Of Mothers and Milfs Pt. 01

"Okay, I'll try."

"I think Alina has some helpful suggestions for you as well," Emil said before taking his leave and moving on to the next couple.

Charlie looked at his mother, who was watching him intently, with sympathy...and curiosity.

I think I know what it is, Charlie thought to himself, but how could I possibly tell her?

Alina soon arrived. She smiled at Amy "You're doing wonderfully, Amy. I think you have something that not everybody has—a natural ability to convey your feelings and emotions with your movements and expressions. Your dancing shows your deep connection with your partner." She paused and glanced a Charlie.

"Thank you, Alina."

"It's clear to me that there's potential for good chemistry and expressiveness between you and Charlie when you dance." She paused and looked at Charlie again. "If only..." Her voice tapered off.

Charlie shifted his weight uncomfortably, still unnerved by what Emil had said. Alina smiled at him with what seemed to him sympathy.

"Charlie, Dear," Alina said. "I know Emil told you you're holding yourself back. To get past that, you need to trust your emotions...you need to allow people to see them in your dancing, let them see your connection with your partner. I'm not talking about your physical ability to dance, I know you have that."

Aline stepped back a few steps and smiled at him again.

"Come dance with me."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Dance with you?" he stammered, while Amy grinned in amusement.

"Yes, come."

Charlie obeyed and they assumed the waltz position.

"We're going to dance a little bit," Alina said. "You'll take the lead as usual, but I'll... oh, take the lead in expressiveness, so to speak. I want you to try and follow my lead in showing our connection through the way I do the steps, through the way my body moves...how it responds to you...and the way I look at you. Okay?"

"I'll try," Charlie croaked.

So they danced. As they did so, Charlie couldn't believe what was happening...dancing with the beautiful and exotic Alina Lovinescu...holding her in his arms. He felt transported to a magic place of some sort, his emotions soaring, his heartbeat quickening. He soon began to understand the emotional release Alina wanted of him, and to feel it. He watched her movements, but more importantly he sensed the essence of them. The way her body moved, the way her eyes melted into his, the impossible-to-describe expressions of her face, the meaning of her smile...how all these things flowed together into one wonderful and moving whole. He tried to let himself go...to be like Alina.

"Charlie, much better," she said softly. "Give yourself the freedom to express your love through dance. Let it flood the stage and engulf the audience." She stepped closer and whispered in his ear "I know you can do it." Then Alina kissed him on the cheek.

After a hour, the class took a break and most people gathered in the pantry. In a few moments, Amy slipped away to go to the restroom. As she was washing her hands, the door opened and one of the older women, Felicity Armisted, came in. Amy looked up and smiled at her.

"Hello, Dear," Felicity said, looking at Amy with a knowing smile on her lips. "I've been wanting to tell you how lucky I think you are to have such a young and handsome lover."

Startled, Amy looked at Felicity, unable to think how she could have drawn such a conclusion, or how to respond to it. She opened her mouth to correct Felicity's assumption...but, on an inexplicable impulse, gave her a conspiratorial smile instead. "Yes, I'm very lucky."

When she returned to the dance floor, she whispered to Emily what Felicity had said. They thought it was amusing, charming even, and they laughed softly. As they laughed, the preposterous idea of Charlie as her lover flitted through Amy's mind like a trouble-making sprite.

Walt and Emily cooked dinner together that evening, Emily teaching him her family recipe for bison chili with Guajilla chiles and pinto beans.

"Wow Mom, this is the best chili I've ever eaten," Walt said, his eyes watering from the smokey heat of the chiles.

Later than night, they danced, as they had done every night since the first dancing class. And they, as they had started to do, eventually abandoned the waltz and settled into a slow dance, Emily's arms around Walt's neck, her head resting on his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her.

That morning, Walt had made a playlist to facilitate this transition, a playlist of waltz music eventually changing to carefully selected romantic ballads. They danced slowly, mother and son, their feelings of connection heightened by the moving melodies and heartful lyrics of the songs, feeling happy and secure in each other's arms.

"Oh," Emily said, raising her head. "I forgot to tell you. One of the professors in the History Department is from China, Jinlong Hua. He teaches ancient and medieval Chinese history. I think you met him once in my office."

"I remember."

"Well, his wife teaches classes on Chinese cooking at their home Saturday mornings. She's going to start a new class next Saturday...I think it's five sessions."

