My mother is the shyest person I know. She’s a lovely person with a beautiful heart but quiet is loud for her. It’s only in the last six months that she’s even taken to being called Beth; it was always Elizabeth. Probably a lot of it stems from her formal upbringing and domineering parents. They told her what to wear, what to say and even whom to marry.
That didn’t work out so well. He left her and me and my older brother Corey after four years. She loved us both but she spoiled me; she held on to me for all my eighteen years – literally. When I was younger I thought everybody’s mother sat with their arms around their daughters and held them all night long. I was her ‘baby doll’, her Jenna. It may have been strange but I always knew I was loved.
We lived a typical suburban life until I discovered the deep feelings that welled beneath my mother’s quiet exterior. I know when you tell a story the characters should change or grow to make it interesting but this isn’t about a ‘character’ it’s about my mother and she’s still shy and quiet even when we make love.
The handful of people in whom I’ve confided always ask how we first became intimate. That’s not what this is about but I’ll give you the short version. She loves to read and she instilled that love in me. She has a hundreds of books in her bedroom and one day I was flipping through the paperbacks when something behind them fell. I fished it out and it was a book on incest.
It was written by a Stanford researcher and I was intrigued and took it to my room where I spent most of the night caught in its spell. The book had three parts. I didn’t read any of the first part because I found it too upsetting. It dealt with abusers. I don’t believe in the death penalty but anyone who forces sex on a minor should be shot – but only after they suffer the tortures of the damned. The second part talked about consensual loving relationships between adults and the third was interviews with couples.
The interviews got to me. I was excited by them because they resonated in me. People were talking about thoughts and feelings that I was trying to come to grips with myself. This wasn’t fiction but real people who loved and wanted and acted despite societies prohibitions. That was the first night I ever masturbated with my mother’s picture in my mind: sucking her daughter and her daughter sucking her. I went out the next day and bought five books of incest erotica.
I debated with myself if I should tell Corey how I felt. Corey was everything an older brother should be. I could talk to him and I always knew that whatever he did or said was because he wanted the best for me. So it wasn’t a shock when I came home early one day and saw them kissing with his hand under her blouse – it was devastation. I couldn’t breathe for two days.
I don’t want to mislead you because I know that in most of the stories I read everyone ends up fucking happily ever after. We don’t all end up in bed together and Corey and I kiss on the cheek once a year on our birthdays. I did talk to him though – about everything.
Corey lived in the next town and I just couldn’t say these things face to face so I called him. We talked for two hours the first time. I can still remember almost every word. I said, “Corey, what’s up with you and mom and please don’t say ‘what do you mean’?”
He hesitated and asked me, “What do you know?”
“I saw you Monday at the house.”
“Ok Jen…look, it’s not a big thing anymore. About a year ago we sort of got involved and now it’s a very ‘once in a while’ thing.”
“How involved Corey?”
“How much detail do you want Jen?”
“I want it all and I promise I’ll tell you why later but I want it all.”
“Oh God…all right, you asked for it. It started the weekend you went to Diane’s. Mom didn’t want to stay alone and she asked me to stay over. The first night I heard noises coming from her room and I thought she was having a nightmare or something but when I got up to door I heard her masturbating with a vibrator. I got turned on when I heard her come. We spent the next day together and all I could do was look at her body. That night I heard the vibrator going again and I walked in and took her hand and put it between my legs. I said to her, ‘mom why are you using that plastic thing when I have this for you’?”
“She went on about how we shouldn’t but she didn’t put up much resistance. I knew she was pretty lonely. It went on for a while but she’s very conflicted about it. Most of the time she refuses me and she’s never initiated sex between us but I can tell when she wants to be touched. On Monday when I came over she was in her nightgown and I went up behind her and kissed her shoulders. I unbuttoned her and when she was naked she sort of covered herself with her hands and said, ‘Corey I shouldn’t let you do this to me’.”
“I said, ‘Do what ma?’- we go through that every time I touch her.”
“I put myself on her and probably said things like: ‘You mean putting my fingers in you or kissing your neck or this…’ then I put myself in her and asked her if I should stop. She usually moves on me for a little while and then says, ‘yes stop…please stop’ so I stop. I don’t think she came more than twice in all those months but usually she touched me until I came. Well Jenna I guess that’s more than you bargained for.”
That was the second time in a week that I had held my breath for so long I was dizzy. I finally told Corey about my feelings for mom and he said, “Man this is a new definition for ‘nuclear family’… Jen I don’t know what to tell you except maybe you should wait until you’re a little older before you get involved with something like this.”
“I know Corey but I’m not a kid and I know what I feel. The only good relationships I’ve ever had were with other women and I just love her so much.”
“Just curious Jen, did you have a thing with Mrs.Canavo?”
“For a little while.”
“Yeah I thought so…anyway maybe with mom it’s just because you’re so close and it’s not really…”
“Corey, if you’re going to be stupid it’s not going to help me at all. I know the difference. Just tell me how I should tell her.”
“Well…if you’re serious then don’t talk to her about it because she’ll just talk forever about how you shouldn’t and she shouldn’t – even if she wants you that way… I don’t know…just kiss her or something.”
