Making Up with Mom

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After my sister Janey got married, I felt as if I’d gone ten rounds with something much bigger and stronger than I was. I know I was supposed to be happy for her, and in a way I was, but the selfish part, which I certainly have enough of, was feeling sorry for me.

The most absurd aspect was that it seemed as if we were just finding each other. We were always friends, and close, but I started feeling as if I loved her, and then it was over before I really got a chance to do much about it. Do you know how hard it is to find the right person? Of course you do; we all do. It kept going around in my head, ‘How many chances do you think you get?’

I guess to Janey it was something like playing ‘Doctor.’ But with her turning nineteen and me ten months younger, we were a little old for that, and that’s why I thought it was more. We made out a few times and touched each other off once; a few weeks later she says she’s getting married. Not that I didn’t know that she and Rick were thinking about it, but I thought since we…I don’t know what I thought.

So I was left in a house with a mother I never got along with. The only thing we shared was our discomfort with each other. We were oil and water. Janey had been the peacemaker and usually kept us from each other’s throat. Strangely, after she moved out, there didn’t seem to be anything worth arguing about, so a stony cold silence prevailed.

That’s why the first meaningful conversation between mom and me came as a bolt from the blue. We’d both just gotten home from work. She didn’t even start with ‘Hello.’ She said, “I know about you and Jane.” I just looked at her and I could feel my fury starting to build. She said, “I heard you when I came home early one day…before she got married.”

I said, “So who cares when you came home, or what you heard, or what you think you know. You don’t know anything and you never did. So what, now you want to give me a lecture? Like I care what you think…”

She didn’t rise to the bait; she was very quiet when she said, “Michael, it’s not like that, I’m not judging you, I just want to know about my daughter…how something like that could happen…if it was because of me…and if it’s something that could ruin her marriage.”

“Sure, you’re not judging, not much. You just want to know if you did something to make that terrible thing happen. Well, rest easy mom, it had nothing to do with you, it had to do with us, and I’m sorry to say that what you think happened, didn’t. We didn’t sleep together, so no need for melodrama. Okay? You happy? Now get off my case.”

She said, “Michael, you’re both my children, I just want to understand…”

I said, “Just let it alone mom, will you?” A look came over her and for a moment she seemed emotionally overwhelmed. That didn’t happen very often.

It softened me and I said, “We were just fooling around, it was nothing.”

She wouldn’t let it go and said, “I only listened for two minutes before I left, and I know it wasn’t nothing.”

I didn’t feel the need to explain so I said, “Fine.”

Mom said, “Just tell me why Michael.”

I didn’t want to argue anymore and I said, “I think I loved her, but it was a one way street. Can you understand that?”

Mom was quiet and then said, “Oh. Yes I can understand that.”

I didn’t care what my mother thought, but somehow the intimacy of that conversation eased some of the tension between us, and we started talking to each other more. Nothing earth-shaking, just stuff about our jobs and what was going on in the world. I had wanted to move out after I graduated high school but Janey convinced me that we would all be better off if we pooled our money and shared expenses until we could save enough. She was right, so I stayed. But with her gone, I didn’t know if I could do it anymore. Not that I had any desire to move, because I had no desire to do anything.

So by default I stayed at home almost every night. When my mother started asking me why I didn’t go out more, I asked her why she didn’t. She shook her head and said, “I’ve been out enough.” I guess she was talking about the parade of boyfriends she’d ‘Entertained’ after my father left. That went on for a while, but lately, she’d been more like a nun.

I guess we all have a need to be with people and talk, so it was mom and me saying more in a few months to each other than we had over all the years we’d lived together. That includes all the yelling we had done which had disappeared, and now seemed pointless. I couldn’t even remember why she used to bother me so much.

Of course we’d never shared much in the way of confidences so I was surprised when one evening she began telling me about all the track and field events she participated in when she was in school. She said, “You probably won’t believe this, but I was voted best girl athlete. I hardly believe it myself anymore. I even had a nickname…they called me ‘Pinto,’ jeez I loved to run, more than anything.” She looked far off.

I said, “I have a nickname muğla escort too mom.” She brightened and said, “You do Michael? I didn’t know that. What is it?”

