Mother of the Groom

EmpressJosephine

Mistress of Role-Plays
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Featuring:

Fauxnication as the Groom, Matthew McAllister; and

EmpressJosephine
as his Mother, Melinda McAllister.





 

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Feeling Empty

CHAPTER ONE: ALONE
Feeling Empty


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Melinda McAllister felt her age for the first time since turning fifty a little over two years ago. Matt, her loving son, her only child, had married that afternoon, leaving her and her husband Michael as classic empty-nesters.

“I’m off to bed,” Michael announced next to her, draining the last of his vodka martini and setting the glass on the bar. “Are you coming?”

“In a bit,” Melinda replied, holding up her still half-full gimlet for him to see through his bloodshot eyes. “Besides, it’s not like at home. There’s only one sink and toilet. You go get cleaned up for bed. I’ll be along presently.”

She watched Michael stagger out of the Hyatt’s bar. Much of the wedding party and quite a few guests had drifted down here after the reception ended at eleven. She wondered if Michael had lingered so long for the same reason as she had. Going to sleep tonight only hastened the morning when, after a champagne breakfast and gift opening, they would head back home alone.

She thought of their large house and its master suite with two sinks and toilets, making even a nice hotel room seem insufficient. Michael had insisted they buy it with its four bedrooms and three acres, as a symbol of his success, even though Matt had already reached high school at the time. Somehow, together, the three of them had made its three thousand square feet feel cozy and warm. Then Matt had left for college, started his own career, met Erica and, inevitably, in due course, just today, gotten married.

Since Matt left, their home had felt like an empty warehouse for their designer furniture. Even the one benefit Melinda had expected, a resumption of a daily and active sex life, had proved disappointing. Before they had Matt, Michael was a tiger between the sheets. Then, once Matt began toddling, Michael never again felt comfortable making love with him in the house. Now, in their fifties, the demands of his job and a case of mild ED meant their love life had improved very little.

At least Erica wouldn’t have that problem, Melinda thought, a sly smile gracing her lips. Once, while Matt visited from college during his freshman year, Melinda had walked in on him changing in the bedroom. For some reason, he had an erection (boys usually do at that age, it seems), and she stopped and gaped for a moment at its firm posture and significant size. Then his embarrassed shout made her realize the inappropriateness of the moment and she backed out of the room and slammed the door.

Erica deserved such a prize, Melinda nodded to herself, not just because of her sweet disposition, but because her lovely countenance and nubile form would look so appropriate writhing in ecstasy upon the nuptial bed sheets as Matt, with his handsome face and hard muscular body, made love to her. Melinda sighed, unable to get that image from her mind. Her loins tingled and she felt herself become hot and damp, despite the fact that even if she headed strait down to their room now, she knew she would find Michael already snoring in bed, unable to perform from a combination of age and alcohol.

“Bartender!” Melinda called to the petite young blonde behind the bar and held up her empty glass. “I have nowhere to be right now. You might as well make me another.”




 

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17, 16, 15, 14...

Matt McAllister watched the red digital display count down from the 18th floor as his elevator shaft descended toward the ground floor.

The entire day had gone off without a hitch, maybe even better than Erica and he could have ever hoped. The rain in the forecast held off just long enough for the two to exchange their vows in the rose garden, and the reception was a blast, with the newlyweds and their family and friends are celebrating their marriage and the beginning of their new lives together.

OK, so maybe it didn't go completely perfectly -- there was the matter of Erica having possibly one drink too many. Not much of a drinker, the bride downed a shot with her bridesmaids and other friends toward the end of the reception and wasn't feeling that great. After saying their goodbyes, Matt ushered Erica into the elevator and up toward their honeymoon suite at the Hyatt.

He helped her out of her dress and took her to bed, although not in the way he was hoping to when the day began. While laying next to Erica for the first time as man and wife, Matt began to get a little restless. He wanted to consummate his marriage by making passionate love with Erica throughout the night and into the next morning, but it wasn't going to happen with Erica being in her state.

