I opened my eyes to see a short-haired woman clutching a dark brown handbag, wearing a white dress with black stripes. She was watching me intently.�...I beg your pardon?”“I said that I haven’t seen anyone enjoy a cup of bad coffee so much in my life.” Her voice was strong and confident, but her fingers twirled the straps of the bag nervously.“This is bad coffee?” It was the best thing I had ever tasted.“The worst. But that look of total contentment on your face is nice to see.”She sat down. “So I. I pulled the covers back on the bed real quick like and then helped mom sit down on the edge of the bed and got her legs up on the bed, then brought the covers up to her waist, "Now is this okay or not?" It is very good son, thank you."I went back to the master bathroom and picked up the skirt from the floor and returned back to the bedroom, "I'll throw this away then call in an order for our supper. Is there anything special that you want me to order for you mom?" No, what ever you order for. I was really happy and a satisfied man by this time and I told her she can ask any favor from me to this great fuck for which she simple smiled and kissed me on my lips.As promised, I stayed away from her and both of us avoided each other for a 2 weeks time. But I was really burning inside with passion to see her, talk her and love her but my promise kept me stopping from seeing her. The same time I can see the lust in her eyes whenever we used to meet accidentally.Time passed and again I was. It occurs to me that over the years I have entertained a hundred different dreams like that one. Sometimes they would plague me every time I would drift off to sleep. At times I would go as long as a year without a dream about my father. I never saw his face or heard his voice in the dreams. Truth be known, other than his grave marker I had no other identity for the old man in my dreams. I’ve only seen his face once, you see. In an old yellowed 5×7 picture. When I was about seven or eight I.
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