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Full Circle

12

Ashley Harmour was sitting gloomily on the divan idly turning the pages of a magazine. Somehow the romances of film and television personalities didn't interest her, nor the advertisements announcing that she could look twenty years younger if she used their product. She threw the magazine aside regretting the five dollars she had spent on it in the supermarket.

After a few moments she unbuttoned her shirt put her hands under her breasts and felt them, a look of misty contemplation in her eyes, as if remembering something.

She released her breasts and freed from her grasp they quivered briefly like firm jelly and Ashley continued to stare down at them. She had liked her breasts ever since they had first developed in her early teens and they seemed to be as firm and alive now as they had been then. She smiled ruefully as if again remembering something.

Yes, she considered her breasts to be her best feature, unless of course she took into account her legs. She pulled up her skirt and then stretched out her legs and reaching down to grasp her slender ankles she began to feel upwards over the firm but smooth calves and then the swell of her thighs.

"Yes," she thought, "I've got good legs and what a pity that..." She stopped the thought in its tracks because what was the use of grieving over something that had never happened unless it was to grieve because it hadn't happened? "Yet" she thought, "It might have happened."

Her fingers touched the outer lips of her genitals and for few moments she ran a finger thoughtfully along the furrow.

As if with sudden resolve she reached out for her dildo lying on the table before her. She considered for a few moment whether to take her panties off or leave them on. She'd left them on when she had brought herself to an orgasm a couple of hours ago, but this time she decided to take them off.

She began to run the head of the dildo slowly along the groove of her vulva; slowly because after all what else had she got to do, so she might as well take her time bringing herself to another orgasm.

There was the sound of The Charge of the Light Brigade from her mobile lying on the table. She cursed the interruption to her gentle stimulation and ignored the call. She increased the pace of her dildo stimulation and orgasm wasn't far away, and the mobile sounded off again.

This time she gave up. She'd have to leave the orgasm for later. Irritably she picked up the mobile expecting to hear an Indian voice trying to sell her something. "Yes?" she snapped, but her irritability faded and her face took on a look of surprise as she said, "Martin...it is you darling?"

"No...No, it's just that I didn't expect you to call, is there something wrong?"

"No...No darling, I didn't mean it like that; it's lovely to hear from you."

A smile wreathed her face and she seemed to be transformed from gloom to delight.

"Yes, it has been a long time, but after all the trouble about..."

"No...No my love, I never blamed you, not for a minute, I told you that at the time. There really was no need for you to leave home, it was your father who..."

"Oh, of course, you don't know. Yes, we got divorced and I believe he's going to remarry. I would have let you know but I didn't have your address or any contact number and so..."

"No darling, I've just said I've never blamed you, and after all it was perfectly innocent wasn't it. Your father just happened to walk it at the wrong time and took it to be something it wasn't, not really."

"Yes, it was unfortunate. Yes, I know you thought that leaving home would settle things and dad would calm down, but it did no good, he had to have his revenge.

Yes, I saw them out together once but they didn't see me.

"No darling she didn't look like a slut, in fact I have to admit she looked rather sweet; a Chinese or Japanese girl I think, but years younger than your father."

"Thinking about it since I suppose our marriage had dried up long before the incident, and perhaps that was why the incident happened at all. I just needed some love and affection...no darling I'm not blaming myself I'm long past that."

"Now that's a lovely thing to say, but I've never thought of myself as beautiful...yes I know you often said so and perhaps that was also part of the trouble, but it's no use regretting it now and brooding over it, so tell me, are you dating anyone?"

"Oh, I see. Well it happens like that sometimes and you have to..."

Ashley laughed softly. "No darling, I haven't got ambitions to be a grandmother, not for while anyway and in any case I'm not past the age of child bearing myself, so if I wanted any little ones around I could manufacture them myself, with help of course."

"Would I like to? Well yes, I would have liked to but your father...no, it was his career and I tried to..."

"No, I'm not dating; I haven't got the right attitude for it, not after all the trouble."

