SANDRA

My mom is a single mom. She's raised my sister and me since we were eight and six years old respectively. I realize the image of a single mom raising two kids alone is somewhat less than ideal. However, my mom was different. She was amazing. She also had a lot of financial help and didn't have to work. She was able to focus on maintaining a nice, clean home and raising us.

In the ten years my mom and dad had together, they managed to buy a house and have two children. The house came first. My dad worked in an aircraft assembly plant and had a good income. Good enough that my mom didn't have to work. They bought the house before they were married and dad spent time painting and fixing small problems before they tied the knot. The house was a two-story, three-bedroom bungalow in a small neighborhood where the houses were further apart than you see today. The bedrooms were upstairs and shared a single bathroom. Downstairs was a parlor, kitchen, dining room, small powder room and the single garage.

One of the major projects my dad did was to replace the shower over tub configuration in the bathroom on the second floor with a slightly larger, step-in shower with clear glass doors.

My sister, Janet, arrived two years after they married and I, Bobby, came two years later. For the next six years my dad was a dynamo outside the house installing and maintaining landscaping and my mother just as dynamic in furnishing and maintaining the interior.

When I was six years old and two weeks before my parent's tenth anniversary, my dad leaned against a railing thirty-five feet above the assembly floor at work and fell over when it gave way. He bounced off an airplane under construction and landed on the cement floor. They rushed him to the hospital where he never regained consciousness. He died three weeks later.

The company paid the two years pay insurance policy quickly and offered my mother a financial settlement without admitting responsibility. Mom delayed accepting the offer until after the funeral. Fortunately, at the funeral, the union representative approached my mom, counseled her not to sign anything and recommended a lawyer for her to see.

On the advice of the lawyer, mom refused every attempt to settle and went to court for a wrongful death civil suit. Mom's lawyer presented a case where dad's employer had knowingly skimped on necessary maintenance to save money, including the weakened railing. Janet and I sat behind mom during the trial and I believe our presence had something to do with the result. Both the judge and jury were sympathetic. They awarded mom an amount they calculated to equal the total income my dad would have earned if he had lived, including assumed wage increases, bonuses, pension and social security. Then they tacked on treble damages for the deliberate failure to maintain a safe working environment.

The company threatened to appeal the judgment but mom's lawyer somehow negotiated a final settlement. Given the huge amount, the lawyer reduced his fee to twenty-five percent and assisted my mom in placing the money with a reputable investment firm. Mom has been living comfortably on the earnings from that settlement ever since. She could afford almost any living arrangement she wanted but she chose to stay in the house she and dad shared. She wanted to keep the memories and the place where they happened.

Both mom and dad's parents were children of the sixties and seventies. It would be an understatement to categorize my grandparents as free spirited. My grandmother was at Woodstock in 1969 where she met my grandfather. It is a family legend that my father was conceived at the festival. My mother's parents were no less impetuous. The result was that both my parents were raised in casual environments; not quite free sex but not puritanical either. They were comfortable with incidental nudity, including skinny-dipping, but not flagrant exhibitionism.

My mother raised us in a similar manner. Between the three of us, an occasional glimpse of a tit, ass or penis was not a concern, especially with a single, shared bathroom. Over the next twelve years we shared the close quarters without guilt or embarrassment. The freedom we shared as children didn't moderate as we grew older. It was rare, but not unusual, for me or my sister to use the bathroom while the other was showering. Only my mother was more prudent. Only once do I remember her having to pee so badly that she used the toilet while I was in the shower. She was apologetic, stating she didn't think she could make it downstairs to the powder room. The steamed up glass shower door saved her any embarrassment and I thought nothing of it afterward. I think she was less concerned about sharing the bathroom with my sister.

By the time I was eighteen and a senior in high school, my sister had graduated and found a job at a car dealership. She continued to live at home to save money, she said, but I think it was easier for her to manage her social life if she couldn't entertain.

My high school senior trip was a bus trip to the city for a weekend of touring and theater on Saturday night. We left Friday after school and planned a two-night stay in a hotel, returning late Sunday afternoon. The trip consisted of fourteen guys, fourteen gals and two chaperons; Mr. Grant, the auto mechanic teacher and Ms. Pancoast, the typing teacher. The plan was to bunk two guys to a room and two gals to a room with Mr. Grant and Ms. Pancoast having their own private rooms.

