Chapter 18: Three Mothers’ Day
A few weeks later, Mama Mary’s children arranged a lovely Mother’s Day lunch at the Gutierrez household, inviting her immediate family plus Ann Johannsen from next door.
I tried to avoid socializing by offering to help prepare lunch, but Kaitlyn quietly shooed me away, saying, “Our mother, our lunch. Go! Try to fool the fam into believing you aren’t an incurable aspie!”
“If I must,” I grumped comically.
At my retreating back, she called, “Actually, go give Carmen her third trimester checkup! She’s overdue.”
I did some mental arithmetic and realized we were indeed about a week late, so the pair of us peeled in the living room, and I helped her waddle out into the retreat area, Miguel being busy getting in his little sisters’ way in the kitchen.
Since the last checkup, I’d made a study of hypercoagulability thromboses, so after checking that the fetus was now head-down in the womb and giving it a general health checkup, I dissolved a few micro-clots in her leg veins, working entirely through the pool’s silty translucence, physically touching Miguel’s wife only when directed by her demand for a quick underwater massage.
The relieving buoyancy seduced Carmen, so she was unwilling to abandon the pool until we were until called back inside for lunch.
I helped her out of the pool, then helped her shower the Colorado off before handing her back to Miguel, her husband escorting her inside as I saw to my own quick shower.
Lunch was wonderful, and of Mary’s kids’ gifts presented afterward, I thought the one Vin mailed was the best: a necklace with a large created ruby bordered by diamonds in a heart pattern, set in gold. I saw his girl Jess’ hand in that. Mary didn’t blame him for not wanting to drive 8 hours round trip for lunch, not even so special a one.
Mary was wearing Ramón’s gift, an elegant Sunday dress, matching necklace, and shoes.
Kaitlyn put a hand on my thigh under the table when she noticed my growing anxiety at not seeing an envelope containing a Davie Certificate. I thought I might be forced into unilateral action, but my wife smiled and nodded at me, so I calmed, catching her wordless hint, trusting her good judgement.
After the gifts, we spent a few hours playing games, during which a few more of the family peeled down to join Carmen and I in the buff, including Ann, who declared, “It’s Mother’s Day: I’ll dress as I like!”
When it came time for the group to start packing up to leave, Ann began, “Hey, thanks for inviting me over for this.”
Mary crushed her elderly bare friend in a hug before she could speak more, knowing that this was the only Mother’s Day celebration she was going to get, her kids all being a thousand miles or more from home and her husband two years gone. “Thanks for coming,” she replied upon letting go, escorting her friend into the living room, where her clothes were piled on a couch.
I caught a glint in Ann’s eye, and smiling knowingly at her, I observed, “You can streak the lane if you want on Mother’s Day, too, though I’d advise wearing shoes!”
Ann smiled back and asked, “You think I could get away with that today?”
I offered, “I’ll escort you, if it’ll help.”
“Bare?” she asked, and at my nod said, “You’ve got a deal, young man!”
Once Ann had her shoes on and I had the rest of her things bundled under one arm, the other elbow held out to support her, I led her to the sliding glass back door, then thru the Gutierrez’ corn field with the family’s cheers at our back, thru my in-laws’ tractor gate, across the lane, and thru Ann’s own field gate, the alfalfa tickling our thighs and other bits most of the way to her back door.
“There, daring enough for you, Ann?” I asked the old dear on handing her clothing bundle over.
“Hooh!” she breathed out in her excitement, then fetched me a cookie for my escort services, handing it over with a flush and a declaration, “Plenty daring indeed!”
I pulled on an invisibility cloak before stepping out onto her back patio, deciding that a solo nude dude streaking the farms south of Moab was far more likely to result in a call to the police than me escorting Ann arm-in-arm. My sense is that it’d be at least twice as alarming to the general public, not half. People are strange.
On my way back, I observed that both farms’ fields were still doing well. It was too early to claim that our magical fertilization was the cause, but it had at least not hurt their productivity.
I arrived in time to hear Miguel calling, “Bye, mama! Happy Mother’s Day!” from the front door, Carmen on his arm, dressed and grinning at my surprise reappearance in a “no I will not be streaking home too, you loon” sort of way.
After they left, Ali coyly said, “I should go give my respects to Mrs. Taylor,” referring to her prospective mother-in-law. We knew she really wanted to see her fiancé, but no one called her on her obfuscation.
That left Kaitlyn and I alone with her parents. My wife gave me a bit of a turn, saying, “Davie, papa and I are going to go sort out that drainage issue we have with the garden.”
Our outdoor shower was working fairly well, but we were having trouble getting even watering over the vegetable garden’s span, the edge nearest the shower getting flooded while the furrows’ far ends remained dry.
“As a farmer,” Kaitlyn continued, “dad’s been sorting that kind of thing out for decades, you know? Anyway, you need to stay here, Davie.”
Then she gave me a peck on the lips and left without another word, taking her father with her.
On turning back from the window, waving her good-byes, Mary walked into the kitchen and slid an envelope out from under a canister rack on the counter, handing it to me. I was pretty sure what I’d find within, but I opened the envelope and read the paper inside anyway:
This Certificate good for Devindra Bhat’s Time to be used as specified by the recipient, Mary O’Kieran Gutierrez.
Expires on Mother’s Day, midnight.
Signed, Kaitlyn Amber Gutierrez and Ramón Juan Fuentes y Gutierrez.
