Chapter Two -- Her New Boobs
BEATRICE
My husband, Brad, thought he was so clever.
He had taken a girlfriend he didn't think I knew about. He was smart in making sure she was in a different state. How did they meet? I have no idea. I didn't want to know. He had come up with these frivolous excuses to go see her. He works in the tech field, actually the IT department of a hospital. He thought I knew nothing about the industry and his excuses for needing to take so many trips were circled around his job.
If that had been his only transgression I might have been inclined to ignore it. One woman who took him away for a week every few months could even be a blessing. One woman to have fun with besides me. But it wasn't just one woman. No, he had led on countless others online. He ran a private online channel he thought was a secret as well.
He even went so far with one affair that he had purchased some erotica written specifically for him -- disturbing erotica -- things that made my stomach turn and I couldn't think about. Another secret he hid so poorly it was almost comical. When I had discovered that particular thing the choice was made for me.
I needed something different. I thought a new haircut, maybe some make up tips, a change of clothing and style. None of it worked. None of it made him stop. What did these women have that I didn't?
Then I realized what I needed. That realization came on slowly. No thunderbolts or lightning strikes. No sudden gasps of euphoria or a mind-opening revelation. This was a slower progression through my mind like something growing. The answer to what I wanted -- what I needed -- for me. Damn Brad and his women, and some men. I could do this for me and not for anyone else.
A boob job.
That same day I had stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom completely naked. My husband on one of his "work trips." I stared at my naked body for nearly an hour trying to decide when I had lost it. I used to be so fit and beautiful. Childbearing does something to a figure. Gravity, age, and life all play their part.
For the most part I was happy with how I still looked. Of course, I could never fit into my high school cheerleading uniforms ever again, but that was okay. I didn't need to stuff my now curvy body into only inches of fabric to feel sexy.
What I needed was for my breasts to come back up where they had once been. I mulled over the decision for a few weeks quietly to myself. My husband returned from his trip and our boring routines continued.
I approached him about the subject late one night before bed. I wanted to know what he thought about it. It was a cold, distant conversation. I barely even got him to look up from his phone for more than five minutes.
The next day I scheduled the appointment for a consultation about a boob job. I will admit that I did that out of anger and spite. I was furious that Brad hadn't thought highly enough of me to give me his attention for a single conversation. That we had become only roommates. Barely even that.
I gave him three beautiful children, two sons one daughter. I supported him in everything he had ever wanted. I gave more of myself than I should have. Now I couldn't even be given a few moments of his precious time.
So yes, the original appointment came from my anger, and like all poorly thought out decisions that appointment had proven to be a complete disaster.
Who else would I have gone to? The only option in my mind was my son, a board certified plastic surgeon. Dr. Dominic Kane. Still young enough to be on the edge of the field, but enough years in private practice to have worked through his nerves. If I couldn't trust my own son with something so important, who could I trust?
I had never expected it to unfold the way it did though. The look in his eyes. The things he had said. The feeling of his hands on my flesh. It all awakened something that I thought I had locked away tightly enough that it would never find sunlight again.
But then he had rejected me. It was a crushing blow after what his father had done. I don't know why it hit me so hard. He was my son after all. My son, nothing more.
That hadn't stopped the thoughts though. The dark box had been unlocked. Images I never should imagine. Things no mother should consider about her own son. I had raced out of his office so quick after getting dressed that there was probably smoke behind me.
---
That night I was alone again. I was never much of a wine drinker, but given the events of the day I felt the need to indulge and feel sorry for myself a bit. I tried to curl up with a book, but my mind only raced. It only took me fifteen minutes to toss the novel aside and turn on the television.
Some mindless comedy would help distract me.
I was on my second episode of a sitcom when the doorbell rang. I stood to move to the door noticing the late hour on my phone.
I almost closed the door in his face when I opened it and saw my son standing there. I wasn't in a good place to deal with him yet. However, he is my son. I knew what it was like to be rejected, and I didn't want that for him even though I had been the victim.
"Mom? Can I come in?" He asked when I just stood there staring at him. He had never looked at me like that before.
"Sure, of course." I said stepping back. I pulled my robe tighter together after closing the door behind him. Ridiculous really, given he had already seen me completely naked.
"Mom, look. I want to apologize for earlier today."
"There's no need to apologize. I just had a stupid idea that maybe I would get some work done. An intrusive thought I let take root in my head." I said waving him off like it wasn't a big deal. Like it hadn't been gnawing at me since I ran out of his office.
"No, I need to. I shouldn't have crossed the line. I was not professional and I didn't take your feelings into consideration. You deserve much better than what you received earlier in my office." He slid his jacket off and laid it across the back of the sofa where I had been sitting.
"Please, Dominic. Let's just forget that ever happened. I won't ever bring it up again and you won't either, okay?" When I moved to the sofa he was waiting. He pulled me against his body and I gasped. Shock raced through me as his deep brown eyes stared at me.
"Mom. I can't ever forget what happened." He breathed holding me tight. His arm moved around to my back and then his hand moved lower. My eyes widened when I felt him grab my ass and squeeze. "I don't want to forget."
"Dominic..." I panted, but then I lost the battle when his lips met mine. He kissed me aggressively and I never stopped him. He took it as all the permission he needed. His hands moved to the belt that held my robe together.
"God, you're so beautiful." He gasped and pushed my robe away until it fell to the floor. I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to stop it. He lowered me onto the couch so I was sitting and leaned back.
I watched my own son crawl between my legs. His warm, strong hands stroked down my thighs. I felt myself getting wetter as he grew closer and closer. Our eyes met and he smirked at me. "So fucking beautiful."
"Dominic, please." I ached for him. The need to feel beautiful again and feel him do things no son should ever do to his mother. Things no mother should ever do for her son.
"Please what, Mom?" He teased and I felt his fingers slowly move along my slit. Then he leaned forward and his thumb found my clit just as his mouth covered my nipple. I moaned loudly and pushed my head further back as he suckled and his tongue circled around my nipple.
