The Lottery – Chapter 5
Something moving under my hand woke me up. Blinking my eyes open, I found myself on my side, my arm draped across Mom’s stomach as she lightly snored. Sometime during the night, we had shifted in our sleep until we were sleeping side by side. If I were a few inches closer to Mom, I would have been the big spoon to her smaller one, except she slept on her back.
With a sliver of light shining in between the curtains playing across her chest, I could see her profile. Our heads were nearly touching, and when I looked at Mom’s chest, even her little nipples were clearly outlined under her cami’s sheer fabric. Her boobs appeared even flatter than normal as she lay on her back.
That’s when I noticed a twitch between my legs. My morning wood reminded me of two things. The first, I had to piss. The second, last night’s promise to not think sexy thoughts about Mom was as dead as a doornail. I knew I would never try to peek under the flimsy fabric to see what I imagined were her delightful breasts, but I couldn’t shake thinking about what those boobs looked like as I stared at her form.
That only made my erection worse. As quiet as I could, I slipped a hand inside of my new briefs, and played with my dick. I was too close to Mom to do anything more than just squeeze it and make it feel a bit better. That was fun until I remembered how badly I had to piss. I slipped back onto my side of the bed and then crawled out and hurried to the bathroom. I was nearly totally soft by the time I finished peeing. Just thinking about Mom brought my erection back. I felt guilty as I wrapping my fingers around my erection and stroked. I filled my mind with what I imagined hid under Mom’s cami-top. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the toilet seat as my fingers teased the familiar tingling sensation from by balls and dick.
I beat off faster, the fapping of my hand smacking against my pelvic bone was the only noise I heard. I felt my balls constrict and a moment later, my eyes grew crossed as my orgasm ran from my brain all the way down to my toes, although it was the portion of my body pointing straight out that felt the best. My clear, watery ejaculate splattered on my chest while my dick spasmed in my fingers. The second little blast puddled in my belly button.
After cleaning up, I found Mom was still asleep when I came back to bed. The alarm clock showed it was just a few minutes after seven. We had nowhere to be, and time was hardly something to worry about. So, I slipped back under the covers, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I scooted back into the middle of the bed and rolled back onto my side facing Mom and enjoyed looking at her. Now that I wasn’t particularly horny, I could enjoy looking at her without getting stiff.
Perhaps I had noticed before, but I don’t recall. But gazing upon her, it dawned on me, cleaned up and rid of Earl, Mom could pass as a teenager. Perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Maybe even younger. Would people who don’t know us possibly mistake us for girlfriend and boyfriend? I was, after all, an inch taller than her.
When Mom finally stirred and her eyes cracked open, she smiled when she saw me next to her, “Good morning, Pooh Bear. How’d you sleep?”
I stifled a yawn, “Pretty good. You?”
She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, “Wonderful. Best sleep in a long time. I woke up at one point and we had moved to the center of the bed. I know you’re nearly a teenager and not a little boy any longer, but it felt nice sleeping beside you.”
I certainly enjoyed waking up next to Mom, but I couldn’t admit to it, not to her. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was perving her. Instead, I said, “Yeah, it was nice. You still want to go buy some new cell phones?”
Mom nodded, “Yeah. Then we can go out for lunch.”
She threw back the covers, exposing her panties. But within a minute or two, we were both dressed and ready to begin a new day.
A few hours later, we both had the latest iPhones with new phone numbers. Mom and Earl never had the money to get me a phone, even when most of the kids in the junior high had phones. Now, I was holding a phone worth a couple of weeks’ of Earl’s salary. That reminded me of something Grant had told me when I had recounted some of the abusive things Earl had done to me and mom. The best revenge is living well.
Once we walked out of Best Buy, my stomach growled. We had skipped breakfast. Mom must have heard it. She hooked her arm around one of my elbows, “Well, Mr. Lambert, now that you’ve made sure I have a cell phone, what do you have in mind now?”
I giggled at being called Mr. Lambert. About the only time I had ever been called that was when I was in school and a teacher was pissed at me. The look Mom gave me left me a bit unsettled. While I had never seen her look at Earl that way, I had seen some girls at school looking at some high school guys like that. I decided to ignore the glance she gave me, “I saw a restaurant on the way over here called the Tamale House. How does Mexican sound?”
Mom leaned in to me, “Sounds wonderful.”
