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. I’d had my first wet dream.

“After my father's passing, he’d left enough for us to survive on but little else.”

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 I’d 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, he’d 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 he’d worked, it was only a matter of time before the money he’d 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 we’d 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 it’s 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 ‘Houdini-esque’ 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 didn’t 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 didn’t know. What I did know was that I’d been awoken out of a pleasant dream, although I couldn’t 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 I’d 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 ‘girly-magazines’, learned quickly what they were for. I had taken to masturbation like a fish to water, relieving myself 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 we’d 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 didn’t bother looking for my pajamas, preferring to strip down to my underwear to sleep; as I’d 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 hadn’t 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 it’s 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 I’d 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 didn’t know. I couldn’t be sure and tried to convince myself that it was only my imagination, but I couldn’t 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 it’s 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.

“Good morning.” She said to me softly, as she stepped out, looking up at the sky.

“Good morning, Mom.” 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, “Beautiful, isn't it?”

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.

“The sky...” 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.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s a little cold to be standing outside with no shoes on, don’t you think?” she said.

I didn’t 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, “Why don’t you go grab some shoes and we'll go get ourselves a nice breakfast.”

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

“Okay.” 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 we’d been treated to. The place was full of farmers and ranchers, all sipping down their coffee and talking about the weather. I’d never been around so many people that had such a keen interest in ‘when it might rain’ or ‘how hot it had been of late’. 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 didn’t understand.

In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t 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 “Y’all have a nice day now!” and a big Texas sized smile.

“Okay, decision time.” She said to me.

I gave her a quizzical look as she smiled sheepishly back at me. “We 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.” She said, unfolding a map out on the table.. “Where y’all headed?” The waitress chimed in, returning with Mom's change.

“Oregon.” I answered her.

“Oregon! Well, I've got a brother who lives in Oregon! He's been out there for...” The waitress went on, proceeding to tell us both her entire family history and lineage, much to the amusement of my mother. “... and he told me that if I ever was to come an’ visit to make sure to see the Grand Canyon along the way. It’s the biggest crack you ever did see!” 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.

“Well, I guess that decides it. West it is!” 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 it’s 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.

“You 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 lil’ slower on the highway and don’t try drivin’ durin’ the hottest part of the day an’ you'll be fine.” 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 didn’t mind at all, I’m 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 shouldn’t 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.

“Why don’t you go on in and get ready... umm... to go to sleep.”

The awkward pause of her words caught my attention but I didn’t quite know what to make of it.

As I got up and was opening the camper door, she called out, “Paul, you take as much time as you... um... need and just let me know when I can come in, okay?”

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. It’s hard to describe, but I realized there was definitely more to what she'd said than I’d initially thought.

“Okay, Mom.” I relied, still trying to understand what she'd meant.

I stepped into the camper and immediately my mind began to race with questions. “Take as much time as I needed?” “Time for what? She knows it doesn't take long for me to get ready for bed?” “But that's not exactly what she said. She said ... um...” My mind tried to backtrack to remember her words. “to ... um... sleep?” 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. “Am I just being paranoid?” “Or was this her way of letting me know that SHE knew?” “Was she hinting that it was okay to go ahead and masturbate?” “Right now?”

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, “Mom? You can come in now.” I said it trying to sound as casual as I could, but I’m sure that it didn’t come out as such.

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

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 don’t 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 ‘dream’. 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 I’d 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 didn’t, 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, “No, not again.”

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.

“Paul?” 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.

“Paul...” She whispered once again.

“ I’m so sorry, Mom” I stammered out. “ I... I...”

“Shhh...” she whispered softly, “... it’s okay. There's nothing for you to be sorry for.”

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 didn’t 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, “It’s okay, stay right there.”

I felt her slide herself out of the bed, being careful not to pull the covers off of me as she did so. I hadn’t 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.

“Paul?” She said softly.

“Here it comes...” I prepared myself.

“Paul honey, why don’t you slip off those clothes... so you can clean up.”

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 didn’t 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 I’d finished. “I brought you some clean underwear.” 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. “Paul, do you want to talk?” She asked.

I finished pulling up my underwear and folded my arms nervously around myself as I tried to think of what to say. “Mom, I’m... I’m so sorry...” I began.

“I’m not mad at you.” She said, “ I’m not mad at you at all.”

