Mrs Robinson in the Nursing Home

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Do you ever feel on the defensive talking to your mother? Especially since you have missed your father’s funeral and the last time you saw your Mom was about a year ago? ‘Business deals’ don’t really cut it for an excuse when you are face to face with a near bedridden octogenarian. She is still your Mom and you are still her child.


“Oh, so you have remembered where I live, Jim. Its good to see my clever son again after such a while.”

“I’m glad I had the chance to come here today, Mother. Not only to see you either. The drive through this part was very nice, a lot better than the hills in Vermont.”


“Well Mother, we thought – Sis and I thought – that you would appreciate the scenery. Lake Como is not very far away. This little corner is rather pretty don’t you think?”

“Lake Como is in Italy. Just over the border. What you saw when you came in to land was probably Lake Maggiore. It was Lugano you came in to, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Your right. That’s the one I saw. But Como is not very far away.”

“In Italy. Besides, it is full of cheap tourist traps.”

“Some of these people you dismiss as tourists have come to recuperate after surgery. After all, part of the business I am in helps these people. Their success also helps us keep a very good place for you.”

“Son, you work too hard for someone your age. Perhaps I’ll get your sister and you to take me Maggiore one day.”

“I’m sure we would manage that sometime, we’ll get our diaries sync’d for sometime in April? How does that sound?”

“Improbable. Your Sister is nearly as bad as you, Jim. And don’t forget I have a diary too. I’m not just in here to vegetate.”

“No of course you do! Oh. Sorry I mean, of course you aren’t. You run your own diary!”

“Oh Jim. Have you just made a Freudian slip? And you know what we used to say about that.”

“Em, yes, eh… What Dad used to say was, ‘His wife’s pajamas.'”

“Hee, Hee, heee! He said that to you as well!” She had dropped her stern appearance and gone back to being Mom. “Oh Jim. Hmm, Dada… Jim, you realise that you are the man of the family now.”

“Yes, I realise… At least it was sudden – with Dad, I mean.”

“You mean not like me? Twenty years getting a little bit more broken every year. We never thought when I was sixty that I would still be breathing twenty years later. But five years later and Dada didn’t think I was still a woman any longer… Oh just give me a moment!”

Jim waited and he didn’t see the hunched up old woman with the uneven face. He saw his mother, the tall woman who had walked beside him when he went into school. But this was something he had not expected. This was the first hint of criticism he had ever heard from her about his Dad’s care of Mom. He would not have expected to hear Sis talk of it either, if she knew.

He waited. He was used to looking people in the eye and waiting for them to talk to him. They felt safer then and would open up more. And he had climbed so far as he had by spotting the opportunities open up. That was one of the reasons the Company had done so well over the past quarter century.

“What plastics does your company sell, Jim?”

“Ah,” he looked around for examples, “this machine, or instrument cover, it looks pleasant to the eye, doesn’t it.”

“That thing? That has got electronics and compressed oxygen in it. There must be lots of metal pipes and things! You don’t make that!”

“What we did there was design the cover. Or our Italian bureau did it, but they are part of the company. We don’t want the users to see the complexity of that instrument, we only want them to see it as a very useful tool. And pleasant to look at and easy to keep clean. That surface is quite soft to the touch. But it is a firm structure, standing there upright and yet stable. No sharp corners.”



“Do you know what it looks like to me?”

“The Italian name for it is a ‘Capuchino’ I think. Same as the coffee.”

“Do you know what that means? Properly?”

“Yes. A kind of bishop’s cowl, the sort of thing they wear in the Vatican.”

“Well, you must have heard what they say about them! All these dirty priests! I’ll stick with a good Americano. Two sugar.”

“Do you ever use it to get out of your chair – the instrument, not the coffee, that is?”

“Both. But as you say, it is stable and it happens to come up to my head height where I am sitting so I do clutch it to keep my balance till I’m up. Then its like a big prick against my Oh!”

“It’s okay Mother. There is a similarity. It’s just that I didn’t think you would notice.”

“Oh really? And you many children have you birthed? None! You may well have one of these pillars but it is on the outside. That is not where I liked to feel it. It meant Life to me! Security, safety, submission, success too! Half of you and your Sister came out of one of these. There is one of these in every room here, I call mine Paul! Phal would have been even more inhuman.”