I said, “They call me…Mike.” We both laughed out loud and our mood lightened enough for me to say, “How about going to Sal’s?” That may not sound like much, but we hadn’t been out together, even for a pizza, in over a year.

Mom said, “Oh yeah that sounds great, I’m up for a Sicilian pie; and how about the ‘Pot of Pasta’ also, I’m starved.”

I said, “I think we may actually finish it tonight.” I didn’t remember the last time either of had a solid meal.

When we came home we were almost stuporous from all the food and wine. We sat down to watch TV but before I turned it on mom said, “Michael, can I ask you something about you and Janey?”

I said, “Okay.”

She said, “Did you think you were doing something wrong…did that make it exciting?”

I said, “No, that had nothing to do with it, neither of us ever talked about it. It wasn’t like it happened in an instant. It happened slowly, we liked each other, we held hands; we had fun. It had just started, and I thought we could have been good together, and right mom, it would have been right…but Janey was somewhere else with the whole thing.”

She said, “I’m sorry baby, I can see it hurt you…when I first heard you two, I was so upset, now, I think that if you loved each other, that’s all that would have mattered. But we’re resilient, take it from me, you get over being hurt, in time.”

I might have agreed, but now I don’t think it’s time that does it. Sometimes something happens in your head, a switch is flipped, or a chemical is released, or a neurotransmitter…does whatever a neurotransmitter does, and for seemingly no reason at all, you feel the weight lifting and you feel a little better. Sometimes you see things in a new way, from a different angle, and that changes your mind, and sometimes your world.

I thought about Janey and the time my only high school girlfriend and me broke up. Janey wouldn’t allow me to wallow in the miasma of muck that had infiltrated my brain. She told me things that were the equivalent of a kick in the ass and got me going.

So I listened to her voice. Whatever it was, I began looking at things differently. I tried to take some meaning out of what had happened and I resolved to do things differently. Even though I was putting in overtime at work, I found some hours to serve food at Comfort House, a shelter where Janey had volunteered. She used to ask me to go with her, but I always had an excuse, – they’re easy to come by. Doing something meaningful helped me as much as I was helping them.

As the months past, things looked up. I’d gotten a raise and again I thought about moving out. When I told my mother about getting my own place she said, “Could you maybe stay a little longer? Right now I don’t think I can do it financially…and I guess I’m not ready to be alone. It’s been good being able to talk to you Michael…I mean if you think it’s best to go…”

I said, “No mom it’s okay, I’ll stay.” I realized that I’d been enjoying her company too since we’d stopped fighting.

I didn’t say that to her but she came up to me and said, “Thank you Michael.” She hugged me. It wasn’t like the quick perfunctory hug we did once in a while as an obligation, but a full body hug. She felt fragile in my arms, and for the first time I became aware of her body against mine. I liked it, and I didn’t like it. She stayed and said, “Thank you,” again.

Somewhere it registered that my mother had a good body. I looked at her cleavage and the word ‘Creamy’ crossed my mind. I didn’t know what to do with the thought so I pulled back and said, “It’s all good mom. It won’t cost as much for either of us…and it’s been okay…I mean being home.”

She knew what I meant and she smiled. She said, “I’m glad baby.” She kissed me on the cheek. That was only the second time I ever remember her calling me ‘Baby.’

That night, for the first time, I had clear and present sexual thoughts about my mother. I couldn’t help flashing back to the feel of her tits against my chest and her belly up against me. Any negative feelings I’d had earlier dissipated with the rising of my hard-on. I hesitated about touching myself over my mother, but I wanted to. I tried to think about other things, an image of Jane came up, but my thoughts returned to mom.

Before I knew it I’d entered into a fantasy and I was telling my mother to take her dress off. She’s shy and reluctant, but I insist. With eyes downcast her dress falls to the floor as if it had never touched her body, and she stood before me in white panties, stockings, and a bra — it’s funny to me now that I created a ‘Virginal’ mother in my imagination.

I approach her in my fantasy and her eyes remain downcast. I unhook her bra. By then my real hard-on was full blown and I couldn’t stop from grabbing it. I imagined taking my mother’s muş escort big tit in my hand, and with my first stroke down my hardened shaft, I heard a knock on my door and my mother said, “Michael?”

