleaned in quite a while; most of the
furniture looked dusty and ... well, old. My mothers hand gently slipped
from mine as she began to wander through  the shop, looking more closely at
the furniture but also expecting to see the shop keeper at any moment. We
walked around for quite some time but no one seemed to be around, as if the
shop were empty. I  was about to step into another small room toward the
rear of the house when I realized that it was a small kitchen. The back door
was open and as I looked around the corner of the door frame, I saw a
someone. It was a small woman, facing away from me and leaning over a table,
scrubbing furiously on an old cash register. I felt a bit suprised, as if
IÕd walked in somewhere I shouldnÕt be, and quietly  stepped back out of the
room.

I quietly found my mother and pointed to the room where IÕd seen the woman
working. My mother walked to the door quietly and slowly stepped into the
kitchen. The woman was still hard at work, her hands  covered with large
rubber gloves and lathered from the cleaner she was using. I could now see
why she hadnÕt heard us enter the shop, as she had on a pair of earphones
from a small walkman type radio,  and was lightly humming away to the music.
After standing for a moment in the doorway, Mom gently knocked on the door
frame, in an effort to attract the woman's attention. The knocking was
enough to  cause the woman to pause, and as she turned her head toward us,
seeing my mother standing in the doorway, she jumped in a startled manner.

ÒOh my gosh, IÕm so sorry!Ó My mother said, feeling a bit embarrassed. The
small woman clutched at her smock covered chest, and slowly laughed at her
own suprise. Seeing her laugh brought a smile and a  small chuckle from my
mother as the woman pulled the earphone from her head.

ÒIÕm sorry, I didnÕt mean to startle you.Ó Mom said again.

ÒNo, no. IÕm the one to apologize.Ó The woman answered. Ò I guess I was just
a little pre-occupied.Ó She pulled off the large gloves and tossed them onto
the table, and grabbed a towel to clean her hands.

ÒPlease, donÕt stop what you were doing for me.Ó Mom said apologetically.

ÒNo, itÕs all right, I wasn't getting very far with this anyway.Ó The woman
said. ÒThese brass polishers never seem to work that well.Ó

ÒOh,Ó Mom replied, eyeing the old cash register. ÒIs that an old National?Ó

ÒWell, yes it is.Ó The shopkeeper replied. Ò You seem to know your
registers. IÕm afraid itÕs rather tarnished though, deep in the lattice of
the brass.Ó

Mom stood for a minute, and a small wry smile crept across her face. ÒIf
you'd like, I know an old trick for polishing up that brass?Ó She said.

The woman looked at her in a puzzled manner, with a smile growing on her
face. She finished wiping her hands, but stood still holding the rag between
her hands. She looked to be about the same age as  my mother, and in many
ways the two looked a bit alike. She had long black curly hair, nearly down
to her waist, and even though she was wearing her heavy smock, I could see
that she had a rather petite  figure. She seemed to stare deeply into my
mothers eyes as the small grew on her face, a soft loving look as if she
knew her from somewhere before. When I looked at my mother, she seemed to
have the  same look as well, an almost fascinated gaze as the two women
greeted each other with their eyes.

Mom nervously broke her gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed by her own actions,
and then said, ÒI could show you, if you'd like?Ó as she looked back up at
the woman.

 The woman looked at my mother with growing curiosity, and then turned her
attention toward me, watching me as I stood nervously in the doorway next to
my mother. She looked back to my mother and with  a beaming smile asked,
ÒWould you like a cup of coffee?Ó

Mom just grinned back at her, then held out her hand.
ÒCarla, Carla Demond.Ó

ÒItÕs a pleasure to meet you, Carla.Ó The woman said, gently shaking my
mothers hand. ÒAnd what's your name, young man?Ó She asked me, hold out her
hand.

ÒIÕm Paul.Ó I replied shyly.

ÒWell, itÕs a pleasure to meet you too, Paul. IÕm Charlotte, but YOU can
call me Charlie!Ó She said with a jump in her voice. I couldnÕt tell you
what it was about her, but I began to understand at that moment,  as
Charlotte stooped down to shake my hand and looked softly into my eyes, why
my mother had been staring at her. Her gaze seemed almost hypnotic, her eyes
penetrating deep into me and I began to  appreciate just how incredibly
beautiful she was. When I finally looked back to my mother, she returned my
look silently, as if to confirm my feelings.