“So, midnight,” I began with a smile; “do you suppose nine hours will be sufficient?”
She smirked back, then reminded me, “We cheated on the limit last time. They gave us two hours, and we went something like three. Maybe that’s why they set such a high limit.”
“Maybe,” I replied, knowing that wasn’t the reason but unwilling to tell her that this one was effectively open-ended for the same reason any major surgery was: I simply had no idea how long this was going to take, and Kaitlyn knew it too, so she’d written the certificate thus. I certainly hoped it wouldn’t take until midnight, though!
“You really do look great,” I told her.
“Not bad for fifty-one, eh?”
“Not bad for thirty-one,” I replied.
“Oh, you sweet boy,” she said as she pulled my face down for a long, slow, passionate kiss, me fully bare, she very much not.
We made out for perhaps a quarter hour as I slowly removed her new Sunday outfit. We continued rolling on her bed kissing and groping well after I tossed the last of her clothing aside until she said, “Take me now. I’m ready.”
I’d been prepared to give her a good licking first, but I wasn’t going to countermand her orders, so I easily slipped most of my length into her warm, wet, matronly passage, eliciting a long, low moan.
“Oooooo, I’ve missed my Big Davie soooo much!”
She was indeed ready!
I began pumping Mary hard and fast, guiding my strokes with feedback from her own sensations, bringing her to her first orgasm just a minute into the work. I reflected as much of her mundane sex magic back into her body as I could, directing it into the nearest tumor. Mary’s no mage, so it wasn’t much power to work with, but the metastatic beastie shrunk a smidge!
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiyiiiiieeeee!” she squealed into my ear, pulling my body down to hers in a tight embrace, her orgasm thrilling through her, stilling my motion. I didn’t mind: she was a lovely sight in that state, I a joyful spectator of it.
I was about to begin work on her second orgasm when she said, “I don’t know how, but you’ve been holding back on me!”
Thinking of the orgasm barrier Kristen co-invented with us, I admitted, “I learned a new skill recently,” speaking as humbly as I could manage.
“Ooooh, you certainlyeee-yeeee-yeeeee did!” she said, ending on a squeak as I resumed stroking inside her, intent on going after the metastatic spread, including a few new ones since my initial diagnosis last month.
In this way, I was able to pack my power reserve tightly with generated sex magic before her second orgasm hit, releasing my combined load within her body, focusing the magical half on that first tumor I targeted earlier. Zappo! One down, over a dozen still left, so I kept at it: generate and zap, generate and zap, generate…and…zap!
Mary was on her eighth vaginal orgasm of the session when she begged, “Oooooh, too much, Davie, too much!”
I wasn’t done; although I’d been able to blast a few of the smaller groups of cancers with a single shot of magic, they weren’t all gone yet, so I kept building her arousal up, packing one last tight reservoir of power, deciding to culminate the session with a broad-spectrum hit over her whole body.
“Ayaiyaihai Davie!” she cried.
“Gimme one more big O, Mary! Just one more to finish!”
“Yes, Davie, make me give it up!”
“Make me!” she screamed, lustily whipping her head back and forth on the pillow.
“Give…it…up!” I yelled back.
Though seemingly pumping like a madman, I was using her own body’s sensations to guide my strokes, lifting her to an inevitable climax as fast and powerfully as I could manage, my every sexual skill stretched to its limit.
“Oooooeeeeeeyyaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa!” she screeched in her ninth orgasmic release of the afternoon, bringing me along with her.
“Grrrrraaaaaaahh!” I cried, pancaking her body with magic, as concentrated as I could get it while still covering everything.
And with that, the remaining tiny tumors evaporated! I fixed everything, even her ragged vocal cords, plus probably other things I didn’t even see below my threshold of discernment!
As Mary’s pounded pussy pulsated my priapic probe, I kissed her long and slow, soothing her cries into gasps, rolling to pull her sweaty body atop mine, letting her collapse there in my arms.
When her breathing calmed, she said, “That was special, wasn’t it? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were in passionate love with me, about to leave Kaitlyn, but instead, I think you did that with a different sort of serious purpose.”
I sighed. “Caught me. Your cancer metastasized. We saw it back during the welcome-home massage last month.”
“I thought you two got way too serious halfway through,” she said. “Can’t fool mama.”
I laughed. “Maybe we shouldn’t try, but I wanted to give you a secret gift.”
“It was very nice anyway, my strange son-in-law.”
“It’s no mystery that I’m attracted to you, Mary: half Kaitlyn’s genes are yours; more than half her home-nurtured personality as well.”
She kissed me again with feeling, then proposed, “Shower? Outside this time?”
“Sure, Mama Mary, you’ve got it.”
As with all prior Certificate couplings, we had one last quickie in the shower, though being outside this time, we had to be quieter about it. I was certain I could make Mary cry her final orgasm loud enough to carry to the Johannsen farm, but I had no wish to shock my friend Ann.
I took the opportunity to take a good magical look at the sand box under the outdoor shower there in the Gutierrez family’s back yard. It was working much as the one in our yard: the daily sun-baking disinfected it reasonably well, but I sent a cleansing pulse of magic down into it, thoroughly cleaning the sand even though I was sure it was a drygasm. Most gratifying.
Perhaps I’d have to come back and repeat the cleaning some number of times a year…just to be sure, you know? The only thing I wasn’t certain about was whether I’d be doing it with Kaitlyn or Mary.