My Mommy's Good Boy

[neerathemall]

"Why do you like to do that?" she asked. I told her I like the way it feels. She asked if the effect was similar to alcohol. "It's different," I said, "but also very enjoyable." When she asked what it felt like, I told her there was only one way for her to know.
"Tonight, I'd like to have you smoke with me, mom. I'll take good care of you, and I think you'll have a good time." Hesitantly, she agreed. We decided to have pizza delivered, rather than take the time to cook. I ordered extra, since I know I always get the munchies, and thought mom might, too. Little did my mom know the extent of my plans for the evening. I was prepared to take the final bite tonight!
After eating pizza and drinking soda, we went to the living room. Rather than turning on the TV, I pulled out some albums to play on the stereo. I started with one of my mom's albums that would go well with being high, Simon & Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water. I told mom how being high altered your sensory perception, and that you can often notice things in music you hadn't heard before, and that things might look and feel slightly different, as well.
She was visibly nervous, and I assured her I'd be there to take care of her, no matter what. And I fully intended to take very good care of my mom -- in every way imaginable!
I loaded my pipe and demonstrated how to inhale. I cautioned mom not to take too big a draw, but it turned out she was a natural! She inhaled and held the smoke just as I had showed her, not even coughing a little. She exhaled the smoke and smiled. "When will I feel it?" she asked.
"Give it some time, mom. You'll feel it come on slowly, and it will feel very pleasant." We sat there, passing the pipe back and forth, and smoked our first bowl together. I noticed a change in mom before she realized the weed was having its effect. Her eyes became a little unfocused, and it seemed her entire body simply relaxed. I smiled and asked how she was feeling.
"This is nice," she said. "It's nothing like alcohol, but I get why you like this, son."
"I'm glad, mom. We can simply enjoy a nice evening of feeling good together."
Her eyes closed slowly, and she smiled. I reached over and let my fingers trail down her forearm. Her eyes opened and she asked what I was doing. I told her that her nerves might perceive things differently, and asked her to again close her eyes and focus on my touch. I went to her shoulder, reaching under her light nightgown sleeve to make contact. Slowly, I traced the length of her arm down to her wrist. I then turned her hand palm up and began tracing the lines on her hand. My touch was intentionally light, wanting to get mom worked up for more. Eventually, her mouth opened slightly and she shivered as I caressed her. Things were going along nicely!
I changed the music to some progressive rock. Pink Floyd's Echoes, a masterpiece whether straight or stoned, emanated from the speakers. It wasn't mom's kind of music, but I wanted her to get the experience of layered levels of sound, and this has always been one of my favorite songs when I'm high. After the entire song played, I told her I'd put on something she might like more.