1. A Fateful Friday
"Nathan, could I talk to you for a few minutes, please?"
"Sure, Mom," I replied, and put down the book I was reading.
"About sex."
I groaned and rolled my eyes. "I'd rather not."
"I feel badly that we haven't discussed the subject. I'm assuming that you are, ah, inexperienced-"
"Jebus, Mom."
She knew very well that I was "inexperienced." I had never had a girl friend. I had never even had a date. It wasn't that I was bad looking - I take after her - and it wasn't that I was an impossible goof. The problem was that I was only 5'5" tall. The problem was that while I had just turned 18, I looked like I was about 14. The problem was that the last thing any teenage girl wanted was a date with someone who looked like her kid brother. The only thing that kept me from being a total nerd was the fact that I was athletic, an excellent baseball player despite my size. Nevertheless, nothing of a romantic nature was going to happen for me for years. I knew that and Mother knew that.
"Relax, would you? This isn't about the birds and the bees. I just wanted to make sure you don't repeat my mistakes."
"I'm not going to get pregnant, Mom." She was pregnant at 17 when she got married to my father. They had about a week together before he was sent to Lebanon as a marine. He died in a terrorist attack and my Mother was widowed at 18.
"No, but we do have more in common than you might think. I got pregnant the first time your father and I fumbled our way through sex. I let him do it because he was going away for training and it seemed, I don't know, romantic. We got married on his leave because I was pregnant and then off he went. In other words, my own experiences with sex are barely more extensive than yours. If you do have questions, I probably can't help you much."
"So why haven't you dated? You're a great looking woman. You could find someone."
"I guess that's my point. After your father died, I was in pretty much the same situation as you are in today. I was out of the game. Between taking care of you and establishing my career, I stopped thinking about it. By the time I did think about it, it felt like it was too late. I didn't have any confidence."
"It isn't too late even now–"
"I didn't say it was too late. I said it felt like it was too late. I didn't know how I was supposed to act around a man. I still don't. I feel hopelessly inexperienced at everything. I'm happy with the way my life has worked out, but I did miss out on a sex life. I guess that's one of my few regrets.
"Anyway, we are talking about you, not me, and I do want to eventually have grandchildren. I don't want you to end up feeling like it is too late when things do look up for you. I want you to hang in there. To keep trying. To stay confident. You're a great person. It will happen for you sooner or later. I'm worried about you."
Trying what, I wondered. But I said, "Okay, Mom. Is that it? That's what you wanted to talk about?"
"Yep."
...
Nothing more was said, but the conversation niggled at me for the rest of the day. I was certain I was missing something, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
It hit me later that night. First, my mother made sure that I understood that similar insecurities plagued us both. She was as frustrated as I, and she was worried I would end up in her boat ten years down the road. Second, what my mother left unsaid was that there was an obvious, if unconventional, solution to our common problem. Third, my mother was very smart. She could not possibly be oblivious to the obvious solution.
The conclusion? She must be making a suggestion, an offer! I was staggered. I'd never thought of my mother in a sexual way. We had an excellent relationship built around the idea that it was us against the world. We had the usual problems between a parent and teenager when I was younger, but our relationship had evolved into a genuine friendship.
Sex with my mother? Could I imagine it? Yes, I could. I wrapped my hand around my suddenly throbbing cock and slowly began to stroke. Mom was very petit, even shorter than I. She was slim rather than voluptuous, pretty in a girl next door way rather than beautiful. Since she worked at home, she dressed informally and she seldom wore makeup. I had never seen her naked - I'd never seen any live woman naked - but it wasn't hard to conjure up an image.
As soon as I imagined hard nipples on her small breasts, I exploded. It was the sweetest orgasm I had ever given myself. As I lay there gasping, I realized that the ball was in my court. If I did nothing, Mom would assume I thought the idea was distasteful. In that case, we would both pretend nothing had been said and we would carry on. She had hatched a clever way to broach the subject without risking anything.
But what if I was wrong? What if I was reading something that was not there? What if I did something and it horrified her? I ran through the logic again in my mind. I was nearly certain, but nearly certain hardly seemed to be enough considering the stakes.
But the ball was in my court and I was determined that I would return the serve.
2. Service Returned
The next morning I watched Mom closely looking for any sign, anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed normal for a Saturday. After breakfast, I headed out to the yard to cut the lawn while Mom got the housework caught up. I spent a couple of hours working in the garden. After putting the tools away, I decided that it was now or never. I grabbed a coke from the fridge and found Mom in the living room. My mouth was suddenly dry and I took a swig of my drink.
"Mom, could I talk to you for a few minutes, please?"
"Sure, Nathan," She replied, and put down the book she was reading.
"About sex."
She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Jebus, Nathan."
We laughed and I relaxed a little, but I still needed another swig of coke.
"I've been thinking about our talk yesterday..." My voice trailed off.
"And..." She wasn't looking me in the eye. Her hand were fiddling with the hem of her shorts and I was momentarily distracted by her legs. I watched her pick at an invisible piece of lint. She smoothed an already perfectly smoothed hem. Her obvious discomfort gave me the confidence I needed to push on. I hadn't misread her!
"There is an obvious solution to the problems you raised. You can have what you've missed and I could know what I'm doing when - if - a girl ever does get interested in me. We can build each other's confidence." I paused to take another drink. Mom didn't say anything. The hem of her shorts was fascinating her. "I think you were hoping I would realize you were making a suggestion and that I would pick up the ball and run with it."
Mom took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "What if I was hoping for that?"
"I'm here, aren't I? We're talking, aren't we? If I wasn't also hoping, I would have ignored it. That was your plan."
"The incest part doesn't bother you at all?"
I shrugged. "Well, the secrecy bothers me a bit. I had planned to run up and down the street shouting 'I got laid!' when it finally happened. I suppose that idea is out the window."
Mom laughed which I took as another good sign. This was all going far better than I imagined. I felt cool and collected even though my heart was pounding. The scene was almost surreal, something that I was watching, something that was happening to someone else. Was it actually going to happen? Right now? I was numb. My mouth was dry again.
"Well, it bothers me." A bucket of cold water hit my fantasy. Uh-oh. I decided to keep my mouth shut and wait for more.
"The fact that it is a taboo isn't it. What worries me is that it would change our relationship and that means it could change for the worse. I don't think I could stand that."
"It could also change for the better," I replied.