Unable to fall asleep, he convinced himself that he needed another rum and Coke to help him doze off. With that, he rolled out of bed and tossed on the polo shirt he was planning to wear the next day and the pants of his tuxedo. After checking to make sure Erica was still OK (and she was), he left the suite and made the trip down to the bar.

3, 2, G...

The elevator reached the ground floor and Matt stepped off and in the direction of the lobby and the nearby bar. He did his best to avoid eye contact, not wanting to have to deal with questions from any wedding guests as to what he was doing alone on his wedding night.

Matt reached the bar and quickly settled into the nearest available stool. He grabbed the blonde bartender's attention, but she was busy making a drink for another patron. His eyes followed the cute bartender to -- his mother?

Matt surely wasn't expecting his mom to be sitting at the bar by herself, and while he didn't want to face the embarrassment of being caught, he would've been a fool to ignore the woman who did so much for him and helped him become the man Erica fell in love with.

After ordering his rum and Coke (and unfortunately having to pay for it), Matt wandered over to his mother and gave her a playful nudge.

"Mind if I join?" he asked, a small smile on his face.
 
Not What She Expected


The nudge felt intentional but friendly. Melinda recognized it. Some man would next beg pardon and offer to buy her a drink. She would, as she had countless times before, nonchalantly flash her wedding ring as she politely declined. Not that it bothered her to have men hit on her at her age. In fact, in her current mood, the implied compliment simply heightened her sexual tension.

“Mind if I join?” a surprisingly familiar voice asked. Melinda turned to find her son Matt smiling uncertainly at her. He remained in his tuxedo slacks and shoes, but now wore a teal polo shirt that appeared to have emerged too recently from a suitcase.

“Don’t take this wrong,” Melinda replied with a hint of concern creasing her usually smooth forehead. “I always treasure your company these days, but shouldn’t you be with your new bride?”

Again the image of Erica writhing in ecstasy upon her nuptial bed flashed in Melinda’s mind, made more distinct by gazing upon Matt’s handsome face as she pictured it. By this late hour, they should have consummated their marriage a couple of times at least. She could imagine only one thing that might bring Matt down here on his wedding night.

“Oh, Matt!” Melinda leaned in and whispered so no one else could hear, maternal concern none the less evident in her tone. “You two didn’t have a fight tonight, did you?”

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Matt saw the concern in his mother's eyes as she responded to his touch.

"Oh, Matt! You two didn't have a fight tonight, did you?"

He didn't intend to be rude, but he chuckled a little at her question. She was being typical Mom, but he was quick to assure her that there was no problem.

"No, no, not at all," Matt replied, pulling up a stool and plopping down on it. A wave of relief came over him now that he was able to sit down after being on his feet for most of the day. "Erica had a bit too much to drink and passed out..." He swirled the ice around in his near-empty glass. "...and I couldn't fall asleep, so here I am."

He raised his glass and gave his mother a small smirk. "I hope you don't mind the company. I'll probably just have one more and then try again..."

His voice trailed off a bit as he studied his mother's face. Even though she was in her 50s, she was still beautiful and kept herself in good shape. His friends gave him grief during his high school and college years for having a "hot mom," and he had to admit that he caught himself checking her out on occasion -- he was a warm-blooded male, after all.

"So did you enjoy yourself tonight?" he asked, changing the conversation to something more positive.
 
Maternal Priorities



“So,” Matt asked. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“Oh, yes,” Melinda answered her son immediately. “You know how I do love to socialize, and your father never seems to have the time. But that’s not what matters. This is your wedding day. Did you have a good time?”


 
Matt nodded affirmatively. "Oh, of course I did...I really don't think the day could've gone any better. Well, in most respects, anyway..."

His eyes looked toward the ground as he felt slightly embarrassed about sitting at a bar in the Hyatt on his wedding night instead of consummating his marriage.