I thought about what he said and didn’t think I could just walk up to my mother and stick my tongue in her mouth – but it almost happened that way. About a week later it was a Friday night and mom had made my favorite pasta concoction and lemon pie. We were watching a video and I just hugged her and said, “Mom I love you. You really take good care of me.” I kissed her soft lips quickly and told her, “I want to take care of you too.”
I held her around and she buried her face in my neck “Sweet Jenna” she said. I felt a few warm tears and kissed her longer. She didn’t protest.
My mother’s touch was gossamer and her hands were velvet on my skin. We touched for a long time and I undressed her. She didn’t protest.
I searched out her wet center with my tongue and found sweet honey dripping for me. I lifted her hood and kissed inside the opening flower. Her pink nub responded and swelled. I took my mother in my mouth. She came for me. She didn’t protest.
We made love for hours. We had love for hours. We were love for hours.
My mother beautified my breasts with her words and touch. My nipples engorged for her. When she loved me with her fingers my clit filled for her. My first orgasm astonished me when I came in her mouth. I didn’t expect it so quickly and it hit like a bolt of electricity. She soothed me with my second and loved me into my last.
Before dawn she tried to ‘confess’. “Jenna I have to tell you something… it’s over now but I was with…”
I stopped her. “I know mom…none of it matters…only this matters.”
“This” is what we shared for two years until she met Mr.Almendros and didn’t that make my brown eyes green. He was a new lawyer at the firm where mom was a legal secretary. It started with Mr. Almendros this and Mr.Almendros that. When I got ‘twitchy’ every time she’d mention his name, mom took the hint and stopped talking about him. That didn’t keep her from going to concerts with him every few weeks.
When I brought it up it was always ‘nothing’ and when she came home late it was always ‘coffee’. One night after having love with my mother I asked her if she still wanted men. She hesitated and said, “Well I guess I’m attracted to men if that’s what you mean but that has nothing to do with us Jenna. I love you.”
I thought about it a lot and I wondered what it must be like to be ‘Bi’. I couldn’t imagine it. It’s hard enough to be assessing your sexual feelings towards half the people you meet. What could it be like to have the whole fucking world on your plate? At any rate I probably never went in to it with mom because I was afraid of what I might hear.
That didn’t prevent me from going into it with me – ad nauseam. I imagined everything imaginable and then some. The green eyed monster started to show its ugly head when we were in bed. Mom didn’t understand my roughness with her. She thought it was a ‘sex’ thing for me so she let me do her to the point of soreness.
When I finally met Mr. Almendros I was fit to kill. City Museum had a showing of Van Gogh and we all went. Mom was off looking at something and Mr. Almendros was attempting to be charming. It wasn’t working. When he started telling me what a terrific woman my mother was he finished with, “She’s a real hot ticket.”
That finished me. This dickhead is telling me my mother’s a ‘hot ticket’? I wanted to say “Screw you Mr. A… (Not Almendros) but I just walked away.
When we got home I was furious and on the verge of tears. My mother came to kiss me and I lit into her. “You bitch, how could you sleep with that…?”
She turned pale and said, “Jenna what are talking about?”
I blubbered into a long probably incoherent ramble: “Sure, you don’t know…he told me what a ‘hot ticket’ you are so why don’t you just go and screw him… how could you go to bed with him and then sleep with me…you don’t care…On and on I went until my mother stopped me.
When the color returned to her face she laughed. “Baby doll…sweetheart… I never slept with him or anybody else since the first time with you. I would never do that to you; you’re my love. I don’t know what he told you but all we do is talk. Maybe I told me more than I should have about my ideas on sex but it was always in general, never personal. I don’t know what else he could mean by ‘hot ticket’ except that. Oh baby, come here.”
I knew by just looking at her face what an idiot I’d been. She kissed me endlessly only stopping to joke, “I’m a bitch huh?”
“I’m sorry mom…” She stopped my mouth with kisses.
It was the first time in my life I ever had ‘make-up’ sex with anyone. I can almost understand why couples fight. The intensity was amazing. Wherever my mother touched me the nerve endings fired. I no longer had sensitive spots. My whole body felt like the ends of my nipples.
I made her wet and she made me drip. Her naked body felt like velvet against mine. She ran her soft hands down my back as we kissed. She caressed my ass and put a finger to the smaller opening. She teased it and I was relieved and pleasured when her finger went in. She had never done that and I told her “That feels good mom…I like it…I like your fingers in me…”
“Yes sweet Jenna…I’m here for you…whatever you want my baby…”
She touched me forever and I climbed to a place I’d never been. I shifted my position on the bed so we could be in each other’s mouth. I licked her thighs and the perfumed heat came off her body. I tasted the juice that was so sweet to me, the juice that sat in fine droplets on the ends of her pubic hair. She slathered the opening I kept shaved for her. She loved to run her tongue along my bare pussy. I loved her to run her tongue along my bare pussy.
As she sucked on me I heard myself calling her over the ecstatic rush in my head. “Mother…mother…mother…”
When we make love this way I usually try to time myself to come with her. This time I was lost to time. All I could do was feel: her tongue rubbing my clit, her finger in me, her flower in my mouth. I don’t know who came first but I heard us both moaning for what seemed an eternity. The memory of us loving each other through that night gets me through a lot of days.
We’ve had love together for three years now and mother is still the most quiet, shy and sweetest person I know. Sometimes it’s wonderful when things don’t change.