Mommy I Need, Want & Love You Ch. 02

Literotic asexstories – Mommy I Need, Want & Love You Ch. 02 by FlannaFionaFlaherty,FlannaFionaFlaherty Mommy I Need, Want & Love You, #02

Forty-three-year-old Elizabeth falls in love with her son, Jimmy.

Continued from chapter #01

In hindsight, I was wrong to have allowed him to give me a massage, just as I was wrong to have allowed him to see me wearing a small towel covering my butt, and while exposing the entire sides of my naked breasts to him. Lying face down on the bed, I didn’t invite him into the bedroom until I had the towel positioned across my naked ass. Truly, I didn’t think he could see anything. Maybe he could see more than I thought he could. Maybe he saw what I’d be shocked to know all that he saw.

Now that I remember and not thinking anything of it, whenever massaging me, he always repositioned my legs. Oh, my God, I’m such a fool. Every time he moved my legs, I must have flashed him and given him a great view of my bushy brown, naked pussy. Embarrassed to think of that then, yet, I’m sexually aroused to think of that now. Jimmy saw my naked pussy every time he gave me a massage. Something so very relaxing, we massage one another weekly.

“Relax Mom. I’m just going to move your legs, so that I can work your hamstrings.”

While trying to preserve my modesty, I remember now it was always awkward to turn over and to reposition the towel that was on my butt to cover my pussy and to grab a second towel to cover my naked breasts without having him see anything. He must have seen more than I thought he did. Although it did feel deliciously erotic when he massaged the top of my breasts and the front of my thighs. From his angle at the foot of the bed, he must have had a clear view of my pussy beneath the towel.

After he left the room for me to get dressed, I remember getting up from my bed aroused, horny, and sexually frustrated. Wishing he had felt my breasts and fingered my pussy, I always wished his massages were more sexual. In the way that I would have loved to give him a happy ending with my hand, my mouth, or my pussy, I would have loved him to give me a happy ending with his fingers, his tongue, or with his cock.

Just as he must have felt guilty about having sexual thoughts for his mother; I berated myself for having those same sexual thoughts for my son. Now that I remember him back then, with him walking around in pajama bottoms without underwear, he always walked around with an erection. He always adjusted himself.

Much like the professional baseball players, I thought that was what guys did, always getting erections and adjusting themselves. I thought he stared at me because being his only family, I was his world and he loved me, as a son would love his mother. I didn’t know that I was the cause of his erection. Unable to go there in my forbidden thoughts, I didn’t know he had sexually lusted over me, while peeping and trying to see whatever he could see of me without my clothes.

Certainly, even though I entertained the same forbidden thoughts and sexual desires, I never figured, as his mom, that I’d sexually excite my son. Yet, admitting it now, he always sexually aroused me. With my pussy wet every time I saw his erection, my nipples were always hard and erect.

Even though my mom had three sons, she wasn’t around to teach me much of anything, especially how to keep my legs closed. Kicking me out of the house, after I became pregnant, she never met my son nor even acknowledged his birth. My life went from bad to worse when my mother asked me to leave. The only bright star to my life was having my son.

Yet, had I known then what I know now, I would have sexually seduced him. I wonder if I had played my son by sexually teasing him more, if we’d have sex. I wondered if I would have and should have shown him even more for me to sexually take advantage of the situation. As it was, whenever I exposed myself to him, I heard him masturbating later, no doubt, over the thoughts of me having purposely shown him my naked body?

I’m human, too. I have sexual needs and wants that aren’t being met. Being a single mother with no extra money to afford a babysitter, having to find odd jobs that I could do from home, I didn’t have the time, the finances, nor the inclination to party. Besides, there were few men who’d want to take on a woman with the baggage of another man’s child.

