The following story concerns a love triangle between a mother, her son and her best friend. All characters are over the age of eighteen. This is the third chapter.
Just before dawn I reached over and found myself alone in my mother's bed. The sheets on her side were rolled up haphazardly. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to pull her body close enough that the rhythmic pace of her breathing would lull me back to sleep. I headed towards the living room with the intention of getting her to come back to bed. Mother was lying awake on the sofa. There was a pile of tissues on the floor and looked like she'd been crying. I asked if everything was alright. She grabbed my hand.
"I feel so selfish, David."
"About last night? I already told you it's nothing to feel guilty about."
"No, that's not what's bothering me."
She told me how bad she felt about her agoraphobia, that her never leaving the house had placed so many unreasonable demands upon me. She was afraid she'd robbed me of the chance of ever having a life of my own. I deserved to have a serious relationship, maybe even start a family. She sniffled as tears began to run down her cheeks. I could feel the water forming in my own eyes. Mother wasn't the only one with mixed emotions.
The five years spent with Dottie had only been a partial distraction from the ten thousand pound elephant in the living room. There were moments -- entire days even -- when I felt totally pathetic; a twenty-five year old mama's boy whose "girlfriend" was his mother's horny sixty-something best friend. Yes, my physical needs had been met by this arrangement. But how many dreams had I given up on because I was afraid to leave my mother home alone for even a single night? The triangle between Mother, Dottie and me was dysfunctional enough but with Dottie gone my mother and I were on the verge of becoming an incestuous couple. Maybe it was better that she believed I was gay. If she knew how twisted things had really gotten it might have been more than she could bear.
"I just want you to know, David, if you ever want to get out on your own you are free to leave. Don't worry about me. I'll find some way to manage."
"It's okay, Mother. I'm here because I want to be," I said, though at that moment I was confused as to my true feelings.
We stayed together in silence for a while, my mother laying on the sofa while I knelt beside her and held her hand. The room slowly brightened as morning broke. The alarm sounded from the bedroom jolting me from the early morning daydream. Time to shower and get ready for work.
At the office I was so distracted that all I could do was stare at the data on the computer screen. The signals Mother was sending had me confused. At noon I told the team leader I was feeling nauseous and signed out. When I left the office building I had no idea how I was going to spend the rest of the day. Going home wasn't an option. Things had gotten too intense. No way Mother and I would be able to avoid a serious discussion just because the painters were working in the apartment. I headed for the mall instead.
As I was parking the car I had a sudden urge to call Dottie. We hadn't spoken since my mother and I first slept together two nights ago. Maybe she could help me sort out my feelings.
"Hey, handsome," Dottie said when she answered the phone. "What are you doing calling me in the middle of a work day?"
"I had to leave the office," I said. "The past couple days have been a real doozey."
I told her everything; the painters, sharing the bed, us masturbating. Dottie seemed pleased that we were on the verge of consummating everything.
"But it's a damn rollercoaster," I said. "I don't know what to make of it."
I asked what she thought about Mother leaving the bed and crying in the living room. Did it mean she was having second thoughts? Dottie paused for a moment, then said she didn't think that was the case.
"Women aren't like men. Men have sex first then start thinking about the implications. Women, well, we are much more likely to talk ourselves out of something good. We run through every possible outcome or scenario in our minds before deciding whether or not to follow our heart. If she is doing that it is a good sign."
"You really think so?" I asked.
"I do," Dottie said. "Her heart is telling her she wants to have a more intimate relationship with you. If she didn't she would have put a stop to it. You just need to get it done before she talks herself out of it."
"So how do I get her to take that final step?"
She paused for a moment and pondered the question.
"Is that what you want? Because if it isn't now is your final chance to bail out. Becoming lovers will change everything and if you decide later that it isn't what you want the two of you can never go back to being just mother and son."
I thought about what Dottie said for a moment. On one hand, if mother and I started sharing a bed it really wouldn't change our lives all that much. There was no way I would ever leave and very few women would be willing to put up with a situation like mine. But I had this nagging feeling that if I crossed the line with mother it would pretty much guarantee the rest of my life would follow the course it was already on. I'd always be one of those men who never left home; her little boy forever, never striking out on my own. The finality of it all bothered me more than the breaking any sexual taboo.
On the other hand, as much as I fantasized about leaving home and seeing the world, the truth is it wasn't likely to happen. So the real choice was whether Mother and I tried to meet each other's physical and emotional needs or spend the rest of our lives lonely.
"I do want that," I said, finally. "But I'm not pretending there is no cost."
"There's a cost to every decision in life," Dottie said. "You know that."
"That's true," I said. "The cost of us being lovers is far less than spending the rest of our lives ignoring our needs. I'd become bitter and Mother would feel a whole lot more guilt."
"Good," Dottie said. "Now here's what you need to do. You have to make your mother feel that same gentle, girlish sort of intimacy that made her fall in love with your father. Like two girls sharing a secret."
Dottie promised to talk to Mother that afternoon and we said our goodbyes.
After half an hour wandering various stores I started thinking about the previous night, especially the way my mother and I had talked about silky nightgowns and what color lingerie we'd look best in. The thought of Mother and I frolicking underneath the sheets while clad in satin and lace pretties obscured my mixed feelings. Tonight we would be sleeping in my bed. I decided that when mother came to bed after her shower not only would I be wearing something sexy but I would present her with a full length gown with a matching robe.
I browsed the lingerie section at JC Penney. The sleepwear ran the gamut from practical cotton gowns that did nothing to enhance the figure to bustierres that left little to the imagination. I decided that I shouldn't come on too strong and selected for myself silky black pajamas with red lace trim around the neckline. Sexy without going over the top. On my way to the register I picked up a pair of black panty briefs that looked like they would fit me.
After paying for the pajamas I left the mall and drove over to the west side. There was a small shop in the black section of town that specialized in lingerie and club wear for plus size women. Dottie had been a regular customer and brought me with her a few times.
A bell on top of the door rang as I entered the shop. I browsed the lingerie rack for a minute before I was approached by the salesgirl.
"Can I help you find something?"