“I see Mother.”

“Thank Escort bayan you. I am glad of that. Now what else does your firm make?”

“Mom, its not really my firm. I only own a hundred thousand shares in it. What I look after i”…

“At sixty-four dollars each in Frankfurt this morning. That a nought point three percent increase this month!”

“Is it? I don’t have much time to look. I came to Switzerland this trip mainly to speak to our people in Implants. They do more of them here now than cuckoo clocks. Just do a web search for ‘plastics, switzerland’ and see what you get. The clinics are fighting over it! Its great business!”

“An implant would have to be a bionic one for your poor old mother.”

“Maybe we can do that once one of our people works out the needs.”

“No Jim. They will not. You will. You know the needs now.”

“I know?”

“Yes. You know. I am a woman. You remember what I said? ‘It meant life to me’. Will I ever see you again?”

Jim was thinking as fast as he could but his brain was going in multiple directions: Appointments, What standards would be acceptable, What standards would be achievable, What was already available on the market, How much time did he have before it was too late for his mother? Something out there was missing. He didn’t know what it was.

“Not tomorrow Mother. You will see me again, but tomorrow gives me no time for anything good enough for you. You know you are holding a gun to my head!”

“I don’t want a gun, son, but if it fires, well thats expected, isn’t it.”

“Okay, it will be worthwhile. If that clock up there is going cuckoo for your dinner then its time I went to get mine. Bye, I love you.”

“I love you too son. Thank you.”

Jim was having trouble thinking on his way back to the hotel. He wasn’t sure which side of the road to drive on some of the way. He had to pull himself out of his wanderings when he approached the town and saw the busses and other traffic. A decent meal ought to help – it usually did.

When he had eaten he went up to his room and had coffee sent. Black. No sugar. He sat down where he could see the door and opened his case on one side and his laptop on the other. Search for ‘What’ was available. The answer was dispiriting but his coffee came in and he sipped a little, still looking at the screens. The next screen came up, ‘No more found’.

An empty screen! An opportunity! Stuff it to them! Again he typed the requirements, but this time into one of the Company’s request-response forms. The last box was for a request for a sketch. He was halfway through drawing it on the screen when his thighs got too hot from the processor. It always did this for heavy graphics work so he put it on the floor but as he leaned over he discovered something hard in his trousers and it gave him an idea. He had an option for photographic input so he went to his case and set up a frame, pulled down his trousers and pulled up his shirt. Then he lay on the floor, brought the frame over and started it climbing round his fully swollen member. When was it last so strong?

That would be better than even an excellent sketch. Remembering it would be for an eighty year old woman who had not had his Dad in her for fifteen years, he chose a five sixths scale. SEND.

He woke from a poor night’s sleep with an unusually large morning erection. Last night he had been dreaming about putting it into his mother. He was shocked in the shower cabinet to see the spurts going chest high. That was not his recent style.

As he was having breakfast he started to call the men and women he would meet that morning, just to make sure they were fine to meet him. Most of the Company round the world knew by now that if you didn’t go to visit Jim then he would come looking for you. One family had actually become closer when he did visit. Jim paid them the courtesy of being interested and saved their marriage. He had nearly been invited into the bed with them both. He still wondered if he had done right to decline.

A message came up from the Italian bureau: Confirm last night’s request. It had been a very high spec article, query viscosity of fluid to be pumped. Jim confirmed that he had met the client for the prototype yesterday and suggested a twenty percent sugar solution but to use their own judgement.

He had another unusually large erection the next morning. The following day was when he now expected delivery but he needed to check it over before his Mother saw it. He didn’t know if he could guarantee satisfaction, but he intended to be able to guarantee the ultimate. The hairy balls should be a nice touch – in more ways than one. They would hold the batteries for the vibrator and the warmed sugar solution. In the meanwhile there were people to see, ideas to discuss, hopes to listen to and just occasionally, dreams to be fulfilled. It turned the wheels and fed the families. There seemed to be no downside. Except that he didn’t have a family or even time for one.