"But hey, at least there's the rest of our lives to look forward to, right?" The frustration was becoming more evident on Matt's face as his gaze lifted to meet his mother's, although he tried to hide it as best he could.

"So where's Dad? Left you all alone tonight?" Matt asked. He lifted his glass to order another rum and Coke. "You want another?" he added, glancing down at his mother's drink.
 
Round Two



“You want another?” Matt lifted his glass and asked before Melinda answered his inquiry about her husband’s whereabouts.

“Why not?” she replied, draining her gimlet. She shook her empty glass toward the cute, petite blonde behind the bar, then clinked it against Matt’s empty glass. “Another round, Dear... and charge it to my room. I need this young man saving up so he can afford to give me grandsons to spoil.”

She turned back to Matt. “Your dad’s gone to bed. Like your bride, he’s had too much to drink. You need to understand how bittersweet today was for us,”

 
Matt took in a quick peek of the bartender's ass as she turned away from the bar to make the two another round of drinks. Look, but don't touch, he had to remind himself.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...what's this grandson talk?" Matt teased. "You need to wait at least a couple years for that. Erica and I need to have some fun first..."

As his mother told him that today was bittersweet, Matt frowned. "Bittersweet? Why's that?" he asked as the bartender brought back their drinks. He lifted his glass to hers for another toast.
 
Bittersweet



“‘Bittersweet’?” Matt asked. “Why’s that?”

“Really?” Melinda responded, never failing to marvel at the self-centered density of men and of offspring.

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“Your father and I couldn’t be happier for you today, of course. Erica is a sweet and wonderful young lady. That’s ‘bittersweet.’ It means you have your own family now. Ours will never be the same.”

A tear trickled down Melinda’s left cheek.




 

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Matt watched a lone tear trickle down his mother's cheek and felt his heart get heavy. Of course he was excited about moving on with marriage and the next part of his life, but it hurt him to see his mother crying.

"Oh, Mom," he said, lifting a finger to stop the tear, lightly tracing his right index finger up her cheek. "Don't cry...I know our family will never be the same, but now you get those grandkids you've been begging me for forever!"

He chuckled, trying to lighten her spirits, and then leaned in and softly pressed his lips to her cheek. "I love you," he whispered.
 
First Things First



“I love you, too,” Melinda replied, kissing Matt’s cheek in return. Then she set her hands to his shoulders and gently pushed him back so she could gaze into his eyes. “But I’ll never get those grandkids you promise if you set a precedent by spending your wedding night with me instead of your lovely bride.”

Without warning, a warm shiver ran down Melinda’s spine to rekindle her loins as, again, a vision of her new daughter-in-law Erica — writhing in ecstasy beneath Matt as they consummated their marriage — appeared unbidden in her mind.




 
Matt returned the look into his mother's eyes. It may have been the drinks, or it may have just been this deep desire finally surfacing, but he was starting to look at his mother in a lustful manner, rather than a loving one.

Her eyes were warm and inviting, and her touch, as gentle as it was, was something he so desperately needed at this point in the evening.

"My lovely bride is sleeping off her drunkenness right now, which is pretty unprecedented in itself," Matt replied, turning in his seat so that his body directly faced his mother's. And then he placed his hands on her knees, partially to steady himself...but partially to see how she'd react to his touch in an area he rarely touched her.

"So I don't think you have anything to worry about, as far as grandkids are concerned." He offered a warm smile.
 
Lingering Touch



Already feeling libidinous, Matt’s casual touch on her knees disturbed Melinda as a warm tingling moved up her thighs. She resisted the instinct to push his hands away. Doing so might hurt his feelings on top of their recent conversation about the changes in their family relationship. She also feared that if she did, he might suspect the real reason, that his touch now increased inappropriately her carnal needs.

Just then the bartender stepped up with their drinks.

“These will have to be your last, folks,” she explained. “I’m about to announce ‘last call.’”