During the four-hour drive, it became obvious to most of us that one or the other of the private rooms would be extraneous. Our chaperons seemed more interested in each other than with us. That encouraged the students to make alternate arrangements of their own. Soon each of the guys was repaired with a happy to oblige gal and they planned to exchange room keys after check-in. I took little interest in the rearrangement and I was ultimately paired with Cecilia. Cecilia changed her seat on the bus and sat next to me. I hardly knew her. I had seen her around school and thought she was kind of cute but I never fantasized about her. My sister filled that space.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked as she sat next to me.

"Absolutely," I responded hoping I exhibited more enthusiasm than I felt.

Later, John Clark, a linebacker on the football team, came down the aisle with a large box of condoms. He offered them to anyone who wanted them. I hesitated and Cecilia took three. I think Mr. Clark took six. Ms. Pancoast added two more. We didn't talk much but Cecilia held my hand for the rest of the drive.

At the hotel, everyone was handed a key to their room. Everyone exchanged information about what rooms they were assigned and went to their rooms. Ten minutes later, seven gals and seven guys were relocating. I stayed behind and waited. A few minutes later someone knocked on the door. When I opened it, Cecilia rolled her suitcase into the room and looked around.

"Nice room," she said. "Bigger than the room I was assigned. You have two queen-sized beds. Ours were just doubles." She looked in the bathroom. "Nicer," she exclaimed. "No tub. Big shower. Cool."

It was getting late. The plan was for everyone to get a good night's sleep and meet at eight in the morning for breakfast. I was pretty sure most everyone else were unwrapping condoms and testing the bedsprings.

I didn't know what to say. "I think we should get ready for bed," came out. "That sounded stupid," I thought.

"Do you want to go first?" asked Cecilia.

"No. Why don't you go first," I answered.

Cecilia placed her suitcase on the end of a bed and removed a small kit that I assumed contained her toothbrush and other necessary items. Next to it she placed a white nightgown. I didn't appear too short but it wasn't too long either. It wasn't transparent nor was it opaque. I could see the muted pattern of the bedspread through parts of it. She closed and put her suitcase on the floor, kicked off her shoes, picked up the items on the bed and went into the bathroom. She closed the door but I didn't hear her lock it. A few moments later I heard the shower start.

I took advantage of Cecilia being in the bathroom to get a few items out of my suitcase. I hadn't thought ahead and I hadn't brought anything that could pass for pajamas. When Cecilia opened the bathroom door, I was standing barefoot, wearing my jeans and a tee shirt and holding my toiletries kit.

I knew Cecilia was cute but she was a knockout in her nightgown. It came to mid thigh and was almost see through in all the right places. I could just make out the pale circles around her nipples and a darker triangle at the top of her thighs. She had let her hair down and it hung to below her shoulder blades. I stood breathless. Han Solo frozen in carbonite could breathe easier.

"Your turn," she said casually, pretending to be unaware of my paralysis.

I managed a weak, "Thanks," as I walked comatose to the bathroom. Inside, I looked in the mirror, slapped myself a couple of times to wake up and took a shower. When I came out I was freshly shaved, orally minted and wearing my jeans with a fresh pair of briefs underneath. Cecilia was sitting on the room side of the bed near the door facing the other bed. I didn't notice it at the time but the condoms were on the small chest between the beds. I walked to the far side of the other bed, turned down the covers and sat on the sheet. I pushed my jeans off, deftly lifted the covers and slid into bed without exposing myself below the waist. I lay down with my back to her.

"Good night," I said.

Cecilia got off her bed and sat on the side of my bed. "Do you really want to just go to sleep?" she asked.

I rolled over to see her. I must have looked pretty pathetic.

"Listen," she ordered.

I didn't hear anything but I pretended to listen.

"That sucking sound you hear is everyone else fucking their brains out. I bought this outfit just for you. I saved for weeks to pay for this trip and I worked my ass off to get this room with you and you just want to go to sleep? I thought you'd be overjoyed. Is there something wrong with you? Are you gay?"

"Crap. I've really screwed this up," I thought. "You...you what?" I stammered.

"I think you heard me well enough the first time," she countered.