I sat silent and stunned with relief to hear her words, and began to relax a bit. “Y... You’re not?” I squeaked out.

“Oh honey, I’m the one who should apologize.” She said.

“You...?” I coughed out in confusion.

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

“Um... well kinda...” I replied, cautiously relieved that she didn’t know about the night before.

She sat silent for a minute, then asked point blank, “Do you know about masturbating yet?”

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. “It’s okay, you can tell me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, in fact it’s perfectly normal.”

She was looking right into my eyes waiting for an answer, but all I managed to out was an, “Uh huh.”

“Wet dreams happen sometimes when you haven't... um... relieved yourself in a while. Paul, has it been a while since you...?” 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. “Since we left.” 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. “Young b... young men sometimes masturbate quite a bit. How often do you... feel the need?” 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 I’d felt before had given me the courage to continue, and I began, “Well, um... every night before I go to bed... and usually in the morning, too.”

She didn’t say anything, just softly smiled at me, and her gaze seemed to prompt me to continue. “If I get a chance during the day, sometimes more than once...” I went on, until I noticed her eyes begin to widen and her smile grow.

I started to feel a bit embarrassed, as if I’d 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.

“Thank you.” She said and bent down to kiss my forehead.

“For what?” I asked.

“For being... you.” She said.

I returned her smile, feeling that everything was okay now.

“Are you ready to go back to sleep?” She asked.

“Sure, Mom.” 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.

“I love you.” She whispered in my ear.

“I love you too.” 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 it’s way over the horizon. I was about to climb out of the bed when the camper door opened and my mother stepped in.

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” She said.

“Good morning.” I replied, wiping my eyes.

“I wanted to get an early start today.” She said while she rummaged through a box for something. “You can stay in the camper if you want.”

“Um... sure.” 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.

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

“Okay.” 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 I’d 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 I’d be back here spanking the monkey and she didn’t 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, “Oh, what the hell.” 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 ‘m 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 it’s 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 it’s 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; “Masturbation is a very normal thing .” 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 I’d seen of my mother; standing in the darkened camper, pulling off her bra, her nipples standing out in the against the window light.

“Oh, Jesus!” 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 I’d 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 shouldn’t be thinking it, I couldn’t help myself. I was coming so hard and it felt so good that I didn’t 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.

“Wow.” I thought to myself.

I gently cleaned myself off with the washcloth, it’s 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 I’d 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. “Ma, I’m gonna go see if they've got a bathroom.” I said.

“Okay, honey.” 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

“Naw, it’s only a big ol’ crack anyway.” I knew that If I’d said yes, she would have stopped for me but I knew she didn’t want to stop. So on we went, slowly making our way into California. We drove quite a bit that day, finally stopping I don’t 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 it’s final breaths. At first it began to run hot, but unlike before, slowing didn’t 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.

“ Don’t turn off that truck.” 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 .

“Don’t park it hear, by the looks of it, it might not start ever again.” He said as he stood amid the cloud of smoke that began to gather around the truck. “Park it over there, down that street where it won't get in the way.” He barked out.

Mom backed out of the garage and slowly parked the truck, it’s 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.

“Bad?” My mother asked him, reading his look.

“Worse.” He answered bluntly.

“Worse?” She said, her voice and heart sinking.

“Well, 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.” He paused as he could see that my mother didn’t realize the seriousness of the problem. “That means probably a blown engine or at least a total rebuild.”

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 didn’t have the money for this.

“I’m real sorry to have to tell you that ma'am, but... “ He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile as he stood looking at us. “Anyways, it'll be a while before I could even look at it, gotta lot of other cars to get fixed first.”

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, “Honey, I want you to stay here . I’m going across the street to make a phone call.”

“Are you gonna call Aunt Dianne?” I asked.

“Yes, honey. I'll be right back” 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 hung 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.

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

“Mom...?” I called out again, the timbre of my voice rising as my emotions churned inside. I think if I’d 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.

“Mom, are you okay?” I called out.

“Yes. Yes, honey. I’m okay. I’m okay.” 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. “It’s okay, baby. Eveything’s going to be okay.” She said, squeezing me tight and stroking my hair.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“ Come on, let's go sit down for a minute.” She said calmly. “I've got some news to tell you.” 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.

“What happened?” I asked again, speaking the words softly to disguise my anxiety. “I don’t think we should go to Oregon.” She said. She turned to me and tried to smile again.