Melinda frowned, not because of — indeed, in spite of — her inappropriate feelings at the moment. Rather, she did not want this time with Matt to end. Somehow, knowing that Matt and Erica had yet to officially consummate their marriage — although Melinda knew they had certainly made love many times before — maintained the illusion that Matt remained her little boy for a few short hours more. Spontaneously, she turned her head to the bartender. “Before you do, I’d like to order a bottle of Moët & Chandon Nectar Impérial, with two goblets. Again, charge it to my room.”



 
Matt's initial nervousness faded as Melinda didn't object to the position of his hands on her knees. She didn't seem to mind it, which allowed the fantasy sprouting inside Matt's head to grow even more.

He was abruptly brought back to reality by the bartender alerting the mother and son that it was last call for the evening. Matt frowned a bit, knowing time was getting short and that he'd have to return to his sleeping bride, all the while still feeling frustrated with the night's events.

But when his mom ordered the bottle of Moët with the two goblets, he figured the night may still be young, after all. He looked around and saw the patrons starting to clear out from the bar, likely retiring to their rooms for the night.

If he was going to do something, it had to be now.

"Wanna take that bottle up to one of our rooms? Looks like it's getting empty in here."
 
Plans within Plans



“Wanna take that bottle up to one of our rooms?” Matt asked after the bartender left to retrieve the Moët & Chandon Nectar Impérial Melinda ordered. “Looks like it’s getting empty in here.”

“Oh, not to one of our rooms,” Melinda replied. “We’d wake up our respective spouses. Or is that your plan, to have me help you wake up Erica?”


 
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Although Melinda sent Matt crashing back to Earth by reminding him of their spouses and not really having alone time, she did leave him an out.

"Well, we can wake her up after we do a little work on this," he replied with a laugh, gesturing toward the bottle on the bartop in front of them.
 
Nostalgia



“We’d wake up our respective spouses,” Melinda reminded Matt when he suggested they go back to one of their hotel rooms to drink the bottle of Moët & Chandon Nectar Impérial the bartender delivered as they spoke. “Or is that your plan, to have me help you wake up Erica?”

“Well,” Matt chuckled and nodded toward the champagne, sitting next to the untouched cocktails they had ordered moments earlier. “We can wake her up after we do a little work on this.”

The thought of accompanying Matt to the Honeymoon Suite where his new bride slept made Melinda tremble imperceptibly. Repeatedly this evening, the image of her new daughter-in-law writhing in ecstasy as Matt made love to her plagued Melinda’s imagination, invigorating lusty feelings in her loins. She worried about the effect of being in the same suite with the two of them.

Melinda had never told her husband, much less her son, about her lesbian experimentation back in college. Erica looked quite a bit like her lover back then, and had the same cute and quirky personality. In her current alcohol loosened state, Melinda worried she might let something secret slip if she spent time near the girl.

“Otherwise,” Melinda replied almost instantly. “I have the key to the suite we’re using for the gift opening tomorrow. It’s not as luxurious as your rooms, but we don’t have to worry about waking anyone. It’s your wedding night Matt; you choose.”

Standing up, she picked up the champagne flutes with her right hand, crossing them at the stems, and her gimlet with her left. Harkening back to a thing she got in the habit of saying to him as a boy, after the first time she read Shakespeare to him, she smiled. “Lay on, Matt-gruff, and darned be him that first cries, ‘Hold, enough!’”


 
Melinda's telling Matt that she had the key to the suite used for the gift-opening was music to the newlywed's ears. Alone time with Mom without the fear of waking someone up? The opportunity was too good to pass up.

"I would the friends we miss were safe arrived," Matt replied on cue and grabbed the bottle. The line seemed to fit, considering their "friends," their respective spouses, had fallen victim to booze.

"Now let's go up to that gift-opening suite. We have some champagne to drink." He smiled, letting his eyes trail over her body.

He stood up, a tad wobbly, and waited for his mother to join him so they could walk out together.
 