As we got into the rented Maserati, she said, “This all feels like a dream, Robin. To think, everything we’ll ever need is practically at our finger tips.”
I fastened my seatbelt, “It’s a new life, Mom. Grant said we could treat this like a blank slate. Be who we want to be.”
Mom reached across the console, “Today, Pooh, let’s pretend we’re on a first date. We can pretend we’ve just met and we’re getting to know each other for the first time.”
Before the past few days, the notion of going on a date with my mom would have been very far down the list of things I wanted to try. That would not have kept me from agreeing, just that I might have done it under duress. I love my mom and would have done just about anything to make her hard life less so. Now, though, my preteen hormones liked the idea. A lot.
I may have liked the idea, but that didn’t keep my voice from cracking, “Sure, that sounds fun.”
When we arrived at the restaurant, I hopped out of the car, and raced to open Mom’s door, and offered her my hand. Mom was wearing a new halter top she’d gotten at Macy’s, as well as a skirt that ended hallway up her knees. When she accepted my hand and climbed out of the seat, for the shortest of moments, I could have sworn I saw her panties.
She took me by my arm, “My, my, Mr. Lambert, you’re quite the gentleman.”
When we got to the restaurant’s double doors, I jumped ahead and held one open for Mom. Even though it was lunch, the rush wasn’t bad, and they seated us right away. Mom rested her hands on her menu, “This is so much fun. I’m glad you talked me into coming here, Mr. Lambert.”
I knew Mom was into our little role-play, but hearing her call me Mr. Lambert a second time sounded weird. I was awkward, reaching across the table and placing my hand over hers. “Please, call me Robin.”
A tinge of red in her cheeks, Mom said, “Very well… Robin. Please call me Sam. It’s short for-“
I finished for her, “Samantha. That’s a pretty name.”
I’d always thought so, but had never found a way to tell her. When the waitress came and took our order, we split a big order of fajitas. Mom looked at the drinks menu, but stuck with tea. After the waitress disappeared, Mom said, “So, Robin, tell me about yourself.”
What didn’t she already know? But this was a game, so I thought for a moment, “I recently moved to Texas from Louisiana.”
“Is that all? Surely there’s more to a handsome young man than that.”
I flushed at hearing her call me handsome. “Um, even though I’m tall for my class, I kinda suck at sports,” I chuckled as a thought came to mind. “But if playing games on my PlayStation was an Olympic sport, I’d probably get a gold medal.”
Answering questions was hard. It was my turn, “Um, S-, Sam, what about you?”
Mom offered a smile, “What a coincident. I also just moved here from Louisiana. I can’t imagine ever going back. I just broke up with a real jerk, to put it mildly. I’m actually planning on staying in Texas for a while.”
I returned her smile, “I like it here too. What’s something you want to do here that wasn’t possible before?”
Mom smiled wistfully, “I want to go to the beach, stick my toes in the white sand and walk hand in hand alongside the ocean with someone handsome, like you.”
I thought Mom was laying it on pretty thick, but it fed my ego, so I didn’t mind. Before I could think of a response, I heard and smelled our food. The sound sizzling meat makes on an iron skillet is distinct, the aroma of well-seasoned fajita meet straight off the grill was just as unique.
We talked a bit more while we ate, Mom playing the role of a teenaged girl and me playing the role of a young teenaged guy. It was fun, learning things about her, like her favorite toys as a girl, were her Bratz dolls.
After lunch, I paid for it with a debit card I now carried in my wallet. As we left the restaurant, Mom slipped her hand into mine, “That was a delightful meal, Pooh-, um, Robin.”
I opened the driver’s door and before she got in, she leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. Going around to the passenger door, my stomach was all aflutter. That was the second time in two days she had planted a kiss on my cheek. Back when we had lived with Earl, she stopped kissing my cheek at bedtime a long time ago. These kisses felt nothing like the little bedtime kisses when I was six or seven. It was also a reminder that after so many years of being under Earl’s heel, Mom was blossoming again. And I was right there beside her, watching it happen.
We spent the afternoon at one of the local malls, picking up more stuff we needed or wanted. More clothes for Mom, a new laptop for me; you know, mostly the essentials. We ate dinner at one of the restaurants in the mall and once again, Mom talked me into role playing our second date. The most awkward moment came when she ordered a glass of wine.