“But... why? What happened?” I asked.

“Well...” She started, pausing to figure out how best to explain, “You know how we've had a run of bad luck lately?”

I nodded my head.

“Well you Aunt and her husband have run into some bad luck, too.”

“Oh.” I said, curious but unsure if I should ask what kind of bad luck.

“Are they going to be okay?”

“Oh, they're going to be just fine.” She said, sounding only half convincing to both herself and to me. “Really.” “I just think that it’s... Well, it wouldn't be the right thing for us to impose ourselves on them right now.”

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 it’s 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.

“Well, ...” she asked, “ What do you think?” I looked up at her, watching her as she slowly turned herself looking around the park.

“Huh?” I said.

“What do you think about this place.” 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.

“Uh... I don’t know. It’s okay, I guess.” I said hesitantly.

“Hmmm... I think it’s rather charming, really.” She said, her voice sounding suprisingly upbeat. “I think it’s a good a place as any, don’t you?”

“For what?” I asked.

“To stay.” She said, still looking around.

“In the park?” I asked, confused.

The absurdity of my question caught her attention, and she looked at me and laughed. “Come on, silly! We've got work to do.” She said, taking my hand and heading toward the street. “If we're going to call this place home, we're going to need some money.” 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, “Here we go.” 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 we’d 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. “We'll have one slice of pie, one glass of milk and one coffee , please.” 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.

“What?” I asked, feeling as though I’d done something wrong.

“Nothing.” 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, “Good, huh?”

“Mmm Hmm” I managed to mumble back with a mouthful of pie. As she poured the coffee, my mother looked at her and asked, “I wonder if you can help me?”

“Sure.” The young girl said. “Well, 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?”

The young waitress just stood for a minute, a bit unsure of how to respond to the question. “It 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?” Mom continued.

“Well...” 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. “... Umm, not really.” She said.

“Well, thanks anyway.” 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.

“Finish your pie, I'll be right back.” 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. “I’m sorry to bother you,” Mom asked quietly to the waitress behind the counter, “but do you have a place where I might be able to clean up a bit?”

The young girl glanced over my mother shoulder, noticing the old ladies table staring silently at her.

“Sure, come on back here.” 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. “Well, would you look at that...” and “Oh, that poor boy, just look at him...”

I didn’t 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. “I’m sorry if we look such a site. I didn’t realize...” She said as the girl returned her change. My mother attempted to offer her a tip, but the girl refused.

“Please, no. “ You need it..” She started to say, stopping herself as she realized what it must have sounded like.

“Are you going to be okay, Ma'am?” She asked with sincerity.

“Oh, we'll be fine. Thank you for asking.” 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.

“Excuse me, Ma'am.” She called out to my mother. My mother stopped and turned, the young girl walking up close to her.

“Please don’t mind them.” She said, turning and giving a stern look back into the coffee shop window at the table of women inside. “They're just a bunch of old gossips that have too much time on their hands.”

“Thank you.” Mom said.

“Listen, 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 it’s been a while. I don’t know what kind of work it is, or if she still needs help, but...” she offered in an almost apologetic tone.

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

"You’re welcome, and... good luck!” 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.

“I think... umm I think maybe we should find a place to spend the night tonight.” She said to me. It was late in the afternoon and it appeared that the town was beginning to close up for the night.

“Sure, Mom.” 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, “Yes, I see it too. But I think that for now, we need to rest. Maybe in the morning.”

“Sure, Mom.” I said. “ I'll bet she'll hire you... I would.” I said, in an attempt to make her feel better.

She looked at me and smiled, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

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 didn’t take long for sleep to overtake us both. Late at night, or in the early pre dawn hours I couldn’t 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 I’d jerked off in the camper as she drove, and of how I’d fantasized about her while having the best orgasm I’d ever had before. It’s wasn't long before I’d 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, “Here you go, baby.”

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.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead.” 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 I’d had of morality, any thoughts I’d 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, “Shhh, honey. It’s still early, you can sleep some more if you'd like.”

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, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I replied, smiling back at her.

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

“Can I come with you?” I asked, wanting to see more of this new place.

“Sure.” She said, “If you want to.”

I crawled out of bed and was looking for some jeans to slip on when my mother said, “Why don’t you put on some clean underwear and we'll wash those.” 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.