Elevated



Noticing Matt pick up only the champagne bottle and leave his cocktail abandoned and untouched, Melinda gulps down about half of her gimlet and sets the glass with the remainder on the bar. Wrapping her left hand around Matt’s elbow, they walk together across the plush lobby and to the elevators. Matt hits the “UP” button and they wait for the car.

Melinda draws a deep breath and sighs. She had read articles suggesting that many women have a surge in libido in the years before menopause, and she’s due. She simply did not expect it to manifest during her only son’s wedding. She takes respite in Matt’s decision that they drink the champagne in the empty suite they rented for tomorrow’s gift opening. She hopes that, alone with just him, the lewd images of Erica in the throes of nuptial passion will finally exit her imagination.

The elevator chimes and doors slide open. She and Matt step in together. She reminds him: “Sixteenth floor.”


 
Matt strolled across the bar, arm-in-arm with his loving mother. He glanced over at her periodically, studying her face as they waited for the elevator car to come for them.

Once it came, the two walked in together. Matt pressed the "16" button and stood next to Melinda as the doors closed in front of them.

It was silent as mother and son watched the counting up from G to 16. A short time later, the car reached its destination and the doors opened. Looking for a reason to touch his mother, Matt placed his hand on her lower back as they exited the elevator, letting her lead the way to the suite.
 
Suite Relief



Matt seemed oddly silent as they walked from the elevator to the suite rented for tomorrow’s gift opening. He’d had a long day, of course. For her part, Melinda felt invigorated. They would have one last night as mother and son before he started a new life with his own family.

She handed him the champagne flutes and dug into her purse for the card for this suite. She slipped it into the door hardware and heard a click as the little LED went from red to green. Opening it, she reached inside and pressed the light switch.

Matt and Erica’s wedding gifted filled a large buffet on one side of the room. On the other, next to a sofa that would fold out into an extra bed, a short hallway led to the suite’s bedroom and bathroom. That made Melinda smile.

“Open the bubbly, Dear,” she instructed Matt as she headed for the hallway. “I need to use the facilities.”



 
Matt held the champagne flutes in one hand and the bottle in the other while he waited for Melinda to open the door.

He followed her inside. The room was as his mother described; not as extravagant as the honeymoon suite, but nice nonetheless.

"Yes, ma'am," Matt replied. He set the flutes on the counter in the kitchen area, then proceeded to open the bottle of bubbly as instructed. He poured the glasses, then let them set on the counter while he walked over to inspect the presents.

"Hope you don't mind me taking a peek at these!" he called out to her with a smile on his face. It reminded him of how eager he would be to open presents on Christmas and his birthdays.
 
Old Habits



Melinda felt much more herself as she emerged from the bathroom. The lurid images had faded from her mind. She looked forward to a last private hour with her only son.

“Hope you don’t mind me taking a peek at these!” Matt called over his shoulder as she entered the suite’s livingroom. White and foil wrapped boxes for tomorrow morning’s gift opening covered the buffet on the far side of the room.

“You never could resist, could you?” Melinda laughed, thinking across two decades of Christmases and birthdays. “But the rule hasn’t changed. If you tear any of those wrappings, mama spank!”



 
"You never could resist, could you?" Melinda asked her only son as he stood among his and Erica's gifts.

"Of course not," Matt laughed. "Just because I got older doesn't mean I got any less nosy."

"But the rule hasn't changed. If you tear any of those wrappings, mama spank!"

Matt knew that his mother was just playing around, but a new wave of impure thoughts flooded his hormone-ridden head. Thoughts of her removing his pants to playfully swat his ass turned into images of his smacking her ass hard while he was thrusting into her from behind...

"Don't tempt me like that," Matt replied in a husky, flirtatious tone.

He moved away from the gifts and back toward the kitchen area, where he had set the two glasses of champagne. Handing one to Melinda, he raised his own.

"To...to us," he said, a small smile on his face while his eyes stared deeply into hers.
 
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