It was as if an electric current went through me. I bolted up in bed, eyes wide, mind flashing confused messages while I felt the sweat surfacing. I managed to say, “Yes?”

Mom said, “Sorry to bother you Michael, I hope you weren’t sleeping; can I come in for a minute?”

I thought all kind of things before saying, “Sure.” I brought up my legs to conceal my hard-on.

She came in wearing a black nightgown that wasn’t see-through, but her curves were well outlined. She said, “Michael, Dana just called and said she couldn’t take me to the doctor tomorrow. I need someone to bring me home because they’re giving me a sedative before my test. Can you take me? It should only take about an hour.”

I said, “No problem; what time?”

She said, “Noon.”

I said, “Okay. What’s the test?”

She said, “Nothing serious, we can talk tomorrow. Sorry if I disturbed you.”

I said, “You didn’t; it’s fine.”

She said, “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning, good night.”

I said “Night,” and she left. The sexual excitement was replaced with concern. I’d never been involved in my mother’s life before, but the thought of something happening to her on the heels of losing Janey made me uncomfortable most of the night.

Coming home from the appointment the next day, mom was a bit woozy and quite talky. When I asked her how it went, she said, “The doctor said I’m fine. He doesn’t even have to wait for the results, so we can just forget about it. And thank you baby for bringing me, you’re a sweet baby.”

I laughed and said, “What’s all this ‘Baby’ lately, you never called me that before.”

She said, “I always called you baby, always. And then when you were eight and your father left, and I said, ‘It’s going to be okay baby,’ you screamed at me and said, ‘Don’t call me baby; I’m not your baby.’ I can hear you like it just happened.”

Her eyes welled up. I thought that maybe she was emotional because of what the doctor had given her. She put her hand on my leg as I drove and said, “I know you blamed me for your father’s leaving, but it wasn’t my fault Michael, I swear it.”

Some of the anger came back to me and I said, “You were always yelling and fighting with him.”

She said, “That only happened after I found out that he was sleeping with Sarah. I was twenty-six and I had gotten too old for him Michael…he even said it to me…”

I said, “How come you never told me?”

She said, “When you were young, I didn’t want to poison you against him, because you looked up to him, even when his visits became fewer and further apart.” I could hear her anger start to flare when she said, “Even though he poisoned you against me, with his gifts, and his bad-mouthing.” She quieted and said, “And when you were older, I figured you would see the truth for yourself when he moved away and couldn’t even bother to call you or your sister.”

I said, “Sarah’s younger than you?” My father had married and divorced her, but she’d stayed in touch with me.

Mom laughed derisively, “Yeah, but it didn’t do her much good did it? Five years and he traded her in for a newer model.”

Piecing it all together backwards, I realized that all she had told me was true. I said, “Well you got the last laugh mom. You became younger than she is; she’s a wreck, and you look great.”

She stroked the back of my head and said, “Thank you baby. Can I call you baby again?”

I smiled and said, “Sure mom.” Then I said, “You know, I wish you would have said something a long time ago. I was blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault…and after a while, I probably didn’t even know why I was always angry with you, and fighting with you.”

She said, “Maybe you’re right, but now we can be friends again.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, pressing her body against my arm.

When we got home and were walking to the door, she was unsteady and almost tripped. I caught her around the waist and my hand was on the side of her breast. I didn’t move it as we continued walking. I opened the door and when we went in she hugged me and said, “Thanks for being here.” I held her and then I kissed her softly on the mouth.”

There was only one way to take that kiss. She knew, but she was calm. With a gentle smile she said, “I can’t be Janey for you Michael.”

I said, “I know mom,” and we left it at that.

For the rest of that day, the kiss went where things you don’t talk about go, and we both acted as if it didn’t happen. I put something together for dinner since mom slept a lot and wasn’t up to cooking. When she came to the table, she was grateful I had prepared everything and her mood was elevated. We joked and ate and near the end of the meal I said, “I wasn’t kissing Janey.”

She just looked at me and raised her nevşehir escort eyebrows. I had no idea what it meant during the long pause. Finally she said, “Okay.” That didn’t clear up much either. I let it go and we cleaned up and then watched a movie without much conversation. When it ended she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Goodnight dear.”