Walt looked at her and smiled. "Hestia must favor you."

Emily laughed. "Thank God, Oizys must have finally found someone else to torment."

"Who?"

"Oizys, Goddess of Misfortune and similar Olympian chicanery."

Walt smiled to himself—his mother seldom used such words. "I see. The bitch certainly keeps herself busy doesn't she?"

"Indeed she does. Anyway, I'd like to go to her class and learn Chinese cookery. You up for it?"

"Of course Mom. Let's do it.

Emily smiled and laid her head back on Walt's shoulder.

While Emily and Walt danced in each other's arms, Amy and Charlie danced outside in the moonlight.

As they danced, Charlie thought about the connection he and Alina had made. How her movements and expressions created a desire in him to connect with her, a desire that seemed to arise in his heart and flow through his mind and body. It wasn't necessarily erotic, but that Alina had somehow given him the self-awareness to break the bonds that constrained him. As he and Amy waltzed, his dancing became more emotional, more expressive. Charlie felt the change in their dancing...his change, his dancing...and their connection. A flood of love for her cascaded through his mind and flowed to her through his touch, his movements, and his eyes.

Amy soon noticed something was different, something she couldn't pinpoint. Charlie seemed more attentive to her, he held her closer, his embrace more tender, their bodies lightly touching. He made more eye contact and held it longer, and she saw love glistening in his eyes. Wordlessly he heightened her emotions, and her sense that they were merely waltzing faded away, to be replaced by something more important.

Charlie's emotions became overwhelming and he stopped moving; he wanted to hold her now. Amy looked at him and silently waited. He encircled her with his arms and drew her closer to him. She welcomed the embrace and put her arms around his neck and her cheek to his. They slowly danced.

"Charlie," Amy whispered, her lips almost touching his ear. "This is amazing...so different...so...so..." She paused, not sure what it was. Moments passed before she resumed.

"Emil told you he thought you're afraid to commit yourself to the dance, right?"

"Yeah."

"It was Alina's doing though, wasn't it? She showed you how to let go, how to really commitment yourself..." Amy hesitated, not wanting to seem to be prying. But she resumed. "You don't have to tell me Charlie, if you don't want to, but I'm curious how she did it."

Between Emil's words to him and dancing with Alina, Charlie realized that he had purposely kept himself from showing emotion...had danced like he was made of concrete, and now understood why. He feared that people would sense that he had feelings for his mother that a son shouldn't have.

"I guess I didn't understand the importance of emotion in dancing, Mom," he said. "But I'm okay with it now."

"You sure seem to be," Amy whispered in his ear, then kissed him on the cheek.

They danced quietly for a while, swaying in the moonlight to Walt's tender love songs. Then Amy raised her head and looked at Charlie.

"Honey, I forgot to tell you...Felicity, in the dance class, you remember her, right?"

"Sure."

"I was in the restroom and she came in...and she..." Amy chuckled then said "She told me how lucky I was to have such a...and these are her words...such a young and handsome lover."

"Really? She said that to you?"

"She did,"

"What did you say."

Amy laughed. "I was going to tell her you're my son...but...

"But what?

"I just smiled at her and said "Yes, I'm very lucky."

"Wow, Mom," Charlie said laughing. "You're a riot. Did you enjoy letting her think we're lovers?"

Amy hadn't expected such a question and it released a tsunami of conflicting emotions and thoughts. The question pierced her rationale that it was merely an amusing thing to do like an arrow hurtling its way to the heart of the matter. With a shock, she realized she didn't know what the heart of the matter really was...and she remembered Charlie's erection. She was slow to answer.

"I suppose, Charlie, my Dear...but I'm no cougar."

* * *

Walt had breakfast ready when Emily came downstairs the next morning. They had their usual wide-ranging morning conversation while drinking coffee and eating breakfast. Eventually Walt got up to clear the table.

"I have to go to campus for a few hours," Emily said.

"Okay, Mom."

She rose and kissed him on the cheek. "See you later, sweetheart."

Emily got home in the middle of the afternoon. On the kitchen table was a note from Walt: I'm at Charlie's, be home before dinner. Kiss and a hug.

Emily smiled and went upstairs to her bedroom. When she walked in she saw that Walt had done the laundry. On her bed was a stack of folded clothes; on the top were panties, folded, and several bras draped over them. On the very top of the pile was a single red rose.