"Cecilia," I said. "I'm really sorry. I've really screwed this up. Honestly, I never imagined this trip was anything except what it was advertised as, a senior trip. I feel like an idiot. I'm a fuckin' imbecile. I believed we were just paired so someone else could be together. I thought you were of the same mind. I wouldn't, I couldn't, make a move on you. It's a matter of respect for women. It's how I was raised. Can you forgive me? Can we start over?"

I could see her expression soften somewhat. "That's better," she said. "Where do you want to start?"

"Well, we've already blown the shower scene." Cecilia laughed quietly. "How about you stand up next to the bed? I want the full experience, the total package."

Cecilia smiled and stood next to the bed. I sat on the bed, cross-legged, and stared at her. She looked a little uneasy. I tried to keep the hunger out of my eyes without success. She was incredible. I wasn't a virgin, but I'd never experienced the captivating effect of a beautiful woman presenting herself to me so honestly. I smiled at her and motioned for her to turn around. She did and looked into my eyes when she finished.

"More slowly," I whispered as I motioned for her to turn around again. She turned again, almost painfully slowly. I savored every detail as she turned. I felt weak as I followed the profile of her perfect breasts through the fabric of her nightgown and then the fullness of her cheeks as the fabric bumped out and fell over them.

When she was done, I licked my lips. Cecilia licked her lips in return. I moved my hands as if I were holding my breasts and Cecilia moved her hands under her breasts and lifted them in my direction. We had passed some milestone. I could sense the energy in the room. I could smell the soft aroma of arousal. I leaned forward and turned down the rest of the bedcovers as an invitation. Cecilia moved to remove her nightgown.

"Leave it on," I said gently.

She climbed into the bed next to me and we stretched out together. I used my hand to move her hair behind her ear and let it fall slowly through my fingers. "I don't deserve you," I said, "after the way I treated you."

"Maybe, but I deserve you. You'll just have to make do," she said.

She leaned in and we kissed. It was a first kiss. A test. Cecilia leaned back, licked her lips and came in for another, more passionate kiss. This was the real thing. A kiss for the ages. The kiss we would remember. I held her tightly as we kissed. Our arms slid under each other and our bodies pressed tightly together as we kissed once, twice and then a third time. My lips slid down to her neck and I kissed her below her ear. She moaned slightly so I kissed her twice more. My hand was down her back and pressing her nightgown into her ass. Her hand was under my briefs holding against my bare skin.

We came apart. I kissed her lips, her nose and her forehead. She rolled on her back and my hand slid up her abdomen to her breast. I felt the weight of her breast in my hand and I could feel her nipple harden as I used my finger to circle it through the nightgown. She pushed me on my back and did the same with her finger on my nipple.

"I think its time for me take this off," she said.

"Let me do it," I offered.

We kneeled on the bed facing each other. I reached for the hem of her nightgown and slowly lifted up her body. She lifted her arms as I slid it over her head and off. I took her cheeks in my hands and kissed her lips before I moved down to kiss her neck. She sensed where I was headed and arched her back as I kissed first one breast and then the other. She put her thumbs in the waistband of my briefs and pushed them down on my hips. I lay back and lifted my legs so she could move them off completely. I lay there as she gently held my personal record hard erection in her hand. The feeling was exquisite. I'd never experienced anything like it before. It wasn't the first time I'd had a girl touch me but it was the first time without rushing and without cramped quarters. Nobody was looking for us. Nobody would interrupt us. We had all the time and space in the world.

Maybe next time. We both felt the need. I needed to feel myself inside her and I knew she wanted me the same way. Cecilia straddled my hips, held my erection straight up and pressed her opening against the head of my cock. There is always a first time. The time you remember for the rest of your life. The one you want to repeat forever. I can't explain the overwhelming euphoria as Cecilia slid her warm body slowly down onto my erection. This was a religious experience. I understood why so many people invoke God when they have sex.

Cecilia leaned forward and kissed me as she ran her fingers through my hair. Her hair fell off her shoulders and onto my face, neck and shoulders. My hands held her shoulders and slid down to hold her hips. We stayed like that for long minutes. Neither of us wanted to disturb the aura of the first time.

Eventually Cecilia moved her hips slightly. I moved mine as well. "No," she whispered, "let me do it. I want to be selfish. Next time I'll do whatever you want."

She moved slowly. She moved rapidly. She moved up and down and all around. She arched her back and I caressed her breasts. She panted and cried. In the process she brought me to the edge.