He used to have a Bayan escort wife. Sally was her name and he saved her from marrying a total jerk. But he never knew she was pregnant with said total jerk’s child when he married her. She had a daughter and a divorce. They belonged together, the two “D”s.

A television program had a catch phrase where a robot uttered the line, “Don’t talk to me about life”. Jim’s shouted rejoinder, “Because it’s life isn’t mine!” had probably helped convince her of the second “D”.

“Jim, do you want an intern again this year?” came out of his cellphone as he was going the third conference of the day, It was Human Resources.

“So long as she’s good looking again.”

“You will see the choice of candidates on the company intranet. Can you read the bio’s and make your selection within three hours. After that they are open to any exec.”

“Will do, bye John.”

He knew he would still be in conference in three hours, there was little chance of reading more than two or three bio’s. Well it hadn’t done him any harm to chose by their photographs on the last three years, so he would have a look before he went in.

The conference room had been hired for the morning and afternoon sessions but he had 20 minutes preparation time to himself. He linked to the centre’s broadband and let his laptop take in the potential intern’s CVs. Then, following the security procedures for this type of data, he unlinked and typed in his code word to de-crypt the details. So long as he held his finger on the key it would remain legible.

Forty candidates. Eight minutes left. He scanned the faces and took a dislike to two of them. Five or six looked interesting or hopeful, but his eye kept being drawn back to one of them. He briefly checked her Bio. No faults, not much background that was like his, but that was no guide.

“Dear John, give me #f06”, and sent it. He closed down the laptop and the data dissolved permanently into gibberish. “I will see the first man now, please.”

Things were being straightened out and new areas of work could now be considered. This country was doing it’s usual – behaving like clockwork. He had been able to convert all his expectations for this visit to worthwhile projects. Except his visit to his mother in the home. Tomorrow the package would arrive and he would have time for a half hour visit before he moved to Prague, Czechoslovakia – famous for ‘Spring’ and False Teeth. They did well supplying the plastic for the dentures, it was the expansion which he would be paying most attention to.

Expansion of his mother was what he dreamt about that night yet again. In the morning he wondered how good the device would be. It would certainly be to his specifications but would it be to his mother’s liking. He hoped he had got things right. He was still thinking this when he drove up up the auto park at the home. The only thing that they had changed was the fluid – they had needed to add to the sugar a little starch and a trace of gelatin. Not as good as non-drip paint they explained, but non-poisonous.

In the event he was only able to spend ten minutes with her. He had not realised he was butting in to their mealtime and he needed privacy. She had seemed slightly shocked but he kept drawing her attention back to where she could find out the features and how it would be up to her to use it or not. She had something to say but she was not willing to tell her son just then.

“I will be back in five weeks Mother, on the Wednesday afternoon. Keep well!”


Five weeks later he touched down at Geneva International on a complicated series of doglegs back to the USA headquarters. His next appointment was in Amsterdam and it was a five hour flight starting at Lugano. Swissrail took him to the town near the home and he hired an auto.

“Hello Mother, How is it going?”

“Well my batteries haven’t run out yet, if that’s what you mean.”

“It is your personal energy that I am really interested in. How are you getting on?”

“It has been good to know you thought about me son. Maybe that’s why I feel a bit more lively than I did six weeks ago.”

He leaned his hand lightly on ‘Paul’ the phallus shaped instrument pod. Once she looked at his hand he stroked the smoothly curved surface and watched her eyes. She had more to say. So he waited. So did she and she was his mom – she knew his tactics.

“Youv’e got something on your mind, Son. You might as well tell it to me because I can wait longer than you. I don’t have a flight to catch.”

“You clever old interrogator, you are. But what do I want to know?”

“In thirty years you might be as old as me, Son, unless you go the same way as Mr Robinson”.

“You have had five weeks to try out that specially created prototype toy. I know you couldn’t keep a box closed as long as five days without prying inside, so tell me what are your opinions?”

“Well, you are fast. In that case, em, how warm is your hand?”

“Compared to what, Mom?”

“Put it on my cheek so I Escort can find out. On you go – but don’t poke out my eye!”

“Is it warm?”

“Not very. Give me it here. I want to warm it a little, Jim.”

“Well, here you are.”