“I’m ready when you are.” 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, “Okay, let's go!”

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 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. All the while I walked around the little shop, listening to the hum of the machines, I couldn’t 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 don’t 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.

“Bored, sweety?” She asked.

“Yeah, a little.” I said. She was still reading her magazine when a thought popped into my head.

After all of the things I’d been thinking about as I had sat alone, I blurted out, “Mom, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” She replied, still lightly reading.

“Mom... do girls masturbate too?” 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. “Sometimes.” She said, her look becoming one of curiosity.

“Oh.” 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.

“Paul...,” She said, “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No, not really.” I replied, unsure if I did or not.

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

“Paul, if you feel uncomfortable about what happened last night, then I want you to tell me.” She said.

“No, Mom. It’s not that. It’s just...” I began, but stopped as I began to wonder if I was ready to open up even more .

“I’m sorry, sweety. I can tell you feel uncomfortable about it.” 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 I’d enjoyed it very much.

“No, I... I liked it.” 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.

“Paul, I want you... I need you to tell me the truth.” I could see the look of concern that had overtaken her face, and I felt as though I needed to tell her everything.

“Well... the truth is...” I began, “... that I liked it.”

I saw her face soften a bit, her brow relax.

“Paul, some people might not think that...” She started to say.

“I know, Mom.” I interrupted her again. “ I don’t care about that, “ I said. “It’s just... well...”

“What is it, Paul?”

“Well I was just worried that you would think I was, you know, weird or something.” I said.

“For what?” She asked with relief. “Well... ‘cause I liked it. Alot.”

Mom squeezed my hands tightly in hers, sitting herself up in her chair.

 

“Honey, I want to tell you some things.” She said. “When we first started out on this trip, I felt as though I had failed.”

I looked at her again and saw her eyes becoming a little glassy with sadness.

“No, wait. I felt as though I’d let you down, let us down. And I promised myself that I wasn't going to let that happen a second time.”

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

“You know, I can remember back when I was your age.” She said. “I remember feeling so curious about things... like sex... but in the house that I grew up in, you didn’t 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.”

She looked at me and smiled. “So... I grew up, and met your father, and did what I felt like I was supposed to do.” 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.

“I loved your father very much, you know.” 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. “But even though I felt closer to him than anyone I’d 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.”

She paused for a moment. “And then you came along.” 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. “Well, ummm, after your father passed away...” She paused once again, before looking at me with a serious look in her eye, “... I promised myself that I would make sure that things would be different for you. I didn’t want you to feel as though you were ever ashamed... of being you.” She stopped herself, and I could see a tear beginning to well in her eye.

“ I understand, Mom.” 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 didn’t fully understand, it might make her feel better.

She pulled me close to give me a hug, whispering., “I love you.” 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.

“Come on, let's fold the clothes” 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.

“Mom, do you masturbate?” I asked.

She never stopped folding the laundry, just smiled sheepishly and said, “Sometimes.”

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 ‘Closed’ sign on the door. When I asked her why she was so hesitant, she only replied that she looked like a mess and didn’t 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, “Help wanted, inquire within.”

“Tomorrow.” 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 we’d 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 we’d had a little dinner, eating up what little remained from the small fridge, and sat down to relax when my mother said, “I need to clean up, wash my hair at least, if I’m going to look for work tomorrow. You need a bath, too.”

I hadn’t thought of it before, but it had now been nearly five full days that we’d been on the road without a real bath. “Out 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.” She announced.

I didn’t 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 it’s 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.

“Your turn”., 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 I’d 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 couldn’t 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. “Invigorating, huh?” 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.

“I’m going to step outside. There's a washcloth in the bucket, you can use it to give yourself a towel bath. Okay?”

“Okay.” I replied.

“Let me know when your finished.”

“Okay, Mom.” 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. “Okay.” 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 I’d 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 couldn’t sleep. I began to think about my mother and what we’d 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 it’s 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 didn’t want to wake her up, but on the other hand I didn’t 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 couldn’t 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 it’s skin slowly up and down. I couldn’t 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 didn’t 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 don’t know how long it was that I’d 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 didn’t 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 I’d 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 it’s 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 I’d 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 ‘Help Wanted’ sign and squeezing my hand tightly. I looked at her and smiled, trying to bolster her confidence. “Do you want me to stay outside?” 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, “ No, we'll go in together. We're a team, right?”