"Cecilia," I said. "the condom. We didn't use one."

"Not this time," she said. "I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to feel you squirt everything even deeper. I want your cum to run out of me, down my legs and onto the floor when we finish. I want to feel like a real woman. Like a complete woman."

She moved just a little more and I felt her body stiffen and her vagina grab me hard as fluid leaked over my pubic hair and abdomen. I grabbed her hips tightly, pushed up into her as hard as I could and unleashed a flood of my own. I pumped six or seven times before I was done and she collapsed on top of me. I pushed her hair out of her face. She lifted her head and kissed me with a renewed passion. We rolled onto our sides with me still inside her and lay holding each other close as I slowly shrunk and slipped out of her.

I have no idea how long we lay together like that. Eventually, Cecilia climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She had her wish. I could see milky fluid running down her legs as she walked.

When she returned, she climbed into bed beside me. "Don't you have to pee?" she asked as she held my limp dick in her hand.

"Not yet," I answered.

"You know," she said as she continued to stroke my cock. "This is the best invention ever."

I looked at her. There was a joy in her eyes I'd never seen before with anyone. "That wasn't sex, was it?" I asked.

"No, it wasn't," she agreed. "I can't describe it but it was way more than sex."

We stayed that way until Cecilia managed to resurrect my erection. She used her hands and, as things began to show promise, she used her mouth. "Is that how I taste?" she asked.

"I don't know. I haven't tasted you yet," I answered.

"We may have to wait to answer that definitively. Right now I think there's more of you than of me. You seem ready. This time you're in charge. I only have one request. I want sex this time."

Sex is what we had. I played her clitoris with my fingers and my tongue. I slipped my fingers and my tongue into her as far as they would go. I nibbled her clit and she tongued and nibbled my cock and balls. I entered her on her back, on her side, from behind and on her knees. I had her in her mouth and between her tits. Finally, I had her in her ass. She loved it all. She came back for more every time. I lost count of the number of times her body stiffened, her toes curled and she screamed with renewed energy. When I finally came, I was in her mouth. I left everything I had in her mouth, on her lips, chin and breasts. I kissed her and licked her body. We slept in each others arms. We woke up, fucked and went to sleep again.

In the morning, we showered together, figured out how to have sex against the shower wall and washed again. We dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. There were still three condoms on the bedside shelf.

Most everyone was in the hotel dining room. Many were already feasting on the breakfast buffet. Mr. Clark arrived a half-hour late followed a discrete five minutes later by an unsteady Ms. Pancoast. During breakfast, I noticed Mr. Clark talking with John Clark. When I asked John later, he told me he was looking for more condoms. Mr. Clark earned the nickname, "Superman" that weekend and it stuck with him for the rest of the school year. I also think, one or two of my classmates considered a career teaching auto mechanics.

The rest of Saturday was a blur. Saturday night was a mess. Cecilia and I showered three times and slept even less. We changed beds sometime during the night when "the spot" became too large to avoid. Sunday morning, we packed for the trip home including the three condoms. I thought about giving them to Mr. Clark but reconsidered when Cecilia convinced me the "better late than never" joke might be more embarrassing than funny.

Cecilia sat with me in the back of the bus on the way home. We touched a lot. I considered asking her to sit on my lap for a short encore but deleted the thought since I knew we had something more that I didn't want to spoil.

Cecilia was an immediate favorite with my mother and sister. We were married two months after graduation. I was already working in the same aircraft assembly plant where my father had worked. My sister helped Cecilia get a job with the auto dealership.Cecilia's parents were not okay with us getting married. They assumed I came from a "broken" home and didn't want their only daughter to "marry down." Her dad was particularly adamant in his objection. He was clear that he didn't endorse our marriage nor would he attend, or pay for, the ceremony. He created sadness in Cecilia that bothered me more than I can describe.

My mother offered to pay for the wedding but Cecilia refused. She didn't want to anger her father any further. We were married in a small ceremony at city hall. Her mother attended the ceremony alone which helped Cecilia submerge the loss of her childhood dream wedding with the joy of our marriage. My mother hosted the small wedding party, bride, groom, three relatives and two witnesses, at an upscale restaurant. When we left the restaurant, I heard Cecilia whisper to her mother, "Tell dad I love him."