F F F

Mommy I Need, Want & Love You, #02

Nothing out of the ordinary, it was a Halloween like any other Halloween with me visiting my son, Jimmy, to spend some quality time with him, his wife, Kathy, and my grandchildren. Normally, I vacation with them for a week every summer but, this time, his wife, Kathy, asked me to come again over the Halloween weekend to see the kids in their costumes and to take them trick or treating. Since Halloween is my son’s birthday anyway, it was a way for me to buy him a birthday gift there, instead of buying it here, and shipping it.

“Mom, can you come over for Halloween,” asked Kathy?

With me only 19-years-older than her, I disliked her calling me mom. She made me feel old.

“I really could use your help with the kids. They’d be so excited for you to see them in their Halloween costumes. And as you know, a big day for Jimmy, he’ll turn 25-years-old,” she said.

I couldn’t wait to see and take photos of my grandchildren in their Halloween costumes and to take them trick or treating. I couldn’t wait to see my son, Jimmy, and to celebrate his 25th birthday, too. I always looked forward to seeing him.

“I’d love nothing more than to spend the Halloween holiday with you, the kids, and Jimmy. It would be fun to pass out candy after taking the kids trick or treating. I haven’t done that in years, since Jimmy was a boy. Maybe, the day before, we can go to the haunted funhouse together and have an early birthday party for Jimmy when returning home.”

Only, with me part of the Halloween birthday surprise for Jimmy, he didn’t know that I had arrived early to celebrate Halloween and his birthday. Moreover, I didn’t know that this holiday would change our lives forever. Surprising me as much as it sexually aroused me, my surprise visit would change our relationship from mother and son to Elizabeth and Jimmy, forbidden, incestuous lovers forever.

F F F

It all started in the early morning hours the day after his birthday when Jimmy finally found his way home drunk. A big deal and a major milestone celebration, it had been his twenty-fifth birthday. Not only had he missed his kids dressed in costume and taking them out trick or treating but also he had missed his own birthday party with cake, candles, and presents.

With the kids disappointed that Daddy wasn’t there to celebrate Halloween and his birthday with them, his wife and children had already gone to bed hours ago. As his mother, I worried if he was okay and not dead in some ditch. While watching television, I waited up for him to come home. Something that I routinely did years ago, waiting for my son was as if I was waiting for his father to come home drunk.

Seldom staying up so late, I don’t even celebrate New Year’s Eve anymore. On that day with all the fireworks and gunfire outside, I’m in bed by 9 pm. Figuring that he’d be driving home drunk, I was worried about him. I hoped that he’d have the good sense to leave his keys at the bar and have a friend drive him home. That would be the smart thing to do.

‘Where the Hell is he,’ I thought? ‘Why didn’t he call? He could have called. He should have called. With him gone for hours, the least that he could have done was to call to let us know that he was okay,’ I thought.

“Maybe something happened to him. I’m going to lay into him when he walks through the door,” I whispered to myself, while pacing back and forth and peering out the window for evidence of his truck.

Yet, he wasn’t my problem anymore. I needed to back off. I needed to mind my own business. This was between him and his wife. I served my time with his drunken father. I needed not to do that with my son, too.

‘He’s not my little boy anymore,’ I thought. ‘He’s a grown man with a wife and kids. If I must, I’ll have my say later after his wife lays into him, and when I’m alone with him to, hopefully, talk some sense into him,’ I thought.

I quieted my anger that he’d rather be out drinking than to be home with his family for Halloween and for his birthday. Then, I wondered if he did this all the time or only did this because he was out drinking and celebrating his birthday with friends. Yet, again, at the very least, he should have called to tell us where he was, that he was okay, and what time he’d be home. I taught him better than that.

F F F

I could see by the look on her face that she not only had already given up on him but also, by the late night telephone calls she received, that she had the interest and the attention of someone else. They lived in a small house with small rooms, and she didn’t think that I could hear her behind her closed bedroom door whispering her secret, sexual desire for someone else, but I could. Kathy had been cheating on him. Perhaps, that was why he was drinking.