“Right!” 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 we’d 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.

“Oh my.” 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 hadn’t 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 I’d walked in somewhere I shouldn’t be, and quietly stepped back out of the room. I quietly found my mother and pointed to the room where I’d 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 hadn’t 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.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” 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.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Mom said again.

“No, no. I’m the one to apologize.” The woman answered. “ I guess I was just a little pre-occupied.” She pulled off the large gloves and tossed them onto the table, and grabbed a towel to clean her hands.

“Please, don’t stop what you were doing for me.” Mom said apologetically.

“No, it’s all right, I wasn't getting very far with this anyway.” The woman said. “These brass polishers never seem to work that well.”

“Oh,” Mom replied, eyeing the old cash register. “Is that an old National?”

“Well, yes it is.” The shopkeeper replied. “You seem to know your registers. I’m afraid it’s rather tarnished though, deep in the lattice of the brass.”

Mom stood for a minute, and a small wry smile crept across her face. “If you'd like, I know an old trick for polishing up that brass?” 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, “I could show you, if you'd like?” 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, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Mom just grinned back at her, then held out her hand.

“Carla, Carla Demond.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carla.” The woman said, gently shaking my mothers hand. “And what's your name, young man?”

She asked me, hold out her hand. “I’m Paul.” I replied shyly.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Paul. I’m Charlotte, but YOU can call me Charlie!” She said with a jump in her voice. I couldn’t 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.

“I’m going to fix us some coffee, would you like something? I think I have some orange juice?” She asked.

I looked to my mother, wondering if I should accept. She gave me the nod and I replied, “Yes, please.”

“Okay then!” She said, giving my mother a small wink as she turned and walked over to the kitchen cabinet. “I’m afraid I don’t get too many customers these days, I’m glad to have the company.” 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. “I love your shop.” My mother spoke as she examined the machine.

“Well, thank you very much. I’m afraid that it’s a bit messy, I...” Charlotte turned and watched my mother as she looked at the register. Mom noticed her pause and looked to see Charlotte staring at her.

“I... I’m sorry.” My mother apologized again. “It’s just that I haven't seen one of these in... well, let's just say longer than I care to admit.”

“No need to apologize.” Charlotte said with a knowing smile.

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

“Please!” 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.

“Wow!” 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.

“THAT is amazing!” Charlotte finally managed to blurt out.

“It’s an old trick I learned from my grandmother.” Mom said, still working her way around the cash register.

“May I?” 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. “Brilliant! Absolutely Brilliant!” 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.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much work you've just saved me.” She poured two cups of coffee and turned to my mother.

“Won't you please come have a seat with me?” The two walked into the next room, sitting together on a small couch by a coffee table. I couldn’t help myself, having to try this magic trick just once for myself.

“Carla, you didn’t come here to shop, did you?” Charlotte asked hesitantly.

“Was it that obvious?” Mom replied.

Charlotte didn’t say anything, just smiled and gave Mom the opportunity to continue.

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

“The sign!” Charlotte mumbled in suprise. “Oh my. It’s... I’m sorry. I've had that little sign in the window for so long that I’d nearly forgotten about it.”

Her smile slipped from her face. “Oh.” 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, “You’re in trouble, aren't you?”

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.

“Oh, sweetheart.” 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. “Oh, honey... It’s okay. Let it out..”

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, “Oh, you poor thing. What has happened to you?”

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. “That's it, let it out...” she whispered to my mother.

I don’t 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. “No, no honey. You need to let this out.”

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

“Oh, you poor thing...” 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. “And you've been sleeping in your truck, all of this time?” 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.

“Charlotte, I...” My mother began.

“Hush, now.” Charlotte said with a smile.

She turned to me again and asked, “Paul, will that old truck make one more trip?” I didn’t quite understand what she meant, but I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “I... I think so?”

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

My mother turned to her in surprise, not sure what to say. “O... Okay?” I answered her.

“But...” Mom started to say, but was halted as Charlotte stopped her.

“Not a word.” She said, “Back above the garage is a small studio. It’s filled with some things that I've been meaning to clean out anyway. The two of you will stay there.”

“Charlotte, I... I can't pay you...” My mother began again.

“Let's not worry about that right now...” Charlotte replied, “... we'll just consider it part of your salary.”

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

“Excellent!” 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.