I said, “Night mom,” and went to bed. I stayed awake thinking and managed to convince myself that mom’s ‘Okay’ was an encouraging sign. I got hard fantasizing about her waiting for me in her bed. I went to her room and the door was slightly opened. Her back was to me and she was curled up on her side. I got on the bed with her and put my hand on her back and began to stroke it. I knew she wasn’t asleep by her breathing and I kissed her neck.

She didn’t turn to me but she said, “Michael,” as my hand stroked down over her ass. She said, “I know you want to have sex with me, but I can’t let you.”

I said, “Mom, I’m not thinking about Janey anymore, I’m thinking about you.”

She said, “I know.” I stayed up against her and so did my hard-on.

I said, “You don’t want me, or is it because I’m your son…that shouldn’t…”

She interrupted me and said, “No Michael, that’s not why, it’s because I’ve had enough sex for the wrong reasons…too much, and I’m not going to do it again.”

I said, “Mom would it be a right reason because your son loves you?”

She said, “Michael. You don’t love me that way, you want me, you want to sleep with me.”

My hard-on subsided and I pulled back. She turned to face me and I said, “Couldn’t it be both?”

She sat up and said, “Michael, there’s a part of me that wants to give you what you want for a lot of reasons, but I know that it would be a big mistake for both of us in the long run, so I’m not going to.”

I said, “Would you tell me one thing?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “Do you feel anything at all for me like I feel for you?”

She looked at me, and after the longest pause, she said, “Yes.”

I said, “Mom, can I stay with you tonight if we don’t…”

She said, “No baby.” I left and tossed around the mixed messages for hours before falling into a dream state filled with images of my mother’s bare flesh and my hands reaching for her.

When I saw her in the morning I had the feeling of intimacy you get after sleeping with someone. I kissed her cheek and let my lips slide to her neck where I kissed her again, touching her with my tongue. I said, “Good morning mom.”

She said softly, “Michael, I need to talk to you. Look, our relationship has changed, and it’s changing even now…okay, so sometimes that happens and neither person knows where it’s going. I know I don’t. But I want to make a deal with you.”

I said, “Okay,” not knowing what she was talking about.

She said, “I want us to tell each other the truth. I’ve had enough lies from men…and I’m sure I’ve told my share also, but between us, can we not do that?”

I said, “Sure mom.”

She said, “No I mean it, no lies, no bull to manipulate the other person, none of that.”

I said, “I hear you mom, I know what you’re talking about, I don’t think I do much of that, but anyway, I give you my word, no lies.”

She said, “Okay.” She seemed satisfied and she started to get up as if the conversation was over and then she said, “Michael, why are you coming on to me? And what was all that about you loving me?”

I took a breath and thwarted my knee-jerk response and said, “I don’t know mom. I got turned on to you. I probably said it because I want to sleep with you, I think you’re hot, and you’re on my mind when I think about sex – and that’s a lot of the time.”

She said, “So why not with one of your girlfriends?”

“I don’t have that many mom,” I said. “You asked for the truth, and this is it, those girls don’t interest me anymore I’m not interested in sex with them, I want sex with you. I don’t know where love comes into it, but I know that I want you.”

She looked at me straight on and said with a half smile, “So, do you want to make love to me, or do you want to fuck me?”

I was taken aback, but I said, “I guess I want to fuck you mom.”

She said, “Well that’s refreshing, thanks for the truth.”

“And I have a question for you mom,” I said. “Is it ever going to happen?”

She said, “Right now, I have no idea,” she said, getting up. “But I do know that I have to get to work.” She kissed my head and put her hand on my face for a second and then let it trail down my chest as she left.

I didn’t have to go to work until the afternoon so I lifted a few weights and then ran myself to exhaustion. I tried to take a nap but images of my mother kept me excited. I fantasized that my reserve unit was called up and it was the night before going overseas. Mom asks me how I want to spend my last night and I tell her that I want to spend it with her. She takes me to her bedroom and she does everything I ask, and I ask a lot. I’m inside her every way I can imagine and then she teaches me more. I came three times before I finally fell asleep.

When I saw her the next morning I projected my feelings from the day before onto her. I looked in her eyes and said with sincerity, “Mom, you are just so beautiful.”

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