“Do you really like my tits,” I heard her ask whoever was on the other end of the phone? “Tell me, what do you like about my breasts?”

She laughed from whatever the man on the other end of the line had said.

“Well, I really like your cock and if you were here now, what I’d do is…”

I moved away from her bedroom door. Not wanting to hear any more of it, I stopped listening. I figured she was having an affair with a co-worker or a customer. I didn’t blame her. How could I forget what she’s already been through with Jimmy not working, not looking for work, not helping out with the kids, and getting drunk?

It would serve my son right, if she was having an illicit, extramarital affair. We all need the loving support and sexual comfort of someone, especially if when not getting it at home. With her being an attractive woman, it’s only a matter of time before she’d get it from somewhere and from someone else. With no one to blame but himself, my son should have been taking better care of his business at home, instead of giving all his business to the neighborhood bar, and his attention to his drunken friends.

F F F

Kathy was a pretty girl. She reminded me of myself when I was her age. She had the same color strawberry blonde hair and the same color hazel eyes, the same shapely build, the same 120 pound weight, and the same 5’5″ height as me. Right down to the same C cup breast size, she could have been my younger clone. She could have been my younger sister instead of my son’s wife.

Even more than how she looked, stranger still, she walked like me. She talked like me. She laughed like me. Something very disturbingly weird about that, Jimmy was able to find a woman who not only looked like me but also who walked like me, talked like me, and laughed like his mother.

As if she was my daughter instead of my daughter-in-law, looking at her was eerily familiar. Looking at her was as if I looked in the mirror at myself nearly twenty years ago. I felt as though her face was my living picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde. The physical similarities we had in common were shocking. Everyone who saw us out together either thought we were mother and daughter or sisters.

It pained me to admit it but, when I first met her, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jimmy had harbored incestuous thoughts for me by marrying her. Kathy and I looked too much alike for me or for anyone not to think that. Only, as soon as I thought the thought, I put it out of my mind as silly nonsense. Surely, my son doesn’t love me in the way that he loved his wife. He doesn’t want to have sex with me in the way that he had sex with her.

‘We don’t choose the one we fall in love with,’ I thought while fooling myself by telling myself that. ‘It’s just a coincidence that he was attracted to someone who looked exactly like me, exactly like his mother.’

Then, I wondered if he purposely set out to find someone who looked enough like me that, whenever he had sex with his wife, he pretended he had sex with his mother? Again, it was weirdly disturbing to think that thought. Even though I tried not to think those incestuous thoughts, creeping in my mind whenever I was alone, lonely, and touching myself, I found myself thinking that he had married Kathy because he couldn’t marry me. While imagining having sex with my son, I imagined him wanting to have sex with his mother.

F F F

Maybe, as any overprotective mother tended to be, thinking that no woman is good enough for her son, I flattered and fooled myself into thinking that Jimmy was sexually attracted to me. Moreover, I imagined that only I was good enough for him. Something not difficult to do when horny, maybe, I had imagined something that wasn’t there. Now that he’s married with children, it was blatantly obvious that I needed to let him go.

He wasn’t my little boy anymore. He was a grown man now. Only, by him not working, not even looking for work, and getting drunk all the time, he wasn’t acting like the man that he needed to be for Kathy and for his children. He acted more like his drunken father who abandoned him.

Yet, as further proof that he had been sexually attracted to me, and had purposely chosen Kathy, people at their wedding, people who I had never met before, approached me to compliment me on how pretty my daughter looked. They thought that I was Kathy’s mother. When they weren’t thinking that we were mother and daughter, they thought that we were sisters.

“It’s amazing. I can’t tell mother from daughter. You two could be sisters, instead of mother and daughter. Your daughter is so pretty. She looks just like you. She makes for a beautiful bride. You must be so proud of her,” they all said one after another.

Only, I didn’t dare tell them that she wasn’t my daughter. All of the comments from strangers were the same tone and gave me the same shocking suggestion that my son had been lusting over me all of these years. Clearly, Jimmy wished that he could have married me instead of his wife. Maybe, because he couldn’t marry me was the reason for his drinking.