ÒIÕm going to fix us some coffee, would you like something? I think I have
some orange juice?Ó She asked. I looked to my mother, wondering if I should
accept. She gave me the nod and I replied, ÒYes,  please.Ó

ÒOkay then!Ó She said, giving my mother a small wink as she turned and
walked over to the kitchen cabinet.

ÒIÕm afraid I donÕt get too many customers these days, IÕm glad to have the
company.Ó Charlotte opened the cabinet doors and found some coffee, then
opened another and pulled out some cups. Mom  walked over to the table and
looked at the old cash register as Charlotte filled the coffee machine with
the coffee and water.

ÒI love your shop.Ó My mother spoke as she examined the machine.

ÒWell, thank you very much. IÕm afraid that itÕs a bit messy, I...Ó
Charlotte turned and watched my mother as she looked at the register. Mom
noticed her pause and looked to see Charlotte staring at her.

ÒI... IÕm sorry.Ó My mother apologized again. ÒItÕs just that I haven't seen
one of these in... well, let's just say longer than I care to admit.Ó

ÒNo need to apologize.Ó Charlotte said with a knowing smile.

ÒDo you mind?Ó My mother asked, glancing down at the small jar of brass
cleaner that sat on the table.

ÒPlease!Ó Charlotte replied, looking at me with a funny expression of wonder
and a wink. Mom looked around the table, which was covered with assorted
cleaners and rags. She picked up an empty bowl, one  that had obviously been
used for paints or cleaners, and walked over to the sink. Charlotte stepped
out of the way and over toward me. She looked at me with a big smile and all
I could do was shrug my  shoulders in return. I had no idea what my mother
was up to, but like Charlotte, I was becoming very curious. After rinsing
out the bowl, mom set it down on the counter and looked around the kitchen.
She bit  her lip slightly, then walked over and opened the cabinet where
Charlotte had gotten the coffee.  She poked her head around for a minute,
then reaching deep into the back, pulled out a half used bottle of  vinegar.
She poured some into the bowl, then carefully took the bowl and placed it
into the small microwave that sat on the counter by the refrigerator.

Both Charlotte and I looked at her, then at each other with a smile and look
of curious fascination. After a minute, the microwave chimed and Mom
carefully pulled out the bowl of hot vinegar. The smell of  the vinegar
began to fill the room as Mom gently carried the bowl over to the table,
setting it down next to the register. She sifted through a small pile of
rags sitting on the table and found a clean corner of  an old torn up
T-shirt, dipping it into bowl.

Charlotte and I both stepped closer to watch, as Mom slowly began to wipe
down the tarnished  finish of the old register. To my amazement, the dirty,
dark finish of the metal seemed to magically disappear,  leaving a trail of
brilliant sparkling brass where the rag had wiped.

ÒWow!Ó I uttered in amazement. Charlotte said nothing, only stared in equal
fascination. Mom just kept wiping, pausing only to dip the rag back into the
vinegar every so often. I looked at Charlotte and saw  her mouth agape, and
a smile begin to grow on her face. Mom finally looked up at the two of us as
we gawked at her work, and she began to smile as well.

ÒTHAT is amazing!Ó Charlotte finally managed to blurt out.

ÒItÕs an old trick I learned from my grandmother.Ó Mom said, still working
her way around the cash register.

ÒMay I?Ó Charlotte asked, eager to try it for herself. She took the rag from
my mother and sat down in a chair along side the table. As she wiped the
brass clean, she began to laugh, thoroughly enjoying  herself. ÒBrilliant!
Absolutely Brilliant!Ó She sang out.

Mom stepped back, leaning against the kitchen counter, and smiled, feeling
delighted at what she'd done. Charlotte rose from her chair and walked over
to my mother and hugged her. ÒThank you. You have  no idea how much work
you've just saved me.Ó She poured two cups of coffee and turned to my
mother. ÒWon't you please come have a seat with me?Ó

The two walked into the next room, sitting together on a small couch by a
coffee table. I couldnÕt help myself, having to try this magic trick just
once for myself.

ÒCarla, you didnÕt come here to shop, did you?Ó Charlotte asked hesitantly.