Cecilia and I had begun to save some money but we were far from a down payment or a security deposit on a decent place to live. My mother suggested that Cecilia and I live in the house with her and my sister. We could share my room and the addition of another person vying for bathroom time wouldn't be a significant problem.

The arrangement worked very well. Cecilia overcame her initial shyness in a couple of weeks and soon could be seen walking between the bathroom and our bedroom in only a towel or bra and panties. Within a month the towel and bra also disappeared. With another woman in the house about her own age, Janet also became less modest. She and Cecilia spent hours in Janet's room just talking about "girl stuff" according to Cecilia.

Soon, Janet dropped all pretenses and I saw her regularly leaving the bathroom in just her panties, without bra or embarrassment. On occasion, when I was waiting in the hall for my turn, she would hug me and say "good morning" with her naked breasts pressing against my equally naked chest as she exited the bathroom. I'm sure my mother noticed but she maintained the decorum we had established before Cecilia came to live with us.

Cecilia and I made good and frequent use of our bedroom. Sometimes we made love and sometimes we had sex. They were very different and we both knew which was which. We bought an additional set of sheets and changed them frequently. Most of our laundry consisted of stained bed clothing and equally stained underwear. We were unaware of it at the time but my mother and sister, would occasionally make a couple of cosmopolitans or margaritas and sit in the garage below our bedroom and toast us after every squeal or loud noise.

Use of the bathroom by multiple people for different purposes was common. Even more common than before Cecilia arrived. Cecilia was a frequent visitor when I was in the shower. She would often slip into the shower behind me after she finished peeing. I loved it and shower play became a regular feature of our time together.

One afternoon, in the spring after graduation, I was showering after work. It wasn't unusual for Cecilia to come into the shower with me if she was not at work. The door to the bathroom opened and someone used the toilet. The glass shower door was steamed up so I couldn't see who it was and, anyway, I didn't look. The shower door slid open and a lithe body slipped into the shower behind me. She ran her hands down my sides and over my hips. This was Cecilia's usual pattern so I leaned back into her to assist her efforts and maximize my enjoyment of her touching me. She reached around me with her left hand and took hold of my penis. My arousal was immediate and she stroked me gently. I looked down at the hand moving smoothly up and down my erection. The wrong hand! The wedding ring was missing!

I turned around quickly and exclaimed, "Janet, what the hell are you doing?"

"I've wanted to do this for a long time, years in fact," she said as she adjusted her grip on my deflated cock.

"But you're my sister and I'm married," I stammered out.

"True and true," she said.

"You can't do this. We can't do this. I can't do this. Cecilia will be furious."

"Actually," said Janet, "it was Cecilia's idea."

"What! Cecilia told you to get in the shower with me," I squawked.

"She suggested more than that," responded Janet.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. I can't imagine Cecilia suggesting anything like what you're saying. Stop what you're doing. We need to talk."

"Okay," she said sadly, "Come with me." Janet got out of the shower.

I turned off the shower and stepped out. I grabbed a towel as Janet exited the door and began to walk to her bedroom, naked and dripping water on the carpet. I followed, equally naked and dripping in spite of the towel I was holding. I looked nervously around as I walked. Janet paused and looked back to insure I was following her.

"Don't worry. Mom's gone shopping and won't be back for hours and if Cecilia comes home she promised not to disturb us."

"Shit," I thought. "What kind of conspiracies have these two women hatched without my knowing anything?"

Janet went into her bedroom and I followed. "Close the door and come sit on the bed with me," she ordered.

I did as she requested. Sitting on the bed with her, I tried not to look at her directly. She was naked in front of me for the first time and I knew if I began to admire her I would react inappropriately.

"You can look at me," she said. "Actually, I want you to look at me." She got up off the bed and stood in front of me. "Please," she said as she raised her arms and slowly turned around.

I looked and I lost control. My traitorous cock came to attention and saluted. I wondered if it could be tried for treason and consorting with the enemy. I tried to put that last thought out of my mind. That's not where I wanted to go, at least consciously.

"Sit and talk to me," I ordered. "Tell me how we got to this point. Tell me everything you and Cecilia talk about. Tell me everything."

"I don't know where to start," Janet said.

"Start at the beginning," I countered.