“Thank you, she does make a beautiful bride and I am so very proud of her, only, she’s not my daughter,” I said to some of the guests at the wedding reception. “We’re not blood related. She’s my daughter-in-law.”

They looked at me shocked as if I was kidding.

“Oh, really? You look so much alike,” they’d all said.

They looked from me to look at her and looked back to me again, before excusing themselves to whisper their perverted suspicions to their friends.

F F F

Embarrassed by their questioning looks, I knew they were thinking that my son married her because he couldn’t marry Mommy. Even Kathy had that same wondering look the first time that I met her. I knew that she thought the same thing. When she saw me, it was as if she had looked into a magic, aging mirror with her as 43-years-old woman instead of Jimmy’s 24-years-old wife.

Her look made me feel dirty and wicked. Her look made me feel that I had used and abused the sacred trust of a mother and son relationship by wanting to have incestuous sex with Jimmy. Even though I had never done anything inappropriate with Jimmy, not even so much as having an incestuous thought, okay, I did have incestuous thoughts, but she made me feel guilty that I had acted on those forbidden thoughts.

Even though I didn’t have sex with him, his wife made me feel that I must have had sex with my son. For him to go out and find my carbon copy, my younger clone, and a woman who looked, walked, talked, and laughed like me, clearly sexually attracted to me, he found my clone in Kathy. Nonetheless, with my son clearly pining over me, I felt guilty that she and everyone else thought that I had sex with Jimmy.

For him to find a woman who looked so much like me, his mother, Kathy could have been my twin sister or my daughter. Now I was certain that he had inappropriate, sexual thoughts and wanton, sexual desires about me, especially when we lived together as mother and son. What should have made my skin crawl, what should have made my stomach turn and my head ache, sexually aroused me instead.

After seeing who he had chosen for a wife, I knew that my son sexually wanted me. Finally, something that was still difficult for me to confess, I admitted that I sexually wanted Jimmy, too. Only, even though I know how much I sexually wanted my son and how much he sexually wanted his mother, what am I going to do about that now? It’s too late to act on something that will never be.

Not even giving it a second thought then, I saw the voyeuristic pattern that he masterminded now. Looking back, I remembered all that he did to quench his curiosity about me and to quell his sexual lust for me. I finally saw all the voyeuristic opportunities and sexual scenarios that he had obviously devised to successfully see me in all manners of undress, including seeing topless and even naked.

I shuddered to think that he had used me to get what he sexually wanted and needed at the time. If I confronted him, embarrassed that he was sexually attracted to his mother, he’d surely deny it. The trusting and loving mother that I was, I felt like a fool not to have seen all he had purposely done in trying to see me without my clothes. Yet, I didn’t want to ruin our close relationship by accusing him of wanting to bed his mother. Further, at the time, I didn’t want to destroy our love by having sex with my son.

F F F

Now that I think of it, while wearing my short nightgown and picking up clutter before vacuuming the rugs, I remember all those times when, as a teenager, he was lying on the carpeted floor playing video games. I walked around him and even stepped over him. With me not wearing panties beneath my nightgowns, I must have given him quite the show of my naked pussy without even giving it a thought.

Then, I thought of all those times that we played cards or a board game with him sitting on the floor and me sitting on the edge of the couch. Feeling comfortable in my own apartment, when wearing my short skirt, I must have continually flashed him my panties. When wearing my short nightgowns, I must have continually flashed him my naked pussy. That would explain why he was always masturbating.

Then, every time I leaned forward to play a card, play my piece, or sip my drink while leaning forward in my low-cut top, I must have flashed him my cleavage and low-cut bra. When sitting across from him in my low-cut nightgown with the top falling forward and open with me, I must have flashed him my naked breasts and erect nipples. The thoughts of continually flashing him my panties, my bra, my naked pussy, my naked breasts, and/or my erect nipples made me feel sexually aroused now.