ÒWas it that obvious?Ó Mom replied. Charlotte didnÕt say anything, just
smiled and gave Mom the opportunity to continue.

ÒI saw the sign in your window and I was hoping you might still be looking
for some help.Ó Mom said, her voice sounding a bit nervous.

ÒThe sign!Ó Charlotte mumbled in suprise. ÒOh my. ItÕs... IÕm sorry. I've
had that little sign in the window for so long that IÕd nearly forgotten
about it.Ó Her smile slipped from her face.

ÒOh.Ó Mom answered, trying to hide her disappointment.

There was a long pause of silence, but not one of distance. The two women,
my mother and this mysteriously beautiful woman, just stared into each
others eyes as if they were talking but no words were  spoken. Charlotte's
eyes softened, sensing the let down in Mom's voice. She turned herself on
the couch to face toward my mother, and perceptively asked, ÒYouÕre in
trouble, aren't you?Ó

My mother tried to look away, I could tell that she was desperately trying
to be strong, but the welling of her tears began to uncover her anxiety. I
watched painfully as the tears crept from her eyes, bring my  own in
response to her pain. Charlotte had noticed them as well as the room began
to fill with an almost palpable aura of sorrow.

ÒOh, sweetheart.Ó Charlotte spoke, her voice becoming choked with her own
tears as she watched my mother try to fight back the shame of crying in
front of a stranger. ÒOh, honey... ItÕs okay. Let it out..Ó

Her words of sincere sympathy were enough to relieve my mother of her guilt
and shame, and she began to openly cry. Charlotte reached out to embrace my
mother, hugging her tightly, and whispered to  her, ÒOh, you poor thing.
What has happened to you?Ó As she gently held my mother, stroking her as a
mother would a child, she looked at me with tear filled eyes and gave a
gentle reassuring smile.

ÒThat's it, let it out...Ó she whispered to my mother. I donÕt know what it
was about this woman, this stranger that we had just met, but in that moment
I felt trusting of her and was comfortable watching her hold  my mother,
easing her pain.

My mother began to apologize once more, regaining a little composure, but
Charlotte would have none of it. ÒNo, no honey. You need to let this out.Ó

 I suppose my mother felt Charlotte's comforting presence as well, as she
began to tell her of our failed journey.

ÒOh, you poor thing...Ó she whispered. She held my mother till she felt that
she'd had her cry, pointing to me over my mothers shoulder to a small box of
tissues as my mother began to regain herself.

ÒAnd you've been sleeping in your truck, all of this time?Ó She asked.
Charlotte turned to me, as my mother dried her eyes. I felt compelled to
tell the truth, and nodded my answer to her. My mother looked at  me with
her swollen eyes and I felt as though I had done something wrong, revealing
to Charlotte just how desperate our plight was.

ÒCharlotte, I...Ó My mother began.

ÒHush, now.Ó Charlotte said with a smile. She turned to me again and asked,
ÒPaul, will that old truck make one more trip?Ó I didnÕt quite understand
what she meant, but I shrugged my shoulders and replied,  ÒI... I think so?Ó

ÒOkay then. Paul, when your mother is ready, I want you to help her drive
that truck back to this house.Ó She stated boldly.

My mother turned to her in suprise, not sure what to say.
ÒO... Okay?Ó I answered her.

ÒBut...Ó Mom started to say, but was halted as Charlotte stopped her.

ÒNot a word.Ó She said, ÒBack above the garage is a small studio. ItÕs
filled with some things that I've been meaning to clean out anyway. The two
of you will stay there.Ó

ÒCharlotte, I... I can't pay you...Ó My mother began again.

ÒLet's not worry about that right now...Ó Charlotte replied, Ò... we'll just
consider it part of your salary.Ó

Mom's eyes lit up at Charlotte's  words, at she was at a loss for words.

ÒI can't pay you much but... well, we'll have plenty of time to discuss that
after we get you two a proper place to call home, okay?Ó Charlotte had a
wide grin as she looked at my mother, waiting for a  response. Slowly my
mother began to smile, then together the two women began to laugh.

ÒExcellent!Ó Charlotte belted out, returning my mothers hug as the two
laughed.

Looking back at it now, I realize that it was one of those rare instances of
instant friendship, one that would end up lasting a lifetime. For both my
mother and myself.