Punish Me

There was luggage in the entryway when Daniel opened the door to his apartment. From the burgundy color alone he was pretty sure it was his mother’s, the monogram on the side, GHM, confirmed his suspicions. He took a moment to look it over, too many bags for just a visit.

Hanging his coat he made his way to the kitchen where his mother was standing in front of the stove stirring something that smelled delicious. Her honey blond hair was pulled up in a bun with loose strands flying away haphazardly. A cream colored silk top tapered softly into a well fitting black skirt that plumped nicely where her backside pressed out. His eyes were drawn to just under her arm where he could make out the shape of her breast. In all of his twenty eight years he had never gotten over the sight of his mother’s fantastic set of tits. Gail Miller was well put together for certain, three husbands and countless suitors attested to her physical beauty. Even at the age of forty eight she was a sight to behold.

“How long?” Daniel asked opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. He turned and leaned against the door as he took a long pull from the can.

“I’ve only been here a few hours dear, dinner will be ready in a few,” she answered without turning to face him. Her face was scrunched with worry.

“That’s not what I meant mom and you know it. How long will you be staying?” He didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. Three times in the last five years she had shown up unannounced because her current boyfriend or husband had sent her packing.

She wanted to assure him it wouldn’t be long, but instead her voice cracked and the tears came in a flood. Her body shook and she braced herself against the stove, holding herself up to keep from crumpling. With a soft curse Daniel put his beer down and stepped up behind his mother, his arms circling around her waist and holding her tight. He made soft cooing noises to calm her as he stroked her silky hair. Gail buried her face in her son’s chest and tried valiantly to quell the crying.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered through sobs. “I’ve done it again.”

Again. It was always the same since Daniel’s father, Dan senior, died eight years ago. Gail would find some decent guy and for a time it was domestic tranquility. Time would pass, over a year with the first husband, now just a few months with the latest boyfriend, and then things would deteriorate. She would become disrespectful, over spend, any of a hundred things that seemed as if she was sabotaging her relationships.

Daniel’s father would never have accepted Gail acting the way she had been since his death. He wasn’t a brute, never abusive, but Dan senior had been a man of little compromise. He knew they way he wanted his home, his life and he wouldn’t accept anyone, even his wife, getting in the way of it. Gail had seemed to thrive under such single minded determination, even though to Daniel his mother seemed to intentionally go against his father’s wishes from time to time.

It was this rebellion that caused her now ex-husbands and boyfriends to dump her on her plump posterior and inevitably she would show up at Daniel’s door, or more accurately inside his apartment.

“Why?” Daniel asked at last. He always asked and he always knew the answer before she spoke.

“The same thing,” Gail replied after a time. She leaned back so that she could look into her son’s face, afraid to see the disappointed look in his eyes.

“What am I gonna do with you mom?” He asked shaking his head. Gail only sniffled and then hugged her son tightly. “Call me when dinner is ready,” Daniel said as he untangled himself from her grasp and headed off for a shower.

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