Then, there were all those hugs when I thought nothing of his stray hand touching the side of my breasts or the top of my ass, while wishing he’d touch more. He had a habit of always touching more than he should and more than what was deemed appropriate, whenever hugging me. He seemed to enjoy me pressing my nightgown clad breasts against his muscular chest as much as he pressed his erecting cock against my tummy.

Only, thinking that it was just an innocent hug, I never put a sexual spin on his touching. I just thought of him as my loving son. I just thought that he loved his mother as much as I loved my son.

F F F

Instead of chastising him, I chastised myself for having those forbidden, sexual thoughts of wanting him to touch even more of me when hugging me. Now that I think about it, either he thought I was instigating the sexual touching and feeling or he thought me to be an oblivious fool. I wish I had known then what I suspected now. In the way that he, obviously, wanted to have sex with me then, I wanted to have sex with him now.

Only, I chalked it up to him being emotionally needy and just horny. I figured it was my fault that he was sexually enamored with me because he didn’t have a dad. I blamed everything on myself. I blamed everything on the mistakes that I had made early in my troubled life. I believed that it was all my fault for allowing Jimmy to have seen all that he shouldn’t have seen of me.

All of those times that he was on the floor and I walked around him and/or stepped over him, he must have been looking up my nightgown. Then, when I bent down and leaned forward to pick up his strewn clothes, I must have given him the perfect down nightgown view of my naked boobs, my naked ass, and the back of my naked pussy. It never occurred to me that I was giving my son a show and giving him fodder to jerk off over me later in the privacy of his bedroom or bathroom.

Incest is such a wicked thought that even thinking about it now, so many years later, should make me sick, but it didn’t. It made me sexually aroused to think that my son wanted to have sex with his mother. Certainly, if I knew he had incestuous thoughts about me then, I should have been upset.

Now, to know that he sexually wanted me not only made me dizzy with desire but also gave me a bellyache with the trepidation of knowing that I’m thinking about doing something so sexually wickedly wrong with my son now. I’m so horny that if he was here now, I’d show him how I truly felt about him. I’d stroke his cock. I’d suck his cock. I’d blow him. I’d allow him to cum in my mouth and I’d swallow his cum.

F F F

‘Jimmy? Where are you? Come home to Mommy. Mommy wants to blow you. Mommy needs to suck your cock,’ I imagined saying to my son. ‘Mommy wants to give you a birthday blowjob while your wife is asleep in her bed after talking to and, no doubt, masturbating over her lover,’ I thought.

The thought of him dying in a car crash without me ever telling him how I truly felt about him, made me sick. I told myself that if he were to come home safely, I’d tell him about the sexual thoughts that I felt for him with the hope that I could ease his guilt for having those same sexual thoughts for me. Now that we’re older, as a way to remove or encourage our sexual desire for one another, when I found myself alone with him, maybe he’d finally want to act out those sexual thoughts with me.

Who am I kidding? Returning the sexual favor, I just wanted to sexually take advantage of my son now, in the way that he sexually took advantage of me, years ago. What’s wrong with me for having sexual thoughts for my son? What’s wrong with me for wanting to blow my son? I can’t believe that I want to suck his cock.

We all have sexual desires. We’re all human. Who else would I want to have sex with other than with my son? Every man I’ve known has always taken advantage of me. Every man I’ve known has fucked me over after fucking me.

Now to realize that even my son had sexually abused me by using me to see what he could of my naked body is as shocking as it is sexually arousing. Every man I ever dated, after the birth of Jimmy, just wanted a blowjob. I was always so horny that I’d accommodate him hoping that he’d date me again, but he never did. It wasn’t that I was ugly or gave bad blowjobs; they just didn’t want to have the responsibility of a woman with a child, especially a child that wasn’t theirs.