"Cecilia is the best thing that's ever happened to us. I've never felt as comfortable with anyone before as I am with her. She's kind, unassuming, humble, very funny and very sexy. We've become best friends, more than best friends."

I may have flinched a little imagining the implications of Janet's last sentence.

If Janet noticed, she didn't react. "You know," she continued, "Cecilia and I have spent hours together talking and getting to know each other. She constantly reminds me how much she loves you, how much she's given you her heart, soul and body. She means every word of it. I don't think she could lie about it. "I've told her I love you too. 'You love him and yet you've never given yourself to him like I have.' That's a direct quote. I'll never forget it."

I think I was stunned by her statement. I know Cecilia better than I know myself and I knew Janet was telling me the truth. Cecilia would definitely share her love and want others to feel what she felt. Except for that first night in the city, she didn't have a selfish thought or desire.

Janet continued, "Cecilia encouraged me to tell you how much I love you. She encouraged me to act on my love. She told me about you and her in the shower together. She described exactly how she came into the bathroom and got into the shower with you. She showed my how she used her hands from behind you and how you reacted. She told me you'd respond and how gentle you'd be. She knew you loved me as well and we'd never regret what happened. I spend weeks getting prepared, mentally and physically. I practiced with Cecilia and I strengthened my resolve. This afternoon I took the plunge. Only you screwed it up. I wanted you and you wanted to talk."

"Janet, I'm truly sorry. I seem to have a habit of screwing up with people I love. I don't have an excuse, only a possible reason. Mom always emphasized with me a respect for people, women in particular. My reaction comes from that respect for you. I think I'm missing the same respect for your feelings. When I'm faced with your genuine love, I'm surprised and I react without thinking. I need to fix that. Cecilia has been a great teacher and you can help as well."

"Does that mean you'll make love to me?" Janet asked hopefully.

"Probably," I said, "but at the risk of disappointing you further, not right now. I need to have a discussion with Cecilia and probably both of you together. Can you understand that?"

"I do," she answered. "I'm a little disappointed but very hopeful." She scooted closer to me on the bed, leaned in and kissed me.

Janet and I have exchanged hundreds of kisses over the years but never a kiss like that one. The kiss was full of love and promise. The kiss ended and she leaned back, looked at me, leaned in and kissed me again. She took my hand and placed it on her breast as she kissed me. She held the kiss and my hand longer than I thought necessary.

"Janet, don't," I said.

"I'm not. I just needed some token to keep with me while I wait for you. I hope you don't mind," she said.

"I understand." I kissed her again and squeezed her breast without her help. I leaned in and kissed her breast as well. I left her sitting on her bed with a tear on her cheek. I hoped it was a tear of joy and not disappointment. I left the towel in Janet's room and walked down the hall naked and without discomfort. Things had reached another plateau. I needed to talk with Cecilia, not about her conversations with Janet but to let her know I had looked up and seen the future and helping hands had brought me level with her and Janet. I only needed her to welcome me.

I was sitting on the bed naked when Cecilia came home. She came into the bedroom and, when she saw me, closed the door and began removing her clothing. She came to me naked. We made long, languorous love. When we were finished, we lay alongside each other.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome," she answered.

She looked at me for a long moment. "It didn't happen, did it?" she asked.

"No, it didn't," I said.

"Janet loves you, you know."

"I know. She wants to have sex with me."

"No. She wants to make love with you. Sex might come later but right now she wants to love you."

Dinner with mom that evening was different than usual. There was a tension in the air mixed with a little expectation. We all felt it. Mom did too. Several times she looked at Janet or Cecilia with a questioning eye with only a nod in response. When dinner was over, Janet excused herself, stood up and walked to the dining room door. She paused and said, "Bobby, do you have a moment?"

"Sure," I said as casually as I could. "Be right there."

I helped clear and stack the dishes before I excused myself and went upstairs to Janet's room. Inside, the tone was very different from the afternoon. I didn't know who was more nervous.

Downstairs mom looked askance at Cecilia. "What's up with those two?"

"Just some brother sister stuff. I think they'll work it out."

I went over to my sister and kissed her on her forehead and then her nose. "I may not be able to do that ever again," I said.

"I know."

"You okay with that?"

"More than you'll ever know," said Janet.