"Yes, it can get lonely but somehow I seem to have lost my social skills, if I ever had any. I think now that I may have devoted too much time to the home and your father, and never socialised enough...no darling, of course I never regretted having you. You were always a bright spot in my life, especially towards the end, and you still are in a way."

"Yes, I often think about you."

Ashley took hold of the dildo again and began to side it along the groove of her vulva as she listened to Martin.

"Do...do you sometimes think of me?"

The dildo slipped between the lips of her vulva and entered her vagina.

Her voice became tense. "You do! Darling I think you're exaggerating...yes...I suppose you're right, we often have the people we love on our mind, especially those who are far away."

Ashley was moving the dildo faster and faster and suddenly she transferred its head to her clitoris and began stimulating it with rapid little movements.

"It's...it's those who...oh...oh...oh my darling...ah...ah...I love you...I..."

"What? No I'm all right darling, just a little twinge, indigestion, something I ate, it's stopped now. Did I? Well of course I love you so why shouldn't I say it."

"Yes even in the midst of a bout of indigestion."

Ashley let the dildo drop between her legs.

"There's never a right time or a wrong time to tell someone you love them, you just tell them because...because one day you might not be able to tell them and then you spend the rest of your life regretting you didn't simply say, I love you, and it's best if you can say it face to face, but if it's necessary you say it over a mobile phone."

Ashley laughed weakly. "No Martin, I'm not expecting you to die, I just felt like saying it. Don't you sometimes feel like saying things to people on the spur of the moment?"

"Yes, I agree, telling someone you love them can leave you open to them, they can even break your heart if they reject your love and...No, I wasn't talking about us especially but perhaps in a way I was. You must have known what you were doing to me when you left home...yes I know you meant it for the best but it didn't work out that way. Look at us now. Your father and I divorced and he going to marry another woman, and you and I far apart."

"What do you mean we're not far apart?"

"Oh you beast, you horrible boy, why didn't you tell me straight away?"

Ashley picked up the dildo and sniffed its head and then licked it.

"That's ridiculous darling, of course I want you here. How long are you able to stay?"

"You don't know...the company hasn't said."

"Yes, I understand your reasons for staying away. Perhaps I should have been glad that you stayed away for the same reasons, but I've never been quite able to bring myself to feel like that. And now there's no reason why you should stay away, I'm here all alone and... and I need you."

Ashley reinserted the dildo into her vagina but didn't move it.

"Yes, that's what I said Martin, I need you."

"Hello...hello...are you still there Martin? Oh you are."

"What I meant darling was that I need you in any way you need me, no more than that."

"I know, I've known ever since you were fourteen. I've known and understood because I'm sure it happens to a lot of mothers and sons."

"No, I thought it was rather sweet, a son loving his mother in that way."

"Yes darling, but you left me. Your father might have cooled down eventually, and you and I, we could have talked about it. Not talking about it only leaves it to fester inside."

"Yes, we might have found a solution if we had been more open with each other."

"I suppose it doesn't matter now; time changes things and people and we can make a fresh start."

"Well yes, I suppose we do still need to talk about it clear the air between us."

When do you think you'll arrive?"

"An hour, as soon as that! You might give your poor old mother a chance to prepare for her son's arrival."

"No, it's all right; you come as soon as you like. So until then."

Ashley held on to the mobile for several moments as if wishing Martin was still at the other end, and then with a quivering sigh put the mobile on the table and withdrawing the dildo she looked at it speculatively.

* * * * * * * *

Carrying the dildo Ashley left the room and went to her bedroom. There she undressed and briefly looked at her self in the mirror. Martin had said so often that she was beautiful and he had repeated it over the mobile, and he had said it at the time of the trouble, but the trouble was two years ago. Had she changed since then? Had the loneliness soured her?

Would Martin still find her beautiful? In any case it had been a son's love for his mother that caused him to see beauty in her. If he had seen her as a stranger on the street or just met her at a party, would he have seen her as beautiful then?