F F F

After meeting his girlfriend, Kathy, before she was his wife, and seeing how much she resembled me, it was disconcerting. While my son had sexual relations with his wife, I imagined that he imagined having sexual relations with me. How could he not, Kathy and I look so much alike?

When she made love to him, he must have thought of me making love to him. When he ate her pussy, he must have thought of eating my pussy. When she sucked his cock, he must have thought of his mother sucking his cock. When he ejaculated in her mouth and/or all over her face, he must have thought of cumming in my mouth and giving me a cum bath.

After living alone and being lonely for so long, I secretly fueled this suspicion of his secret, sexual desire for wanting to have incestuous sex with me. Again, with Kathy looking so very much like me, it was by no stretch of my imagination that my son imagined having sexual relations with me while having sex with his wife. Not much of a stretch of my imagination, I couldn’t help but wonder if he sexually thought of his mother whenever he had sex with his wife.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like naked. I couldn’t help but wonder how his cock felt in my hand and what it tasted like in my mouth. It made me wet to think about his face buried between my thighs with his tongue flicking out to lick my pussy, while his fingers played with my clit and finger fucked me to orgasm.

‘That’s right, Jimmy, lick Mommy’s pussy. Give me a sexual orgasm. Make mommy cum,’ I imagined saying to my son.

I wondered what it felt like to have his cock buried deep inside my pussy, while he kissed me, French kissed me, and made love to me before leaning down to suck my nipples. I wondered what it felt like for him to fuck me. I’d love for him to fuck me fast enough and hard enough to give me another sexual orgasm. I’d love to fuck my son.

‘Fuck me, Jimmy. Stick your big, hard cock in my tight, wet pussy. Fuck mommy. Fuck me faster. Fuck me harder. Give me another sexual orgasm, this time with your cock.’

Something that no man had done to my pussy in years, I imagined Jimmy fucking me hard and fast enough to make me cum. I imagined returning his fast and hard humps to make him cum, too. I imagined us cumming together. I imagined making love every morning and fucking every night.

‘After you make mommy cum, mommy will suck your cock and make you cum in her mouth. Mommy will swallow all that you have to give her,’ I imagined saying to my son. ‘Mommy will let you cum all over my face, in my hair, and across her naked breasts. Mommy will allow you to give her a cum bath.’

I imagined looking at my son and smiling.

‘Would you like that, Jimmy? Would you like mommy to blow you? Would you like to cum in mommy’s mouth,’ I imagined asking him? “Would you like to make mommy your bitch and give me a cum bath?’

F F F

Only out yet again, he had gone drinking with the boys. As usual, but for me and the children, Kathy was home alone. Unable to reach him to tell him that I had arrived early to celebrate his birthday and to take the kids trick or treating, he didn’t know that I was there waiting for him to arrive home.

Out of necessity, Kathy had gotten a job at the deli slicing cold cuts for people who shouldn’t be eating salty slabs of sliced meat. I was fortunate to have a job that I worked from home and it didn’t matter where I called home. All I needed was a computer and my cell phone, which is how I was able to pack up and stay with them over the Halloween weekend.

With him not working again, they had a difficult time financially. She needed to get that job at the deli, until he was able to find employment. The unemployment checks were soon to run out and weren’t nearly enough to live off of anyway.

Like his father, Jimmy was too proud to work at anything he felt was beneath him. Like his father, he had the need to drink and the inherent difficulty to know when to stop. Before he found a job, he needed to stop drinking.

Somehow making him feel like the man that he wasn’t, the husband he hadn’t been, and the father he had never shown his children to be, he’d rather spend his money at the local bar. Instead of working, he’d rather spend his time with the rest of the loser barflies, than to spend quality time with his wife and children. He needed to dedicate his time to focus on looking for a job that paid enough to support his family. Only, having known his father, I understood the fallacies and frailties of my son.