I took her in my arms and kissed her on her lips. She kissed back and the kiss expanded until our tongues touched. I stepped back, reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. She stood stiffly as I unbuttoned the second and then the third button. When I reached the bottom button, she reached up, pulled the blouse tail from inside her skirt and gave me a huge smile. I paused for a second and she said, "This is much better than I imagined."

"Do you want to approach this differently?" I asked.

"No. No. It's wonderful. Tease me. Slowly."

I moved my hands under her shirt up on her shoulders and lifted it up and back. She moved her arms back and the blouse slipped down her arms and pooled on the floor. She stood in front of me in her green bra. I stood in front of her with my arms at my side. After a moment she said, "Oh," reached up and began to unbutton my shirt. When my shirt was on the floor, I turned her around and began to unhook her bra. I lifted it by the shoulder straps and without turning her around, let it fall on top of her shirt. She turned around to face me.

I had seen her breasts dozens of times over the years but this time was the first time it had meaning. Her breasts stood out from her body as if they were calling me. Her light pink nipples were erect and pointing at me in anticipation of what we both knew was coming. Her smile warmed my heart. She kicked off her shoes and twisted her skirt until the waist button and zipper were in front. She undid the button and waited. It was my turn. I pushed off my shoes with my feet, unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my Dockers. She unzipped her skirt. I unzipped my trousers. She let her skirt fall to the floor. With some difficulty, I pushed my pants down until they were around my ankles. She stepped gracefully out of her skirt and I clumsily pushed my pants off with my feet.

We stood in front of each other in just briefs and panties. She came to me and we embraced and kissed again. Her hands found their way down to and inside my briefs. My hands were inside her panties and pulling her closer to me as we kissed again. We danced across the floor until we were up against the bed. We fell together, laughing, on the bed.

I looked at her and asked, "Happy?"

"If I were any happier I'd shit diamonds."

We laughed again and I kissed her again. I squeezed one breast and then the other. I followed up with a kiss on each. I began to kiss down her body and she stopped me. "Not this time. Just love me."

I stood up next to the bed, pulled off her panties and then my briefs. I climbed back on the bed and lay next to her stroking her hair and kissing her gently. She used one arm to push me on top of her, spreading her legs so I could lie between them. She reached down, took hold of my erection and pulled me toward her opening. I slipped slowly inside her as she sub vocalized a small "ahhh."

Her warmth embraced me and a shiver gripped my spine. I moved inside her and her arms and legs came up and held me tightly, almost as if she were afraid I might escape. We made love, slowly, carefully but intensely. We moved together for long minutes. Janet's orgasm arrived without warning. One minute she was soft beneath me, moving gently with me. The next she was stiff and shaking with thick fluid pushing out of her. I paused for a moment and continued moving within her until I felt my climax coming.

"Janet, I'm going to cum. I have to pull out."

Her legs and arms held me more tightly. "Not this time. I want to feel you inside me when you do. I need you inside me until the end. I have to experience your total love."

I loved her with everything I could give her. When I was done, I rolled off her and lay alongside her. She stroked my face and kissed me again and again. "Thank you," she said. "I love you."

"Janet," I said, "I love you too. Tonight I lost a sister and gained a partner. It's an unfair trade. I'm way ahead. Thank you."

I left the bed reluctantly, gathered my clothing, left her room and walked down the hallway, naked, past the bathroom to Cecilia's and my bedroom. I never saw my mother standing in front of her bedroom door watching me the entire time.

Cecilia met me, sitting naked on our bed. I tossed my clothing on a nearby chair and stood next to the bed looking at her. At that moment I was overcome with love for her.

She looked up at me and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you," I said. "I'm blown away by your wisdom and overflowing love. I love you."

"Come to bed," she said.

"I have to shower first."

"No. I want you now, just the way you are, covered with love."

It took a while but I managed to satisfy her.

The tone in the house changed again. Everyone was all smiles all the time. Except my mother. She seemed to have lost the ability to smile. Everyday she did what she had to do but without enthusiasm. After a week, Janet got her alone and tried to talk to her. All she got was "Nothing's wrong" and "I'm okay" over and over.

Janet enlisted the aid of Cecilia and together they approached my mom when I wasn't home. They sat down with her at the dining room table and wouldn't let her go until she explained what was bothering her. It took about an hour but eventually she turned to Janet and shouted, "You're fucking your brother." She looked at Cecilia and yelled, "And you know about it." Then she began to cry.