“I’m warming you up Jim, not just your hand.”

“Mom I think it must be a long time since you warmed up my hand between your breasts. I didn’t realise this was what you wanted to tell me.”

He was still unaware that his fingers were moulding themselves to hold one breast.

“Jim, I need to tell a man who loves me that I love him. And I do Jim. And its not just in my head – its in my body too. You were in my body one time. I know, I remember.”

“I was a lot smaller then, Mom.”

“Well, how big are you now? As big as that love toy you gave me? That was the idea of a lover, you know. It made me think of you. Can you guess where it is now?”

“Oh Mother. Don’t tell me… Surely its not in you now? You wouldn’t, would you?”

“Of course I would. Stretch out your hand and see. GO ON! Turn it on for me!”

“Jim. I meant it! So go ahead. Meantime I’m going to hang on to your other hand till your plane takes off.”

For a few moments he paused. Suddenly he was not sure any longer.

Jim could take the choice of ripping her arm out of her grasp or turning a switch. He chose the latter. He swallowed then slid his other hand down her body to her pubic arch so he locate the switch. Over the sagging skin of her stomach rippling with gentle hills of fat and wrinkled dips. Another line of wrinkled dips. He suddenly realised he had drifted off to one side and was running his fingertips down her thigh – probably the outside. He walked his fingers gently to the centre till they dropped into the valley between then drew them back up. Hair! Long hair, thin wisps but harsh. He had found the hairy balls. He moved his fingers around to find the switch. Not much further to go but he kept running into more hair and nothing else. Then he realised what he was doing.

There was nothing there except his Mother. He was now gently fingering her thin outer labia. He heard her laughing,

“You’re a lovely man, Jim. I’m glad you are my own.”

“I’m glad nobody can see us!”

“Well kiss me and then get your plane.”

Jim did and left with his case in front of him to conceal his hard penis. What had he unleashed – not in Mom but in him? Where would this end? Had she actually used that prototype? She was still a sexy bitch and still in heat. Hope this intern is as good as she looks.


The good clean All-American boy that Jim had been 30 years ago had changed just a bit. Now he knew where Europe was and it was not a suburb of Russia. Some of his accent had changed, though his mother had not mentioned it. Some of the things he had seen would once have made him blush, get angry. Now he accepted it was part of a life that he was not called upon to endure. Yet when he felt the gradual tilt of the jumbo towards the coastline of his country he knew it was Home Land. Within five hours he would be fresh and clean and burgers would smell right. He checked off his list and refined his immediate answers to the expected points which should come out of them. Few of them would close down a discussion because he wanted to benefit from these discussions as much as everyone else.

The intern would have to wait so that she was not thrown in too deep as soon as he saw her. Jim was confident they would get ‘deep’, like the ones before her.

At eight o’clock the next morning he stood in John’s office. Because it had a good view down onto the auto-park and he wanted to see her legs walking – preferably with the skirt tight against her thigh, of course – and what she drove to get here. Did she like red, low-slung, sporty? Much more likely some old banger.

It was neither! A dull blue station wagon from some year looked like driving past only it stopped behind another auto and his blond walked in while the station wagon pulled away.

Certainly not a skinny one. Long legs though, scarlet red blouse, black leather case held hard against her hips as a counterweight so she could exaggerate the swing of her bum with it. ‘Good going’, he thought, ‘don’t stop till your clit touches me’. He half believed she would do just that for him if he were standing down there her. He felt his balls tighten.

She would have been sent to John’s office so Jim went out to reach his own. He still liked to be reasonably fit so he went for the stairs rather than the elevator. Only five floors up from here so he could do it nearly as quickly as Mr Otis.

Just as Jim was about to make his dash up he saw her pop her head round the other corner of the stairwell. She had just come up from the entrance while he was hyperventilating to make his run easier!

“Oh Miss. I’m pleased to see you! Could you possibly help me up to my office? As you could see, the elevator is not running this morning.”

And so Jim conned the pretty intern into getting below his elbow and pushing him upstairs for a whole floor. She was willing for something, he thought. Then the sound of the doors opening stopped his fun and she helped him in, leaned him against the wall and stood against the door to prevent its closure.

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