His dad deserted us when Jimmy was still a baby. He has no memory of ever having a father. It was just me and Jimmy. When I was too young and too immature to help his Dad, having my baby at barely 18-years-old, I knew that I was the only one who could help save my son from himself and from the fate of alcoholism that befell his father.

F F F

It was well after one o’clock in the morning when I heard him out front. Relieved, I knew it was him, as soon as he pulled up to the house. Only, when he hit the curb with his front tire, slammed his door twice to close it, dropped his keys, and swore, I knew he was drunk.

“Fuck,” I heard him say! “Where’s my keys? Where the Hell are they? There they are. Just my luck, it figures they’d fall in the only puddle on the street.”

He was lucky he hadn’t killed himself and/or someone else. He was lucky he hadn’t been stopped, arrested, and thrown in jail. In this day of public awareness and outcry, akin to being an outcast from having leprosy during the Middle Ages, AIDS in the eighties, or being a registered sex offender with the Catholic priest sexual scandal, driving drunk today was not only illegally but also socially forbidden.

With a drunk driving conviction that followed him around the rest of his life, he couldn’t get a job driving a truck. No one liked a drunk, especially a drunk driver. Only, thinking that this was one and only bizarre, bad behavior, I didn’t know that this had recently become his regular routine. Drinking was his daily routine. Every day, he was drunk, angry, and unhappy.

Going out to the bar, hanging out with the guys, and coming home drunk, changed him from a good man to a bad man. Totally unaware, he didn’t know that his wife, my daughter-in-law, Kathy, had asked me to stay with them over the Halloween holiday weekend. I was his birthday surprise. Only, I never thought that he’d miss his own birthday party. I never thought that he wouldn’t be home to see his children dressed in costume and to take them trick or treating.

‘Surprise! Happy Birthday, Jimmy,’ I wanted to say as soon as he walked through the front door.

I thought that I’d greet him at the door with a big hug but, angry with him, turning off the TV, I remained silent. I didn’t say a word. I lay there on the couch fuming over his bad behavior while waiting for him to unlock his front door and step inside.

Besides, not wanting to awaken Kathy and/or the kids, I was angry that he had disappointed his children and upset his wife. I let him fumble and stumble around in the dark. Now, I understood what was happening between them and the reason why she asked me to come so soon for another visit. Maybe the reason she asked me to visit again had less to do with helping out with the kids and more to do with helping her out with Jimmy.

F F F

He was a mess. Neglecting his family obligations and drinking to an excess, he was out of control. Now, unable to even fend for himself, in the drunken condition and weakened state he was in, he needed more tender loving care than his 2-year-old daughter and his 4-year-old son.

Yet, because he was my son and because I loved him, I was biased in his favor. I figured that Kathy was the reason why Jimmy started drinking. Maybe, after the birth of the children and with her being tired from caring for them and cooking and cleaning, they weren’t sexually intimate anymore.

It still amazed me how someone who was only 25 years old could have such a problem with alcohol. When did he suddenly start drinking? Why did he suddenly start drinking? Maybe he knew that she had been cheating on him. Their promise of having a good marriage and a beautiful family, suddenly turned disastrously bad.

He didn’t drink before he was married. I don’t remember him ever having a drink when he lived with me. After having lived with and survived his drunken father, I wouldn’t even allow alcohol in the house. Other than spending his unemployment check, where did he get money to buy drinks at the bar?

Yet, a telltale sign that he had issues, even when the economy was good, he couldn’t keep a job. Another telltale sign that he had a serious problem with alcohol, even when he finally admitted that he was an alcoholic and attended regular AA meetings, Kathy confessed that he still couldn’t stop drinking. A closet drunk, he had somehow hidden his drinking from me.

Alcohol abuse is a disease. His father had it. Now, he has it, too.

“He’d rather celebrate his birthday with his drunken friends, instead of with his family. That’s where he is, at the bar with his friends getting drunk again,” said Kathy. “He’d rather drink and get drunk than to see his children in costume and take them trick or treating.”

To be continued…