Emily contemplated the rose for a while. Then she picked it up, savored its floral scent, then touched it to her cheek.

* * *

Saturday morning found Emily and Walt in the kitchen of Professor Jinlong Hua's house. Three other students, Holden and Connie Marcent and their daughter Fiona, were also there and they all stood looking across a large island at Jinlong's wife Jingjing. On the island sat two woks on some sort of portable burners, a wide flat metal spatula, shaped much like a spade with a long wooden handle, empty bowls, knives of several sizes, and a collection of seasonings and sauces.

"Ni hou... hello," Jingjing said, smiling. "You might get a smattering of Mandarin this morning. To start, I'll go over some basics and talk a little bit about the tools you'll need if you want to cook authentic Chinese food." As she spoke, a young woman came into the kitchen and stood next to her.

"Oh, here's Julie, my daughter" Jingjing said. "She's going to be helping with the class today." Walt looked at her, a petite Chinese girl with long black hair and sparkling black eyes, dressed in a dark blue tee shirt, white shorts and sandals.

Julie smiled at them. "Hi, it's nice to meet all of you."

"Hi," Walt said smiling back. He thought her elegant and pretty and was charmed by her delightful smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Julie," Emily said. "Your dad likes to sing your praises on campus."

Julie grinned and shook her head. "That guy."

"As everyone knows," Jingjing said to begin the lesson, "the wok is at the heart of Chinese cooking. There's a Chinese phrase that captures the essence of wok cookery—wok hei. Literally translated it means 'breath of the wok' and refers to the characteristic flavors produced by a wok. The temperatures in wok cooking are much higher than in traditional western cooking and produce smoking oils, extensive maillard reactions, and caramelization of sugars. All of these effects combine to produce the unique wok hei. No other cooking method can duplicate it."

Jingjing stopped and smiled at everyone. "Any questions?"

Hearing none, she swept a hand over the collection of cooking implements and ingredients she had gathered for the class. There were two woks perched on portable butane burners, various tools for use with the woks, as well as a diverse collection of Chinese spices and sauces, many of which the students had never heard of. She described the seasonings and tools, then made a quick stir-fry of eggplant with oyster sauce as a demonstration.

"Now, let's get you cooking. We're going to make two more dishes—beef and broccoli, which you all are probably familiar with, but this version will be a little more authentic and you'll like it better. And it's not spicy."

"The other dish is Sichuan boiled fish. That doesn't sound very exciting but I guarantee you it is, and then some. It is spicy. It's usually very spicy in a restaurant but we can scale it down based on your preferences."

Soon Walt was mincing garlic and ginger while Emily cut halibut fillets into thick slices and put them in a marinade. Julie watched over them while Jingjing supervised the Marcents.

"You're pretty good with that knife," Julie observed.

"Thanks. Mom's been teaching me to cook this summer."

"What do you cook?"

"Nothing fancy, usual stuff...chili, grilled chicken, bacon and eggs, canned beans...cold cereal."

"He's being too modest, he's got a real knack for it," Emily said. "And he's been doing most of the cooking lately."

"The Good Son," laughed Julie.

Walt finished with the ginger and garlic and started trimming and slicing scallions. "Are you in high school?" he asked. "I haven't seen you at Euglena Valley."

"No, I graduated from Northridge this year. What about you?"

"Same."

"College plans?"

"Southern Cal...you?"

"UCLA."

"Impressive...what are you going to study?"

As Emily added the halibut slices to the marinade, she listened to Julie and Walt talk. She's a charming and intelligent young woman, she thought, and they seems to be hitting it off.

Soon the food was ready and they all sat down at the dining room table and were joined by Jinlong. Before them were steaming bowls of beef and broccoli, Sichuan boiled fish, steamed rice, and smashed cucumbers dressed with garlic, chopped red chiles, soy sauce, rice vinegar and sesame oil.

"As they say in China," Jingjing said, "Bon appetite."

Walt watched as the Marcents picked forks instead of chopsticks and decided he would give chopsticks a try. He picked them up and looked at them.

"Here," Julie said, taking his hand and positioning the chopsticks. "Hold them like this... and pick up things like this." It took Walt a little while but he eventually was able to get some food to his mouth.

"Wow, the fish is really spicy," he said, his eyes starting to water. "But delicious. I've never tasted anything like it."