“Ma’am, can I see your ID, please?” the waiter said, as he held a tablet into which he had keyed the order.
Mom pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him. His eyes bugged out, and he said, “I’ll have that glass of Moscato out in a moment, Ms. Lambert.”
I couldn’t help but to giggle, all pretense at dating gone in that moment, “That’s what happens when you look so young and pretty, Mom.”
She looked down at the table, a hint of embarrassment at her cheeks, “You really think I’m pretty? After so long dealing with Earl’s put downs and abuse, I stopped feeling pretty a long time ago.”
I glanced and saw our waiter serving another table, and I stretched my hand across the table and took hers, “Of course you are. If this were a real date, I’d say something like this, Samantha, um, Sam, I’m really glad I met you. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Even though you’re a few years older, you’d make me the happiest guy in the world if you’d be my girlfriend.”
I blushed furiously and pulled my hand back, feeling I’d gone too far, even though every word was the truth. I added, “Well, that’s what I’d say if this were real.”
Mom’s hand snaked across the table to where mine retreated and she took it, “God, why can’t this be real, Robin? Not yet thirteen and you ‘re far more of a man than your father or Earl could ever have hoped to be.”
There was a sadness in her eyes as she continued, “I feel the same way you do. Any girl who gets you as a boyfriend will be the luckiest girl. You’re sweet, kind, and considerate. You’d be amazed at how many guys don’t have those traits. Worse, yet, how many girls think they want the bad boy because he’s exciting, only to realize after they’ve nearly destroyed their lives, what they really need is someone like you, Robin.”
The rest of the meal was slightly melancholy. Seeing the girl inside Mom, who she would have been had my father and Earl not hurt her so much, was a revelation. There has never been a point in my life where I didn’t love my mom. But, seeing her across the table, I realized I really liked her. Not as Mom, but as Sam, a beautiful young woman, now liberated from the prison of past relationships. Still, as much as this shifted how I saw her, it didn’t change the nature of our underlying relationship. Sam was still my mom, and I was still her son, even if our relationship was undergoing a metamorphosis.
The sun was low in the sky as we left the restaurant. My only familiarity with alcohol was watching Earl abuse it. When we reached the car, I said, “Are you okay to drive, um, Sam?”
Mom took me by the hand, “Yes. One glass of wine doesn’t affect me like that. Half a bottle though, and you’d be driving me home.”
Mom’s back leaned against the car’s roof, inside the open car door, still holding me by the hand. Even though my hand was sweaty, I enjoyed her touch. I squeezed hers gently, wishing our day of role-playing wasn’t coming to an end. “Okay. Thanks for going on a date with me. I really enjoyed it.”
Mom returned my squeeze. Mine wasn’t the only sweaty hand, “Me too, Robin. I can’t remember enjoying myself like this ever. I hope you ask me out again soon.”
Still holding my hand, Mom leaned forward, closing about half the distance between the two of us. After a day of being with her like this, my instincts sent the fluttering in my stomach into overdrive. Her eyes held a look of expectation. My breath caught in my throat as realization hit. She was waiting for a kiss.
I leaned forward, closing the gap until my face was just a few inches away from hers. I hadn’t expected this and worried I was misreading her signs, I whispered, “This okay?”
Mom gave a slight nod, closing the gap until our faces were within in inch of each other. Then, trying to muster control of my emotions, I closed the rest of the distance until I felt the soft flesh of Sam’s lips against mine. The fluttering only intensified as my heart pounded in my chest. Surely, she could hear it. Beyond the slightly spicy taste of fajitas on her lips, there was more to the taste than simply dinner. Something my mind defined as Sam, as Mom.
Only a second or two passed before our lips parted, but in those few heartbeats, I realized I enjoyed this, my first kiss. My emotions were too jumbled to know if it was just the act of kissing someone, or if it was because of who I kissed. But I knew as I climbed into the car, I wanted to feel the magical touch of Mom’s lips on mine again, even though on some basic level I knew I shouldn’t.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Mom glanced over at me with a pensive look on her face, “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, Robin.”
I raised a hand to my lips and touched it with a finger. I could almost feel them tingle. How could something that felt so right be wrong? Despite that internal struggle, my lips involuntarily curled into a smile, “I, uh, I liked it, Mo-, ah, Sam.”