"Mom," Janet said. "It's not like that. I love Bobby."

"I love Bobby too but I'm not fucking him."

"Maybe you should try it," Janet said.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Mom, listen to me. Listen to us. I want you to understand. We both love Bobby. There's nothing about our love that's dirty or obscene. It's a real, honest to God love. Sometimes we give him the gift of our bodies and he gives us his body in return. There is no greater expression of our love for each other. I'm sorry for what I said but it was an honest expression of my love for Bobby and my wish that you could have the same unrestricted, unlimited love. I love you. Cecilia loves you. And Bobby loves you. Let us love you even more than seems possible."

They left mom sitting at the table.

Over the next several weeks everyone noticed slight changes in mom's attitude. She began to smile again and she appeared to be happier. For the first time in over a month she used the toilet while Bobby was in the shower. He couldn't see her through the hot steam but he knew it was her and not Janet or Cecilia.

Mom, on the other hand, wondered if Bobby knew she was visiting the bathroom when he was showering. She wondered if he could see her. She experimented by wearing fewer clothes each time she visited and she visited more often. Bobby knew each time. He lowered the water temperature, wiped the glass and watched her without looking directly at her.

Mom was beginning to feel frustrated. She knew he knew she was visiting him in the bathroom while he showered but he showed no sign of recognition and even less action. She wanted him to make the first move but she was unable to make it happen. The last two trips to use the toilet she wore only her panties, leaving off her bra and exposing her breasts. She noticed he had wiped the glass so he could see better but he still remained alone inside the glass shower. This time, after she had flushed the toilet, she stood facing the shower stall. "Maybe," she thought, "I should just get naked and climb into the shower with him."

While she was contemplating her next move, Bobby shut off the shower, slid the glass partition aside and stepped out into the bathroom proper. He caught her unprepared and he seemed surprised as well.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" he exclaimed without attempting to cover his nakedness.

"Waiting for you," she answered with a calmness she didn't feel.

"Why?" he countered.

With a shaky hand, she reached out and took his hand. "Come with me and I'll explain everything."

She led him, naked and dripping, to her bedroom and closed the door behind them.

"Bobby," she said, "I love you. Do you love me?"

"Mom, I love you. I always have."

"Do you say 'I love you' because I'm your mom and that's what all children say to their mom or do you feel something more than just the words themselves?" she asked.

Bobby stood in front her, shivering slightly as he dried. He was beginning to get an idea of where his mom was heading. "Janet and Cecilia have been spending a lot of time with mom and I think I know what they've been saying," he thought. "She wants this and so do I."

"Mom, it is more than just words. I can say the words to aunts and uncles easily, but when I say them to you I get a warmth that comes from somewhere inside me. It's similar to the warmth I feel when I tell Cecilia or Janet that I love them."He could see his mother's tension ease as he spoke. He moved closer to her, held her in his arms and said "I do love you," softly in her ear. She held him close, pressing her breasts against the skin of his chest. She leaned back and kissed him directly on his lips, hard. Hard also described the condition of his man part.

"You're sure," he asked.

"I am. I've been alone for fourteen years and that's long enough. I want what Cecilia and Janet have. I want the only man I truly love."

She stepped back from him. He looked at her, naked except for her panties. "Could you help me with these?" she asked.

He knelt in front of her, took the waistband of her panties in each hand and slid them slowly down to the floor where she stepped out of them. He was eye level with a beautiful, dark triangle of hair that he knew pointed to a warm place where want and desire met the physical world. He couldn't help himself. He pressed his face into the dark forest of hair and tasted her with his tongue. She was ready.

"Bobby, time for that later. Now I want to feel you inside me. I want to know how it feels after all these years."

She helped him up and led him to the bed. She climbed into the center of the bed and he climbed in next to her. She pulled him on top her and positioned herself underneath him.

"I feel like a giddy schoolgirl the first time she had sex. In some ways I'm like that virgin schoolgirl. Treat me like one, please," she whispered.

He did. He gave her all the respect she had taught him over the years. He treated her like someone giving herself to him for the first time because she was. He moved as if it was his first time as well because, in some sense, it was.

Later, after they were both finished, they lay beside one another with her head on his shoulder and her fingers tracing small circles on his chest.

He breathed her lightly scented hair and whispered, "I love you mom."

"Please call me Sandra."