"Welcome to real Chinese food," Julie replied, the fiery heat having no apparent effect on her.

"I've heard that Chinese names are just ordinary words for other things. Is that true?"

"Mostly, but not always."

"Does Hua mean anything?"

"Flower."

That's appropriate, Walt thought. "What about your dad?"

Julie grinned. "Jin means gold and long means dragon...literally his name is Gold Dragon Flower."

Walt laughed. "That's like...wow...what about your mother?"

"Well, jing alone can mean many different things...perfect, bright, surprise, clean...but Jingjing is just a name."

"So you couldn't call her Perfect Surprise?"

"No," Julie laughed.

"This beef and broccoli is really good too." Walt said.

"Yes...have you decided on a major yet?"

"Hmm...not really. Maybe physics...or biomedical engineering. What about you?"

"Pre-med. I want to be a pediatrician."

Walt looked at her smiling. "That's great. Good for you."

* * *

Walt carefully placed four thick ribeye steaks on the hot grill and closed the lid. It was early evening and he and Emily were at Charlie and Amy's house for dinner and ballroom dance practice. Amy and Emily sat under the trees talking and sipping Cabernet Sauvignon.

"What do you have in mind?" Charlie asked, watching Walt reposition the steaks.

"I have an idea for our dance recital. I think you're going to like it...we're both going to like it."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"So, here's the idea..."

They soon sat down to eat. Amy took a bite of her steak and said "This is delicious, Walt...medium rare, grilled to perfection." Emily and Charlie voiced their agreement and they fell silent for a while, enjoying the meal."

Eventually, Walt spoke up. "I have an idea for our dance recital," he said and they all looked at him with curiosity—there were still four more classes before the recital but they all remembered that Emil had told them one of the remaining classes would be dedicated to learning a new dance that the class could choose.

"Well," Emily said, fairly certain that Walt's idea would be a good one. "Let's hear it."

"Okay, picture this. Two couples are dancing at the same time. But their dancing soon starts to reveal that the pairs are mismatched...each dancer is attracted to the other dancer's partner. This attraction creates tension, causing increasingly intense back and forth approaches between the couples. The dance culminates with the pairs rendering asunder...ha, a dramatic choreographer's term!" he laughed, "and the dancers all start dancing with the person of their desire and lean toward each other to join in a kiss...which stops just short. The end."

The others looked at him in stunned silence.

"You really think we could do that?" Charlie asked, trying to sound surprised.

"Well, we can try," Walt said. What do we have to lose? Everyone else will probably be doing a vanilla waltz so we would at least get credit for daring."

Amy and Emily looked at each other and nodded.

"Let's do it," Emily said.

"I'm in," Amy said.

"Great. "We'll switch partners for part of the time tonight so Emily and Charlie and Amy and I can get used to dancing together."

"Okay, boss," Charlie said with a smile on his face.

As the sun began to set they gathered on the large patio. Walt paired his cell phone with the Bluetooth speaker on the table and started a playlist.

"Let's start with our own moms," he said, "and switch half-way through." He took Emily in his arms and they began practicing a simple waltz routine.

"Walt, honey," Emily said after a few minutes, "What did you think of Julie Hua?"

"Julie? She's okay."

"Just okay? I thought she was very impressive—intelligent, nice personality...and very pretty...don't you think?"

Walt didn't really want to talk about Julie with his mother. "Sure, she was very nice," he offered weakly.

"That's all?" Emily teased. "Didn't you think she's pretty?"

Walt thought her very pretty, but merely said "Sure, I suppose."

Emily recognized Walt's feigned disinterest and was amused by it. "And you're both going to college in LA in the fall."

Walt made no response.

"Maybe you two can get together there."

"Yeah, maybe," Walt said, trying to sound indifferent.

They danced a while longer without speaking, then Emily leaned toward him and whispered "Why don't you ask her out?"

Walt moved closer to her and leaned his head to Emily's ear. "I already have everything I want," he whispered.

Soon, Walt stopped dancing. "Time to switch," he announced and he and Charlie smiled at each other as they passed on the way to their new partners.

Walt approached Amy and stopped in front of her. He stood there and Amy was amused by his shy, somewhat embarrassed look. She took a step toward him and held her arms out to him in the waltz position. "Let's dance, Walt," she said with a smile.