Telling Mom how much I liked the kiss seemed weirder than telling Samantha how much I liked it. Her pensive expression evaporated and her smile matched mine, “Thanks, Robin. Me too.”
We were silent on the drive back to the hotel, each of us lost in our thoughts. After parking the car, Mom and I walked along a sidewalk beside the river behind the hotel. She took hold of my elbow as we walked along. After a bit, she said, “I wonder how things would have turned out for us had you not found the lottery ticket. Living in our car was rough, and we were both pretty stressed about it. There was no guarantee I’d have gotten that next job, and things were bad.”
My hand slipped into hers, seeking comfort from the memory. “Yeah. It wasn’t much fun.”
It might have been even worse. In my darkest thoughts when I’d been sleeping in the car behind that abandoned building in Texarkana, I had nightmares of Mom returning to Earl, crushed and defeated. The fate that led me to the lottery ticket had saved both of us.
“Now, we can go where we want, do what we want. It’s hard for this Louisiana girl to wrap my head around.”
I squeezed her hand, “At least we’re together.”
She squeezed back, “I know. Thank God. I couldn’t have imagined that pretending to go on dates would be so much fun with you. I wish…”
Still holding my hand, Mom fell silent. I knew how she felt. No doubt, she mirrored my own feelings, even if it felt incredibly weird wishing I could date my mom. Seeking validation, I asked, “What’s that, Sam? What do you wish?”
Mom leaned her head against my shoulder, “I like it when you call me Sam. In those moments it lets me believe we really are dating.” She sighed, “God, I must sound like a silly girl, pining after my own son.”
I stopped. Behind us was the hotel, rising into the night sky. In front of us was the river. And we were alone. “I don’t think you’re silly. I think you’re wonderful. I wish we could date. Maybe we can at least pretend to.”
Mom’s arms reached around my chest and drew me into a hug, “Thanks, Pooh, um, I mean Robin. I can hardly wait for you to ask me out again.”
The sun had been down for a bit and the early spring weather grew cool, leaving us chilled, me in my shorts and Mom in just her skirt and halter top. We soon retreated to our hotel room, where housekeeping had remade our bed and cleaned the bathroom. Mom got a shower first and then I got mine next. It still felt surreal coming out of the bathroom wrapped in only my towel, seeing Mom lying on the bed in just her underwear and cami-top, although if it were possible for her to look even better than the previous night, somehow, she managed it.
When I slid under the covers, I moved closer to the middle. Mom shifted over until I felt her smooth leg brush against mine. I nearly flinched at the warmth of her leg, instead, I left my leg where it was as Mom settled in by my side. Since coming back into the hotel, I’d been thinking about Mom and what to do next. I said, “I was thinking, tomorrow, if you want, we can check out and drive down to South Padre Island. Maybe stay there for a bit. What do you think about that, Mom?”
Mom threw her arms around me and squeezed me in a bear hug, “Oh, Robin, that would be so much fun. Seriously?”
I basked in the embrace. She pushed her boobs against my ribs, which resulted in something stirring in my underwear. Fortunately, the covers were thick and didn’t give away my predicament. I said, “Sure, Mom. We can stay there as long as we want.”
Mom said, “Thanks for thinking of me, Robin,” Still holding me, her voice grew quiet and low, “Um, Robin, would you do me one favor, please?”
She was holding me; her boobs against my chest. She could have asked for almost anything and I would have given it to her, were it in my power. “Yeah, sure.”
Mom said, “I love how you called me Sam or Samantha during our dates today. I’d really like it if you’d call me by my name from now on.”
I grew warm, feeling her body heat against me. One reason I enjoyed calling her Sam on our dates was because it was easier to think about her as a young woman instead of my mom; it was more intimate. “Yeah. If you’d like, um, Sam.”
When she finally leg go the hug, she said, “Cool. Then it’s Robin from here on. No more Pooh or Pooh Bear. Those were nice names for my little boy, but not appropriate for a handsome young man.”
After watching a TV show, Mom turned out the light. I had just fluffed my pillow and rested my head on it, when I felt Mom turn toward me. Her body moved against mine until I felt her hand on my face. Her lips found mine. The kiss was brief, but it still took my breath away. When she pulled back, she said, “Good night, Robin. I love you.”
My heart was racing as I stammered, “G-, goodnight, Sam. I love you too.”
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