She didn't know. She only knew that the thought of him returning home excited her, she felt more alive than she had since he had left. Now that he was returning would there be something more than a kiss? It had been a kiss that had infuriated his father; a kiss that had driven Martin from home; no more than a kiss and all that trouble! But even as she thought of it she knew she was lying to herself.

It had been more than just a kiss, it had been an open mouth tongue tangling kiss and they had clung together, and Martin's hand had just closed over one of her breasts when her husband had walked in. He had been furious, and maintained his rage until Martin had left home, and then he sought his revenge, and his revenge was a pretty Asiatic girl who, when she had seen them together, looked pregnant.

Ashley had tried not to be bitter about that, but he had denied her more children for years, and she had devoted herself to keeping an orderly home and helped his career wherever she could, and she had ended up with some money, a house and no son and a lonely life.

But now that was to change. Martin was coming home!

Just the thought of his arrival seemed to change her surroundings. The house that had for so long been in shadow seemed suddenly brighter, as if the sun had come out and driven the gloom away. She would have someone to cook for, to clean for, someone to talk to and...and someone to live for.

The gloom descended again She had been right when she had said that time changes people and things. What right did she have to expect things would not be different with her and Martin. It had been two years since that day and although Martin had spoken to her very lovingly over the mobile, perhaps he was just coming home, not for her, but for somewhere convenient to stay while he was still in the city.

Ashley tried to shake off her pessimism and went to take a hurried shower. Afterwards she returned to her bedroom to choose what she would wear, she must at least look her best as she welcomed Martin home.

As she rifled through her wardrobe something slipped off its hanger. She picked it up. She hadn't worn it for years - in fact for two years - it was a black peignoir, the one she had been wearing when she and Martin had...had..."

She had bought it originally for Arthur's sake, or rather to try and awaken what had become an arid marriage, but it hadn't worked with him but it had worked too well with Martin.

As now she had just finished showering and had emerged from the shower room wearing the peignoir and was making her way to her bedroom. Martin had emerged from his room and had stood gazing at her. She was not naïve and she knew exactly why he was gazing; the peignoir was very transparent, Martin had never seen her wearing it before and his response was obvious from the bulge in his groin.

It was goodnight time and Ashley had said "goodnight" and kissed him. He had drawn her close until she felt his manhood pressed against her lower belly and their kiss had passed beyond the filial to a lover's kiss. With the peignoir it was so easy for Martin's hand to slide inside it and touch her breast. What might have happened next would never be known because Arthur arrived unexpectedly on the scene and all hell broke loose.

* * * * * * * *

Ashley began to restore the garment to its hanger, but stopped. She held it up, looking at it speculatively. Would Martin like to see her in it again, a reminder of what had been and what it might have become?

Ashley shook herself out of her reverie. No, wearing it would be a step too far, it would be too obvious, it would expose her true feelings so clearly and she would be vulnerable.

She replaced the garment and the hanger and chose a dark green dress that would complement her dark hair, but she changed her mind again. She replaced the green dress and considered again the peignoir. What if it did expose her body and her desire, what did it matter after the hurt she had experienced. At least Martin would know the truth about how she felt; a sort of wordless exposure of her desires. If he rejected her vulnerability so what? Would it be any worse than the two years she had fantasised about him, crying out his name as she orgasmed? At least she would know the truth of Martin's feelings for her.

Her thoughts went back again to that night. When Martin saw her in the peignoir he had said, "You're so beautiful mother." Whether that was objectively true or not hadn't seemed to matter. The mere fact that her son saw her as beautiful was enough, and it had made her feel beautiful in a way that Arthur had not done for years.

When the first kiss had ended Martin had said, "I love you so much mother." He had told her he loved her many times before, but never with that yearning ardour as then. When they kissed again and his hand had come to rest on her breast she had known what must happen next and welcomed it as the end of the long night of their unfulfilled desires. But then Arthur had come upon them and the darkness returned darker than ever, but with the added anguish of what might have been.

Ashley put on the peignoir and then once more considered herself in the mirror. The practical concern was whether or not she should wear panties and bra under the peignoir. Without them she was even more exposed: her breasts were mistily seen, as was the little triangle of silky pubic hair. That was how it had been the last time, but would it affect Martin now as it had then?

Something like a spirit of defiance rose up in Ashley. If she had gone so far as to wear the peignoir then why not go the whole way. She had said that Martin's return offered a new beginning for their relationship, so let him see her as she had been the last time, and if he found her physically repugnant this time then they would at least know the basis on which their new relationship was to be built.

She decided to omit panties and bra.

Her thoughts wandered on; what did she really want of Martin? Once, two years ago it had been a desire for love and affection, and yes, she admitted to herself, sex with him, a time of lust mingled with love that would give them release from their sexual hunger and it would have been safe then, but now, what?

She had no means of being sure of what Martin might want of her, if anything beyond that of a filial relationship. But if he wanted more, if he wanted to pick up where they had been so tragically separated, was this what she wanted?

Yes she wanted that but she wanted more. Some deep female longing that is a mystery to most men stirred within her. She wanted the sex and the passion, she wanted it dearly, but beyond that she wanted the fruit of that passion.

Ashley shook herself out of her daydream; what she wanted was no more than that, a dream.

She glanced at the clock. Martin had said it would take him and hour to be with her, and already it was five minutes to the hour. She looked at herself in the mirror for the last time, and then remembered she had some perfume left that Martin had always liked, a subtle and yet sensual aroma. She patted some on her body, and wearing only the peignoir she left the bedroom.

* * * * * * * *

Ashley had intended to sit in the lounge while she waited for Martin because from there she would be sure to hear his car arrive and be ready to greet him in the hallway.

But Martin was a minute or two early and before Ashley could reach the hallway Martin had entered using his key. Ashley noted this. The key to the front door had been given to him on his sixteenth birthday and he had clearly retained it when he left home. The indication was that he had always intended to return one day.

When Ashley entered the hallway it was to see Martin standing there looking round as one does when returning too an old familiar place and noting the changes that might have taken place.

Ashley was barefoot and had entered silently and Martin had not heard her. This gave Ashley a chance to survey her son. He looked taller and broader and there was a look of confidence and maturity about him.

Ashley whispered, "Martin."

"Mother," he responded, and they stood silently looking at each other. Whatever ideas they might have had about how they would greet each other, they now fled. The reality of each other's presence after two years rendered them self-conscious and wordless.

Ashley wondered if Martin was remembering those few moments when they had come so close to physically expressing their love and was now embarrassed by the memory and regretting that they had come so close to the deed.

She wondered if she should break the silence by saying "Welcome home," but somehow that would sound mundane given the relationship they had once had.

It was left to Martin to end the silence. He took a hesitant step towards her and then stopped. The words came out tentatively as very quietly he said, "Mother, you...you look lovely."

Ashley's mind seemed to spin. Whatever else she had expected her son to say, it was not that, yet hadn't she calculatingly prepared herself in the hope of hearing such words.

She thought for a moment she was going to faint and reached out her hand to the wall for support, and it was then that the uncertainty ceased. Seeing his mother in distress Martin move forward quickly putting his arms round her and anxiously asking, "Mother, what's the matter, are you ill?"

Feeling his arms round her Ashley's mind began to clear. She felt secure and more certain of herself. "No darling," she said, "I think it's just the excitement of seeing you again, I'll be all right in a moment."

Martin continued to hold her, and he smelt the faint aroma of her perfume and became aware of the warmth and softness of her body against his and it was as if they had gone back two years.

Ashley, now recovered, made no attempt to move from his arms, for her part she sensed his strength and protectiveness. "I haven't even kissed you," she said.

It was Martin who amended this. Putting a hand on her cheek he bent his head to kiss his mother softly on the lips. "I've missed you so much," Ashley murmured.

12
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